North Shore Jazz
North Shore Jazz is Chattanooga's #1 Jazz Band. Their sterling quality is known across Chattanooga to fans young and old, rich and poor, domestic and foreign. Truly no band has brought such a dazzling display of zesty and exciting jazz sounds to the city for over 100 years. These boys' Jazz will surely take you on a journey filled with high-flying heart stopping solos, exotic sounds from around the world, and sweet tender caresses sure to inflame even the most lukewarm of romances. North Shore Jazz: literally no one is better.
North Shore Jazz was created in early 2018 by Antonio Bettini, one man whose love of Jazz compelled him to write a craigslist advertisement calling for local musicians to form a jazz group.
Hailing from the North Shore Chattanooga area, the utilization of the "North Shore" as an element of the group name was quintessential to Bettini, and after multiple days of intense deliberation, it was decided that the only appropriate compliment to "North Shore" was "Jazz", and from that moment on, North Shore Jazz was born.
The North Shore Jazz musicians hail from a variety of backgrounds:
a self-taught saxophonist, Antonio began his musical career at the age of eleven; playing the French horn in middle school band, where he solidly maintained the fifth chair position throughout all of both middle and high school. When he turned twenty-four, he decided to get a saxophone because it seemed like a good idea, he was not wrong. Playing the saxophone did, however, cause Antonio to suffer an irreversible neurological condition causing him to write about himself in the third person.
Little is known of percussionist Stephen Shaw's background save that he spent the last ten years migrating throughout the frigid Scandinavian Islands, where he learned myriad percussion techniques from his time spent performing with the locals. He also is a champion potter and has made so many urns, vases, and other forms of containers, I could not even begin to consider counting them.
Eli Schott (2018-2019 rip)
bass vigilante, Eli began his playing career at the age of fifteen, and it was not long before he found himself immersed in raw metal music for more than nineteen years; he is emerged hardened and tonal, the living embodiment of all that is rhythm bass.
Jon Carter (2018-2018 rip)
Tenor saxophonist Jon Carter comes from a world of blood, sweat, and tears as a football coach turned jazz player. His playing tells a tale of both suffering and success, pain and gain, agony and pure adrenal strength; through his horn the raw thunder of football and the tender intensity of jazz are united into one.
With a background as diverse as the harmonies of jazz itself, these four musicians collaborate to provide Chattanooga with a sound that is as harmonious and sweet as it is engaging and exciting.
Look for North Shore Jazz on a street corner or restaurant near you, because that is where they will be; and that, dear reader, is where it's going to be lit.
2019 Member Update
We here at North Shore Jazz have been blessed moving into the new year, 2019. Incontestably the band has dominated the city of Chattanooga and it is becoming increasingly difficult to walk the streets without a gaggle of paparazzo scumbags trying to cash in on the nations latest musical super group. Most importantly, however, is that we have added some new members that need proper introduction.
Here is the proper introduction:
"Gone but Never Forgotten, sleep well sweet prince"
Jack Marshall is nothing short of a guitar prodigy. Originally born Theodore Jaqueline Marshawitz to the wealthy Marshawitz family, Jack found himself living at the center of opulence. The family's wealth knew no bounds, and his bourgeois upbringing inflicted upon his soul an unconquerable ennui. An adolescent Theodore Jaqueline then hatched a plan to right his spirit and give life to his dreary landscape of pomp and circumstance. Unbeknownst to his family, he had been spending his life since age nine studying the guitar in secret. He knew it was against the family way, but the Jazz burned in his blood too fiercely. When the clock struck the midnight hour signalling his 18th birthday, Theodore Jaqueline Marshawitz cast off his cloak of falsehood, shouting, "To hell with you and your fancy ways! Your banks and your expense accounts, your routing and re-routing of capital, damn you and damn it all, I am a Jazz Boy!" The head of the Marshawitz family, his father, Bryan looked his son in the eyes, he knew the moment would come when his son would rise to usurp him, as it had been predicted by a travelling gypsy in his youth. He smiled at his son's confidence.
"I am now Jack, JACK MARSHALL GUITAR LEGEND!" the newly christened Jack shouted triumphantly, and with that, he turned his back on his former life, never again to return.
We here at North Shore Jazz are happy to have been given the opportunity to integrate his incalculable value and ability into our organization, and hope that you enjoy his playing as well.
We here at North Shore Jazz found Mr. Smoote the way we find all of our talent, fate. Yes, it was a Sunday at the Flying Squirrel and North Shore Jazz was entertaining the guests endlessly and with such tremendous skill that no one noticed the van pull up. What we do remember is having to pause the set as the sound of gunshots were heard from outside. A record scratch sounded, and collectively a gasp was echoed from both the patrons of the restaurant, and myself Antonio "White-and-Black-Keys" Bettini. Fighting off what could be no less than thirteen armed Yakuza assailants was the man we would later come to know as Mr. Dustin Smoote. With the grace of a gazelle and the ferocity of a tiger did Mr. Smoote dodge, disarm, and ultimately tie together all thirteen of his captors. Seeing a man of such power and ability, I turned to the band and said, "Gentlemen, if he can face this many opponents without difficulty, he can play Jazz." Quickly, I walked out of the Flying Squirrel to meet this man. I'll never forget the blood dripping from his face that was not his, his smile so charming, eyes like a thousand diamonds- it was clear that Jazz was in his blood.
"Join my organization" I said to him.
"Fuck you man" he said in response.
"We could use someone of your ability"
"I don't work for free, man"
"I'll pay you."
His demeanor changed.
"Sweet," he said to me, "I play the bass and also the piano."
"I know," I said, and with that I turned my back on him.
"Practice is at 6:30 on Tuesday."
I walked off into the sunset as Dustin stood over the bodies of his unconscious enemies, tied back to back with a giant cord he had produced from his utility belt, waiting for the authorities to award him the prize money for capturing one of the most powerful generals of the Tojo Clan, Masaru Sera.
I'll never forget the laughter I heard as the distance between the herculean beast and myself grew. The wind rustled in the boughs and a single sakura blossom drifted gently past me.
"In the setting of the sun, you shall see the sunset, but never in its setting shall you see it rise"
"Wandering in the woods will fulfill you, but when you get lost, we can't find you"
Michael Dangerbass and I have been acquainted for a number of years by virtue of our having trained under the same legendary Chattanooga Jazz Master - the highly esteemed and universally accredited Mr. Tom Cordell. A series of concerts in the highly vintage year of 2016 saw the jazz fusion of the good Mr. Dangerbass and myself take Chattanooga by storm, and it appeared that we were on the fast track to international celebrity jazz stardom.
Wrenched from the nest we were, however, when we were forced to watch our master fall to the hands of the nefarious Chattanooga jazz desperado Crenshaw Esquire. We saw the dust clouds rise on the horizon but before we could pack our jazz and jet, Esquire and his boys had us surrounded.
"Go boys, now is your only chance, I'll hold them off."
"But Master Tom!" we exclaimed, "You're the only one who can lead this great city of Chattanooga into the future of Jazz, we cant let you fight these goons alone!"
"Go boys! I've taught you all I know, take my jazz and my teachings, and establish a new era of Jazz for Chattanooga, one free from the tyrannical reign of Crenshaw Esquire and the Jazz Desperados. This is your only chance, Go!"
Michael and I grabbed our instruments and ran as fast as we could towards the hills. I turned to chance one last glimpse of the man who would carry a legacy far beyond the confines of this mortal earth, and was met with a sight so powerful that never in life shall I forget the scene.
Crenshaw Esquire and the Jazz Desperados surrounded Tom mounted atop twelve black stallions. In each hand did they wield an instrument of great and terrible jazz power. They blew and blew and the thunderous noise of their jazz staggered our master, his knees buckling under the power. Just as I was about to abandon my safety and rush to my masters aid, he produced his golden trumpet and with a sound so immense blew his most secret technique, "The Tom Cordell Effect".
A light began to emanate from the end of his bell and as it grew, a tangible wind began to circulate.
"Oh no boys, we can't sustain!" shouted Crenshaw Esquire to his men. He tried to turn away his stallion but it was too late, an explosion of incredible power engulfed Crenshaw, the Jazz Desperados, and Master Tom.
What was left was a barren crater on the backside of Signal Mountain. Michael and I turned and surveyed the scene, luckily having made it far enough to escape the blast radius. A plane left scorched and devoid of all life was all that remained where the venue, Master Tom, and Crenshaw Esquire had been. Silence settled upon the scene and through tear glistening eyes, Michael said to me, "Come, there is no jazz here now."
We parted ways at a crossroad backed by the setting sun,
"If ever we are to cross ways again in this life, I pray that it is somewhere untainted by evil jazz"
"I agree brother," and with that we clasped forearms and parted, both heading towards a future of unknown sounds and jazz uncertainty"
Until we rekindled.
I posted a craigslist ad needing to fill an emergency absence and it was he who answered.
In the golden era that was to come about following my reunion with Michael Dangerbass, a new challenge presented itself. Who would replace the loss of legendary Chattanooga Drummer Stephen Shaw? His self-imposed exile into the Chattanooga wilderness in pursuit of spiritual enlightenment had left a hole needing to be filled.
Little did I realize that in the time since we had last spoken jazz, Michael Dangerbass had scoured the four corners of the earth in search of the greatest talent he could find, hell-bent on continuing the work set into place by Master Tom Cordell. Ironically, that talent was none other than his childhood friend Cameron Perkins.
"Is he true?" I asked of Cameron when he proposed this colossal talent
"Yes sir, he too has trained under Master Tom. He is of the way."
"You fool!" I shouted, the backside of my palm stinging from the blow delivered to the face of Mr. Dangerbass which I delivered admittedly with over-enthusiasm, "Why would you keep another trained under Master Tom from me."
"Sir, he was my first suggestion and this is the first conversation we have had since our reunion."
Damn. He was right.
"Alright Dangerbass I apologize, but when my ears heard that there was another who walks the streets of this great city of Chattanooga trained under our late Master, my soul jumps and my inner Jazz is ignited and stoked with great ferocity. We must have him in our ranks so that we may craft the greatest jazz Chattnooga has ever experienced."
"It is so sir, thy will be done," and with that Michael Dangerbass reunified with Antonio
Bettini inducted Cameron Perkins into the halls of North Shore Jazz.
I stood cloaked by a curtain in Le Grande Chambre de Maison while Cameron practiced, so as to truly ascertain the height of his ability.
bobobo tsss tss tss rattattatatat tat tat tat ta ta titititi ping pong bang bang ka kaw ka kaw ka kaw skkit skkkit skkkit, skkkit skkkit skkkit, bada bada, bada bada bada, boom boom boom, pow pow, sishaw sishaw sishaw, clambramba ding bing.
Never had my ears heard such awe inspiring Jazz drums and I knew then that he was a true student of Master Tom. My soul took flight and I stood concealed behind that curtain in Le Grande Chambre de Maison, and I knew sans doubt that his ability would continue to allow us here at North Shore Jazz to continue our long tradition of being Chattanooga's most platinum Jazz Organization.
"Another one bites the dust"