It was the first time we'd seen a girl cat who could carve the local boys

epub with thanks to the original sharer

In the thirties, Piney Brown’s, the Sunset, the Reno, the Subway, and similar clubs were a kind of after-hours jazz Juilliard. Mary gathered heaps of raw material and began weaving them into new works for the Clouds of Joy. Riffs at late-night jam sessions were generated seemingly without effort or end, spearheaded by greats like the outstanding trumpeter Hot Lips Page, a mellow, supportive ensemble following right along. “We’d jam until the wee hours of the morning, often ending up in somebody’s house and the boys having me play some of my weird harmonies which they called ‘zombie music.’ We visited most of the speaks downtown. One in particular fascinated me. It was decorated to resemble the inside of a penitentiary, even with bars all over the place. The waiters wore striped uniforms like the convicts down south.”