Eddie Jefferson
4 Eddie Jefferson
jazz is a sacrament of substance
and Eddie was a preacher spreadin’ the word
the cat used to swing it
singin’ syncopated lyrics
word-scattin’ while trackin’ convoluted tones
I tell you, the cat used to sing it
mixin’ words with the music
floatin’ and explodin’ from a smokin’ saxophone
in the solos, he heard colors
a peacock of be-bop —
Prez, Hawk, Trane, Bird
and a whole host of others
with the solos, he laced words
a sensuous weave, of voice and reed —
tongue and lips, flippin’ quips
sound side-slippin’
lyric quick-trippin’
squeezin’ words into a herd
a stampedin’ surge
modal maxes swingin’ with the saxes
just a-wailin’ while the axes
fed the hearts of every soul
jazz is a sacrament of substance
a sweet honey nectar just for the ears —
it’s the sound of sheer delight
the music the magic
set your soul to flight
bringin’ out the stars to light the night
jazz is a sacrament of substance
a lyrical music that ain’t got no peers
jazz is a sacrament of substance
with no words in the way to nasty up your ears
’til Eddie came along
mixin’ words in the song
— words over Bird just had to be wrong
’til you heard it
’til he stirred it
mixin’ up a bitchin’ brew
singin’ it out to all of you
the stage was a ring
with Eddie in his corner,
humbly acknowledgin’ the sax as king
across the way, the latest contender
the new holder of the throne
wieldin’ his mighty saxophone
with each round,
the sound began to swell
each man came out swingin’
throwin’ to beat the bell
hurlin’ notes, in combos and jabs
riffs racin’ ’round the scale
the horn was just a-screamin’
but the words never failed
swingin’ wild, slingin’ hot
neither knew the meaning of stop
and every night
every flight
a frenzy of endless delight
a scintillatin’ hit
it was the shit!
jazz is a sacrament of substance
Eddie always knew just where to go
he wasn’t walkin’ on the music
he wasn’t changin’ the flow
he’d slip in a niche, and just blow
he always sings the way it swings
dancin’ all ’round and through that thing
Eddie Jefferson was known
as a vocal saxophone
riffin’ words to notes he heard
renewin’ the past
in raw torrential jazz —
the horns produced the sacrament
and Eddie told us what they meant
with words we know were heaven sent
through this genius of the time —
a miracle, an oracle, an epistle on the move
and every word that Eddie’d vent
just added to the groove
jazz is a sacrament of substance
a lyrical silk to lightly wrap your ears
jazz is a sacrament of substance
and Eddie was a teacher with rhythm and rhyme
jazz is a sacrament of substance
jewels of joy of every kind
jazz is a sacrament of substance
and Eddie blew
what Eddie knew
’til he got through to your behind
jazz is a sacrament of substance
and Eddie Jefferson was a feast for the mind
by
jamal
ali
© 17 january 1996
