I am watching "I shot andy warhol." Should be asleep, but I like Lily Taylor. I mean... she's cute.
Or maybe I should sleep and I'll just get it from Netflix sometime... watch it through without commercials.
Tonight I saw the "Langston Hughes Project" perform on campus. One, great music. I stared at the pianist the entire time. I was watching how he moved, head bob, sway, bounce, shake... lips squeench up and mutter the beat, bam-be-bop-ba-do... Fingertips doing the tango and swing-dancing on the keys. And he, the pianist, the bassist, and the drummer all are not mentioned on the project's website, so its my guess they are not always the ones to perform. But Ron McCurdy and John Wright have the sax, horn, flute, and spoken word down. Yeah... "Ask Your Mama: 12 Moods for Jazz." I asked Rob (the pianist) if there's going to be a CD. He said to look for a DVD on the website sometime. That's cool... It'd be almost 2 hours long, music and Langston Hughes' rhymes and rhythms.
Its made me wanna write. BUT by the time I got my ass back to the apartment... I didn't know where to start. I have a concept though, and it will take time and effort, but it will come out when I have the energy and resources.
Damn, I do love jazz. Not elevator jazz. But jazz that makes your body rock. Jazz that makes your soul leap from toes to fingertips. Jazz that has lyrics within itself, unwritten and without tangible words.
Its been a damn long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment