Super trumpet. Listened to right in the middle of taking in "High Society." Sunday morning television at its finest. They say country music hits you between the eyes, if it has not done so already, when you hit 40. I wonder if I have at last hit the golden age when jazz hits the target too at last.
I have issues with classical music. I have big issues with opera. I can stomach piano concertos alright. Sonatas.I used to find myself astounded that Bukowski had no fondness for rock & roll. Country, even, if I remember correctly. Popular music must have reminded him of the school prom, probably, struck that kind of bum note.I seem to recall he had a liking for Shostakovich. Mozart, less explicably. I am not so certain where he stood with jazz. Or if trumpets made him think too much of Chet Baker's film star looks. Young turks in zoot suits. The beats.When I was thinking of posting this, I looked Willie Bobo up on Wiki. His youngest son, it transpires, is percussionist with Cypress Hill. That impressed me. It is good to consider those rhythms running in the blood, though it often seems to skip a generation.
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