Maybe a decade ago this sax player I know calls to tell me about a gig he had coming up. Some nice jazz club in the Valley, Spazio or La Ve Lee or somewhere like that. Now I really dug the guy’s sound on tenor. Still do. He plays a relaxed be bop, and plays some mean funk, too. This was his funk band coming up. He rattled off the names of all these great players. Heavy cats as they say. We also got a singer, he told me, named Zoe.

Zoe? What’s her last name?

No last name, he says, she’s just Zoe. And she’s just starting out. She’s been doing a lot of acting.

She’s an actress?

Well, sort of. Actually, um, you’re not supposed to know this, but she’s been in porno for a long time, but under a different name.


So she’s a porn star jazz vocalist? I was actually kinda impressed, since no one just becomes a jazz singer, the way no one just becomes an opera singer. It takes years of practice. The porn by day, jazz by night (or other way around) lifestyle must have been hectic. And she’s just called Zoe?

Yeah. That’s her new singing name. She wants to move on from the acting and be a jazz singer.


Well, I said, she must be pretty good to be in your band.

Um…well, this is her first gig. But she’s really excited about it, the new career move and all. Just come on down and check us out.

Well, I missed the gig. So he sent me a clip. The band was good, and I gotta admit she was hip. In fact she was all hip, and I never seen a jazz singer move them quite like that. Poly rhythms, I guess you’d call them. Funny he didn’t include her singing. Not a peep, not a note.

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