So what?

And Boplicity as it turned out, and various other tunes of the era (4.56pm on October 32nd 1957, I think)

Sunday at the Leinster Arms, ancient hostelry (by Australian standards* anyway), Kay opened the innings by singing up a storm with Georgia, Stormy Weather and a few other show tunes , Taariq on bass, Mr Hirsh on drum thingies, all reduced to a state of musical mayhem by Captain Chaos blowing up a storm on his sax. Then a sit down, with an appreciative audience (well, they didn't leave, and some took their ear plugs out), suitably refreshed with Carlton Daft, Ned's Red and other varieties of lunatic soup. Frank's elegant bass took over and drove things along nicely for a while, jazz tyro Al - almost in the all time top 6,396 for drumming (but not quite...) took a stint on the drums, the aforementioned Col took his leave for a rehearsal in Dandenong, and some one whose name I will eventually get played soprano sax. Exquisitely. I don't even like soprano sax as a rule, but warmed to it rapidly.  Keith and Jack joined in for some big band style numbers. All in all, a typical jam session, except that Paul (trombone), who leaps onto bass every week and hopefully plays the opening riff of So What, actually got his chance to play it as a closing number, and absolutely smoked it. I don't even like So What as a rule, but...

...so what?




* this is ironic. Australia doesn't have any standards. If it did, they would have been stolen from New Zealand or something, and this wasn't possible, as New Zealand hadn't been colonised by the Poms, and all standards were in Maori, which is admirable but incomprehensible.

Telemarketers

Brrrt... Brrrt...  Hello?
Hello - I am calling from the (insert name of company you have never heard of). How are you today?
Are you try to sell me something?
Oh no, I am just calling to.....
I'm sorry, I only take sales calls. Goodbye.
Click
Pfft - works for me!

More Guidance for Jazz Jam Sessions

Dubious guidance, of course... originally written for the edification of jam session regulars in Melbourne Australia, but it will be just as irrelevant wherever you are...

How to sing in one easy lesson:

Open the gargle full wide and breathe in through the catskills. Adopt stance of herniated french onion seller and crease the visage with a sternly emotive look. Or just squint at the lights. After letting the band play the intro four times, come in on the 5^th beat of the 23^rd bar. Screech or howl convincingly (screech is for ballads, howl is for blues) and collect applause, lippy, handbag and someone else's cheeky little chardonnay on the way out. 

How to play the saxaphone in one easy lesson:

Grasp the fernuggle by the snotter, and take a read of the manual. Lick the read so no-one else will pinch it, and spread the fingies evenly over the rattly buttons. If feeling posh, cock the pinky and stand at the front with weight evenly spread over three or four feet. Adjust snotter, check zip and epiglottal your way through 16 bars. Repeat until cooked...

How to play bass in one easy lesson:

Lugubrious is the look, as in "I play bass, and no-one ever lets me take a solo, and even if they do, the friggin' bass is no good for soloing anyway." Bass players are to jazz what Eeyore is to Winnie the Pooh.

How to play piano in one easy lesson:

Not tellin'. Too many of them already. Smug bastards generally.

How to play accordion in one easy lesson:

This should not be attempted under any circumstances. The definition of a gentleman is someone who owns an accordion but does not play it.