When I enter the jazz club I could feel this sense of calmness come over me. Listening to the sounds and letting them resonate as people mingled throughout the club. There was much talk and relating amongst the crowds.
One day, there was a Jazz band, and it had flowers in its hair and it sang pretty songs louder and stronger than your mom’s gospel band from south carolina and it made Jesus proud. So proud. More proud than you’re ever going to know.
dunno anything about jazz music. the jazz age was interesting. it’s like everyone thought the world was going to hell… well, what would they think about the world today? it’s even worse, yet people are still getting along just fine.
She tapped her foot in time with the beat, her hair hiding her violet eyes. She could see the men looking for her, could recognize the outline of the guns on their sides, still she swilled the amber liquid in her glass and took a long drink, listening to the music in the smoky club.
The pianist went up and down on the keys, going through scales and trills, going from minor keys to major keys and back again. Her audience listened attentively, enjoying the awe-inspiring talent that the prodigy had to offer.
Jazz makes me move. It stirs my inner soul and outer ego. How insightful jazz can be, especially with a cigarrette and cup of coffee. I once met a legendary trombonist who said Jazz is for the passionate.
I was sitting in a coffee shop downtown with my uncle. There was a rather uninteresting jazz band playing in the corner, and it seemed to catch his attention rather well, given he ignored my plea for advice.
She stepped through the crowd and onto the stage. A glance in the mirror revealed a leg warmer out of place, so she bent nimbly over to adjust it. A wave of her finger signaled the music to start. And class began.
Jazz dance was the class that he dropped. He was kind of cute, although a bit younger than me. I told him about the tutoring class that he ended up taking instead of jazz.
jazz is the starting point of all music. without it we would be nowhere in the music industry. would blues be alive without jazz? all the beautiful songs and artists that prospered during those beautiful years? never! jazz created everything.
is so slow and simple and throaty and lovely and we love to listen to it in clubs with cigarettes and a glass full of gin and our fur coats and high heels and outside the snow falls and our cheeks are rosy with the jazzy music and we can hear it all the way down the street and we love to listen oh how thick the air is with saxophone music it trickles down our back and into our ears and out of our mouths flows throaty renditions of a flappers invitation back upstairs
is so slow and simple and throaty and lovely and we love to listen to it in clubs with cigarettes and a glass full of gin and our fur coats and high heels and outside the snow falls and our cheeks are rosy with the jazzy music and we can hear it all the way down the street and we love to listen oh how thick
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath; this was extraordinary. The sound coming from the old speakers was slightly muted, but it wasn’t any less beautiful. The soft jazz music put me back to a time and place where all that mattered was creativity, and doing what you love.
a type of dance that if you were there and had her it was torture to all living creatures of this planet that we call earth. epic fail if you’re there. hypnotic.
Bump me up, B, we flowin that jazz from tomorrow. Call me up when you heard that style, B, I gotta hear your take, it’ll make me see to be famous. Come on, B.
I wish I knew more about jazz. I feel like people who like jazz have soul; it’s a fun genre and even though I know nothing about it, thinking about it makes me happy. Smooooth. My favorite jazz song (that I know of) is Blue in Green by Miles Davis.
Oh, jazz.
I love Jazz.. especially Count Basie.
I usually love the way jazz-people conduct themselves.. Like they are always part of a secret world, partial to secret, jazz blues knowledge that colors the whole world. Kind of like emo kids, but infinitely cooler.
Standing there, under a light so bright, the dust particles can be seen floating around his hair. And his cheeks puff out, and his trumpet blares.
Applause.
He strides back to his seat, obvious pride glowing in his cheeks. I glance at him, and he glances back, and I know what we’re thinking, I know we both know the feeling.
I see a bar and classy people. You know, I’m lying. I can’t see anything but him. I want to forget him. I can’t. Jesus christ. I’ll even lie to a population of internet people. I miss you.
I used to dance jazz. I was spectacular. Everyone wanted me. Then Jazz ended, and I was alone. Alone in ways I had never known; that jazz was a part of me and at that moment, that part was dead.
Come on babe why don’t we paint the town
and all that jazz!
I’m gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down
and all that jazz!
Start the car I know a whoopee spot
where the gin is cold but the piano’s hot
It’s just a noisy hall where there’s a nightly brawl and
all
that
jazz…
“Could you jazz up this story a little?” And I looked at her as though she had asked me to make the Mona Lisa more modern and in-line with today’s pop culture. “…no,” I replied. “No, I can’t.”
We were all jazzed up as he rode in Earl’s brand new roadster. Larry hung at the side and slapped the ass of Henrietta Glock as we sped down Main. Officer Johnson chased us to the river but Earl hit the accelerator and we sped across and got away.
Jazz is a weird music style, It sounds weird and i really dislike it. It just isn’t my kind of music style. The name Jazz sounds cool, and it’s fit in Paris in a bar there. Moulin Rouge :D
He’s a slim, well-dressed saxophonist, bent forwards as he’s belting out a soulful and technically difficult solo with an ease that’s the true mark of a professional. Surrounded by the smoke swirling from cigarettes of patrons in the lounge, he is more of a silhouette than a man — a shadowy legend in the making.
it’s starts with be-bop.
with big band.
and that skip in your step.
a tap of your feet.
and the essence of poetry.
b/c it is about a feeling
the moment
and all that jazz.
Jazz! It just seems so incredibly blue-sy. And just hits right to the core somtimes; showing such depth, kind of just ringing you spinal cords.
When I enter the jazz club I could feel this sense of calmness come over me. Listening to the sounds and letting them resonate as people mingled throughout the club. There was much talk and relating amongst the crowds.
One day, there was a Jazz band, and it had flowers in its hair and it sang pretty songs louder and stronger than your mom’s gospel band from south carolina and it made Jesus proud. So proud. More proud than you’re ever going to know.
dunno anything about jazz music. the jazz age was interesting. it’s like everyone thought the world was going to hell… well, what would they think about the world today? it’s even worse, yet people are still getting along just fine.
She tapped her foot in time with the beat, her hair hiding her violet eyes. She could see the men looking for her, could recognize the outline of the guns on their sides, still she swilled the amber liquid in her glass and took a long drink, listening to the music in the smoky club.
the beat. the bass. blue tones flowing throughout their eyes, their throats, and at the tips of their toes. magic, pure magic.
The pianist went up and down on the keys, going through scales and trills, going from minor keys to major keys and back again. Her audience listened attentively, enjoying the awe-inspiring talent that the prodigy had to offer.
Jazz makes me move. It stirs my inner soul and outer ego. How insightful jazz can be, especially with a cigarrette and cup of coffee. I once met a legendary trombonist who said Jazz is for the passionate.
I was sitting in a coffee shop downtown with my uncle. There was a rather uninteresting jazz band playing in the corner, and it seemed to catch his attention rather well, given he ignored my plea for advice.
She stepped through the crowd and onto the stage. A glance in the mirror revealed a leg warmer out of place, so she bent nimbly over to adjust it. A wave of her finger signaled the music to start. And class began.
Jazz dance was the class that he dropped. He was kind of cute, although a bit younger than me. I told him about the tutoring class that he ended up taking instead of jazz.
Swinging music that tells of another time; a time thas peaople listened to real and it made them feel good!
Jazz is about the colour of life. Classical is perfection, jazz is the imperfections that make us—us. You don’t have to be the best to play jazz.
jazz is the starting point of all music. without it we would be nowhere in the music industry. would blues be alive without jazz? all the beautiful songs and artists that prospered during those beautiful years? never! jazz created everything.
is so slow and simple and throaty and lovely and we love to listen to it in clubs with cigarettes and a glass full of gin and our fur coats and high heels and outside the snow falls and our cheeks are rosy with the jazzy music and we can hear it all the way down the street and we love to listen oh how thick the air is with saxophone music it trickles down our back and into our ears and out of our mouths flows throaty renditions of a flappers invitation back upstairs
is so slow and simple and throaty and lovely and we love to listen to it in clubs with cigarettes and a glass full of gin and our fur coats and high heels and outside the snow falls and our cheeks are rosy with the jazzy music and we can hear it all the way down the street and we love to listen oh how thick
Jazz is cool, but I like it slow ad easy. Warm nights. Soft skin. My baby beside me.
melodious. soothing tones. engulfing you as you tap tap tap out the rhythm. smooth. enticing. melodious.
dancing in the streets. the world is collapsing around me. it sounds like jazz, but really isn`t.
A myriad of sound resonated around us
A mystical of harmonies, encircling trust
And in their glorious contribution
Look how we repay them
free falling is not one of those things that you have to jazz up.not knowing how or why pretty much squares that…i had nowhere to go but down
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath; this was extraordinary. The sound coming from the old speakers was slightly muted, but it wasn’t any less beautiful. The soft jazz music put me back to a time and place where all that mattered was creativity, and doing what you love.
a type of dance that if you were there and had her it was torture to all living creatures of this planet that we call earth. epic fail if you’re there. hypnotic.
I remember the first time I heard her voice. When she sang, you could feel the emotion as it danced upon her tongue. It was beautiful.
Bump me up, B, we flowin that jazz from tomorrow. Call me up when you heard that style, B, I gotta hear your take, it’ll make me see to be famous. Come on, B.
smooth.
I wish I knew more about jazz. I feel like people who like jazz have soul; it’s a fun genre and even though I know nothing about it, thinking about it makes me happy. Smooooth. My favorite jazz song (that I know of) is Blue in Green by Miles Davis.
Oh, jazz.
I love Jazz.. especially Count Basie.
I usually love the way jazz-people conduct themselves.. Like they are always part of a secret world, partial to secret, jazz blues knowledge that colors the whole world. Kind of like emo kids, but infinitely cooler.
Because jazz is what makes me think of him.
Standing there, under a light so bright, the dust particles can be seen floating around his hair. And his cheeks puff out, and his trumpet blares.
Applause.
He strides back to his seat, obvious pride glowing in his cheeks. I glance at him, and he glances back, and I know what we’re thinking, I know we both know the feeling.
I see a bar and classy people. You know, I’m lying. I can’t see anything but him. I want to forget him. I can’t. Jesus christ. I’ll even lie to a population of internet people. I miss you.
I used to dance jazz. I was spectacular. Everyone wanted me. Then Jazz ended, and I was alone. Alone in ways I had never known; that jazz was a part of me and at that moment, that part was dead.
Come on babe why don’t we paint the town
and all that jazz!
I’m gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down
and all that jazz!
Start the car I know a whoopee spot
where the gin is cold but the piano’s hot
It’s just a noisy hall where there’s a nightly brawl and
all
that
jazz…
“Could you jazz up this story a little?” And I looked at her as though she had asked me to make the Mona Lisa more modern and in-line with today’s pop culture. “…no,” I replied. “No, I can’t.”
We were all jazzed up as he rode in Earl’s brand new roadster. Larry hung at the side and slapped the ass of Henrietta Glock as we sped down Main. Officer Johnson chased us to the river but Earl hit the accelerator and we sped across and got away.
Jazz is a weird music style, It sounds weird and i really dislike it. It just isn’t my kind of music style. The name Jazz sounds cool, and it’s fit in Paris in a bar there. Moulin Rouge :D
He’s a slim, well-dressed saxophonist, bent forwards as he’s belting out a soulful and technically difficult solo with an ease that’s the true mark of a professional. Surrounded by the smoke swirling from cigarettes of patrons in the lounge, he is more of a silhouette than a man — a shadowy legend in the making.
Jazzy tunes whisper me home. Come home, Go home. The sweet melody of a small apartment and a big family.
it’s starts with be-bop.
with big band.
and that skip in your step.
a tap of your feet.
and the essence of poetry.
b/c it is about a feeling
the moment
and all that jazz.
jazz. black. cocktail dress. low lights. beautiful sounds. long nights. comfy chairs. warm bar. floating. music notes. burgundy. forest green. navy blue. ice. glass. jazz.
Scibbedy boo bop n dap dap wibbedy wop bop
Schniggedy bop bop doo boo bop doo shlap bap
Wibbedy wap doo wap wap, schiggedy doo bop bop bong