Passage V

A Night at the Vanguard

My friend Stacia and I recently took a class in jazz music, so one night we went down to the Village Vanguard to hear a performance, by saxophonist, Jackie McLean. The Vanguard is a New York City nightclub located underground in a room crowded with tables. (62) Photos of Billie Holiday, Thelonious Monk, John Coltrane, and other jazz greats on the walls.

To our surprise, Stacia and I found empty seats near the stage. The backup band of a pianist, a bass player, and the talented Billy Higgins started with a piece Stacia and I immediately recognized—“Seven Minds.” My attention focused first with Higgins, who played with his head tipped back, smiling and nodding. Soon McLean stepped onstage with his sax I wasn't prepared for the impact. Into every corner of the room, he blew wild, sweet, almost disjointed notes that seemed to leave many listeners amazed. He didn't play according to the rules of the popular music I had grown up listening to on the radio. McLean has been likened to the sax genius Charlie Parker, and that night I could hear why.

[1] Occasionally McLean would stroll offstage. [2] Then one of the other musicians taking the lead, pulling strange patterns from his instrument, the equivalent in sound of someone dancing under a blinking strobe light. [3] Once during a drum solo, a man near us started laughing, as if Higgins had just told a mischievous joke. [4] Now and then, one member of the audience or another. Would bend forward as if you were intently following an argument that is both complicated and fascinating. [5] When he played, something happy happened inside me. [6] I closed my eyes and just listened. (73)

Suddenly the show was over. The musicians walked offstage. The room filled with applause. Moments later, we were outside where the whole city—cabs, couples, neon lights—seemed to be moving to that bright, hectic, spontaneous music.