Word: jazzing
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...poet who goes in for grimmer kicks than limericks is the hero of another Music story-The Cool, Cool Bards. Kenneth Rexroth has started an unshaven love affair between verse and jazz, and it is proliferating like a weird crop of mushrooms throughout San Francisco jazz joints. Mushiest of the mushrooms is a poem entitled Thou Shalt Not Kill, a lengthy dirge for hordes of long-lost poets who somehow strayed from their vocation. In it, among other things, Rexroth asks dolefully: "How many stopped writing at 30? How many went to work for TIME?" By latest count there...
...ball." Then the combo climbed onto the bandstand and gave out with a rippling accompaniment while the poet chanted into the mike. His name was Kenneth Ford, and he writes the kind of poetry the hip set digs. Sample lines, dedicated to Saxophonist Judy Tristano. separated wife of famed Jazz Pianist Lennie Tristano...
...downtown San Francisco and all along the Bohemian strip known as North Beach, other poets and hipsters were gigging together to the raucous applause of the city's beard-and-sandal set. The poetry was usually poor and the jazz was worse, but nobody seemed to care. Record business was being done by dim little jazz spots such as the Sail'N and the Black Hawk-the Taj Mahal of West Coast jazz, where Dave Brubeck blew himself to fame. And at the Tin Angel, on the waterfront, Trumpeter Dick Mills and his combo were playing with...
...whimper. At the GHQ of the San Francisco poets, a tiny joint on Grant Avenue known simply as The Place, the non-squares were invited to gather on Sunday afternoons to "snarl at the cosmos, praise the unsung, defy the order." Poet Rexroth first carried the snarls into the jazz clubs last winter. "Poetry," he argued, "is a dying art in modern civilization. Poetry and jazz together return the poet to his audience...
...took them off in the middle of the performance. During rehearsal, he became so enraged at a violinist that he grabbed the man's violin and smashed it over his head. Nightly, at the city's cafes, he scolded waiters, flirted with local beauties and pounded out jazz on the cafe piano...