GK:n after a word from the Ketchup Advisory Board.
You work in a music store and you find out that everyone there loves cool jazz like Charlie Mingus (BASS) and Thelonious Monk (PIANO) and Stephane Grappelli (VIOLIN) and Miles Davis (FN TRUMPET) and Max Roach (DRUMS) and Gerry Mulligan (SAX) , so you start a band, called the Pat Richards Sextet and it's really cool (MUSIC) -- you all wear dark glasses even indoors at midnight and you speak in monosyllables (SERIES OF MONOSYLLABLES: YEAH-- RIGHT-- MAN-- HEY -- YO --- DUDE---and attractive women hang around the tiny bistros where you play for hours for five dollars apiece and it's beautifuln (SS: Oh --wow, I loved that. Right there. That note. Oh wow. And that one too. I love this part. Right here. Here it is. Wait for it. -- There -- That part. I love that.) And you do a 37 minute version of "Do, a Deer A Female Deer" that jazz critics are talking about (TR, FN COOL: IT'S LIKE NOW. IT'S GOT THIS WHOLE NOWNESS ABOUT IT. TOTALLY. YOU COULDN'T HAVE DONE THIS TEN YEARS AGO. BECAUSE IT'S NOW. IT'S HERE. IT'S THIS. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. TOTALLY.) and you're riding highn and then something happens. You walk in to the Electric Cellar one night and the violinist is out of tune (BAD VIOLIN RIFF) and the piano guy is off in his own world (LOOSE PIANO) and he's brought his girlfriend who sings (SS FLAT SCAT)...
GK: ... and the bass is having some sort of drug reaction (BASS LOWER) and the sax player has been smoking too much of the wrong thing (SAX ASTHMA) and suddenly the guitarist switches to sitar (SITAR) and the drummer starts slowing down (TEMPO SWITCH) and speeding up (DRUMS) ) and during the break, the members of the Pat Richards Sextet gather in the green room and for the first time, speak in whole sentences.
GR:n What's going on here?n What happened to us?
AS:n Something feels terribly wrong.
PJ:n It isn't music anymore. It's totally random.
PD:n Maybe we should quit music and become songwriters.
RD: Wait a minute.n Where's that red bottle? I think we're not getting enough ketchup.
GK: Some body forgot to bring the ketchup. It's so easy to forget. With ketchup on hand, the band hits its stride. (MUSIC) It's cool. It's now. It's jazz. (MONOSYLLABLES: YEAH-- RIGHT--MAN-- HEY -- YO --- DUDE-- A message fromn the Ketchup Advisory Board.
These are the good times,
Everything is cool
n nnnnnn Everyone in black pants
Sitting on a stool
Life is flowing
Like ketchup on your chicken quesadillas
Gk: Ketchup......for the good times.