Il Volo: European suits, big hair, Italian shoes, and they can sing. What's not to like? Photo © Mrs. S. |
When the song came on, the radio displayed “My Shining Hour”
and “Roy Hargrove”. The song, however, was Milestones. Even Mrs. S, who is not
all that good with the names of jazz songs but who likes “Milestones” looked at
the radio with a quizzical look. “That’s Milestones”, I said. She said, yeah,
what’s going on? Now, the song that was on the radio was really hot. It had
some of the best solos I’d ever heard on Miles’ modal tune, and the piano work
was fan-freaking-tastic. I told Mrs. S I had to have it, she agreed, and said
it should be easy to find on Amazon or Google.
The next morning, I tried mightily to find a Roy Hargrove
version of Milestones, but what I could find was not that song. (By the way, on
my way to work, Real Jazz played “My Shining Hour” by John Roney – another
coincidence.) I told Mrs. S of my travails, and she tried to work her Internet
magic, but in the end, she couldn't find it either. I told her I was going to
call Sirius and talk to the DJ and sort it out, because I figured they had made
a mistake and would be able to direct me to the recording.
So, I waited until about 20 minutes into Mark Ruffin’s time
slot, then gave the request line a ring. A human answered the phone: “Real
Jazz”. I was momentarily stunned. “Real Jazz,” he said again. I sputtered
something about making a request. He said, “Sure. Watcha wanna hear?” I told
him I wasn't sure but it was a song Mark Ruffin had played the day before, it
said Roy Hargrove My Shining Hour, but it was Milestones, definitely
Milestones, and I really wanted to hear it again, but I also wanted to know who
played on the track. “Okay. Hold on.” I waited about twenty seconds and when
the guy came back on, he told me what he knew about that track. By this time,
I could tell it actually was Mark Ruffin, as he started to sound like
himself and my shock had tapered off. I asked if he was Mark and he said, yeah.
And I said, I didn't think you would answer your own phones, and he said, I do
everything, man. I said, well thanks for the info, but you know, that song is
Milestones. He said, hold on. Came back, said, You know, the record company
f***ed up, because, the track says My Shining Hour, but you’re right, it’s
Milestones, so yeah, the record company f***ed up. (I love talking with jazz
people. We all talk normally, and the same language, literally.) I thanked him
for the information and asked that if he could play my request, to play it
between 5:30 and 6:00, because that’s when I’d be in the car. I told him I was
calling from Madison Alabama, and he said, okay man, thanks, and I said thank you.
So, I’m driving to my piano lesson, and Mark’s playing one
Horace Silver song after another. Uh-oh. Something going on, either it’s
Horace’s birthday or he died, or something. Sure enough, it gets to seven
minutes before Mark goes off and he comes on the air and says, as close as I
can remember it, “It’s a sad day today in the jazz world, as the great Horace
Silver has passed away. You just heard a few of Horace’s greatest songs, and
Les Davis is up at the top of the hour and he’s going to play a lot more of
Horace Silver’s music for you, as we've had a number of requests, but before I
go, I have one more request that I can’t ignore from a listener in Madison
Alabama. I had a great conversation with this guy, and he wanted to hear some
Roy Hargrove, so here it is. Swing safely, this Wednesday.” And, he did, in
fact, play Milestones by Roy Hargrove, although it was different from the
version I was talking about and was just called “Miles”. But still, it was what
I asked for.
I don't know the exact song, but something from this album woke us this morning, the day after Mr. Silver's death. |
And this morning, our alarm clock that plays from an iPod
with most of our jazz collection loaded on it went off at 5AM on the dot with –
wait for it – a song by Horace Silver.
It couldn't be clearer to me: I need to put jazz and music
at the center of my life from now on.
And the day we lost Horace Silver, was, indeed, a sad day, even if I did get my request played. Thanks, Mark and thank you, Sirius XM.