Needless to say, the Allston Basement Show was an experience indeed. Aside from experiencing the the mosh pits and the colorless clothing and the cigarette smoke that invaded my lungs, I was lucky enough to be reminded of my appreciation for horns - in music that is, not animals.
So on Monday I dropped by In Your Ear, a music store on Comm. Ave. near my apartment, to pick up some new (and by new I mean used) discs. I looked through the jazz and funk sections for a little bit and came out with three:
- David Byrne, Uh-Oh
- John Coltrane, A Man Called Trane
- Louis Armstrong, Satch Blows the Blues
I don't own too much classic jazz (Byrne wouldn't really qualify as jazz...category of his own. But he's such a fucking nut I had to pick it up for $7.)...but I've always had an itch for brass.
My grandfather played the trumpet and I played the sax in elementary school but gave that up to devote more time to pursuing my professional sports career...so much for that:
In an effort to learn a little bit more about the people I was listening to, I decided to Wikipedia the man called Trane when I got home. Gotta love Wikipedia. I never knew he died when he was 40, possibly from heroin use (everything's possible on Wikipedia, so maybe I shouldn't be that amazed).
But what was even more interesting was that within three clicks of my mouse, I was back in the same Allston Basement I was in last weekend.
Follow:
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Coltrane -->>>
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Jazz -->>>
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Ska -->>>
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The Allstonians
I know...I've never heard of the Allstonians, either. But who cares? It's like 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon. Except it's Allston.
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