I first heard him play when I was out in San-Francisco....He was young, about 25...Six feet even,
Dark skinned with a bald head and not a trace of a whisker on his face..He had an earing in his left ear. Like me, He played the trumpet. Me...My name is Reed Nelson..I play trumpet....The kid's name was Robert Brown..."Downtown" Robert Brown....He told everyone he was from New York City...but he was actually born in Philadelphia and lived here until he was about 12 years old. His parents divorced and he went to live with his mother, who was a New Yorker in the Bronx. He lived there until he was 18. At 18, he returned to Philly, to attend the University of Pennsylvania.
He got his bachelors from Penn and went right back to New York, where he studied at Julliard Music College. He played Trumpet and Piano... I knew his story...In San-Francisco..."88" and I sat in at one of his dates...He played technically well.....but he didn't improvise at all. He played a lot of Jazz standards...and took a lot of pop songs and adapted them.....Mostly he took classical music , which he played very well and jazzed that up....It was okay..but it only drew mild applause and most of his audience was white and old...
"88" went up to shake his hand after a set....
'Hey man, good job..good job." said "88"
"Yeah, I guess it is a good job, compared to what you and that hack, Reed Nelson play." he said without shaking "88's" hand. From that time on ,"88" had nothing to say to the kid.
'That little bastard better not let me catch him on the street." he said.
I laughed it off and patted "88" on the back....
"He young man, young guys are always brash and full of themselves." I said and thought no more of it. This was of course until I read an article in Hype magazine on him in which he called me a "hack", a "pretender" and a sell out to the craft of "real jazz"...Now I was pissed.
This particular morning, I found myself in a tony little eatery in Chestnut Hill with the author of that article and his photographer side kick....Kevin Morris, who usually is out catching criminals on his spare time....but who actually is a journalist/blogger, who is a friend of mine and who's articles I read a lot and Sean Jackson, his buddy, who is one of the best photographers in the business.
"So Kevin....He actually believes the crap he says?" I asked.
"I'm sorry Reed....I just asked him some questions and that's the way he answered....I told him that you were a personal friend of mine and he said that I should pick better friends." said Kevin.
"Man, that cat's head is so big, he had to turn sideways to get through the door ." added Sean
Jackson as he sat down with us...
"Yeah, "88" can't stand him and you know how easy going he is...if he don't like him.....he's got to
be a bad guy." I said.
There were three tumblers of hot steaming coffee around us and another three tumblers of orange juice.. Kevin had Blueberry Pancakes and country ham with hash browns, Sean had two eggs fried hard, bacon and a grapefruit and I had a Cheese Omelet, Bacon and hash browns...
Sean had found this place...It was nice. We were joined by Conrad Nelson, the attorney and his wife Jill.
'That kid really tore you a new one in that article in Kev's magazine." said Conrad.
"Yeah..I read the article ." I said...
"He's playing at Josie's tonight...Let's go see him and heckle him."said Sean.
"Not a bad idea." I said with a hint of seriousness.
That night Deborah and I sat center stage with "88" and Mabel Jenkins as "Downtown " Robert Brown and his quartet played their set... Like I said...He was technically good and proficient...but
not very innovative....This was a younger crowd...
They didn't boo , they simply milled around and quietly, one by one began to leave...Pretty soon, there was only about 25 people in the audience and maybe about ten at the bar....On a Friday Night ,I had this place packed....and the bar was crowded.....I looked over at Gus....He wasn't too
happy...he didn't say anything, but he just had that look.
Robert Foxworth and his lady friend Bonita walked over to me...
"Man, I hope you're playin next week...this cat is okay, but he's puttin me to sleep." said Robert.
I laughed....Debbie looked at me.. Smiled that sultry smile of hers and shook her head.
"What?" I said.
"Your friends are really feeding your ego...." she laughed.
After his set was over I walked up to the bandstand....
'Tough crowd huh? This is an unusual Friday night, it's usually more people in here." I said.
"Yeah, uneducated people who like hip hop and funk and that crap that you and "Symphony "Sam be playin...They can't appreciate a true artist like myself." he sneered.
"Artist? You're playin watered down versions of other people's stuff....Artist? Don't make me laugh....I admit, I do play a little smooth jazz and I do venture off into Funk , R&B and Neo soul, but I write a lot of original,complex stuff...stuff that you probably couldn't play.." I said.
'Besides" I continued...Music is like soul food and a deli platter....Different tasting, but still good food just the same." I said.
"Okay, you keep believing that.....I don't have time." he said.
"You don't have a lot of things my man." I said and walked back to my table. We all walked out and to my surprise, several other people left with us.. I heard Gus telling him.
"No need for you guys to do a second set...Uh, I'll pay you for the night though."
I couldn't help but snicker...
That night I was driving Debbie to my place...
"You know my sister is coming to town tomorrow....We have to pick her up at the Airport......
(Pause)...Reed...My sister?" she said.
"Yeah, I heard you...I can't get over that pompus little twerp..."I Said.
"You still got a hard on for that kid." laughed Debbie...
I looked over at her as I drove.....
"I don't have a hard on for him....I could care less about him...but I do have a hard on.." I laughed slyly...Debbie looked at me and smiled as she lay her head on my shoulder...
"Ouu, then you'd better drive a little faster ,sos we can get to your place and I can ,uh, er..take care of that." she laughed.
(To Be Continued....)
Dark skinned with a bald head and not a trace of a whisker on his face..He had an earing in his left ear. Like me, He played the trumpet. Me...My name is Reed Nelson..I play trumpet....The kid's name was Robert Brown..."Downtown" Robert Brown....He told everyone he was from New York City...but he was actually born in Philadelphia and lived here until he was about 12 years old. His parents divorced and he went to live with his mother, who was a New Yorker in the Bronx. He lived there until he was 18. At 18, he returned to Philly, to attend the University of Pennsylvania.
He got his bachelors from Penn and went right back to New York, where he studied at Julliard Music College. He played Trumpet and Piano... I knew his story...In San-Francisco..."88" and I sat in at one of his dates...He played technically well.....but he didn't improvise at all. He played a lot of Jazz standards...and took a lot of pop songs and adapted them.....Mostly he took classical music , which he played very well and jazzed that up....It was okay..but it only drew mild applause and most of his audience was white and old...
"88" went up to shake his hand after a set....
'Hey man, good job..good job." said "88"
"Yeah, I guess it is a good job, compared to what you and that hack, Reed Nelson play." he said without shaking "88's" hand. From that time on ,"88" had nothing to say to the kid.
'That little bastard better not let me catch him on the street." he said.
I laughed it off and patted "88" on the back....
"He young man, young guys are always brash and full of themselves." I said and thought no more of it. This was of course until I read an article in Hype magazine on him in which he called me a "hack", a "pretender" and a sell out to the craft of "real jazz"...Now I was pissed.
This particular morning, I found myself in a tony little eatery in Chestnut Hill with the author of that article and his photographer side kick....Kevin Morris, who usually is out catching criminals on his spare time....but who actually is a journalist/blogger, who is a friend of mine and who's articles I read a lot and Sean Jackson, his buddy, who is one of the best photographers in the business.
"So Kevin....He actually believes the crap he says?" I asked.
"I'm sorry Reed....I just asked him some questions and that's the way he answered....I told him that you were a personal friend of mine and he said that I should pick better friends." said Kevin.
"Man, that cat's head is so big, he had to turn sideways to get through the door ." added Sean
Jackson as he sat down with us...
"Yeah, "88" can't stand him and you know how easy going he is...if he don't like him.....he's got to
be a bad guy." I said.
There were three tumblers of hot steaming coffee around us and another three tumblers of orange juice.. Kevin had Blueberry Pancakes and country ham with hash browns, Sean had two eggs fried hard, bacon and a grapefruit and I had a Cheese Omelet, Bacon and hash browns...
Sean had found this place...It was nice. We were joined by Conrad Nelson, the attorney and his wife Jill.
'That kid really tore you a new one in that article in Kev's magazine." said Conrad.
"Yeah..I read the article ." I said...
"He's playing at Josie's tonight...Let's go see him and heckle him."said Sean.
"Not a bad idea." I said with a hint of seriousness.
That night Deborah and I sat center stage with "88" and Mabel Jenkins as "Downtown " Robert Brown and his quartet played their set... Like I said...He was technically good and proficient...but
not very innovative....This was a younger crowd...
They didn't boo , they simply milled around and quietly, one by one began to leave...Pretty soon, there was only about 25 people in the audience and maybe about ten at the bar....On a Friday Night ,I had this place packed....and the bar was crowded.....I looked over at Gus....He wasn't too
happy...he didn't say anything, but he just had that look.
Robert Foxworth and his lady friend Bonita walked over to me...
"Man, I hope you're playin next week...this cat is okay, but he's puttin me to sleep." said Robert.
I laughed....Debbie looked at me.. Smiled that sultry smile of hers and shook her head.
"What?" I said.
"Your friends are really feeding your ego...." she laughed.
After his set was over I walked up to the bandstand....
'Tough crowd huh? This is an unusual Friday night, it's usually more people in here." I said.
"Yeah, uneducated people who like hip hop and funk and that crap that you and "Symphony "Sam be playin...They can't appreciate a true artist like myself." he sneered.
"Artist? You're playin watered down versions of other people's stuff....Artist? Don't make me laugh....I admit, I do play a little smooth jazz and I do venture off into Funk , R&B and Neo soul, but I write a lot of original,complex stuff...stuff that you probably couldn't play.." I said.
'Besides" I continued...Music is like soul food and a deli platter....Different tasting, but still good food just the same." I said.
"Okay, you keep believing that.....I don't have time." he said.
"You don't have a lot of things my man." I said and walked back to my table. We all walked out and to my surprise, several other people left with us.. I heard Gus telling him.
"No need for you guys to do a second set...Uh, I'll pay you for the night though."
I couldn't help but snicker...
That night I was driving Debbie to my place...
"You know my sister is coming to town tomorrow....We have to pick her up at the Airport......
(Pause)...Reed...My sister?" she said.
"Yeah, I heard you...I can't get over that pompus little twerp..."I Said.
"You still got a hard on for that kid." laughed Debbie...
I looked over at her as I drove.....
"I don't have a hard on for him....I could care less about him...but I do have a hard on.." I laughed slyly...Debbie looked at me and smiled as she lay her head on my shoulder...
"Ouu, then you'd better drive a little faster ,sos we can get to your place and I can ,uh, er..take care of that." she laughed.
(To Be Continued....)
1 comment:
I might know this guy. Only he respects me.
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