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... Charles Mingus - Tijuana Moods ...

Recorded in New York City,
on July 18 & August 6, 1957
Year of release 1962

Charles Mingus - bass, leader
Curtis Porter - alto, tenor saxophones

Oh, Lord, don't let 'em shoot us!
Oh, Lord, don't let 'em stab us!
Oh, Lord, don't let 'em tar and feather us!
Oh, Lord, no more swastikas!
Oh, Lord, no more Ku Klux Klan!

Name me someone who's ridiculous, Dannie.
Governor Faubus!

This mule ain’t from Moscow.
This mule ain’t from the South.
But this mule's had some learnin'
Mostly mouth-to-mouth.

This mule could be called stubborn, and lazy,
But in a clever sorta’ way
This mule could be workin’, waitin’ and learnin’ and plannin’

Eddie Preston - Trumpet
Richard Williams - Trumpet
Britt Woodman - Trombone
Don Butterfield - Tuba
Jerome Richardson - Soprano, baritone saxes, flute
Dick Hafer - Tenor sax, clarinet, flute
Booker Ervin - Tenor sax
Eric Dolphy - Alto sax, flute

вполне в стиле мингуса....начинает пэппер адамс, задавая мелодию на неуклюжем баритон-саксофоне (какой тембр!), потом вступают вкрадчиво, незаметно, потихоньку дополняя друг друга остальные инструменты.....дэнни ричмонд на ударных, потом саксы, где-то тяжело, рвуще, словно кусками вырывая мелодию рычит тромбон и затем блестящее соло букера эрвина на тенор-саксофоне....минуте на седьмой великолепный брейк для альт-саксофона, как я люблю....дальше, все как у мингуса, далекие выкрики его самого же, странные фразировки, рваные гармонии, с одной стороны слаженность, а с другой иллюзорная свобода действий музыкантов и их инструментов.....все очень красиво....дикой и необузданной красотой(как всегда у мингуса).....запись гнетущая, тяжелая и этим прекрасная( каким и должен быть "стон")

Man, there was this clown, and he was a real happy guy, a real happy guy, he had all these greens and all these yellows and all these oranges bubbling around inside of him. And he had just one thing he wanted in this world, he just wanted to make people laugh, that’s all he wanted out of this world, we was a real happy guy.

Let me tell you about this clown, he used to raise a sweat every night out on the stage and just wouldn’t stop, that’s how hard he worked, he was trying to make people laugh. He used to have this cute little gimmick where he had a seal follow him up and down a step-ladder, blowing Columbia the gem of the ocean out on a b-flat scale sears-roebuck a model thirteen twenty-two “A” plastic bugle, a real cute act, but they didn’t laugh, well you know, a few little things here and there, but not really, and he was booking out in all these tank towns, playing the rotary clubs, the Kiwanis clubs and the American legion hall; and he just wasn’t making it, but he had all these wonderful things going on inside of him, all these greens and yellows and all these oranges, he was a real happy guy, and all he wanted to do was to make people laugh, that’s all he wanted out of this world, to make people laugh, and then something began to grow, something that just wasn’t good began growing inside of this guy.

You know, it’s a funny thing. The smth began to trouble this clown, you know, little things, little things once in a while would happen, that would make that crowed begin to howl, but they were never the right things, like for example the time the seal got sick on the stage, all over the stage, the crowd just, just broke out, little things like that. And they weren’t suppose to … they weren’t supposed to be funny. This began to trouble him, and it bothered him. And this little thing began to grow inside of him. And all those greens and all those oranges and all those yellows, they just weren’t as bright as they used to be. And all he wanted to do was to make that crowd laugh, that’s all he wanted to do.

There was this one night in the buke when he was playing at the rotary club. All these dentists, these druggists, all these postmen sitting around, and they were a real cold bunch, nothing was happening. He was leaving the stage when he stumbled over his ladder and fell flat on his face, just flat on his face. When he stands up and he’s got this bloody nose and he looks out at the crowd and that crowd is just rolling on the floor, he’s just knocked them flat out, this begins to trouble and even more. He begins to see something, he begins to see something.

Oh! Will you never let me be?
Oh! Will you never set me free?
The ties that bound us
Are still around us
There's no escape that I can see
And still those little things remain
That bring me happiness or pain

Weird nightmare
You haunt my every dream
Weird nightmare
Tell me what's your scheme?
Can it be that you're a part
Of a lonely broken heart?

Weird nightmare