This week I would like to put the spotlight on a new MySpace friend, Roby Edwards. Mr. Edwards has a very warm, inviting tone and I’m pretty sure you will dig what he is laying down. I am also adding tunes by the Buddy Collette Quintet, Perry Como, Jo Stafford, Jimmy Smith, Coleman Hawkins, the Dudley Moore Trio, Don Ellis and Hoagy Carmichael. Hope you guys have a happy, COOL week.
 http://www.myspace.com/robyjazz Â
So today I had lunch at a little pizza place called Michelangelo’s here in the city (if you ever visit Nashville, stop by on a Friday night and hear some good jazz). After lunch I’m walking through the tiny parking lot to return to my car and I encounter the host of my humiliation. Standing in the parking lot is a security guard. Well…is that what you would call him? I don’t know. Let me describe him to you and you tell me what he is. I’d say he was around five eight, weighed MAYBE a buck 0 five if he were wet and holding a cinder block. He wore coke bottle glasses, black dress pants and a thin – so thin you could see the prominence of his shoulder blades – tee shirt that had “Polite But Firm” written on the back of it. I think he may have had an afro. It was hard to tell because the back of his fro was pulled into what some would call a ponytail and others would simply call a mess.
Now, I don’t question one’s occupation. So the fact that this gentlemen spent all day watching twenty parking spots was none of my concern. A job is a job. I did find the fact that this guy was so thin I could see through him a bit disconcerting, though. I mean, I’m not Hercules, but I’m not acting as a bouncer in some desolate little parking lot either. But if I WERE a security guard at a 20 space parking lot, I WOULD NOT wear a tee shirt that had “Polite But Firm” written on the back. Is that supposed to intimidate? Aunt Bea was polite but firm and I don’t recall anyone in Mayberry soiling their shorts when she came around. No, if I had to wear a security tee shirt, I think the print on my back would be a little bit more foreboding. Perhaps “Heavily Armed” or “Former Member Of The Black Panther Party” or my personal favorite “Sometimes I Hear Voices And They Are All Telling Me To Whoop Yo A–”. So you see my point. “Polite But Firm” is a handshake, not a phrase that places fear into the hearts of men.
Anyway, to make a long story a tad bit longer…As I approached my car, the “security guard” looked over at me. I gave him the “hello without having to speak” nod and he starts laughing. What the…? And it wasn’t a chuckle. I mean it was like this guy just read the funniest joke ever and for some reason that joke was written on my face. It was a toothy laugh which made it even worse. It was like God was watching me and whispered something into this guy’s ear and they were both having a nice laugh at my expense. Do you know how that feels? When someone who YOU should be laughing at beats you to the punch and pretty much guffaws right in your face. Can you imagine what that does to one’s self-esteem? It’s equivalent to being picked last for kickball or throwing up on your prom date before she officially agrees to go with you to the prom. Maybe in his world coke bottle glasses, retarded afros and dress slacks with tee shirts tucked into them is the norm. Maybe I was an oddity to him. Or maybe his glasses were so thick I looked like what you see when you walk in front of those weird mirrors at the circus. I don’t know. All I know is that it scarred me. No one likes to be laughed at, especially when they don’t know what the hell is so funny.
I would have kicked the guy but I was mesmerized by his huge eyes and fro tail. Maybe next time I will give him a polite but firm number one with my middle finger.
I wanted to write a little bit about some of the movies I’ve seen over the last few weeks since I haven’t written about a fillm since Click and I’ve seen quite a few since then. Only thing is I’M HOT!! Are you kidding me??? This is borderline unbearable. I went to visit my friend Jimi yesterday and after I rang the doorbell to his house I could feel the little droplets of perspiration gathering on my forehead. That was like 30 seconds from the car to the front door and already I was beginning to sweat. I thought, “If he doesn’t open the front door in 10 seconds, screw it, I’m going home.” There’s nothing worse than having a sweaty crotch. At least when it’s freezing cold, my crotch is dry. I hate extremes. Too hot or too cold. At times like this I miss the winter. God created winter so we would appreciate summer and he created summer so we’d appreciate how hell would feel. Repent! Air should not be so muggy you can chew it. Geez!!! It’s completely maddening. I stopped after work today and got an ice cream cone from Baskin-Robbins. I walked out of the store and by the time I walked the fifteen feet to my car it was already melting down my hand. What the hell?? I hate it! Who do I have to sleep with to get Kyoto signed? Hm? The one thing I hated about Al Gore’s film “The Inconvenient Truth” was when he mentioned the election. You know why? Because it allowed people who hate Al Gore to ignore the inconvenient truth. But the truth is, convenient or not, it is hot! And it’s only getting hotter. Something has to be done. This is not normal. If I could speak to George W. right now, I’d first tell him to stop making funny faces, then I’d ask him to please do something about my sweaty crotch.
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That’s right. And I’m not ashamed to say it. And why? Because Meilana Gillard’s version of “In A Sentimental Mood” is one of the most enthralling renditions of the song I have ever heard. Technically flawless, inventive, colorful. Her improvisations are dead on and I dare anyone out there to show me a better contemporary version of the song. I used to think no one could ever beat the Coltrane/Ellington combo. That version of the song has to be the quintessential one. Then I heard Sonny Rollins play it and that one just knocked me out. I mean, as much as I love what Coltrane did with the song, I’m almost tempted to say that I love the Rollins version even more. I shudder sometimes listening to that deep tenor with the tasty little vibes comping behind him. Incredibly romantic. Django’s version ain’t bad either. Fact is, it would be very hard to screw up “In A Sentimental Mood” no matter who played it. But you know what? All of the aforementioned versions of the song were played slow and easy, meditative. The song is a ballad. I’d never really heard it played at medium tempo and especially not at a fast tempo. Then I heard Ms. Gillard’s version.
Before I continue, let me give you an idea of why this praise for Ms. Gillard’s song is genuine and not at all profitable to me.
What’s the worst thing about running a little radio station on the web? One doesn’t get paid for persuing their passion. What’s the best thing about it? One doesn’t get paid for persuing their passion. What I mean is Dimensions In Jazz, Forever Cool, Evening Melancholy — we play what we play because we love the music. Not because some boss tells us this is what we have to play, not because society dictates to us what the top 40 tunes are. We play what we want and spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars a year of our own money simply because we adore the music and the people who make it. Having said that, you should now realize that my praise of Meilana Gillard’s song is not provoked by any perks. It simply comes out of absolute admiration.
Art is subjective, I know. Lester Bangs wrote an entire glowing article on Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks album — he loved it so much (as do I). I gave that album to people and they just shrugged. You can’t point to art and say that this is objectively beautiful. It doesn’t work that way. You could listen to Gillard’s version of “In A Sentimental Mood” and shrug as well, and you would be absolutely right in doing so. You have a right to your opinion. But so do I. And all I can say is that from intro to coda this tune is pure magic to me. The arrangement is brilliant. What Gillard does in her improvisation is an adrenaline rush in itself. And it’s not the big swooping changes that get me. It’s the little things she does. It’s the little flourishes, the hints of her personality within the tune that get me. Bird could do that, Lester Young as well. The little things like when I hear Vince Guaraldi play “O Tannebaum” and I hear that little *ding* right before he digs further into his improvisation. That one note adds so much color to the song. Gillard does that a few times with “Mood” and it’s like she’s giving us a little smirk.
I don’t often go on and on about a certain song, but I’ve listened to this one at least two or three times a day for the past week and I still notice little nuances that I didn’t hear before. And maybe you think that this is a bit much just for one tune. But Kenny G has sold millions of albums and not once has he knocked me out with any of his tunes like Ms. Gillard has with her arrangement and her playing. This is jazz. This is why I play this music and read about this music and lust for this music. Tunes like this one make me feel alive. They make me feel like someone gets it!
So, yes, I’ve become a Gillard groupie. And I’m proud of it!