an old writer and his words

  • LIONEL HAMPTON AND THE GOLDEN MEN OF JAZZ

    Blue Note, pardonour constructionblack paintedplasterboarda hangingair conditioning duct. Grady Tatesneering at the skinsgrowling at a high hathands shiftingdeftly reaching inpicking a beatand sliding itover the crowd. Jimmy Woodeblind to the lightsslides his fingersover stringsand talks to the bassresting on his shoulder.It sings backbegging , pleadingdemanding as his headsways with an inner vision. Junior Mancesways slowly…

    Lou Faber

  • AMERICAN IDOL

    He was well on his wayto achieving his dreamof being a musical idol. He had long since masteredthe air guitar, could shredwith the best, Hendrix,Clapton, and he had conqueredthe piano fingerings of mostof the Billy Joel Songbook,his paper keyboard worn flat. Clarence Clemons was provinga serious challenge, the air saxwas by reputation the mostdifficult of…

    Lou Faber

  • PERCUSSION

    After years of going to live jazzI’ve honed my skills to a fine level.I still know next to nothingabout the intricacies of the music,five years of classical piano andI barely understand Bach and Mozart. But I know where to look, whobears watching in the combo,and it isn’t the trumpeter, hewith his ballooning cheeks, someclownish bellows,…

    Lou Faber

  • SWING

    The sax swings freely rising and falling on the notes he coaxes out, dancing around the bass’s rhythm, the brushes caressing the drum heads. You close your eyes and allow the music to carry you off. It is at the set’s end when he unfolds the white cane that you see you share a common blindness.

    Lou Faber