Bop - Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community

The5thCandidate · 07-19-2004, 09:11 PM

Stocky bass player with his cool glasses and old old felt hat
The first note hits with a quiet wave of sudden excitement
Oh! and the drummer, the tiny balding drummer, leans into the beats, but just a soft smooth tender voice now
And the bass player takes the tune into the first hit and Bang!
Piano, the man on the bench is mad and wild, and he hits those keys
And he’s sweating already, his cigarette almost half smoked, his pants too short for his long-man legs
The Piano sings those chords and the piano man just lets ‘em sing out loud
Bass player leans closer to the sound of his own fingers, dancing, dancing
Drums stop

Quiet

The horn player steps up to the front of the stage, and he knows he’s the only one they’re looking at

Blast! from that bell, notes are like a wild blaze of pure and shocking heat
Burning through the whole room, every heart aches for a reason beyond reasoning
The band gets back into it, hot, living, gone
The piano man it already sore but he’s glad to be
The smile on his crazy face is almost frightening, so gone, so so wild
And oh! how that trumpet player weeps in his cold water flat, he knows what this song means
His eyes shut so tight, so dark in his head, oh, and so hot
What a song, what a night, the man down in front of the stage is dancing so wild, so free
Gosh, but it’s a free night, nothing can possibly happen tonight unless this jazz man says it can
And that drummer, boy how he’s lost in the beat, how he has already forgotten where he is
The bass player with his mouth wide open in a silent moan of loss and unreachable satisfaction
But that fiery horn, holding that note, that blast, oh how it echoes in the ears of the listening hipsters and drunks
A quick pause for breath
And a maniacal flurry of passion and music, that horn, those fingers like a strung out madman’s nightmare, oh such a blaze
One phrase, and another, and another, and another, and oh gosh but doesn’t that trumpet scream
And a final cry, a piercing heartbreaking high, a banshee’s howl, sweat like rain
The horn blower is gone, takes a step back, sits down and becomes lost
Piano man with his twitching fingers takes them to the next verse with a volley of harsh chords, biting his tongue to keep from forgetting, from missing out
The dancing man falls down and gets back up, sweat pouring, head thrown back
The bass player settles into a cool spot, seems almost to forget his passion of a moment ago
Puckers his lips and breathes deep through his nose, glances casually at the drummer
Piano man finishes his crescendo with a final smooth chord and tilts his head to the side
The tenor man steps up, thick and unshaven, heavy lower jaw and angry eyes only half open
He lets a resounding blast go, shocks the drummer into a furious excitement
The notes fly from that horn so fast, even the dancing man has to stop and stare, expecting to see the music escapes as some sort of spirit from the sax, a visible wave of sound
Shot after shot of lightning notes explodes from the tenor man, and the rage he’s feeling frightens everyone
Rouses the bass player from his cool and makes the piano man lean away and slow down
One long angry note, the sound of his heart, the sound of an angry jazz man
And the tenor is done his bit, takes a step back, sits down slowly
Piano man fills in with a timid bit of tip toe tapping with his tender finger on the keys
A few quiet chords and a foggy melody
Winding down, the bass player covers his face with his shoulder
Drummer barely moves now, just a tap tap ta-tap tsss
With three more heavy chords the piano man is finished

Oh bop, dancing man is glad to be alive

J.R.V.A. · 07-20-2004, 02:17 PM

Nice...

losthellhound · 08-02-2004, 06:22 AM

Very nicely done. Nice de-personification of the players, adds an element of symbolism (at least how I read it *g*)

07-19-2004, 09:11 PM	#1 (permalink)
The5thCandidate Crazy Location: East coast of Canada	Bop Stocky bass player with his cool glasses and old old felt hat The first note hits with a quiet wave of sudden excitement Oh! and the drummer, the tiny balding drummer, leans into the beats, but just a soft smooth tender voice now And the bass player takes the tune into the first hit and Bang! Piano, the man on the bench is mad and wild, and he hits those keys And he’s sweating already, his cigarette almost half smoked, his pants too short for his long-man legs The Piano sings those chords and the piano man just lets ‘em sing out loud Bass player leans closer to the sound of his own fingers, dancing, dancing Drums stop Quiet The horn player steps up to the front of the stage, and he knows he’s the only one they’re looking at Blast! from that bell, notes are like a wild blaze of pure and shocking heat Burning through the whole room, every heart aches for a reason beyond reasoning The band gets back into it, hot, living, gone The piano man it already sore but he’s glad to be The smile on his crazy face is almost frightening, so gone, so so wild And oh! how that trumpet player weeps in his cold water flat, he knows what this song means His eyes shut so tight, so dark in his head, oh, and so hot What a song, what a night, the man down in front of the stage is dancing so wild, so free Gosh, but it’s a free night, nothing can possibly happen tonight unless this jazz man says it can And that drummer, boy how he’s lost in the beat, how he has already forgotten where he is The bass player with his mouth wide open in a silent moan of loss and unreachable satisfaction But that fiery horn, holding that note, that blast, oh how it echoes in the ears of the listening hipsters and drunks A quick pause for breath And a maniacal flurry of passion and music, that horn, those fingers like a strung out madman’s nightmare, oh such a blaze One phrase, and another, and another, and another, and oh gosh but doesn’t that trumpet scream And a final cry, a piercing heartbreaking high, a banshee’s howl, sweat like rain The horn blower is gone, takes a step back, sits down and becomes lost Piano man with his twitching fingers takes them to the next verse with a volley of harsh chords, biting his tongue to keep from forgetting, from missing out The dancing man falls down and gets back up, sweat pouring, head thrown back The bass player settles into a cool spot, seems almost to forget his passion of a moment ago Puckers his lips and breathes deep through his nose, glances casually at the drummer Piano man finishes his crescendo with a final smooth chord and tilts his head to the side The tenor man steps up, thick and unshaven, heavy lower jaw and angry eyes only half open He lets a resounding blast go, shocks the drummer into a furious excitement The notes fly from that horn so fast, even the dancing man has to stop and stare, expecting to see the music escapes as some sort of spirit from the sax, a visible wave of sound Shot after shot of lightning notes explodes from the tenor man, and the rage he’s feeling frightens everyone Rouses the bass player from his cool and makes the piano man lean away and slow down One long angry note, the sound of his heart, the sound of an angry jazz man And the tenor is done his bit, takes a step back, sits down slowly Piano man fills in with a timid bit of tip toe tapping with his tender finger on the keys A few quiet chords and a foggy melody Winding down, the bass player covers his face with his shoulder Drummer barely moves now, just a tap tap ta-tap tsss With three more heavy chords the piano man is finished Oh bop, dancing man is glad to be alive __________________ Muthtard?! Don't let'th be thilly. Lemon, now that'th different...

07-20-2004, 02:17 PM	#2 (permalink)
J.R.V.A. Junkie Location: Utah	Nice... __________________ And as she plays, her sweet song of laughter floats through the air and warms my heart

08-02-2004, 06:22 AM	#3 (permalink)
losthellhound Thats MR. Muffin Face now Location: Everywhere work sends me	Very nicely done. Nice de-personification of the players, adds an element of symbolism (at least how I read it g) __________________ "Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?" -- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death