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a monologue from
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THIS WAS OUR MUSIC
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[A small studio in a public radio station. The red ON AIR light flashes. ALAN stares at DENISE, who frantically points at him.]
ALAN: Uh...sorry. That was Miles Jones and Quincy...Jones...from the live album "Live at Montreaux..." I'm sorry, I've just received some disturbing news that I need to share with you.
[DENISE shakes her head and waves her hands to get him to stop.]
ALAN: As we know, this has been an especially brutal time for public radio. We're being blamed for all manner of federal budgetary nonsense while being hammered for being biased, liberal, intellectual and all of the above. Through it all, KCPR has provided you with an alternative to the screaming street-corner charlatans with their unending stream of depression, recession, war and death battering you from every direction. But market research triumphs over good intentions, and next week, KCPR will become a talk radio station.
[Now in a full-on panic, DENISE gets out her cell phone, and ALAN grabs it out of her hand and tosses it off stage. She runs off to get it.]
ALAN: I've also been told that the timeless, vital jazz music I've been playing all my life is no longer required or desired by the marketplace, and that I'm to begin playing smooth jazz. Now, you may wonder what I think of smooth jazz. I think smooth jazz is to music as getting a rectal exam is to sex. It's utterly free of soul, heart or balls. It's music that was made to be heard in dentists office, elevators and anywhere else you want to get the hell out of. If you held a gun to my head and said "listen to smooth jazz or die" I'd BEG you to shoot me. If I had my way, I'd round up anyone who plays or listens to smooth jazz and set them on fire while their children watch! But since I have no choice in what happens to me or my music, I'm going to abandon my normal playlist and play you the strangest, most abrasive and unlistenable jazz I can get my hands on. Starting with... (looks through record pile) Side 3 of Miles Davis' acid jazz tranwreck "Dark Magus." No melody, no tune, just 45 minutes of electric acid trip dark night of the soul freaking out. Back after this.
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Read the full text of this play
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Copyright © 2011 by Mike Rothschild
CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that This Was Our Music is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright convention and the Universal Copyright Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional and amateur stage performing, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.
Inquiries concerning all rights should be addressed to the author at rothschildmd@gmail.com
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