Gavin Hill, experience in Audio books, Podcasting and Educational
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
you're going to explain why Arnett Coleman is especially relevant to beat Generation author. So here's an extract from another book, Vine Land. No, not violent T V. Yes, mm mhm. Mhm. Outside the V note, a number of bombs stood around the front windows, looking inside, fogging the glass with their breath. From time to time, a collegiate looking type, usually with a date, would emerge from the swinging doors, and they would ask him one by one in a line down that short section of Bowery sidewalk for a cigarette subway fare. The price of a beer All night February wind would come barreling down the wide key way of Third Avenue, moving right over them all the shavings cutting oil sludge of New York's lathes. Inside, McClintock's fear was swinging his *** off. His skin was hard as if it were part of the skull. Every vein and whisker on their heads stood out sharp and clear. Under the green baby spot. You could see the twin lines running down from either side of his lower lip, etched in by the force of his, um, be sure looking like extensions of his moustache. He blew a hand carved ivory alto saxophone with a 4.5 read, and the sound was like nothing any of them had heard before. The usual divisions prevailed. Collegians did not dig and left after an average of 1.5 sets. Personnel from other groups, either with a night off or taking a long break from somewhere crosstown or uptown, listened hard trying to dig. I'm still thinking, they would say, if you asked people at the bar all looked up as if they did dig in the sense of understand, approve of emphasis with. But this was probably only because people who prefer to stand at the bar have universally an inscrutable look. Mm mm, mhm. Mm. The group on the stand had no piano. It was bass drums, McClintock and a boy he'd found in the Ozarks who blew a natural horn in F. The drummer was a group man who avoided pyrotechnics, which may have irritated the college crowd. The base was small and evil looking, and his eyes were yellow with pinpoints in the centre. He talked to his instruments. It was taller than he was and didn't seem to be listening. Hormone alto together favoured sixth and minor fourths, and when this happened, it was like a knife fight or tug of war. The sound was consonant, but as if cross purposes were in the air, the solos of McClintock's fear was something else. There were people around, mostly, who wrote for Downbeat magazine or the liners of LP records who seemed to feel he played. Disregarding the chord changes completely. They talked a great deal about soul and the anti intellectual, rising rhythms of African nationalism. It was a new conception, they said, and some of them said, but lives Since the soul of Charlie Parker dissolved away into a hostile march wind nearly a year before a great deal of nonsense have been spoken and written about him. Much more was to come. Some of it's still being written today. He was the greatest alto on the Postwar scene, and when he left it, some curious negative will. A reluctance and refusal to believe in the final cold fact possessed the lunatic fringe to scroll in every subway station on sidewalks in **** uars. The denial bird lives so that among the people in the V note that night were at a conservative estimate, a dreamy 10% who had not got the word and saw in McClintock's fear, a kind of reincarnation. He plays all the notes. Bird missed. Somebody whispered in front of food. It was near closing time. The last set. It's nearly time to go, Charisma said. Where is power? Oh, here she comes, Said Winston. Yes, I don't know. Mm. Outside the Wind had its own permanent gig and was still blowing.