The stories about Sonny Rawlings are insane.

At the age of 29, when he was recognized as the greatest living tenor saxophone player,

he disappeared. For two whole years he played no gigs and recorded no music. Instead,

he practiced nearly every day alone on the Williamsburg Bridge. He did this after years

of heroin abuse and petty crime. He was a pickpocket. He was arrested once for armed

robbery and again for doing dope while on parole. And he did time at Rikers Island, not once,

twice. He took the cure at a government facility where the CIA conducted secret LSD experiments

on unsuspecting patients. And both before and after his now mythical leave of absence, Sonny Rawlings,

a true saxophone colossus made great music. Some of the greatest jazz music of all time. Unlike that

music I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset

loop from my Melotron called Skank's Impresus MK1. I played you that clip because I can't afford

the rights to the three bells by the Browns. And why would I play you that specific slice of

grand ol' hoppery cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on

August 25th, 1959. And that was the day that Sonny Rawlings grabbed a gun, hopped in a cab and

made a choice that would alter the course of his life forever. On this episode, the Williamsburg

bridge, Rikers Island, heroin, armed robbery and Sonny Rawlings. I'm Jake Brennan and this is

the end.

From Grand Street, he cut up Clinton, two blocks over to Delancey. His hand tight on the handle of the

case that held his mark six tenor sacks. The smell of rye drifted from a kosher deli, sour brine

from a pickle vendor on the corner. Taxi cabs conversed with their horns. Hammer's pounded out

a rhythm from a construction site. Always construction. But he wasn't listening. Something else had his

attention. He stopped by the newspaper stand and gazed at the hulking mass of steel in front of him.

...