Teenagers always have someone they look up to, someone they wanna emulate, someone who inspires them.
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For me that person was Ornette Coleman. when I heard about his death yesterday I realized that he left me with more than I was aware of. Here are three simple yet crucial things I learned because Ornette was on this earth.
1. Color Outside the Lines:
1983, my friend Glenn Stevenson and I were exploring music together. We were young and impressionable. I’ll never forget the minute my ears felt it. Glenn and I were standing in his garage and he held out an 8 track tape with a bizarre mask painted on a red background on the cover. “listen to THIS !” he said. He clunked the tape in and out came “dancing in your head” – the MOST INSANE thing I had ever heard. The music sounded like psychotic little jazz kids. The same thing played over and over and then variations of it. I kept trying to wrap my head around how the guitar and sax were slightly out of tune with each other yet seemed to be completely in synch. At that point, I had been playing saxophone for half a decade but something about the way Ornette spoke through his horn, made me realize what music actually IS.
He was telling a story, a funny story, a witty story WITHOUT WORDS. I was cracked wide open. We listened to that 8 track until it wore out. We looked for other musicians who would engage in this anarchy with us. We hashed it out in late night jam sessions with mind altering substances, but the most mind altering substance of all was that push Ornette gave us to let loose and tell our own stories. I took my horn and I moved to NYC on my way to tell MY story.
2. Greet People With a Smile:
1985, I was working in a music store selling woodwinds on 48th Street in NYC. I was having a bad day. A scowl on my face – probably a combination of goth bravado and a hangover. None the less, I was in a mood. Crouched down behind the counter sorting things in a drawer, I heard someone behind me softly and slowly ask, “excuse me, do you have any rico royal #2 alto sax reeds?”
“NO!” I barked without even looking up. “Are you sure?” The voice sang. I knew I was sure because that was exactly the same size and brand of saxophone reed I used, and I knew we were out of them. “YEAH IM SURE,” still not looking up.
My friend Jessica Jones, who was working the counter with me, was giving me this… LOOK. A look that was like “Get up ! Turn around and stand up you idiot!!!”
I heard the voice again. It was persistent yet still gentle, “would you mind just checking to make sure?”
OK, I’d had just about enough of this shit. Jessica is still over there making these totally weird urgent faces at me, and I swing around and rip the drawer open. “SEE ? LOOK. NO RICO ROYAL #2 ALTO REEDS,” I say to this man with the most angelic face who is smiling sweetly at me while I’m just being a crabby teenage punk rock jerk.
The smile stays on his face and his words, “thank you so much” almost felt like a hug. He turns and walks out of the store. Now you have to remember this is before the Internet. We didn’t have Google Images and YouTube to see what people looked like. I only knew the “Dancing in Your Head” 8 track and I did have “Skies of America” but that one was on a homemade cassette.
Jessica walks over to me and says “THAT WAS ORNETTE COLEMAN.”
Fuck. I compunctiously followed him out of the store and watched him disappear into the city. I never knew what he looked like. Now, I’ll never FORGET what he looked like.
3. Perception is Everything:
Fast forward to 1997, and the drummer of my band is a born and raised Manhattanite named Doug Steinberg. He lived in midtown on West 36th St.. Nobody lived on West 36th St., but Doug did. So did Ornette.
The dead of winter, one of those winters where you just cannot believe how cold it is. Doug comes into rehearsal that night, and knowing what a huge Ornette fan I was, he tells me about his morning exchange while he was walking his dog:
doug: Morning Ornette
ornette: GOOD morning Doug! (I can just see the smile on his face)
doug: Pretty cold today huh ?
ornette: (not even bundled up, coat hanging open) Yeah it feels REAL NICE.
Doug said Ornette was literally BEAMING. Then I realized everything depends on how you view it. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard Ornette’s voice tell Doug that sentence while I’m walking in sub zero temperatures now.
“Yeah it feels REAL NICE”
I let the cold fall over me. I open up to it. I embrace it. I let it exhilarate me. I listen to the story it’s telling me. With no boundaries. With a big smile. I listen to the story my own heart tells because I opened up to it. With no boundaries. With a big smile.
My life is better because of Ornette’s wisdom. Wven when I didn’t wanna hear it. I’m a better person because he was on this planet.
Originally posted on Super Buddha Music