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Bebop Spoken There

Chick Corea: "Things feel good when there's a lot of music happening." - (DownBeat August 2005 (unpublished. Published posthumously April 2021 ).

Archive quotes.

The Things They Say!

Hudson Music: Lance's "Bebop Spoken Here" is one of the heaviest and most influential jazz blogs in the UK.

Rupert Burley (Dynamic Agency): "BSH just goes from strength to strength".

'606' Club: "A toast to Lance Liddle of the terrific jazz blog 'Bebop Spoken Here'"

The Strictly Smokin' Big Band included Be Bop Spoken Here (sic) in their 5 Favourite Jazz Blogs.

Postage

13,107 (and counting) posts since we started blogging 13 years ago. 526 of them this year alone and, so far, 81 this month (April 16).

Bar Manager Required

The Jazz Co-op are looking for an experienced bar manager who can be available to start when The Globe reopens in May.

Preference will be given to a suitably qualified person who lives relatively near to The Globe, 11 Railway St., Newcastle NE4 7AD.

Interested parties please follow this link.

Coming soon ...

April 29: Vieux Carré Jazzmen are back at The Holystone.

May 20 Maine Street Jazzmen are back at Sunniside Social Club.
May 23: Vieux Carré Hot Four are back at The Spanish City.

June 2: Vieux Carré Jazzmen are back at Cullercoats Crescent Club.
June 7: Jazz in the Afternoon are back at Cullercoats Crescent Club.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Chet - From A Window by Keith Armstrong.

CHET - FROM A WINDOW (in memory of Chet Baker 1929 -1988) The constant onslaught of Amsterdam surged through Zeedijk on that hot night when a full moon dragged you flying to your death. In your room, in the Prins Hendrik Hotel, your clothes lay neatly folded in your suitcase, with your body a foetus on the street below. Great white hope fallen offstage, a love for heroin never shaken. Sorrow was your stuff, a plaintive, lyrical anguish, an excess of gloom and charm. This undernourished and parched body, a singing corpse, searching for an uncollapsed vein, an expert driver hating the road and the bleak hotel of his doom. Such a foolish love. Oklahoma farmboy on a golden trumpet, his teeth knocked out in San Francisco, become chained to an album a day for a thousand dollars in cash. And the Italian you learned in a Lucca jail, your spirit surviving its deportation, a lonely and melancholy master drifter whose pianissimo touched the soul. Friday 13th May 1988, Chet’s heart stopped and his horn lost its tongue. KEITH ARMSTRONG 11 January 2009 17:34

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