Silence is golden, but jazz is jumpin'

I just don't listen to music as much as I used to. As I've gotten older and acquired a more stress-filled life, I like having no TV or radio on at home, especially when the windows are open this time of year. I like hearing the birds and the wind. Of course, Jav and I are apparently extremely old-fashioned and haven't quite endorsed the whole IPod thing just yet. I thought about asking for one for Christmas this year, but we've decided to ask Santa for living room furniture instead. Being an adult is just no fun sometimes.

I still like listening to music when I'm working, though, and have decided that the best kind of music for me to concentrate to is jazz. This is a wide-ranging category, encompassing big band classics like Frank Sinatra, hard-core improvisational Charles Mingus and the old-school countrified jazz of Norah Jones. No other type of music gives me more energy, or a clearer head to concentrate. It's also music that makes me happy. I credit this to my maternal grandparents. I spent a lot of time in their house, and they always had on Guy Lombardo, Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. They were old school about their jazz. I remember taking them the When Harry Met Sally soundtrack to hear Harry Connick, Jr. for the first time. They thought it was a bit too jazzy for them. I remember them saying, "That's nice, but they lost the melody somewhere". But I kept listening and delving deeper.

It may be goofy to admit, but I really started this love affair when Sting left The Police and made a whole album combining jazz and pop (Dream of the Blue Turtles). I've always loved Sinatra and that big band sound, but I branched out to Tony Bennett and the late great Bobby Short. I determined that sometimes smaller is better, and began discovering that the intimacy of a small combo is just as satisfying as a 16-piece orchestra. I found Wes Montgomery, jazz guitarist extraordinaire. And Oscar Peterson, a large, large man with exquisite touch for his piano. I discovered, quite by accident, a band that has become one of my absolute favorites. Dave's True Story is a smart, sassy combo out of New York with a singer whose voice slips over the clever lyrics like molasses. They had one song, Winter Wonderland, on a Pottery Barn Christmas compilation, and I searched online for them to find more. One of my dreams is to hear them live, but they only tour East Coast.

Check them out here





Currently, I want to search for some Lionel Hampton, Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, and Sarah Vaughn at Half Price Books.

But the nearest and dearest to my heart is still Big Band. I would lose track of myself without my Artie Shaw CD. My Deserted Island list would include my Best of Ella Fitzgerald. I guess it just makes me feel six again, safe in my grandparents living room, my grandfather dancing with me standing on his feet, my grandmother jitterbugging with her broom behind us. I guess it just makes me feel that love all over again.