Four decades ago, I fell for Don Byron for the same reason many of my coreligionists did: he was a black dude playing klezmer clarinet. Once the initial ethnic frisson had worn off, we came to understand that his restless embrace took in the whole ecumene of music, encompassing (in time) everything from gospel, Motown, and cartoon-soundtrack swing to Latin jazz, 70s funk, and the lieder of Robert Schumann. Whatever he plays, it’ll be a mekhaye. —E.E.