A jazz drummer is tapping, tss, ba dam! testing the limits of the known world, a blind man's stick, finding the edge, feeling the void as it opens beneath him and then quick! quick! just a quick step back, a snare snap back to balance on the edge once again.
The jazz is on the radio and the rest of the band are back. There are horns calling and a bass beneath, we're back in the womb and it's ok, though it might be raining in the street outside we're alright in here, where the coffee machine is warm and the music cool, where I can listen to Italian voices and jazz on the radio.
And I can stand, feeling the warmth of the venerable machine through my plastic armoured biker jacket, remembering Coltrane in 1961, from youtube last night, a 21st century memory of an event I never witnessed, and hear us clapping together at the end of the ten minutes or so of a man finding the edge and dancing along it with his saxophone in both hands, breathing such music into life...
As the Daddy-O Jazz Dude in the Fast Show said:
ReplyDelete...yeaaaah, man