James Carter can blow on this

The BBQ Pit
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This week’s NEW YORKER includes a “Talk of the Town” piece on jazz wunderkind James Carter, and how he drops by the 48th Street music shops every other day to see what kind of new saxophones are in, and how he tests them out and buys them up.

The other day he ran into his pal Joshua Redman, another burgeoning superstar of jazz, who good-naturedly jested with him about all those gosh-darn saxophones he owns.

We are allowed to follow Mr. Carter through his extensive collection, as he points out his “rare F-mezzo Conn saxophone from 1928,” and his first Selmer tenor, which he calls “Lady T,” and the saxophones he has named “Geisha Noir,” “Bubba,” “Baby Bubba,” and “Mahalia,” the last being one of only five made by a Swiss company called Das Blashaus.

Now, I’m of the opinion that James Carter plays jazz like my ass chews gum (and Redman is a few steps further down the ladder of talent, but we won’t discuss him now).

I’m also a guy who owns one saxophone, a tenor, and stands out in front of those same shops on 48th Street looking at all those shiny baritones and altos with eyes like a Powerpuff Girl because I can’t afford to own them.

So I’m fucking offended by this article, and by Carter in general. This is like running a piece by Jerry Seinfeld where he “shares” his collection of sports cars with you. “Aren’t these nice? YOU’LL never have anything as nice as this!!!”

I’m sure some of you will say “Okay, but at least he plays them…it’s not like some millionaire buying a Stradivarius and locking it up in a safe-deposit box as a collector’s item.”

Well, fuck you. Sonny Rollins is still playing the fuckin’ beater horn he’s had since the 1950s. And Carter ain’t fit to empty Rollins’s bedpans. No fucking way would Sonny own three dozen saxes and give 'em all stupid fucking names, to boot.

James Carter. Prick. I’ll bet he votes for Republicans, too.

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Eh. Who cares if he has a puff article written about him detailing all of his magnificent and expensive saxes that you or I could never buy. He probably just wanted to toot his own horn.

Heehee.

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Mully, that one fell a little flat, don’tcha think?

Uke, I’m all with you. If I hear another reference to Jay Leno’s fucking motorcycle collection, I think I’ll puke.

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Admittedly, it does blow.

That said, I must make a Blue Note: It is his money and he can blow it anyway he wishes.

I better be careful or someone might spit (valve) at me…

Yer pal,
Satan

I HAVE BEEN SMOKE-FREE FOR:
Three months, three days, 16 hours, 44 minutes and 49 seconds.
3787 cigarettes not smoked, saving $473.49.
Life saved: 1 week, 6 days, 3 hours, 35 minutes.

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Gee Ike, you seem a bit sharp today?! I can’t put my finger on it …

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“Listen for a minute. The sustain- listen to it.”

“I’m not hearing anything.”

“You would though. If it were playing.”

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Satan, you’re gonna need a tuba Vaseline when people ream your ass for those puns. After all, you alto know better. We’ve been through this tenor eleven times already, right? Just indulging in your bass sense of humor, I guess- it’s just like you to piccolo blow like that.

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Ukulele Ike,

I can sympathize with you man. I’m into computers and gadgets. When I think about that Geek, Bill Gates, having all 'dem gadgets, and dozens of computers, to show off in his 40 Million Dollar mansion, and me without even a proper video accelerator board for my PC…

Sili

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John, in a perfect world, you would’ve been dragged outside and shot for those puns. But alas, this is not a perfect world. So I guess I’ll have to do it myself.

Oh, by the way, what’s your address? And do you have neighbors?

Of course, I’m just kidding John. I’m not gonna drag you outside.

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Mojo–

Brilliant. Fucking brilliant quote.

To the OP: I never did understand the concept of owning something merely to possess it. Now, I could see if he owned many saxaphones for the reason that each had their own qualities, and depending on his mood/intent/composition he was playing/whatever he could pick one that fit, but it seems to me that the whole idea is to just own a shitload of saxaphones just to own them. That’s awful silly in my book.

I mean, I could see owning even 3-4 automobiles, or 3-4 homes, if one was rediculously rich, but to own dozens of classic cars (or even 1 classic car) just to drag it around to car shows, or even better, just to have people stop by your house to look at it, is vain BEYOND all reason.

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Who gets 'em when he dies?

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Thanks to all commiserators…the punsters can all go and soak their heads. (Golly, I love the Pit!)

If he’s got any higher feelings at all, I’m sure that Carter is now horribly embarassed by that article. He happens to have two new albums out simultaneously, and I’m sure his publicist, while desperately casting about for something that might get him into the NEW YORKER, hit on his collection of christened horns.

I’m now planning on giving MY sax a name, but I can’t decide between “Mary Roberts Rinehart” or “Pere Goriot.”

Doug: Dunno. Possibly he’s thinking of endowing the “James Carter Memorial Museum of Saxophones with Stupid Fucking Names.”

Y’know, I’m sure Louis Armstrong had a couple dozen trumpets…I know the King of England gave him a gold-plated cornet back in the 1930s…but he sure as fuck didn’t wave 'em around in people’s faces.