revelation?
(thought)
So I finally have a recording of me playing jazz that I like.
Does it mean I'm not afraid of playing jazz anymore?
Or is it just some momentary delusion of gradeur...
Only time will tell.
(end thought)
Tonight I pulled some shit off at my radio show. I knew that the recording of my (I thought to be) awesome recital from last week existed, but I missed my friend and couldn't get a copy. I wanted to maybe play it tonight on my show. Midnite rolls around, I play my show's new theme song (Eddie Harris/Les McCann - Compared To What) and expect a boring, run-of-the-mill night. And then my cell rings. Usually I don't notice b/c it's on total silence, but I had it open on the console tonight. Jordan, bass player, forgets I have show, but calls to tell me about how great the recital is. I tell him to get his ass to the station so it can be featured as the 1am Triple Play. Normally, I wouldn't even want to play my stuff, let alone feature it. I call Maureen (boss) at about 12:50 or so, to tell her my evil plan and see if she was listening. I knew that playing it wouldn't be a problem, but Jordan was bugging me about getting on-air. I was very against it, but Maureen tells me to interview him! Ok...
Jordan is the shit, but interviewing a sophmore bass player from Cherry Hill isn't exactly what I expected. Not to say I was skeptical of him being on-air, but I know how nerve-wracking the first time is. Long story short, we killed that shit! The recital sounds incredible, we had meaningful, intelligent conversations about the music and still got in our college-kids sense of humor. It was a blast. The 1am Triple Play didn't end until 1:40! Even though Maureen didn't listen, just from my describing it, apparently I did a great job.
I did all this with about 25 minutes notice and 3 hours of sleep. Oy.
Last day of class tomorrow. Pop Song Writing class recital. I'm singing. Oh lord.
Study days = sleeping days.
So I finally have a recording of me playing jazz that I like.
Does it mean I'm not afraid of playing jazz anymore?
Or is it just some momentary delusion of gradeur...
Only time will tell.
(end thought)
Tonight I pulled some shit off at my radio show. I knew that the recording of my (I thought to be) awesome recital from last week existed, but I missed my friend and couldn't get a copy. I wanted to maybe play it tonight on my show. Midnite rolls around, I play my show's new theme song (Eddie Harris/Les McCann - Compared To What) and expect a boring, run-of-the-mill night. And then my cell rings. Usually I don't notice b/c it's on total silence, but I had it open on the console tonight. Jordan, bass player, forgets I have show, but calls to tell me about how great the recital is. I tell him to get his ass to the station so it can be featured as the 1am Triple Play. Normally, I wouldn't even want to play my stuff, let alone feature it. I call Maureen (boss) at about 12:50 or so, to tell her my evil plan and see if she was listening. I knew that playing it wouldn't be a problem, but Jordan was bugging me about getting on-air. I was very against it, but Maureen tells me to interview him! Ok...
Jordan is the shit, but interviewing a sophmore bass player from Cherry Hill isn't exactly what I expected. Not to say I was skeptical of him being on-air, but I know how nerve-wracking the first time is. Long story short, we killed that shit! The recital sounds incredible, we had meaningful, intelligent conversations about the music and still got in our college-kids sense of humor. It was a blast. The 1am Triple Play didn't end until 1:40! Even though Maureen didn't listen, just from my describing it, apparently I did a great job.
I did all this with about 25 minutes notice and 3 hours of sleep. Oy.
Last day of class tomorrow. Pop Song Writing class recital. I'm singing. Oh lord.
Study days = sleeping days.