|
|
THE UNRECORDED PIONEER OF JAZZ The sounds and spirit of the Big Easy come alive in Buddy Bolden of New Orleans, a poetic biography in sixteen cantos of one of the most influential--and least known--musicians in the history of jazz, written by trumpeter and former jazz club owner Ray Bisso. Cornetist Buddy Bolden (1877–1931) found his first horn in a New Orleans gutter--bent, broken, but reparable--and elevated that erstwhile marching band horn into the primary voice of the world's newest musical style--and America's first indigenous art form. He formed his first band in 1895 (eleven years before Jelly Roll Morton claims to have invented jazz), and within a short time rose from the "Kid" to the "King" of jazz, performing in dance halls, brothels, and funeral parades. In fact, Bolden's sound was in such demand that he frequently overbooked himself, scheduling each night half a dozen gigs or more, some of which he actually showed up for. But despite Bolden's wild success, his modern reputation relies solely on memory; for no recording of his music has survived. By the late 1920s, the fast life of women, booze, and music had caught up with Bolden, and he spent his last years in an asylum. Everywhere one looks in Bisso's verse, there is the rhythm of New Orleans: "St. John's Day / Holding Moma Alice's hand / On the brick yard / At the Voodoo festival // Where the Zombies moved / Like crazy spirits and / The bone men pounded / On their barrel drums /.../ Dansez Bamboula / Bamboula Bamboula Bamboula." Before long, Kid Bolden had found that gutter-lost cornet, and Bisso evokes the scene and the sound of an early Bolden gig in Storyville: "The whores breaking out / And kicking high to the stomp / Moving swift and quick / Lifting those legs in turn / Up to the high ham kick // Blowing those blues / Buddy's blues / Burying the truth / Deep in the bone / Of the word." But as the story progresses, Bolden's many obsessions take over the narrative: music, liquor, and women--in particular, a certain woman named Chloe: "Chloe walking the line / Between the PI's / Doing her things / By herself // Chloe a face / Chloe a mask / Chloe the eyes ivory white / Chloe the look agate brown / Chloe the teeth with a flash / Chloe the skin virgin olive / Chloe / ChloeChloeChloeChloe / ChloeChloeChloeChloe." Burning his candle at both ends, Bolden eventually succumbed to migraine headaches and lost control of his emotions, his mind, and his music. "On Labor Day parade /.../Him playing wild high notes / Like a Banshee yell / A Bamboula scream / From the Voodoo days // He be working too hard / He be womaning too much / He be thinking too high / He be feeling too deep / He be burning too long // Some day / They are coming / To take him away / Buddy knowing / He's got to go. "Once you get / to be a Kid / You a Kid / For life // And that / Is something //But when you get to be / A King / You last so long / As the memory / Of a song / The echo / Of a dream." |
 |
Buddy Bolden of New Orleans--A Jazz Poem Ray Bisso 80 pages, paperback, illustrated, $10.00 For ordering information, click here or phone (800) 662-8351 |