Sunday Light and Word – Shadowy Bursts of Light

 

 

Oct B

 

 

 

 

 

The guy had a southern mustache that drooped down to his chin. He played electric bass, and then, when his sets finished, he sat down at a bar and drank. To a kid like me, that was something. It was obvious he could throw a punch, and maybe at the same time as holding down the low end onstage in a club on Bourbon st. But later on, I got to thinking about him and the permanent frown the mustache gave him, the years of music practice he’d done, hoping to follow behind the greats of R&B, only to have it scuttled by disco’s ascent. Having to throw a punch while you played seemed like one of the worst ways of being musical. Which is why we met at a bar, on Bourbon street, burrowing ourselves away from the coming light.

 

 

 

 

by Hank Cherry

Hank Cherry

About Hank Cherry

Hank Cherry works as a photographer, filmmaker and writer in Los Angeles. His work has appeared in Slake, Southwestern American Literature, Poydras Review, and The Los Angeles Review of Books and he writes a column about the history of jazz for Offbeat. He is in post production on his first full-length documentary.
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