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The ability to convey enthusiasm for jazz is a rare gift. Not all who have it are willing to apply their talent
as wordsmith or exponent in assisting others, who are not intuitively captivated by it, to appreciate jazz. The great stride pianist Thomas Fats Waller, when asked by a lady of mature years to explain jazz, is reputed to have said, :"If you don't know at your age, don't mess with it". On the other hand Keith Nichols of the greatest jazz pianists of our time, internationally acclaimed virtuoso performer, musicologist, and a leading exponent of Fats Waller's style, finds time to visit schools and fire the enthusiasm of future generations for the jazz that is life blood for him and for others who share in this art form which is so magically uplifting yet difficult to describe. If we are to accept apocryphal anecdotes, Fats Waller, when asked what rhythm was, retorted, "If you don't know you ain't got it." But the Irish American Frank McCourt, in his Memoir 'Tis', published in 1999 by Flamingo, an Imprint of Harpercollins Publishers, London, as a sequel to Angela's Ashes, includes in Chapter 28 an outstanding description of the euphoria that can be induced by jazz. Frank McCourt sets the scene in New York for his exceptionally fine and rare description of the appreciation of jazz. NO apology is necessary for giving the following full quotation:-
"Frankie and Danny Lennon are twins, Irish-Americans. Frankie lives in another apartment and Danny is a boarder with Mary. Their Father, John, lives on the streets, wanders around with a pint of wine in a brown paper bag, and cleans Mary's apartment in exchange for a shower, a sandwich and a few drinks. His sons laugh and sing, "Oh, my Papa, to me he was so wonderful."
"Frankie and Danny take classes at City College, one of the best colleges in the country and free. Even though they're studying accounting they're always excited over their courses in literature. Frankie talks about seeing a girl on the subway reading James Joyce's 'A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and how anxious he was to sit beside earlier and discuss Joyce. All the way from Thirty-Fourth Street to 181st Street he would leave his seat and move towards her, never having the courage to talk to her, and losing his seat each time to another passenger. At last when the train pulled into 181st Street he bent to her and said,"Great book, isn't it?" and she jerked back from him and let out a cry. He wanted to tell her "Sorry, sorry" but the doors were closing and he was out on the platform with people in the train glaring at him.
"They love jazz and they're like two mad professors in the living-room, putting records on the phonograph, clicking their fingers to the beat, telling me all about the great musicians on the Benny Goodman record, Gene Crupa, Harry James, Lionel Hampton, Benny himself. They tell me this was the greatest jazz concert of all time and the first time a black man was allowed on the Carnegie Hall stage. And listen to him, listen to Lionel Hampton, all -velvet and glide, listen to him and Benny coming in, listen, and here comes Harry sending in a few notes to tell you watch out, I'm flying, I'm flying, and Crupa going bap-bap-bap-d-bap-de-bap, hands, feet going, sing sing sing, and the whole damn band wild, man, wild, and the audience, listen to that audience, outa their mind, man, outa their ever-lovin' mind.
"They play Count Basie, point their fingers and laugh when the Count hits those single notes, and when they play Duke Elliligton they're all over the living room clicking fingers and stopping to tell me, "Listen, listen to this" and I listen because I never listened like this before and now I hear what I never heard before and I have to laugh with the Lennons when the musicians take passages from tunes and turn them upside down and inside out and put them back again as if to say, "look, look, we borrowed your little tune a while to play our own way, but don't worry but don't worry, here it's back again and you go hum it, honey, you sing that Mother, man.
"The Irish boarders complain this is just a lot of noise. Paddy Arthur McGovern say, sure, yeer not Irish at all with that stuff. What about some Irish songs on that muchine? What about a few Irish dance tunes?
"The Lennons laugh and tell us their Father left the bogs a long time ago. Danny says, this is America, men. This is the music. But Paddy Arthur pulls Duke Ellington off the phonograph and puts on Frank Lee's Tara Ceilidhe Band and we sit around the living room, listening, tapping s1ightly and not moving our faces. The Lennons laugh, and leave."
Frank McCourt's inspired description is strikingly evocative of past experiences for those who have been infected with the jazz virus. Nevertheless, our memories are selective in deciding what is to be retained and I was very surprised and delighted recently on meeting with a younger contemporary from College days in Manchester when Ian said that he would always be grateful for my having introduced him to traditional jazz.
My fascination with traditional jazz pre-dates my teens when I haunted the music shops in Birmingham listening to jazz records, and the now legendary bands of Mick Mulligan with George Melly, Humphrey Lyttleton with Bruce Turner, Wally Fawkes and the Christie Brothers, and Mike Daniels, and occasional visits from the Dutch Swing College, and I also recall Sydney Bechet, all at Birmingham Town Hall. Then at the long since disappeared Bodega Restaurant in Cross Street, Manchester, which was a regular Saturday night venue for the best of British traditional jazz. I felt lifted off this planet by the Ken Collyer all star band led by Ken and including Chris Barber, Monty Sunshine, and with Lonnie Donegan's Skiffle Group in the interval, and with Beryl Bryden appearing there too. Marvellous impressionable days. To be reminded by a friend that I introduced him to it all, and that he too has enjoyed a lifetime of the uplifting experience that jazz can give, leaves a warm feeling of having been a useful instrument.
Frederick Thomas Poole
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