Then, of course, I played alto and tenor, wherever there were jobs.
quote by Gerry Mulligan
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Related quotes
I don't know what I was trying to get out of a tenor - but it never really satisfied me until one day I picked up my alto and I said, ""Where have you been?"" and I said right here for now on!
quote by Jerome Richardson
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The baritone can serve functions that the alto and tenor cannot, in orchestral voicing.
quote by Gerry Mulligan
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Only the French, I guess, really use tenor and alto to any great extent in the orchestra.
quote by Gerry Mulligan
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The Perfect Song
If I wrote the perfect song,
Its notes and how the cords
Ought to be played-
The song would be one to
Describe our love's journey
All our highs, lows, ups, downs,
Laughs- our cries—
Its melody would be tailored by
Orchestral instruments;
A shed of electric guitars and drums,
Its beat, our heartbeat- beating as one,
Choir of two, we would sing this song
Lost in ourselves; alto, baritone, bass,
Soprano, tenor- oh! The jollity,
Singing our past, singing our present
And our future- the now
We would sing with our heart and voice
The perfect song would never end.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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So I played alto for quite a while until I saved up the money for the baritone.
quote by Gerry Mulligan
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Some people say there was no jazz tenor before me. All I know is I just had a way of playing and I didn't think in terms of any other instrument but the tenor.
quote by Coleman Hawkins
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Sonnet: My Alto Car
My Alto looks superb and majestic,
From Maruti Udyog- ‘The talk of town! ”
With color, silky silver metallic;
My dignity will escalate on own.
Even the rich appear to go for it;
Five-geared, with mileage almost twenty-two;
And ample space for luggage; five can sit;
It is the car that every heart can woo!
It stands so splendidly in front of house,
And glows with beauty- all appreciate;
It is the car that’s loved by any spouse;
Perhaps, its cost can’t much depreciate!
With Alto, any distance, you can go;
No wonder ’tis India’s foremost car, oh!
poem by John Celes
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The Circus-Day Parade
Oh, the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!
And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed,
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's time
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime!
How the grand band-wagon shone with a splendor all its own,
And glittered with a glory that our dreams had never known!
And how the boys behind, high and low of every kind,
Marched in unconscious capture, with a rapture undefined!
How the horsemen, two and two, with their plumes of white and blue,
And crimson, gold and purple, nodding by at me and you.
Waved the banners that they bore, as the Knights in days of yore,
Till our glad eyes gleamed and glistened like the spangles that they wore!
How the graceless-graceful stride of the elephant was eyed,
And the capers of the little horse that cantered at his side!
How the shambling camels, tame to the plaudits of their fame,
With listless eyes came silent, masticating as they came.
How the cages jolted past, with each wagon battened fast,
And the mystery within it only hinted of at last
From the little grated square in the rear, and nosing there
The snout of some strange animal that sniffed the outer air!
And, last of all, The Clown, making mirth for all the town,
With his lips curved ever upward and his eyebrows ever down,
And his chief attention paid to the little mule that played
A tattoo on the dashboard with his heels, in the parade.
Oh! the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!
And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes and neighed.
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's time
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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I Could Make A Living Out Of Lovin You
If theres something that needs fixing
Im the man to see
Look me up, Im listed
Just check under b
If youre ever on the spot
Well, Im good with my hands
24-7 Im your handyman
Odd jobs, hard jobs, anything under the sun
Big jobs, small jobs, baby
Chorus:
Id be a rich man, its true
If I could make a living out of lovin you
These two hands know what to do
If I could make a living out of lovin you
I could make a living out of lovin you
Until the work is finished
Well, I dont get paid
I dont mind getting dirty
Thats my middle name
Im in the service business
So I understand
Call me 24-7, Im your handyman
Odd jobs, hard jobs, anything under the sun
Big jobs, small jobs, baby
Chorus:
Id be a rich man, its true
If I could make a living out of lovin you
These two hands know what to do
If I could make a living out of lovin you
If I could make a living out of lovin you
Solo
Tough jobs, rough jobs, say where and when
Ill leave you my card, call when you need me again
Odd jobs, hard jobs, baby
Chorus:
Id be a rich man, its true
If I could make a living out of lovin you
These two hands know what to do
If I could make a living out of lovin you
Id be a rich man, its true
I could make a living out of lovin you
Im a rich man
I could make a living out of lovin you
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Could Make A Living Out Of Loving You
If theres something that needs fixing
Im the man to see
Look me up, Im listed
Just check under b
If youre ever on the spot
Well, Im good with my hands
24-7 Im your handyman
Odd jobs, hard jobs, anything under the sun
Big jobs, small jobs, baby
Chorus:
Id be a rich man, its true
If I could make a living out of lovin you
These two hands know what to do
If I could make a living out of lovin you
I could make a living out of lovin you
Until the work is finished
Well, I dont get paid
I dont mind getting dirty
Thats my middle name
Im in the service business
So I understand
Call me 24-7, Im your handyman
Odd jobs, hard jobs, anything under the sun
Big jobs, small jobs, baby
Chorus:
Id be a rich man, its true
If I could make a living out of lovin you
These two hands know what to do
If I could make a living out of lovin you
If I could make a living out of lovin you
Solo
Tough jobs, rough jobs, say where and when
Ill leave you my card, call when you need me again
Odd jobs, hard jobs, baby
Chorus:
Id be a rich man, its true
If I could make a living out of lovin you
These two hands know what to do
If I could make a living out of lovin you
Id be a rich man, its true
I could make a living out of lovin you
Im a rich man
I could make a living out of lovin you
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back To Greed
What's the problem?
Why is there a commotion in the streets?
We have created millions of jobs.
And half of the people weren't qualified,
To fulfill the positions.
And yet they have their jobs!
And people are working.
What's going on?
What is the protesting about?
'Well...
The people are disgruntled,
Because...
Well,
The have an issue with 'pay'! '
What issue?
'They want to get 'paid'.
They want pay for what they do.'
You can't satisfy these people!
First it was jobs.
That's all they screamed about.
Well,
They've got their jobs.
Now you say they want pay?
'Yes.'
What next will they be demanding?
FOOD?
Then what?
SHELTER?
What kind of operation they think we run here?
A 'social service agency'?
You tell them to go back to work.
Because they certainly will 'not' be going back to greed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Yes, my mother was a singer, and my father played piano and keyboards. They were in a band together, though they also had regular jobs because they had kids and stuff like that.
quote by Caroline Corr
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Fleetwood
We were once a thriving town
envied by ports from miles around
plenty of fish and jobs for all
and then the pride before the fall
the fish are gone, the jobs are few
the town no longer what we knew
yobs with drugs, no jobs or hope
just endless puffing on their dope
older people afraid to pass by
who saw the good times and wonder why
i hope my children fly this town
and find somewhere nice to settle down
a place where maybe dreams come true
with jobs, and hope and a future too.
poem by Michelle Garner
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An Old High School Song
we used to sing:
'it seems we stood and talked like this before, the smile you were smiling
you were smiling there
but i can't remember where or when
some things that happen for the first time
seems to be happening again........'
sing it again, sing it again for me, i know you remember the song
from your heart where ever you are
many, many years ago, inside that old spanish church
we sang that song, we were not that far away,
i was the tenor then, and you were the alto
and our music teacher was so elated that
he closed his eyes, walked a little distance and listened so well
and he said we are singing like angels tha t his heart melted
on that warmest day
look at us now, tell me if you want to go back, so we will sing again
that same old song
the music teacher is still alive and he perhaps he wants to listen again
and be back on that glorious moment
of our youth
his apex too
tell me if you want to go back,
we will put on the same costumes of innocence
and sing the songs with all our open hearts
oh, how i wish to be inside that church again and be with you
alas!
you are too far away like the most distant star that i want to see even on
a stormy night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Few & Far Between
[ merchant ]
[ alto sax: maceo parker/tenor sax: alfred pee wee ellis/trombone: fred wesley (together: the jb horns) ]
Times are far between, and few I bet, when we can look upon our lives without regret.
Of all the things I have done, you think Im proud of everyone without exception?
till you make your peace with yesterday, youll never build a future.
I swear by what I say.
Whatever penance you do, decide what its worth to you and then respect it.
However long it will take to weather your mistakes, why not accept it?
My hands, for now, are tied.
Im a body frozen.
Im a will thats paralyzed.
When will you ever set aside your pain and misery?
No matter how I beg, no matter how I wish or plead, youll never be more than alive.
Youll never do more than survive until you expect it.
Do you want to build a world with our lives?
You better soon decide or you can forget it.
My hands, for now, are tied.
Im a body frozen.
Im a will thats paralyzed.
till you drop that heavy baggage youre dragging behind, there wont be room for us to both go this ride.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tenorman
Sweet sad young tenor
Horn slumped around neck
Bearded full of junk
Slouches waiting
For Apocalypse,
Listens to the new
Negro raw trumpet kid
Tell him the wooden news;
And the beat of the bass
The bass—drives in
Drummer drops a bomb
Piano tinkle tackles
Sweet tenor lifting
All American sorrows
Raises mouthpiece to mouth
And blows to finger
The iron sounds
poem by Jack Kerouac
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The Disconcerted Tenor
A tenor, all singers above
(This doesn't admit of a question),
Should keep himself quiet,
Attend to his diet,
And carefully nurse his digestion.
But when he is madly in love,
It's certain to tell on his singing -
You can't do chromatics
With proper emphatics
When anguish your bosom is wringing!
When distracted with worries in plenty,
And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,
And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe - (SINGS A HIGH NOTE) -
You see, I can't do myself justice!
I could sing, if my fervour were mock,
It's easy enough if you're acting,
But when one's emotion
Is born of devotion,
You mustn't be over-exacting.
One ought to be firm as a rock
To venture a shake in VIBRATO;
When fervour's expected,
Keep cool and collected,
Or never attempt AGITATO.
But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,
And his lips appear pasted together,
And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe - (SINGS A CADENCE) -
It's no use - I can't do myself justice!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Chan Chan
(francisco repilado)
(dm) - (f) - (c) - (a7)
De (dm) alto cedro voy (f) para marcane
(c) luego a cueto voy (a7) para mayari.
El cariiao a,ue te tengo
Yo no lo puedo negar
Se me sale la babita
Yo no lo puedo evitar.
Cuando juanica y chan chan
En el mar cernian arena
Como sacudia el jibe
A chan chan le daba pena.
Limpia el camino de paja
Que yo me qriero sentar
En aquel tronco que veo
Y asi no puedo llegar.
De alto cedro voy para marcane
Luego a cueto voy para mayari.
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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State Of The Union
President Obama,
your firm resolve
very admirable...
you preach your dream
for America with
light in your eyes...
you drew your line
in the sand...
but we your people
are still hurting...
we cannot feed our children
on dreams alone..
we need the body
to follow the heart.
bringing the soldiers home,
finally, keep them home!
should have been done
long ago!
jobs, jobs, jobs,
we need jobs...
fair pay with benefits.
fair taxation...
and yes, tax the rich!
all Americans, all colors
and creeds, must walk together,
hand in hand, for the future,
ours, and our childrens'.
the hand of the oil companies,
and the big banks,
needs to be removed!
justice the same for all,
both rich and poor
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Government does not create jobs, it only creates the conditions that make jobs more or less likely.
quote by Mitch Daniels
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