The jazz music is probably one of the richest and more flexible expressions of music, a type of human sound which takes form out of feelings. It has been enough said about jazz, and yet there’s always some new word to say, even if that word has no sense. That’s how – well, more or less – literature could resemble jazz. Say, for example, Duke Ellington wouldn't have been the awesome U.S.’s jazz piano composer, but a writer: he could write pages and pages of nonsense, but still you’d have to need – “if you like da beat”, certainly! – to read them all, once, twice or more times.
That’s – again: more or less – what happens when you listen to the music that comes out of Benny Goodman’s clarinet or the trumpet of the big ‘Satchmo’ or ‘Pops’, also well known by his name: Louis Amstrong. You don’t want them to end playing, as well as you sometimes do not want that that good book you’ve been reading last days does end just because it is simply delightful.
Jazz music sometimes puts the hearts that follow it into a trance: the body wants to express itself without words, fingers start to tap, to snap, feet moving, the next second yer dancin’ my boy; and a thing you have to know is this: the same that goes for music goes for dance. Real jazz dance is free. Jazz music is something special because, much as symphonic music too, is a free, vast ocean, full of sounds, waiting for the next Charlie Parker to come. That’s why jazz dance is as free as is free the musician in the vast ocean of sounds of his old jazz guitar or in his brand new Fender jazz bass...
