soundtrack de una vida

Hiren Mistry - jazz

Jazz.

zzaJ.

No.

Jazz.

Can't be any other way.

Jay. Ay. Zed. Zed. (Zee if you're American)

The soundtrack to my life.

What

Is

it?

It is a flowing, bopping

soothing, mellowing, exciting

cool, fiery, heart-warming,

heart-breaking, eye-closing,

eye-opening, genital-rousing

music.

But

that

isn'tall.

It's an atmosphere,

a state of mind-

smell-touch-taste

music...

it's...

Gotta be dark-

Night.

(afternoon jazz doesn't do much for me)

Gotta be small room-

Cosy.

So tight, people

can't walk around

Gotta be serious

But

loose.

Serious to listen, to caress, nurture and digest the jazz.

Loose to experience it any way you want:

Eyes closed, nostrils flaring

mouth open, tongues twisted

hands clasped.

Gotta be smoke:

Ghosts of musicians past

dancing, swaying perfectly

to constant time.
Comfortable?

Now the

fun

begins.

Music turns gears in

your brain.

No elevators in this club

So don't expect

that

kind o' music (sin! sin! sin!)

You want to reach out and

delve right into the music.

splash swim strip

bathe smother

cover yourself

in the music

Conscious of every instrument:

squeak brush squeal

thump and pluck.

Conscious of every murmur and shift (so shhhhhhhhh!)

You concentrate separately on each-

and find it a miracle.

Pianist just hitting

fist on keys.

Bassist just moving hand

up and down.

Drummer hit anything

he can.

Sax man blows

his brains out.

Yet all in unison.

Stop.

Start - the same time.

Then they go again banging

plucking

hitting

squeaking.

It's a miracle, so instinctively you want

to close your eyes and pray to God

The God

of Jazz.

you want to stay tied down

burned to the ground, lost

and found, old fat and round,

buried way down

in this club

The music encompasses you

because you realize it's all live.

Blood. Sweat. Tears.

People.

Real wood ivory

brass

in front of you.

It's like sex:

Once you do it,

Everything else is just a

fraction

of the performance.

And

why not

sex?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?

Not crude

it's true.

It's a sensuous music - everything

is

sexual.

Why, just listen:

The Bass is a man's voice, talking dirty

and sweet cool seduction.

Saxophone's the jivin' horny man

talkin' in rhyme.

Drum's the big performer, always

harpin' bout his skins

....and sweet piano...

she teases and taunts

then gives them what they want...

So now the music stops and you open your eyes.

Bands gone. People are gone.

Just you and your

sween melancholy.

Savour it. Remember it.

Regurgitate it and chew it.

'Cause

you

never

forget.

Jazz.

zzaJ.

No. Jazz.

Can't be any other way.

Jay. Ay. Zed. Zed.

The soundtrack to my life

....and yours.

'Cause

now

you

know.