Across the Track Blues

In all the years I was in Jazz band, which was only 3, I only ever had one solo. It was my senior year and we played this song called "Across the Track Blues", which just tied in the year quite nicely as our marching show the fall before was 'All Aboard' (we're from Elkhart, we like trains).

When other kids were raising their hands begging for solos, I always kept my hands as close to the ground as possible. When the directors were looking through the group and choosing who they wanted to solo, their eyes never even went in my direction. I think it was just kind of this nice understanding I had with the directors, that I was no good at soloing, so they never called on me. To be completely honest, I really was no good at Jazz band. My place in the group was to serve as more of a leader, a good example, or a performer when it came to doing the stage stuff. I was a good poster face for the group, but definitely wasn't one of the better musicians on my instrument. I think everyone just agreed that I was better on the clarinet than on the saxophone, and that I was more of a concert band player than a jazz cat.

So it comes as no surprise to me that the one solo I did play, was on my clarinet. I had been dreaming of a jazz clarinet solo, and senior year I finally got one. We only ever performed the song once. Sadly I think the reason could have been that Mr. Peterson was worried my solo was just never consistent. Idk, it's whatever. It's probably better that way because I get totally freaked out when I have to solo.

We performed the song at a festival in Michigan State. I remember playing my solo the best I'd ever played it with the band, which was gratifying enough for me. I had to stand up when I played, which meant my legs were shaking, and I remember my parents were there. Afterwards our clinician was talking to us, giving us tips, blah blah....he did this sort of informally where all of our families and friends were also standing in this open foyer type thing, and then all of the sudden he asked "oh and who played that clarinet solo?" Reluctantly, I raised my hand. He was going to tell me I was out of tune the entire time, I just knew it. He was going to tell me I needed to work on it hardcore or else i would be ruining clarinet jazz solos for the entire jazz world..........but to my surprise, instead of telling me I sucked at life, the large Louis Armstrong looking man said to me with a big old smile on his face and a continual nodding of his head "That was reaaaal niiiiice, very niiiiice" And I blushed and everyone looked at me, and I remembered hoping my dad had heard it because I knew he'd be so happy.

The reason I bring all of this up is because #1, I was listening to Johnny Hodges and heard the song I had to do for my transcription project in jazz band senior year, and #2....because it's one of the only things in my life I can remember really enjoying that I wasn't that good at.

Usually I only ever do things if I'm good at them, or if in a short period of time I could be good at them. This has something to do with my very conscious desire to not want to look stupid and or to seem hopeless.

Do things because you love them, and not just because you look good doing them. I have had to figure this out the hard way, and it's biting me in the butt.

Here's the youtube link to the song, though it is not us playing it (we sounded much better)...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttJjdLvQrMQ

the girl kind of fucks it up at the end of the first part
when the saxs have their section the balance is way off
...and when she plays the high f# in the 2nd part it doesn't sound great at all, nor does the 2nd part in general, haha