spontaneity and discipline...these are the ingredients of jazz...of poetry...of literature...of life

Dizzy Gillespie...Charlie Parker...they knew...they were students of life...searching...reaching...giving...

they KNEW

and when they played they let loose with a freedom that only comes from knowing

spontaneity and discipline...one without the other leaves a void...together they create magic

jazz...a product of America...a music so closely linked with the American spirit that it could have been born no where else

from the below sea level elevation of that great delta city of New Orleans...to the clubs of Chicago and New York...to the speakeasies of Kansas City...jazz...America's voice ringing out to tapping toes and nodding heads...

Papa Joe knew Pops had a story to tell...he brought him to Chicago to tell the tale but Chicago wasn’t big enough...the world wanted to hear Satchmo's story...and we’re still listening to that tale...in every jazz rock blues soul hip hop be bop note of all his descendents

discipline and spontaneity...drums and bass on a time keeping journey...setting a swinging pad for tenors to take flight and trombones to slide into outside harmonies

Walter Page growling and snarling with his four stringed lover...fine lines...and Lester Young’s sideways tenor so cool that Mr. Basie smiled...and Jo Jones, well he always smiled and always swung

and Miles...yes, Miles...microphone deep in his harmon mute...always changing...always on top...always right...plugged in...turned on...Miles...spontaneity and discipline...Miles knew for sure...man did he know

play that funky music, Horace...while Blakey creates energetic swirls and crashes behind you...dropping bombs in any hole left empty...where does he get that energy...what is behind that smile

you may be the grandfather of the tenor, Mr. Hawk, with your chapeau tilted just so...but Trane is your worthy grandchild...his spiritual unwindings filling the rooms...still so many years later...filling the rooms...Trane knew...

spontaneity and discipline...coming together in the pens of Jelly Roll and Duke and Monk and Mingus...what magical ink must they have used to fashion such voodoo mystical magical everlasting sounds

jazz...from then till now...flowing from the horns and creating swirls of sounds that never leave us long after the axe is packed and the cats are gone...gone cats blowing for us...blowing for themselves...sharing an inner journey...spontaneity and discipline...discipline and spontaneity...long may they blow

-- Terry Vosbein