con struct
Platinum Member
I had a sort of epiphany last night.
I was at a bar where there's a weekly jam session for local jazz musicians. Marlon Patton was on the drums and man, can that guy play! He's one of the most original and seriously good, good, good jazz drummers I've ever heard, seriously. I've never seen anyone play quite the way he does. He's not just a jazz drummer, he's a jazz musician. I think he's quite brilliant and I very much hope that he gets his due recognition.
Anyway I was watching this guy and suddenly I realized that I'd done enough. I'd done it. It was as if a collar was removed from around my neck. Suddenly I felt really happy. I saw the future as vast store of possibilities, one that I am free to venture into and to partake of all that is on offer. I almost felt that I'd grown wings. I looked around the room at all the players there and, it's corny to say it, but I felt a great love for all of them. I knew their struggles and frustrations, I knew their ecstasies and disappointments, and I just loved them all.
But no more of that for me. I'm fifty-seven years old and I've been playing music professionally since I was nineteen. And now I think I'm done. I'm all played out. I can't compete with these amazing young cats out there and they sure as hell don't need me. Anyway, I was never all that much of a jazz drummer. People told me that I could play, hell, even Greg Osby told me that, but I never really felt that I was up to all that much.
It's a load off, I'll tell you. I have nothing left to prove. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not going to pack my drums away and I'll probably always write music. And if nobody minds very much I believe I'll continue to hang around here.
Aw, mercy. What a life, what a party it's all been! But it's time for other things. Now I just have to find out what those things are. And it's a very exciting and liberating feeling.
So, Merry Christmas to all you wonderful drummers. I'll always be one of you and that makes me feel damned proud.
I was at a bar where there's a weekly jam session for local jazz musicians. Marlon Patton was on the drums and man, can that guy play! He's one of the most original and seriously good, good, good jazz drummers I've ever heard, seriously. I've never seen anyone play quite the way he does. He's not just a jazz drummer, he's a jazz musician. I think he's quite brilliant and I very much hope that he gets his due recognition.
Anyway I was watching this guy and suddenly I realized that I'd done enough. I'd done it. It was as if a collar was removed from around my neck. Suddenly I felt really happy. I saw the future as vast store of possibilities, one that I am free to venture into and to partake of all that is on offer. I almost felt that I'd grown wings. I looked around the room at all the players there and, it's corny to say it, but I felt a great love for all of them. I knew their struggles and frustrations, I knew their ecstasies and disappointments, and I just loved them all.
But no more of that for me. I'm fifty-seven years old and I've been playing music professionally since I was nineteen. And now I think I'm done. I'm all played out. I can't compete with these amazing young cats out there and they sure as hell don't need me. Anyway, I was never all that much of a jazz drummer. People told me that I could play, hell, even Greg Osby told me that, but I never really felt that I was up to all that much.
It's a load off, I'll tell you. I have nothing left to prove. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not going to pack my drums away and I'll probably always write music. And if nobody minds very much I believe I'll continue to hang around here.
Aw, mercy. What a life, what a party it's all been! But it's time for other things. Now I just have to find out what those things are. And it's a very exciting and liberating feeling.
So, Merry Christmas to all you wonderful drummers. I'll always be one of you and that makes me feel damned proud.