I probably should have written this last week, but I had other things on my mind (musically and otherwise). There were a lot of entertainment deaths in the last couple of weeks. Malcolm-Jamal Warner was a part of my childhood. As was Hulk Hogan to a degree, even though I was never particularly a fan of wrestling. And Ozzy--well, that one's hitting me harder than I would have expected, especially given the fact that I've only been a fan for about fifteen years.
But there was another death that caught my attention. It made a few headlines, but I feel it was overshadowed by everyone else. Last week, while watching "The Late Show with Stephen Colbert," I noticed that Louis Cato and the Late Show Band were playing Chuck Mangione's hit "Feels So Good" as the show was coming back from a commercial break. Colbert brought it to the attention of the audience and Cato mentioned that Mangione had just died at the age of 84.
When I think of jazz, I tend to think of people like Miles Davis, John Coltrane (who I'm actually listening to as I write this), Art Blakey, Thelonious Monk, Charles Mingus, and Jimmy Smith. (Wow! That's a hell of a band, if I do say so myself.) Consequently, I'll be the first to admit that I have certain prejudices when it comes to jazz. When I ran the music department at Barnes & Noble, I actually once told my district manager that filing Kenny G in the jazz section was an insult to the memories of Coltrane and Charlie Parker. I do tend to abhor what is referred to as "smooth jazz"--I'm even mean enough to say that it's called "smooth jazz" because it acts as a natural laxative. When I hear it, I tend to picture Garth Algar freaking out in a dentist's chair.
And I realize that jazz, like any other genre of music, evolves over time. Different artists bring their own perspectives and interpretations and make their own unique art. I really should lighten up and become more tolerant. I'm not going to do it this week, but perhaps someday. But I digress...
Even though Mangione's music tends to lean more toward the smooth rather than the cool, it is hard for me to just dismiss his contributions to music. I'm also one of those odd blokes who tends to critique music both objectively and subjectively. It's one thing to say that this is good or that sucks and be able to cite reasons why. In my case, hearing certain pieces of music also tends to evoke a lot of memories of places and events and even other people. It's usually quite difficult for me to separate the music from those memories.
Even though I have memories of "Feels So Good" from when it was a hit, when I hear it, I often remember 1997. I was driving around Bloomington on my day off from my job waiting tables. I had not yet moved to that city and had it in my mind that I wanted to do so. The radio station in my car played "Feels So Good." I thought back to hearing it nearly twenty years earlier and how much I liked it even then. Along with Frank Mills's "Music Box Dancer," it was one of the few songs I would hear on the radio that didn't have words. Weirdly enough, hearing it again did, in fact, feel so good. When I was a kid, I didn't know the song's title or who played it, so I was delighted when the DJ said it.
Before too long, I found myself at one of my favourite record stores in downtown Bloomington, just off the Indiana University campus. I decided I wanted to track down this piece of music. I found two CDs--the original album the song was featured on and a "greatest hits" compilation. To my horror, I discovered the compilation used the "single edit" of the song. My moral opposition to such things prompted me to buy the original album--something I've found is usually the best course of action, hence these weekly missives.
I listened to that album many times over during that time of my life, particularly the full nine minute and forty-two seconds long title track. I even sat down behind a piano and managed to pick out the melody by ear. To this day, when I hear the song--or any track from the album--I sometimes feel like I'm once again behind the wheel of a 1988 Toyota Tercel on the streets of Bloomington... preferably in the rain.
Released originally in 1977 (a fact I'm proud to say I knew before I saw the movie Doctor Strange), please enjoy Chuck Mangione with Feels So Good. It still does.
Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.
Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!
The Reverend Will the Thrill
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