I come from a world of snazzy jazz band polos and squeaky wind instruments and smelly yellow school buses.
Ah, high school jazz band. For the past two years, I’ve woken up to play jazz at the wee hours of the morning, puffy-faced and yawning, blindly fumbling with the F blues scale. You should hear improvisation at this hour.
But then again, it’s taken me to heavenly heights. The first time I saw Miles Davis’s face was when I walked into that room, a huge poster hanging on the wall, sticking out from everything like a Mona Lisa, a trumpet pressed against his lips. Because of him, Kind of Blue and Time Out has replaced Britney Spears (I know, I know) and Fergie on my iPod.
I hum Bill Evan’s solos in the shower. Whistle. Sing?
Jazz is soul. Blues. Love. Anger. Creativity. Energy. Everything.
This is dedicated to everything that that has that special swing. Concerts, performances, albums old and new. Professional and amateur. Mine and theirs.
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: Jilted/The Rise and Fall of Ruby Woo/The Puppini Sisters/(genre: swing)
