A Day In The Life

I'm in the library of the jazz school right now and doing something illegal, or frowned upon, or taboo! I'm writing. All around me, saxophones are blown, drums are being worked on, people are singing or humming or tapping or clicking. It's a maddening atmosphere. The air is full of promise, so many talented people, some playing all day long, or so it seems, some quickly pouring coffee down their throats before getting back to their mini-practise-labs.
This morning, in the train, I put a 15/8meter beat on my laptop, practised crossfading rhythms on my way to the bus, and in the bus listened to two songs by Avishai Cohen, at school I practised for a while, got carried away, and forgot a meeting with a teacher. Later, in a arctic-cold room, I listened to another teacher talking about some new assignment, we'll have to do five reharmonizations of tunes, play them, solo over them and record them. In ten minutes, I'll go practise some more, then I'll have my piano lesson, will look at the 15/8-beat again, listen to some more Avishai Cohen, maybe do some arranging on the computer on the train, and will be home at about 5pm. Then I'll listen to John Coltrane: Coltrane and Cannonball, will briefly write about it for another assignment. At 7pm sharp, I'll stop working, and slowly my feet will touch ground again: I'll have to do laundry, do some cooking and cleaning, and maybe later I'll see the Paraglider who is playing a gig tonight.
That's just for today, but days are rather similar. I'm often wondering not only about other people's lives, but also about their day-to-day routine, I mean: how exactly does a day go for a police man? Or a social worker?

Coltrane does the trick

Every one know this feeling. It creeps into your soul, digs its sticky fingers into your intestines and slowly makes you feel cold, or lonely, or scared, or just worried. It might be about the end of something, or the start, about the future - or just an undefined unease. It's an unrequested visitor in thoughts, who often won't go after coffee...

Now what we jazz aficionado have in common is the love for an unusual kind of music, that invents and reinvents itself, that moves forward and requires a lot of the listeners, empathy with the players, persistence, and curiosity. We listen to it with open ears and minds and often get something quite undescribable out of it. It's almost like a force outside of everyday life, as if there will always be a backdoor to the daily routine.

Now there are blue moments that require even more than that. Moments when the mind is too lazy to try to figure out things, and they just ought to be beautifully presented on a platter. For moments like that, there is a jazz piece from John Coltrane. Of course - we all know that he was a genius, a thinker and a reformist. But of course he had a heart too, and so I can only recommend to anyone who has ever felt a bit low, to please listen to "I want to talk about you", from Soultrane, 1958 on Prestige, with John Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers and Arthur Taylor!