For the past couple of years, I have taken notes and sent them to me as texts. Usually, songs that float through my head, and then post the videos on the social medias. Yesterday evening I texted myself a line for the Herbie Hancock Mega Mix that was everywhere on Black radio 40 years ago. For me in the tri-state area that means Kiss FM and my favorite, WBLS.

The line was from a song in my head “Cut it DST cut it D just cut it!” I could picture a crazy person saying that and then I wondered if I would at some point be that crazy person saying it aloud. There are so many songs playing in my head, that I often remark I don’t need headphones or a device when I go outside. I also mention that one should be careful on the streets, headphones or earbuds would prevent you from hearing “Look out he’s got a knife!” or “Watch out that car has jumped the curb!”

I then try hard not to talk about the influence of John Cage on my life. That was from back in the eighties when my then-roommate Jimmy Lee gave me his copy of John Cage’s book, Silence. It was that grain of sand that altered one of my life’s paths.

Pretentious? Moi? Precocious? C’est moi!

So I posted the Herbie Hancock video for Mega Mix. Just a photo of the album cover with the audio track. I seem to remember Bill telling me he did not like the Mega Mix a few years ago. Now he says he likes it. He likes most things Herbie Hancock related. One year for his June birthday we went to see Wayne Shorter and friends, including Herbie Hancock at Carnegie Hall. It was a great event, very lively. We sat behind Stanley Crouch the late Jazz critic.

I’m not much of a Jazz fan, but is. When I saw Herbie was playing the Blue Note around the December holidays I thought it would make an excellent gift. Two table tickets were scored in the cramped club and Herbie took the stage. It was not as lively as the show with Wayne Shorter, it was quite minimal. Painfully minimal. There was no Road to Jazz Damascus conversion, it put me off Jazz for quite a while. I still haven’t recovered.

We did see Jon Hendricks and Annie Ross a few years later, this time opting for seats at the bar. I was a fan of Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross since I stumbled onto a kinescope of them on Dave Sanborn’s Late Night show, coming home one early morning from Maxwell’s. I told my brother Frank about what I saw and he got me a cassette of Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross’ Greatest Hits.

Lambert died in the sixties in a car crash I think. Hendricks and Ross were estranged for a number of years, finally reuniting for a final set of shows. Now they’re all gone but I was happy to see them. Jazz.