The saxophone was made for jazz, and sooner or later it would have achieved eminence as a front-line instrument. But it was Hawkins who secured its importance, and set down the template for a first generation of jazz saxophonists. He took up the C-melody instrument at an early age and was performing for dancers when in his teens, and in 1921 he played in a Kansas City theatre orchestra, where Mamie Smith heard him and eventually (his parents at first disapproving) gave him a job in her touring band. 'Bean' (derived from 'Stringbean', a comment on his skinny young self) switched to the tenor saxophone and made his first records with Smith's Jazz Hounds, and in 1923 he began looking for work in New York. Fletcher Henderson hired him for some record dates and invited him to join his new band in January 1924; it was the start of a ten-year association. Considering the freakish sounds other saxophonists were making at the time, the impact of Hawkins's early featured spots is still astonishing: his passage on the Vocalion recording of Dicty Blues is an amazing solo for 1923. In this period he was still relying heavily on the beat, and using much of the slap-tongue vocabulary which was the saxophone's accepted dialect, but already he was pushing an individual temperament and a more masculine, rugged approach. Sitting near Louis Armstrong in the Henderson band opened his ears further: next to the already brilliant Armstrong, Hawkins was still a comparative beginner, but he soaked up everything the trumpeter was doing, especially rhythmically. Following his progress on Henderson's records over ten years is like watching someone steadily open a door: he plays more independently of the beat, ornaments melody lines with increasing assurance, and enlarges an already full-voiced timbre. On a rare small-group, 'outside' date such as the 1929 session with The Mound City Blue Blowers, he plays a fuming solo on Hello Lola and a lustrous one on One Hour. By the early 30s, his was seen as the dominant saxophone voice, and despite the input of such contemporaries as Charlie Holmes, Johnny Hodges, Frankie Trumbauer and Jimmy Dorsey, everyone followed Hawkins. The Henderson band was booked for a tour of England in 1934, but when it fell through Hawkins decided to go by himself. He had such a successful time in London that he remained for five years, touring the continent, recording with Django Reinhardt and The Ramblers Dance Orchestra, and living a star's life. On his return to the US in July 1939 he picked up where he had left off, despite the arrival of such new saxophonists as Lester Young. Hawkins formed a new band and in October he recorded, to close out a studio date, an almost impromptu version of Body And Soul: consisting of just two choruses of tenor saxophone with only a discreet accompaniment, its spontaneous perfection stunned other musicians, reaffirmed Hawkins's mastery and even won him a popular hit – 'Even the squares like it' mused the bewildered Hawk.

He briefly led a big band, but aside from the leader's own playing it was a flavourless group, and he went back to small bands for the rest of the 40s. Bop piqued his interest, and he was one of the few older players to take an immediate hand in the music, recording with Gillespie, Parker, Navarro and J J Johnson soon enough. He played all over the US and still cut plenty of records, one highlight being Picasso, a completely acapella tenor solo which was loosely based on the Body And Soul chords. At the start of the LP era he was recorded comparatively infrequently, but by 1957 he was making albums for Prestige and Riverside and there was a terrific burst of recording towards the end of the decade. He was happy to play in Jazz At The Philhamonic packages, and on dates with old friends such as Pee Wee Russell and Henry Allen: having lived through every jazz era and contributed to all of them, he had something to say in most situations. There were some gorgeous sessions with Ben Webster, and one of his favourite front-line partners was Roy Eldridge. But the youngest of the new men did pose some questions which even Hawkins couldn't quite answer: a session with Sonny Rollins in 1963 was less successful. His tone hardened and the vibrato sometimes became more of a shake, but Hawkins was still playing powerfully in the middle 60s. He continued to visit his old European haunts, performing at venues such as Ronnie Scott's in London. Scott remembered when Ben Webster dropped by to tell Hawkins that 'My daddy took me to hear you play', whereupon Hawk would growl, 'Ben, you're older than shit'. His last two years saw a steady decline in his health, but he still toured Denmark in 1968 and played a final concert with Eldridge the following April: living on soup and brandy finally wore him out.

Biography from Richard Cook's Jazz Encyclopedia (2005).

If you'd like more information, check out The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz (2002) or The Biographical Encyclopedia of Jazz (2007), both of which are still in print.