It is late in life to come to Jack Kerouac. But having come to Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton, early in life, and learned their licks, listened to their art, perhaps I can be excused. It is wonderful now to meet Jack Kerouac. Almost enough to wish that I hadn’t embarked on a music career. Though were it the opposite, and I now heard Wes Montgomery, I’d probably wonder why I didn’t hear that music in my youth and why I wasted my time reading books.
To read a page of Jack Kerouac is to listen to a chorus by Charlie Parker, a solo by Wes Montgomery. Wes played songs, not jazz solos, but melodies, crafted on the spur of the moment. Wes was the greatest storyteller of mainstream jazz. He played like Buble sings, relaxed and comfortable, like Whitney hitting her high notes, strident and reaching, and always like the lounging Frank Sinatra. Wes was to the guitar what Kerouac was to the page.
It’s a joy to know both, and like cute puppies that makes me happy.
What makes you happy?
3 responses so far ↓
Rosie // March 8, 2010 at 9:35 am |
Great music, a child’s smile, and right now, hearing the rain on the roof.
fender4eva // March 8, 2010 at 2:18 pm |
Charlie Christian soaring above the Benny Goodman Orchestra, in Solo Flight and only around 21 years old when he did it. Sublime stuff……
wollywally // March 10, 2010 at 9:25 pm |
A good joke at nobody exspences makes me happy, a good night sleep too, and lissening to a good soprano singing, great post love ooxx