MY LIFE COVERING JAZZ

I love jazz music. Just let me get that out the way first. I’ve been this way ever since my mentor, playwright Bill Harris, loaned me his copy of Eric Dolphy’s album Live at the Five Spot Volume One, and Prince Lasha’s Firebirds. I was so smitten after listening to those albums that I wanted to borrow more. Harris allowed me to do so. In return, I had to mow his lawn every Saturday. He hated doing yard work. That was about fifteen years ago, and I’ve been a jazz fiend since. I’m particularly fond of jazz musicians. The way they dress, their language, their coolness, and the beautiful array of sounds they get from their instruments.

Unfortunately, I can’t play one damn musical note, although I have to admit that occasionally I’ve fantasize about being a jazz pianist with the same facility as my favorite pianists Gene Harris, Craig Taborn, Cyrus Chestnut, and Don Pullen who have me salivating whenever I listen to their playing.

Although I’m not a jazz musician by trade, I feel blessed. For ten years, I have been writing about this music for one of the most respected weekly newspaper in Michigan the Metrotimes. In 1996, The Monitor, a weekly newspaper published my first jazz article. That year Arts Midwest honored saxophonist Donald Walden with their Jazz Master’s award. I wrote about him receiving the distinction. The Arts editor at the Metrotimes got a hold of the story. He liked it, and he asked if I wanted to cover jazz for the paper.

I accepted without hesitation. In 1994, I began freelancing for a mom & pop newspaper based in Detroit. Back then, I wasn’t interested in becoming any sort of musician journalist. I was interested only in writing human interest pieces. My first published story for the paper was about a van club that offered food and shelter to the homeless. The Walden story caught my eye because I was just getting into jazz music, and I thought his playing was something special.

The invitation to write for the Metrotimes was a godsend. I never imagined that I’d get the to interview jazz icons such as Horace Silver, Richard Davis, Sonny Rollins, Branford Marsalis, Kenny Garrett, and many others. I never really thought that I was qualified or deserved to talk with those great artists. When I first called Horace Silver I was so nervous that when the pianist answered his telephone I hung up like a teenager afraid to ask a pretty girl for a date. When I finally got my nerves together, the interview was amazing although Silver had a tough time remembering key areas of his career. Anyway, I felt as if I was listening to one of the old-timers in the neighborhood tell a bunch of stories about the good old days of jazz.

I’ve gotten a lot inspiration from some local musicians that I’ve interviewed. I admire Vincent Chandler, Gerard Gibbs, and Penny Wells because of their determination to be successful musicians.

My favorite interviews were with Ravi Coltrane who I connected with like he had been by running budding for years, and Regina Carter who was warm and eloquent. She talked to me like I was her favorite sibling.

I’ve gotten loads of pleasure from covering jazz. I feel valued when people tell me they’ve been reading my articles for years, and when musicians that I have written about tells me that what I wrote about them helped them to secure gigs. That’s the best form of payment that I could ever receive.

What makes covering jazz worthwhile is the recognition that I get from readers and jazz musicians. Plus, the editors that I’ve worked for over the years trust me enough to allow me to run wild.

My life in jazz life gets better with every great jazz album that I listen to, every up and coming musician that I write about, and every mind blowing jazz concert that I attend.

DISCOVERING RED GARDLAND

She and I have been friends for over fifteen years now. We have a lot of things in common. The most valued is our love for jazz music. Over the years, we have gone to some amazing jazz concerts. We saw pianist Cyrus Chestnut in Flint, Michigan one winter. It was the first time she had experienced the pianist live although she’s been a big fan every since I loaned her his albums “Revelations,” “ The Dark Before The Dawn,” and “Earth Stories”. During the concert she impressed me by naming the compositions Chestnut played, and the order in which they appeared on the albums.

She forced me to see trumpeter Wynton Marsalis at Orchestra Hall in Detroit. I didn’t care much for his music. The trumpeter was too much of a clean-cut traditionalist for my taste. But I went to the gig anyway. Marsalis floored and converted me. He swung from the time he walked onto the stage until he exited to a thunderous ovation. As we left the concert, my friend made me retract every bad thing I’ve every uttered about Marsalis. I have been an admirer of his music every since.

Recently, we attended saxophonist James Carter performance at the Detroit Institute of the Arts. I thought this was her first time hearing the saxophonist, but she surprised me when she revealed she saw in New York. Then she said something that I thought was really hip. Carter is such a gifted saxophonist he could blow into a garden hose and make it sound good. I never told her the Carter is probably my favorite jazz musicians in the world, and that I listen to his music damn near everyday. During intermission, she told me that a co-worker loaned her two recordings by pianist Red Garland. Now Garland has taken Cyrus Chestnut place as her favorite jazz pianist.

In my late 20’s, when I first began listening to jazz, Garland was the first pianist that I fell for. His playing was unrushed and relaxed. He played each musical note and bar with the care of a parent bathing a newborn. “Soul Junction” is my favorite Red Garland Album. His solo on the title cut gives me goose bumps over my entire body every time I listen to it. I recommended this album to my friend. But I didn’t loan it to her. We stopped loaning each other music a few years ago. She still has several of my Cyrus Chestnut albums, and I refuse to return the Dinah Washington album that she let me borrow until she returns my Chestnut recordings.

She called me a few weeks ago. She had just returned home from Chicago. There she went to Jazz Mart, a record store that sales only jazz music. She purchased “Soul Junction”. The sales clerk tried to get her to purchase another Garland album that he thought was better. But she stuck with my recommendation. She listened to the album on her way back to Detroit. She is more in love with Garland now than ever. She was so enthusiastic she inspired me to blow the dust off my Garland album's and to take another listen. The music still sounds great.

As I write about my friend and our jazz friendship, I’m listening to “Soul Junction”. Garland is soloing on “I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good). He’s strolling through the solo like he’s walking his dog at the Park. I’m really fortunate, to own such great music, and to be able to share it with an appreciative friend.