Elegant. Exemplary. Erudite. Enigmatic.
Those four words best describe the late Dr. George Butler, a seminal figure in the rise of the 1980s and ’90s “young lions” movement in jazz. As an executive producer and A&R vice president for jazz and progressive music at Columbia Records, he shepherded the early careers of stars such as Wynton Marsalis, Branford Marsalis, and Harry Connick Jr.
This year marks the 40th anniversary of one of Butler’s greatest coups: Wynton Marsalis’ eponymous debut album. Back in 1982, it was a bold if risky statement for a major label to sponsor a 21-year-old trumpeter and composer who bucked the prevailing jazz-funk fusion trend in favor of blistering acoustic postbop. But the gambit paid off tremendously, catapulting Marsalis into superstardom and gaining him pop-culture name recognition on a par with Prince, Michael Jackson, and Madonna.
The immense influence of Wynton’s debut and subsequent albums paved the way for Butler to sign a legion of other young jazz artists to Columbia, including Joey DeFrancesco, Monte Croft, Nnenna Freelon, Rachel Z, Marlon Jordan, Kent Jordan, Ryan Kisor, Jane Ira Bloom, and Travis Shook. Soon after, other major labels like Warner Bros. and Atlantic followed suit, while iconic jazz imprints such as Blue Note and Verve revitalized themselves by signing more young lions.
Butler had helped change the course of jazz. But then, after retiring from Columbia in the mid-’90s, he seemed to vanish from the world. By the time he died in 2008, his achievements had been reduced to a footnote in comparison to other executives like Bruce Lundvall and Tommy LiPuma. Even today, he remains embarrassingly unsung.
Trumpeter Terence Blanchard recorded for Columbia beginning in the mid-’80s (co-leading ensembles with alto saxophonist Donald Harrison) and throughout the ’90s (as both a rising solo artist and acclaimed scorer for Spike Lee’s films). He remembers Butler as “a square peg trying to fit in a round hole.
“[Butler] was a unicorn,” Blanchard says. “His personality was not something that fit the jazz mold. He wasn’t a dude who hung out at the clubs. He did his job, then went home. There was no need for him to sit around with the jazz police to validate his job. So, consequently, you don’t have stories about George being at the Village Vanguard all night
