I wouldn’t be listening to this tonight if the Spanish boyfriend of a Spanish housekeeper hadn’t of come into the bar today. He came in, and I could see he was taller than me, so I immediately stood up. Stood high, and leant an arm out on the bar; merely resting but really possessing. He then said Spanish names and I shook my head. No, this did not do. Then he said Bukowski, and Hemingway, and jazz and names flowed then like notes on an earthy sax because he said them slowly. The Spanish do that when they’re pronouncing English. Charlie Parker. Char Lee Parkur. Bill Evans, too. I shook his hand and didn’t meet him for a drink around eight at the Bell. I had homework to do.
This is Miles Davies with Bill Evans on piano on the big selling LP Kind of Blue. I first listened to Davies’ record Bitches Brew and found it akin to abstract painting. On first glance, impenetrable.