THOMAS STANLEY JAZZCODES OUTRO Songtext
von Moor Mother

It is a peculiar word, jazz
Its illegitimate origins lost in the murky brothels
Where it was conceived and burnt
But many observers have told us that jazz used to mean sex
And maybe it needs to go back to meaning sex

To being identified with coitus and copulation
Hyper-creativity, fecundity and birth
Ultimately, perhaps, it is good that the people abandoned jazz
Replaced it with musical products better suited to capitalism′s designs


Now jazz jumps up like Lazarus if we allow it
To re-discover itself as a living music
A subvеrsive sutra of inner movеment, fertility, tension and release
Released now from the prison bars of metrical stability

And the black and white keys of chromatic incarceration
Swing becomes a quantum oscillation of adventure
An expedition into chapters of black history
That did not survive the fires at Alexandria

A journey into black futures that have not been lived and will not be realized
Unless and until we can dive into Willie Dixon's spoonful
And bathe ourselves in that jazz
Pour it into our scalps, massage it into our aching joints
Paint it across the soles of our feet


Then we can dance the Juba into New Congo Square
That Sonny has built for us between the rings of Saturn
Between C-sharp and B-natural
Be natural, be natural