[Remembered in 2011] Was excited to motor over the river to Cambridge. Had missed Longhair's last Boston gig cause I wasn’t on the ball, so was up for this - who knows we may not pass this way again.
And the story at the time was that Jay McNeely had plug shut his career down, cause things were so slow in L.A. in the 1960s and 1970s, and had gone to work for the Post Office. This was familiar territory! The story I heard was he retired from the U.S. Post**, and, as interest in R&B history resumed, had gone back into performing. How good would his chops be? He came on and all doubt fled. Honking in the style of the honkers which he was very foremost among. He blew away the audience which was mostly unprepared for incredible intensity. Was it his Deacon's Jump?
Honk, blare, bleet, flomm.
He started into screeching.
Bonk, geesh, frang, blong.
He was wailing.
Now he weren’t no Miles Davis with his back to the audience. He was confronting the audience, and audience into which he soon was wading. You see this picture here with him in an insane limbo pose, and playing? It was just like that, and he was an old man!
He played tenor sax but to me it looked as big as a bass sax – all in the dark of the Night Stage night club. He was a honkin' blast – but sure enough not from the past. It was all right there. He started walking through the crowd. He walked out on the street.
We were in the narrow balcony, from where that old club provided a great view, and damn if he didn’t come playing the sax up to our table there too. This all took more than a half an hour. And he was playing, blowing, honking, playing jazz all the time. And looking you in the eye too.
I never saw anything like Big Jay McNeeley!
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