{"id":30949,"date":"2023-11-15T08:37:28","date_gmt":"2023-11-15T13:37:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.yiddishecup.com\/blog\/?p=30949"},"modified":"2023-12-07T16:53:07","modified_gmt":"2023-12-07T21:53:07","slug":"spoken-word-spoke-to-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.yiddishecup.com\/blog\/2023\/11\/15\/spoken-word-spoke-to-me\/","title":{"rendered":"“SPOKEN WORD” SPOKE TO ME"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\nMyers, an <\/strong><\/span>independent-living facility in Beachwood, Ohio, had a front awning that read Myers Apartments<\/em>. Why the word Apartments<\/em>? Myers was eight stories and was an apartment building. It didn’t look like a swimming pool. I had a bad attitude going into Myers. I was determined not to play my usual Yiddish music standards, like \u201cBay Mir Bistu Sheyn\u201d and \u201cTumbalaika.” Instead, I would read blog entries about real estate. My pianist, Alan Douglass, would follow up by singing \u201cDear Landlord\u201d by Bob Dylan.<\/p>\n

One Myers resident, seated in the front row, got up to leave halfway through the show. I suggested she stick around for \u201cGentile on My Mind” — a Yiddishe Cup tune — but she left. Alan and I went into \u201cBecause of You,\u201d a Tony Bennett classic. That placated some people, but not her. And then I read more bloggie stuff. My wife, Alice, followed with some “oy-robics” — Jewish chair exercises. (“Turn your neck to the right. Kvetch to your neighbor.” That sort of thing.)<\/p>\n

Afterward, Alice and I went to a Chinese restaurant to recap the show. We went to Ho Wah, where my mother and I had often dined. If my mother were still alive, she would not have liked the Myers show. Alice said,\u00a0 “Easy on the prose and Bob Dylan next time.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t listen to Alice. I followed up with a similar program at the Maltz Museum of Jewish Heritage, where I melded real estate prose and klezmer. After the Schmaltz gig, I ran into poet Barry Zucker at Whole Foods. He was passing out ban-pesticides literature. Barry told me he often recited poetry to music at open readings. I thought the poetry-and-jazz combination had died out sixty years ago. (By the way, Barry looked like Allen Ginsberg.)<\/p>\n

Dig <\/span><\/strong>this<\/strong><\/span> . . . <\/span>Readings on the Beat Generation<\/em> by Jack Kerouac, with Steve Allen on piano, produced by Bill Randle. That record hit me hard in college. Bill Randle — the Kerouac producer — had been a Cleveland DJ who moved to New York. [No, he traveled to NYC on weekends.] Randle used to play Yiddish Cup\u2019s version of \u201cBay Mir Bistu Sheyn\u201d on his Cleveland radio show in the 1990s. I was a fan of Randle mostly because of the Kerouac record. I even knew Randle\u2019s favorite pants were Levi\u2019s corduroys. (He mentioned that in a newspaper column he wrote.) Randle helped discover Elvis. Randle knew everybody. On his radio show, he would name-drop like crazy. Very big on Johnny Ray.<\/p>\n

I borrowed the Readings on The Beat Generation <\/em>record from the South Quad dorm library at Michigan. I didn\u2019t live at South Quad and wasn’t allowed to borrow records; I snuck the LP out under my jacket, dubbed it onto a cassette, and returned the record. Kerouac read a story called \u201cThe History of Bop.\u201d To repeat, Steve Allen on piano. Memorable.<\/p>\n

“Spoken word” — I liked it. I did it again. I read prose with the Klezmer Guy Trio, which was pianist Alan Douglass, singer Tamar Gray, and me on prose (and clarinet). We performed at Nighttown, the premier\u00a0 jazz club in Cleveland, a couple times in the 2010s. Jim Wadsworth, the Nighttown booker, said to me at our final performance, \u201cYou know why this place is full tonight? Because of Tamar, your singer.\u201d Thanks, Jimbo.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s a<\/span> <\/strong>spoken-word clip from 2010, live from the Maltz Museum:<\/p>\n

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