IN SEARCH OF CHARLES EARLAND or REQUIEM FOR A JAZZ CLUB

By Alan Leeds

What do you mean “no smoking”? It’s already too bright in here. What would Herman Leonard’s pictures of Billie Holiday be without smoke? A fella can’t just be lookin’ at these musicians all night long, you dig? You NEED some damn atmosphere up in here. And who the Hell wants to drink without a cigarette? One of these lazy ass barmaids told me the long intermissions are for selling drinks. But what about while the music’s poppin’? Don’t people want a drink…Hell, don’t people NEED a drink while the music’s poppin’? Don’t we wanna feel like the music sounds? As long as there’s no damn singer up there screamin’ for our attention, there ain’t much to watch anyhow. Everybody knows jazz ain’t watchin’ music – it’s feelin’ music. And feelin’ wants a damn drink!

Matter of fact, you need to put those bands back to the old 40 minutes on/20 minutes off. Folks shouldn’t ever be more than 20 mins away from the music. Then the doggone musicians won’t have ‘nuff time to get so damn comfortable in the dressing rooms. Cuz these young musicians are too damn healthy now anyway! All pimply faced and dressed all square. What am I payin’ to see, a college class up there? Yeah they plenty smart and they can play and all, but they ain’t got no scars. This music s’posed to have scars, damnit! These guys ain’t got no stories to tell. What they gonna talk about from those horns, the Dean? Their degree? These musicians need to graduate from the STREETS before they be playin’ up there. Where else they gonna get any adventure. Adventures of substance, I mean.

And speaking of substance, they shouldn’t be ashamed if they NEED a little substance to PLAY with some substance, you know what I’m sayin’? Now I’m not tryin’ to sponsor no addictions, you understand. But a little street substance up on the bandstand never hurt anything. Can’t fault nobody for nodding through some of those long Coltrane-ass solos those boys be tryin’ to play! Matter of fact it adds to the adventure. Adventures of substance – that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Hell, that’s what JAZZ is talkin’ ‘bout.

This music is s’posed to have some surprises sometimes. I remember once old Bobby Timmons said, "Dis Here"…...but then he played "Dat Dere"! Oooh, that was a highlight! The whole room fell silent. Didn’t know if we were comin’ or goin’. Here or Dere? Just think. Had everybody in there confused ‘bout what was here or what was dere! I never forgot that! Bet Bobby Timmons didn’t neither. (Well, maybe HE did.)

But you know what? Back then, no matter how those cats mighta been dippin’ or sniffin’ or whatever, they still hit the bandstand clean as the board of health. Esquire Magazine said Miles was a fashion plate! THAT’S why the ladies were all up in these clubs. Those cats were smooth as their music. Chicks be fightin’ over sittin’ close to the bandstand. Fightin’ over who was goin’ home with the cats. I mean we don’t need no Lee Morgan shoot-em-ups but a few catfights in the audience never hurt the image. And for us fellas who just dig the music, a few fine phillies sittin’ at the bar gives us sumthin’ to do. Hell, even if they professional girls, at least they’d give you some chat.

And if you bought a chick some bar-b-que? Whoo-wee. Shoot, anything might happen! That’s somethin’ else. This damn food. It’s too healthy tastin’! Fact it ain’t tastin’ at all! That ain’t jazz. You need some stick to the ribs style food not this cuisine style food. Bring back some bar-b-que. Shit, even a jar or two of pickled pigs feet sitting on the bar would look righteous!

Now that's what JAZZ is all about, babe! Know what I'm sayin'? Smoke, sex, drinkin’ and druggin’, greasy food.....c'mon, if you got all that then you know the joint would be jumpin'!!!

The music??? Huh? Oh, yeah, the music…..Hmmm......... Well, I mean if all that other good shit is goin' on in the club, I guess it doesn’t much matter. You know, long as it's got that beat, baby. You need that beat. That adventure of substance beat! You know, some Charles Earland shit.........yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Big ol’ Charles Earland. That’s what we need up in here. ALL them big butt girls love that organ shit! Shoot…you get ol’ Charles Earland in here and everyone who didn't go to jail would go home happy!
Just like the "good" old days.