Tweeted about jazz yesterday.  Jazz being one of those things I can appreciate while simultaneously admitting I do not understand much of it.  It seems I am genetically programmed for three chords and a touch of twang.

But.  I still enjoy a taste now and then.  And so when my friends Bruce and Patti gave me the gift of A Love Supreme: The Story of John Coltrane’s Signature Album, I read the accompanying book first.  Thus educated, I sat down at the writing desk and put the CD in the player.  The first track built slowly, and built some more.  I started writing and listening.  And I really hit the groove, the music and the typing meshing perfectly.

I mean really hit the groove.  At one point I paused, heard Coltrane (“…a love supreme, a love supreme…”) and thought, man, this song just builds and builds.  Then I looked at the clock and realized an hour had passed.  I’d inadvertently left the CD player on one track repeat and hadn’t even noticed.

So my jazz appreciation is kinda like my classical music appreciation – sincere, but shallow.  I knew enough to know Coltrane’s album was a big deal.  I didn’t know enough to realize I was listening to the opening track overandoverandoverandover…

Back on the more mundane three-chord front, I’m taking the Long Beds into the studio today for a week of plunking, see if we can get some of the new songs on tape/vinyl/chip.

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