Hustlin' Soul Jazz to the beat on the street/
Straight ahead Hank Mobley Art Blakey Seven Steps to the cool sounds of Harlem, diggin' deep into the subway, Harlem-148 St get off, take off/
whatcha say, bright moments, Man, bright moments the Pharoah Sanders way Milestones on the eight track Blue Mitchall's trumpet at the Sweet Basil, a jazz club in New York City's Greenwich Village/ a great place to play jazz and hang with no big pay day/
Wow, what a scene, Cecil McBee, Leroy Jenkins, Junior Mance, heavy heavy hitters of the jazz day/
So dig this, don't forget Wynton Kelly and his trio/
cool jazz covers and slick sleeves to get the record-buyin' hipster to hit on vinyl. Man, let me get you a bird's eye view, cause there ain't no cover charge to dig these words to view
He's 'King of the Home'
in his high chair and gown,
takin' his feedin's with
dreams of bein' downtown;
his jazz band was playin'
he'd swing and he'd sway;
he remembers those times
like it was yesterday.
Sneakin' drinks from old Joe,
playin' cards in the back,
goin' upstairs with Lil
so he don't lose the knack!
He's behavin' hisself,
but he ain't forgot tricks
he learned in the mean streets
as 'King of the Sticks!'
(Note: a tribute to Art Blakey and Elvin Jones, and all the
other great jazz drummers we have lost through the years...)
BLAKEY BOY
The coat, chocolate shines through
Wrinkles some still, sadly some gone
Energy, love and charisma in abundance
he shakes, the noise so strong so cute
time made a man of him
now to protect, also to play
be free but stay always with me
My Blakey Boy
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