• Published 28th Dec 2011
  • 788 Views, 11 Comments

Sing Sing Sing (With a Swing)-The story of Benny Goodmane - Bandy

We all know what jazz is, but just who created it?

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Sing Sing Sing (With a Swing)-The story of Benny Goodmane

Breep! Breep! Breep!

The alarm sounded. A deep blue hoof reached out from a tangle of blankets and lazily slapped the clock, silencing it. The pony yawned. He began his morning ritual. He got out of bed, yawned, combed his mane, brushed his teeth, and checked his calendar. When he saw what day it was, the toothbrush dropped from his mouth, hitting the floor with a staccato "Clink".

This was no ordinary day for the young Benny Goodmane. Today was the day he presented his piece of music to the Canterlot symphony orchestra. Just the name implied majesty. The Canterlot symphony orchestra was easily the best performing band in all of Equestria. Their music was even loved by royalty, as the royal sisters could often be seen in attendance. For them to play HIS piece... It would be mind-blowing, a real dream come true! His music career would take off. He would be a star!

He hastily pulled on a collared shirt (he couldn't afford a suit) and headed for the door. He stopped quickly to look at himself in the mirror. His grey-streaked mane still had the vague appearance of bed-head, bits of it falling into his face. His deep, blue eyes permeated by flicks of grey glimmered with excitement.
He took a deep breath, centered himself, and walked out the door. He was halfway down the block when he realized he forgot his music. He slapped his face with his hoof, and ran back to his apartment to get it. He thought to himself, "You are gonna rock their socks off! They will love your music! You'll be fine!" still, slivers of doubt infected his thoughts. It was perfectly natural to feel this way. Nervousness is not going to kill you.

"Don't worry, Benny,” he thought. “They will love your music!"

"We hate your music," the conductor and owner of the Canterlot symphony orchestra said curtly, looking down on Benny from his table in his office. Next to him sat a member of the orchestra, presumably the lead player.

"Wait... You don't like it?" Benny squeaked. "But, it's great!"

The conductor laughed. "No, it's not. This concept of 'swing', it's simply preposterous." he spat the last word in Benny's face. "The rhythms are jerky, the sound is mediocre at best, and the feel is just... Unnatural."

"But that's the point! The music is supposed to get you on your hooves and dance!" Benny pleaded. "Look, just give it a shot. How about it?"

The conductor looked sternly down at Benny. "Mr. Goodmane, you have talent with instruments, but this music is... Just... Bad! I'm sorry, but this will never be played in MY concert house."

Benny slumped. He picked up his music, and left, the skip in his step now gone. He went back to his apartment. He got out his secondhand clarinet, and took a deep look at it. The thing badly needed repair. The bell was chipped, the buttons were dull and somewhat rusty, and the mouthpiece had begun to fall apart. He put his lips to it, and churned out a mellow tune. He couldn't show his face around the concert hall again. He would be a laughing stock of the entire orchestra! He tried to think of what to do next, but thought escaped him. He stared blankly at the clock. It wasn’t even noon. He put his head to his pillow and sighed. He tried to think of what to do, but thought was permeated by the jeers and taunts of his peers: Benny, the loser. Benny, the has-been. Benny the failure.