The Jazz Kid by James Lincoln Collier

Author:James Lincoln Collier
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AudioGO
Published: 2013-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

THAT SUMMER I got it. It came all in a rush, almost in five minutes. One minute I was trying to figure out what jazz was, and the next minute it was coming out of the bell of my cornet. Why it happened when it did I’ll never know. It was one of those times they were using the room at Hull House for a dancing class and I was over at Rory’s. Of course Pa wasn’t going to let me lay around the house all summer playing the cornet, and took me out on jobs whenever he figured I could make myself useful. But a lot of days he couldn’t use me and let me stay home. I was getting in a lot of practice.

By this time Rory had got used to jazz. He’d heard the Rhythm Kings’ record of “Farewell Blues” so many times he didn’t have any choice but get used to it. I had six or seven records by then. Tommy had given me a couple that were pretty near worn out, and every once in a while at some kid’s house I’d come across a good jazz record mixed in with pop stuff like the Aaronson’s Commanders or the Benson Orchestra of Chicago, and I’d beg it off him. I had two King Olivers, another Rhythm Kings, the Original Dixieland Jazz Band’s “Livery Stable Blues,” which made them famous, a Louisiana Five, and a couple more. I had to keep them at Rory’s and take a chance on Mrs. Flynn breaking one when she got to drinking beer and crying. She didn’t care much for that kind of music anyway, she said. “Danny Boy” by John McCormack was more her speed.

Jazz was getting to be all the rage that summer of 1923. Every time you turned around somebody was raving over a swell new record, a swell new musician, a swell new band. It seemed like every week King Oliver or Jelly Roll Morton or the Rhythm Kings had a new record out. Tommy was talking about a new cornet player named Bix something, who was with a band called the Wolverines. Of course the blues had been hot for a couple of years, and Bessie Smith was getting to be big. I couldn’t hear most of these people, because naturally Ma wouldn’t let me stay out that late. It made me feel left out of things, like when everybody else is going to a picnic and you can’t go because you’re sick in bed.

Anyway, jazz was getting to be a big number. Rory wanted to be in on it, so he was game to let me practice over at his house. We’d take the phonograph out on his porch. Rory would practice spitting through the clotheslines down onto the kids in the yard, and I’d play along with records.

I was playing along with Oliver’s “Snake Rag,” when all of a sudden jazz began to come out of the bell of my cornet. I was so surprised I stopped dead.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.