Today you're going to make a modern recording. All this technology. The base plays first then the drums comes in later, and they track the trumpet, and a singer comes in and they ship the tapes somewhere. Well none of the musicians have played together. You can't play jazz music that way. In order for you to play jazz, you've got to listen to them. The music forces you at all times to address what other people are thinking, and for you to interact with them with empathy. And to deal with the process of working things out. That's how our music really could teach what the meaning of American democracy is.
The thing about Deford Bailey, Ray Charles, and Charlie Pride, the two or three black people who were known to be in country music. They were accepted. The musicians accepted them at a time when the culture did not accept. There's a truth in the music. And it's too bad that we, as a culture, have not been able to address that truth. That's the shame of it. The art tells more of the tale of us coming together.
Louis Armstrong's overwhelming message is one of love. Really, when you hear his music, it's of joy. His music is so joyous. He was just not going to be defeated by the forces of life. And these forces visit all of us. My great-great-grandmother used to say that life has a board for every behind. And there's a board just fit to yours. Your board is not going to work on someone else's behind. And when it's your turn your going to come up and that paddle is going to be put on your booty and it's going to hurt as bad as it can hurt. And Louis Armstrong is there to tell you after you get that paddlin'... "It's alright son!"