Bolden ft. Sean Mason Lyrics

Stop, this is the blues

Wouldn't be Hip-hop drops

Without the blues

Wouldn't be

Rock or pop

Without the blues

Neither R&B

Folk or country

Soul or Queen B

This ain't new news

Don't confuse

From the dark hues

Jazz and blues grew

Side by side too

Preview what I have in store

The tambourine is here to

Help you clap on two and four

We'll start at the foyer

Then we'll hit the back door

Wake wake up I promise not to bore

When I tell you the lore

Get down to the core

From Collier

All the way to Big Four

I am proud of the new age

Jazz has turned into today

Pushing boundaries, moving mountains

Robert Glasper Leads the way

Marquis Hill, of course, Cecile

Kamasi and Jazzmeia's ill

Stefon will thrill

Mixing the beats with artistry

Reaching the streets and bringing heat

That's so sweet that Buddy Bolden

Shufflin his feet

But then, king Wynton

A legend in our midst

To leave him out we'd be remiss

The man hit's a solo, I swear he never miss

Jazz at Lincoln Center is teaching us the gist

Then there is Miles who fused the styles

Who changed the dials and paved the aisles

So Coltrane meanwhile dreams

A love supreme

Above esteem

In the sixties

Things were shifting

They fought 'gainst the regime

Avant-Garde was breaking the rules hard

Showing extreme thought

Yet they were free

No fear as a pioneer could see

Ornette Coleman was a real G

The music sounded out of key

Atonal was the way to be

Bop was coming at you fast

Dizzy's cheeks were rather vast

And he helped with Latin Jazz

Charlie Parker has amassed

A legacy that's unsurpassed

Technicality that lasts

Make you feel like trash

Catch Thelonius Monk though

Who would've thunk though

Such virtuosity

From a little combo

Lionel Hampton said

Come up off the tempo

We about to swing

Big bands were a big show

They were written by the kings

Whose suits were dripping Henderson too,

Check with Benny G and best believe

We following the Duke

Edward K

Took the A

We better pay

Respect to the great

The Goat all the way

Since we speaking of goats

We need to add a few notes

The man they also call Pops

Talkin Satchmo

Know he beast he knocked Ella off her feet

By singing cheek to cheek

With gravel in his speech

The man was scattin' and actin'

And rappin', and tappin'

And singing and swinging

His cornet playing portraying

King Oliver from

New Orleans if you can believe

We made it where it was conceived

Where you can achieve

What you can perceive

And marching bands hitting the streets

With African sounds and classical sounds

Caribbeans changing the beat

And dancers shaking and baking and caking

You know we ain't getting no sleep

Where everyone brought their share

You feeling it in the air

You living on French cuisine

Congo square but let me show you what I mean

Forgive me for not talking 'bout ragtime

Scott Joplin, Jelly Roll, but let me ask Sean

There was once a young man

Who had nothing but plans

He stirred our music in a pan

Mixing bands with a cornet in his hand

He created Big Four

Is what you hear on the floor

It's from the African shores

And gospel doors

With marching corps

His pops died at age six

His alcohol was a fix

Was diagnosed with the Schiz

And so his last days had vanished quick

Buddy Bolden's King

Of this new age with the 90s on his back

He's king of the fusion and those EDM tracks

He's king of the cool, and of course the MJQ

He's king of the mambo and the modal

And the hard boppin' too

He lead from the blues, where nobody knew

His sound or his views

But still swings Jazz sings

Bolden's King