Jazz Thing - Gang Starr

«I would like to play a, little tune I just composed not so long ago»

«Ms.

Billie, Ms. Billie, Ms. Billie Holiday»

«Byrd?»

«The music called jazz»

Its roots are in the sounds of the African

Or should I say the mother, bringin' us back again

From the drummin' on the Congo

We came with a strong flow and continue to grow

Feet move to the beat of the?

t'balo?

Now, dig the story and follow

For then it landed, on American soil

Through the sweat, the blood and the toil

Hear «Praise the Lord,» shouted on chain gangs

Pain they felt, but it helped them to maintain

Scott Joplin’s rags, Bessie Smith’s blues

St. Louis blues, they were all the news

Ringin' smooth, in all the listeners' ears

Fulfillin' the needs, and plantin' the seeds of a jazz thing

King Oliver’s group was a train comin' through

To Chicago, bringin' the New Orleans groove

And when Satchmo blew, the audience knew

Basin Street Blues was no whorehouse tune

It was music, great to dance to

Great to romance to, with a lot to say to you

Relayin' a message, revealin' the essence of a jazz thing

In the 40's came be-bop, the first be-bop

The real be-bop, so let me talk

About Diz' and Bird, givin' the word

Definin' how a beat could be so complete

Playin' with ferocity, thinkin' with velocity

About ornithology, or anthropology

And even Epistrophy, and this is real history

Thelonious Monk, a melodious thunk

No mistakes were made with the notes he played

His conception, was recondite

A star glowin' bright among dim lights

The critics did cite that he sounded alright

And Charlie Mingus, such nimble fingers

Droppin' the bass all over the place

And Max Roach, cymbals sockin'

Bass drum talkin', snare drum rockin'

Restructurin' the metaphysics of a jazz thing

John Coltrane, a Man Supreme

He was the cream, he was the wise one

The impression of Afro Blue

And of the promise that was not kept

He was a Giant Step

And there was Ornette Coleman, he was another soul man

The original invisible, playin' great music

I wonder why the bankers couldn’t use it

Now, listen, see

The real mystery is how music history

Created by Whiteman or any other white man

That pretended he originated

And contended that he innovated a jazz thing

(Of course, we know who can really blow)

Scheamin' on the meanin' of a jazz thing

And this music ain’t dead, so don’t be misled

By those who said that jazz is on its deathbed

'Cause when Betty Carter sings a song

Ain’t nuttin' goin' on but simply good music

And you won’t refuse it

She’s takin' her time, makin' the nuances rhyme

Sonny Rollins, tenor saxophone

With a big old tone, recitin' poems

With notes as words, and haven’t you heard

(NEXT STOP BUTTER, RIGHT PAST OLEO)

Now there’s young cats blowin'

And more and more people, yes, they will be knowin'

Jazz ain’t the past, this music’s gonna last

And as the facts unfold, remember who foretold

The 90's, will be the decade of a jazz thing

A jazz thing