The old dude, or as I will call him “Sax man” lived in a rambling turn of the century house, half of which was still not wired for electricity. He was landed gentry and every time he ran out of money (due to an extensive career in music), he would sell another 40 acres. In his salad days he had been a top player, much in demand. I was only about 14 years old at the time, so the famous people who he had played with meant little to me. I seem to remember the name Graham Lyle and that’s about all.
Sax man must have been really old (about 50ish) and was sharing the good life with a slim brunette of about 30 (Sax woman). I remember my first visit. My brother and me and a couple of friends (Axe man and Curly top) all siting around the funky old kitchen with a cuppa in the hand and a stories from the mouth. Then into the lounge and everybody reaches for their instruments; except me.
I had sang a little and played acoustic guitar and it seemed all the positions were taken. Sax (Sax man and Sax Woman), drums (brother), guitar (axe man), vocal (curly top) and me (unknown).
It was then that a bass guitar appeared from nowhere like an apparition in the night and gently landed in my arms. Ahh love at first site. From the first note I dug it.
You know, there’s a kind of arrogance that guitarists have towards bass players, like it’s an instrument not worthy of their attention, but the bass is born within. It is such a subtle instrument to get right. It may not be flashy but it makes people move from miles around…..if you have the gift.
Anyway, as the open fire cracked in the 6′ tall fireplace, we tuned up and made out first attempts at mastering ‘Sax man’s’ repetoire. Trad Jazz?? What’s Trad Jazz????
