So gratifying to see everyone breaking into a sweat over "Cradle of Love," and I didn't have to lift a finger!
But first, this thread started with an exchange about the aural acumen of musicians as opposed to that of historians/collectors. The key word is "listening." Listening is an art, distinct unto itself. Whether listening is applied to making music or appreciating it, it's the same art and needs to be practiced, same as any other art. I know musicians who are terrible listeners, and record collectors who are fantastic listeners (and vice-versa).
The key to practicing the art of listening is learning how to get out of your own way. Our thoughts and opinions arise so readily that they usually obstruct our direct perceptions. Can you listen to music without THINKING of anything while the music is on? For that matter, can you listen to another person talk without composing a rejoinder, or thinking of something else altogether? It's hard to do! It takes practice and concentration!
I love to play rare 78s for visitors to my house in Venice. Even though we're just having fun, I'm also observing them. If, while the music is on, he fidgets, looks this way and that, picks up a magazine, starts a conversation, multitasks with his iPhone, etc. - he's a lousy listener, and we might as well do something else. OTOH, if she can sit still, say nothing, just drink in the sound - then here is someone who really uses her ears. Of course, that's only the beginning. A person can have a good attitude, but still be consumed with extraneous thoughts. As I said, it's an art that takes cultivation and practice.
My point is that actually playing an instrument is NOT essential to being a good listener, any more than being a chef is required to appreciate good cooking.
Now, about "Cradle of Love" - Almost everything I've had to say about it is already published repletely on this website. But "Cradle" was exactly the kind of exercise that helped me in becoming a better listener, one that I have passed along to you.
When I first heard the record, the idea the the mystery horn man could be Bix seemed silly. It didn't sound like him at all on first hearing. But with repeated plays, more, and yet more, startling, intimate aural details identical with Bix's known playing kept cropping up. Then, as the alternate takes appeared, more, and yet more similarities to Bix's way of creating musical architecture revealed themselves. This is what makes "Cradle" so fascinating. Whether the player is Bix or not, here is someone whose modi operendi are just like his.
At no time in my lectures or papers did I insist that Bix was the player; only that here was a beautiful opportunity to use our ears - our listening chops - to explore Bix's creative and working methods, and to hear how they applied to this mysterious, intriguing record.