By monkus

the spirit

of sonny rollins

saxaphone practice under a bridge somewhere on the other side of the keeling an easterly wind brought the smog across from china and the city become a sequence of ghostly possibilities in the distance....but under a bridge some sanctuary and the odd collation of thoughts...rollins practicing under the bridge in new york and then lucky enough to see him in london a few years gone...and here three players and some pretty cool tones brought a reason to pause and to smile and, for once, to get lost in music rather than the usual gepgraphical chaos..

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