This is the song that started it all . . . contemporary poetry backed by the smooth and sexy sax and beat bass stylings of the original Jazza Diction.
Jazza Diction refuses to color in the lines. This diverse group boasts the best in Word Jazz and likes to stretch out on occasion to promote the idea that music
Jazza Diction refused to color in the lines. We boasts the best in word jazz and liked to stretch out on occasion to promote the idea that music is music, Daddy-O!
After three EP's and two LP's, the band parted company due to artistic differences, but aimably.
Brian, Don, Ray and Tim still perform as Storm Train and I (Jef) am looking to revive Jazza Diction with new musicians.
Story behind the song
Ray invited me (Jef Peace) to visit his studio when him and Don were jamming some time. I took him up on the offer and within minutes of arriving, Don started playing the bass riff and Ray joined in on tenor sax. I had just finished a 12-year labor of love (Hindsight) the week before and as they jammed, I started reciting the poem. Ray stopped, gave me a mic and started playing again . . . in a couple sessions, "Hindsight" and soon after, Jazza Diction was born.
Sorry I can't offer a free download, but I don't need the hassle of parents filing suit against me 'cuz I say a few naughty words and their precious kiddies (who have never heard such filth) become crack addicts and hookers after listening to my humble little poem.
Groove on, Daddy-O!
Lyrics
Hindsight
There’s an emergence, see?
Hidden in a retro-fit of calm urgency.
A dream-like awareness similar in nature
to an O.J.-sodden fit of temper thrust thoughtlessely in my face
forcing a sneeze
Turn away now while I blow my nose I blow
Hindsight being what it is, ya’ know?
Wow! . . . Could I, indeed, have had a V-8?
Garcon! Check please! Pile on table grows larger as pockets deflate.
Where was I? . . . Oh yeah . . .
I see the behind and twist my mind so that it fits the now
Excuses, man, that’s the ticket, the cat’s pajamas, the cat’s meow!
The buck stops where? Never here, Daddy-O!
By the way,
Who-is-that-fat-lady-over-there-yeah-the-one-with-the-electric-blue-hair
Yeah-the-one-singin’-for-no-appearant-reason
Yeah-the-one-wailin’-off-key
Can ya' dig it?
She’s standing right there on that frozen lake of fire right below the flyin’ piglet,
Dressed to the nines like a Viking ho
Hindsight being what it is, ya’ know?
Yeah, I’ve got a penis, you want it?
Here, it’s yours, no strings attached. Don’t forget to feed it, but don’t let it get fat!
It’s been nothing but trouble I think I’d like to see it go.
Never mind.
Big Brother is watching us mice and Santa already knows who’s naughty and nice
E Pluribus Unum; more f**k***g hype like Jesus loves us all red, yellow, black and white.
I left Paradise looking for Paradise and it turned out to be Hell,
Same s**t, different smell.
Then again, I think it smells the same maybe it’s a texture thing. . .
. . . but I digress . . . my thoughts are slow . . .
Hindsight being what it is, ya’ know?
Divergence, convergence, resurgence; a lot of urgence, see?
Where oh where has my little dog gone? Here Kitty, Kitty.
Ignorance is bliss, miss and the cow jumped over the moon.
Life is sweet but death comes so soon.
The Man, the Machine, the Collective Twit;
piety in society who needs this s**t?
Am I too forward? Do you think I should go?
Hindsight being what it is, ya’ know?
I never wished I was an Oscar Meyer weiner; does that make me strange?
I never wanted to be home on the range.
I’m a coffee-achiever, a hip-hep-cat-go-getter
Not a suave picture of pristine perfection in a Letterman’s sweater.
Now is there egg on my face? Does my Fruedian slip show?
Well, Baby . . . Hindsight is what it is, ya’ know.
© 1999, Jef Peace - all rights reserved
