Jimmy Jazz

The Clash “Jimmy Jazz” Sex? No Drugs? No Rock and Roll? No, Rock Jazz March What Does It Tell Me: One scene in a crime novel is enough to write a joyous song about. It’s sung almost like a praise to God in underworld vernacular; it doesn't need to mention God to get the feeling of joy but it sounds like an affirmation of life the moment the saxophone signals the crescendo. In the world of crime you win some, you lose some – and when you're down you think you'll never be up again and when you're up you can’t imagine being back at rock bottom. Such is life, in a way. But in the criminal world, where enemies are made, you can dodge a proverbial bullet one day just to get shot down the next. Reminds me of: “Fortune Son” mixed with “Long As I Can See The Light”, both by Creedence Clearwater Revival; the color light blue; Gary Oldman playing Drexl in the movie True Romance; Mafioso; graphic private detective novel 100 Bullets; “Sweet Virginia” by The Rolling Stones The song starts out with a starry-night campfire vibe, with electric chords for some pretty leisurely whistling to lean against. The shaky vocals and pounding bass that simultaneously come in make the sound of a junkie singing a lite disco song destined to fill trashy 1970’s/80’s roller rinks. But the instant lyrics on police and criminals make it obvious the singer is playing the narrating role of a criminal. The lyrics aren’t the highlight of the song: The narrator has to answer the cops on the whereabouts of his friend with the criminal sounding name that is the title of the song, and talks about murder (about Jimmy Dread- “cut off his ears and chop off his head”), so we can deduce that these guys- the narrator, Jimmy Jazz, and Jimmy Dread, are all criminals. The narrator probably has something to hide so he doesn't tell the cops the whole truth about Jimmy Jazz, who may or may not be the same person as Jimmy Dread, because if Jimmy Dread is dead, and this whole situation is “such a relief!” to the narrator, and the cops are going to try to interrogate Jimmy Jazz, then if Jimmy Jazz is dead he won’t rat out the narrator, and that would certainly be a load off our guy’s shoulders. And I didn't know what “Satta massagana” meant until today (it means “give thanks”), which only complicates things further by being ironic. Whatever cryptic mob story is unfolding, let me tell you again, it’s not what makes the song good. It’s the music, which plays like a New Orleans march that starts off with slow worry than, as the pieces fall into place, the guitar solo signals the hope, and then the sax solo provides standard joy for this listener, and as the two intertwine not even halfway through the song, it only gets better. The first verse is repeated, this time with intense relief instead of end-of-the-world worry, and as the words “what a relief” and the second sax solo simultaneously are expressed, the ultimate joy comes in, the crescendo comes into full effect. Now the narrator is rambling curiously like he’s putting the finishing touches on a well-done puzzle and pleads, “Don't you bother me, not anymore/ I can't take this tale, oh, no more”, as if he’s putting this whole mess behind him and then humorously plays on the word “jazz”, making scatting sound like he’s so bored he’s got nothing better to do. By the end of the song, he’s confidently declaring to the cops, “So go look all around, you can try your luck, brother/ And see what you found/ But I guarantee that it ain't your day/ Chop! Chop!”. Quoteables: “I feel like a soldier/ Look like a thief” A criminal would think this, especially if they worked as a soldier for a criminal enterprise.

Younglust: You may be on to something Drumhead: I think you're way off, but I think we could both agree - If only punk rock and jazz merged more often...