Remembering That Sonny Rollins Concert; That Sonny Rollins Interview...
Interviewing Sonny Rollins made me feel like I had not wasted my time learning as much as I could about music...
Last night, a good friend sent me a picture of a concert ticket. Not just any concert ticket. It was the Sonny Rollins gig we both went to, back in 2011. That gig rejuvenated the Wellington Jazz Festival. It had died in a fire, out of money, out of ideas, out of luck, and then someone canny decided to just invite one of the greats; to stage a one off gig, one night, no festival - just the best (or one of the very best) to ever do it. A living legend. Almost every year since, we’ve been lucky to see the likes of Ornette Coleman and Herbie Hancock and Bill Frisell…and many others, and it’s all on the back of that Sonny Rollins gig. A festival exists too. Once again.
My friend said she’d found the ticket stub in an old book. One she hadn’t opened for a while. I loved everything about this. I love ticket stubs. I use them as bookmarks too, love finding them in old books…misplacing them with purpose.
Stubs: #96 – Sonny Rollins, Wellington, 2011
I also started writing about ticket stubs many moons ago - a way to re-remember gigs, and to think about the trinkets we hold on to, and why.
I still have my Sonny Rollins ticket stub and think about it - a lot. The gig was great. As it was always going to be. But even better, and more importantly for me, I interviewed Rollins ahead of the gig. He was in his 80s then, his 90s now…
He told me all about working with Charlie Parker and knowing Billie Holiday. I mean that’s two of the names in jazz. But there was more. Far more. He was tight with Max Roach and worked with Miles Davis. He knew Coltrane. He knew Coleman. He knew…them all!
I’ve told this story many times, but an hour or so on the phone with Mr Sonny Rollins! I emerged almost punch drunk after. My wife remembers it was like I’d seen a ghost, or witnessed a miracle, or both. I was - probably quite pleasantly, though only momentarily - speechless.
I knew that Rollins had played with Leonard Cohen, had been the guest saxophonist soloing on The Rolling Stones’ Waiting On A Friend, had had these pop crossovers as well as releasing monumental solo albums, and playing with others legends. I knew all this, and I got to talk with the subject of these stories. To hear first hand the tales…
I know now, what I maybe knew then but couldn’t articulate: The reason I stumbled down the hall after putting down the phone (yes, it was long ago enough for it to be a landline) was because this was the first time, or one of the first times at least, where I felt like wasting my time listening to far too much music and reading all about it had not in fact been a waste. I had the stories, first hand, from a legend. I had not embarrassed myself in conversation with him either. A little gushing is allowed. It’s Sonny Rollins! But also, you move through that, you breathe, you focus, you realise you are there to get a story. No matter how mind blowing it mind be to hear that he still tried heroin even after Charlie Parker pleaded with him to not follow him down.
That Sonny Rollins ticket stub is my reminder of the gig, of the interview, of good musical friendships…the person sending me a shot of her recently unearthed ticket over a decade after seeing the show…she knew! She knows…
