Though most of my loyal readers may think they know me very well, there is a commonly overlooked part of my personal history that receives little attention, at least in the United States.
Several years ago, I was the piano player for a jazz band, Jagged J. Frazier and the Funkateers. My good friend Jerky White played trumpet and the incomparable Kaiser Perkins was on trombone. We would play at smokey Harlem nightclubs, where I would sit at the piano and begin to play, the room turning silent except for the clanking of drinks and lighting of joints, my fingers dancing the Charlston across the keys as beads of my heart and soul spilled out of my forehead, the nicotine air turning sharp and mysteriously vibrant, the waitress generously delivering double blackjacks on the rocks to me when the previous one was depleted. After the show I played with nice drugs and loose women, my life unfolding like a wonderful French film with all the bad parts edited out.
Our debut (and only) album sold poorly in the U.S., but was a smash hit in Peru, selling nearly 400 copies, which made it the third most purchased album that year. I eventually participated in a Peruvian Big Brother-style reality show, where I came in 5th place behind a gorgeous model and ahead of a deposed Bolivian dictator. Oh, how the music makes my joy shake and tumble into a delicately fond heartache.
Kaiser Perkins, defiantly shooting the bird.
Jerky White shortly after his infamous decision to personally deliver the alimony payments to his second ex-wife. His subsequent self-imposed exile from the U.S. resulted in the demise of the band.
1 comments:
Y'know, Keystone Light will do that to a man...
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