#original jazz

Way down in old New Orleans

I met a boy who died of boredom

He’s quiet as a gunshot

Real as a dream

You’ll know him cause he can’t be seen

Way down in New Orleans

I met a boy who can’t be seen

He’s louder than a photograph

Solid as the air

You’ll know him cause he isn’t there

I saw a soggy cardboard sign

The words had all dripped off

The smell of gin, or turpentine

Says I’m gonna get ripped of

A disemobodied voice says

“Can you spare a cigarette”

I saw a soggy cardboard sign

Glinting from afar

I heard a rusty wailing wine

A dusty old guitar

The shadow of a boy

Who I could see was out of luck

A disembodied voice says

“Can you spare a couple bucks”

Way down in Jackson square

I met a boy who wasn’t there

He wasn’t there again today

I wrote this song a couple years ago with some great friends in Morgantown, WV, and we actually recorded it on a record. I was feeling a little nostalgic this week so I thought I'd throw together this quick arrangement. Enjoy! 

 All the writing credits of this 7/4 funk tune: 

Alex Heflin 

John Posey 

Eli Weidman

Greg Thurman 

 Oh, and if you're interested, here's the lead sheet: https://goo.gl/accCCm

ART DECO by Orphaned in Storyville

Alejandro Canales - Clarinet

Martín Moretto - Guitar

Sam Colgate - Drums

Yet another day was devoted to studying.  

Around 7:00pm a guitarist came in and then more people came in.  And I looked up and I realized that it was Original Jazz night.  I guess I should frequent this coffee shop more often.  Except that it got kind of weird.  The guitarist's friends came in and they sat on the same row as me.  They just kept piling up to the point that it got kind of awkward.  So I just pretended to do some homework because I didn't know the right timing to get up ahaha I know it sounds ridiculous but the situation itself was ridiculous.

More people came in and it was apparently their band or whatever.  They had harmonicas and whatnots.  It eventually got to their performance and I was feeling fully awkward by this time.  They were singing and having a grand old time.  They were all old hippies.  I mean, they were pretty nice and some even talked to me, but it was still awkward.  There was one old guy with long white hair and then there was an old hippie lady guarding the door.  She told me as I was trying to leave, "Come and see us again."  Okay sure why not.  Maybe I'll feel more comfortable next time.  

I got Chipotle after that because I was craving it.  I DID NOT KNOW THAT THEY SERVED BROWN RICE NOW.  Isn't that even more unhealthy?  From what I read anyway.  I didn't get it because I prefer white steamed rice; which reminds me of when my family when to get hibachi in Austin after my sister's graduation.  Everyone had basically ordered fried rice and I was the only one with a bowl of steamed white rice.  And that's the way I like it.  Now that I think about it, that actually shows how different I am from the rest of my family, if it wasn't obvious before.