My love of jazz began when I was in junior high. My older sister often let me hang out with her and her high school friends… one of her many generosities. One of her friends played trumpet in a jazz band, bass in a rock band, and had an expansive and diverse music collection.
Some of my favorite “coming of age” memories involved hanging out at his place and listening to LPs. CCM, Celtic, heavy metal, gospel, classic rock, punk, rap, techno, classical, new age, blues, and yes, jazz. Miles Davis, Pat Metheny, Dave Brubeck, and John Coltrane were among many the artists I came to love.
The first time I heard Thelonious Monk’s “Straight, No Chaser” was a game changer. Some years later the record was reissued as a CD with some new tracks. When I heard his interpretation the old Fanny Crosby hymn, “Blessed Assurance,” I was simply undone. Then, when I discovered his slight pivot in titling his piece, well, I’d never felt a piece of music like I felt this one. It opened wide my heart to listen and connect… “This is My Story.”
Here is this classically trained, brilliant pianist, playing as a broken person, wrong notes, off rhythm…kinda stilted…like an ill prepared child at his first recital…and he titles it “This is my Story.” This is no smug, “blessed assurance Jesus is mine.” Sometimes my story feels off beat, out of tune, like I’m struggling to get through it, and I keep losing my way… oh I keep playing, even after I got the wrong key, it may not sound like a concert worthy performance… Yet, this is my story, this is my song.
Aurgablely no single song has carried me like this one. So grateful.
Peace, dwight
