epub or mobi, with thanks to the original sharer
He’d started the bebop
look of berets and shades but that had become a uniform like the music. When he
was playing now he liked to dress in suits as sober as possible, or sports
jackets, setting these off with hats that defied logic but which he made look
completely ordinary – as though a ‘mollusk’ hat worn by Asian peasants were as
essential an accessory to a suit as a collar and tie.
—See, jazz always had
this thing, having your own sound so all sorts of people who maybe couldn’t
have made it in other arts – they’d’ve had their idiosyncrasies ironed out –
like if they were writers they’d not ’ve made it ’cause they couldn’t spell or
punctuate or painting ’cause they couldn’t draw a straight line. Spelling and straight-line
stuff don’t matter necessarily in jazz, so there’s a whole bunch of guys whose
stories and thoughts are not like anyone else’s who wouldn’t’ve had a chance to
express all the ideas and shit they had inside them without jazz. Cats who in
any other walk of life wouldn’t’ve made it as bankers or plumbers even: in jazz
they could be geniuses.
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