The Sax Man Sings
I learned something today. Charlie Hunter resides in Greensboro! He is a great, world-renown jazz guitarist. He plays a special guitar in that there are bass strings built into it. So he plays the bass line and the guitar chords at the same time. It has been years since I have seen him but I saw a sign on a marquee, or perhaps in one of the local newspapers, about him playing. I missed the show, The Voodoo Orchestra, I believe it was called, but there is more to come with him living here. He does tour quite a bit, but this is good news with him living here. This, in addition to the jazz folks here at UNC Greensboro, has renewed my love for jazz.
It is wondrous to think that one man can play two instruments at once. Not unheard of, guitar and harmonica (Bob Dylan), drums and didgeridoo ( Xavier Rudd), bass guitar and vocals (Sting), drums and vocals (Neil Peart); I once saw the Dave Mathews Band saxophone player play two saxophones simultaneously. I would love to hear Charlie Hunter play again.
He lived in NYC for a while but came to Greensboro, for one, because the cost of living is much less expensive. And also, maybe, because there is lots of great music here including the UNCG jazz program.
Hunter has a new album out with jazz singer Lucy Woodward that I am sure is silky smooth. It was recorded (guess where?) right here in High Point, NC.
Perhaps I will give it a listen, Youtube, I think.
I am appreciative of you all. Thanks for reading.
I Swing
By Kahlulee Kahleelee
I swing
I sit
I bop, I roll into the the theater
Red carpets
And starlight
That expansive stage
Drums waiting
Mike waiting to be taken
And filled with melody and soul
I swing and shake, mutter and quake
Cheered on by my ancestors
And my heart croons
From the inside out
From the inside out
I let the jazz roll over me
From the speaker above
From the speaker above
That lies never
If one listens
To the tide
The murmur
The intelligence
That we are
We are
So big
Not this little particle
So big
The tune sings
Out
Like a magician
Soothing my soul
Sax man playing sax tunes
Because it feels good
Because that is part of him
His vehicle to heaven
The Weary Blues
It is wondrous to think that one man can play two instruments at once. Not unheard of, guitar and harmonica (Bob Dylan), drums and didgeridoo ( Xavier Rudd), bass guitar and vocals (Sting), drums and vocals (Neil Peart); I once saw the Dave Mathews Band saxophone player play two saxophones simultaneously. I would love to hear Charlie Hunter play again.
He lived in NYC for a while but came to Greensboro, for one, because the cost of living is much less expensive. And also, maybe, because there is lots of great music here including the UNCG jazz program.
Hunter has a new album out with jazz singer Lucy Woodward that I am sure is silky smooth. It was recorded (guess where?) right here in High Point, NC.
Perhaps I will give it a listen, Youtube, I think.
I am appreciative of you all. Thanks for reading.
I Swing
By Kahlulee Kahleelee
I swing
I sit
I bop, I roll into the the theater
Red carpets
And starlight
That expansive stage
Drums waiting
Mike waiting to be taken
And filled with melody and soul
I swing and shake, mutter and quake
Cheered on by my ancestors
And my heart croons
From the inside out
From the inside out
I let the jazz roll over me
From the speaker above
From the speaker above
That lies never
If one listens
To the tide
The murmur
The intelligence
That we are
We are
So big
Not this little particle
So big
The tune sings
Out
Like a magician
Soothing my soul
Sax man playing sax tunes
Because it feels good
Because that is part of him
His vehicle to heaven
The Weary Blues
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
He did a lazy sway. . . .
He did a lazy sway. . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man’s soul.
O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—
“Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
And put ma troubles on the shelf.”
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
He did a lazy sway. . . .
He did a lazy sway. . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man’s soul.
O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—
“Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
And put ma troubles on the shelf.”
Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more—
“I got the Weary Blues
And I can’t be satisfied.
Got the Weary Blues
And can’t be satisfied—
I ain’t happy no mo’
And I wish that I had died.”
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.
He played a few chords then he sang some more—
“I got the Weary Blues
And I can’t be satisfied.
Got the Weary Blues
And can’t be satisfied—
I ain’t happy no mo’
And I wish that I had died.”
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.
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