Django "Bird" Davis, saxophonist and pianist with anyone who'll have him this week, slid into the One Two door the other day, took off his shades, and then made it into the office. "Take off that beret," taunted an editorial underling, "and empty yer pockets into it!" After a quick negotiation involving a "horse" and some "pints", Davis did the deed. Out came the office camera, and Django's spontaneous, free-form comments on his assembled junk split forth. "It's OK man, I'll just riff awhile," suggested the enigmatic jazzer. Frankly, we were glad to see the back of him.

Spare hand — "Dual purpose, as it turns out. I take it out at idle moments, like when I'm reading Jazz Journal, and you can bend the fingers to make weird chord shapes, then try to make your own hand do it. And then it's really handy, ha ha, for getting to those difficult fingerings when your other two hands are used up. A boon for jazzers, they told me to say."

MU card — "Oh well this is indispensable really, ain't it? I tried to use it the other week to get 10% off me holiday in Skegness with the boys, gigging every night you know, but the travel agent said it was only valid with proof from three independent referees that I hadn't touched or even thought about a synthesiser in my entire life."

Tuning fork — "Nah, stupid, a knife wouldn't work, cos you need two elements that sort of vibrate in the air kind of against each other well against the air between the two sort of vibrating pieces of metal so that a note is kind of formed in that way."

Spare reeds — "Like the spare hand only different. I s'pose they must have at one time been made out of like real reeds, like you find down the river. S'funny to think of like ancient people with big gold saxophones and little bits of grass stuck down them, isn't it?"

Stick-on goatee — "Oh don't show them... you bastards. I hate your magazine anyway, you're always saying that jazz is, what was it, only for people who make lots of money selling synthesisers and electric guitars, wasn't it? It's not mine and I don't know how it got into my... a friend gave it to me to look after, that's it."

Shades — "That's cheating, I just took them off. I wear them cos, er, I've got this sort of problem with my eyes. If they get too much brightness then I start thinking of major chords, C major, G major, that sort of thing. It's a terrible affliction and no kidding."

Spare duffle-coat peg — "Like the spare reeds only different. I've had this since I went to the tech to study machine handling. Duffle coats are bloody good for wearing in the rain cos they give off this really unpleasant pong so they're good for being on your own which I like most of the time."

Liquorice papers — "They taste much better than the white sort which I think are made with saturated fats or something. The liquorice ones are more sort of natural, none of the goodness is taken out, so they're better for you. More healthy, you know?"

Ronnie Scott's ticket — "I kept it from when I went to see Him play there years and years ago, it's got like sentimental value. No I've never played there, but it's still one of my ambitions. The nearest I've got so far is busking in that park in the middle of Soho Square."

Django Reinhardt's finger — "Don't bloody laugh, it is. You journalists, all you're interested in is the latest talentless pop star. I got this from a gipsy friend who's got this caravan park near Paris, really old geezer, Jacques I think his name is. I spray it every fortnight with this spray stuff which keeps it reasonably intact. I treasure it."

New Orleans cafe receipt — "I had a cup of coffee when I went there with the bloke who invented jazz. Yeah, he invented it. He looked a bit young, but he definitely was the bloke because he knew all that flattened thirteenth stuff by heart and he could recite the exact order of events from the birth of jazz to the first Roland Kirk LP. I paid for his meal and hotel and cup of coffee for the story, and I kept the receipt as a souvenir. Lovely, genuine bloke."

Kerouac paperback — "It's 'On The Road', a real influence on me and I carry it everywhere cos it's like a bible to me and I often need to dip into it, keeps me sane. It's very handy for reading a chapter or two during the drum solo."

Cassette — "It's a bootleg of John Coltrane in New York blowing with his phone giving out the dialling tone — the bloke who sold it to me down Camden Lock said it was actually the birth of his sort of 'drone' period, you know, all that far-out stuff which I think is like his greatest like contribution to the history of the world, well of jazz. The man was a giant. It's my most valued possession — I paid enough for it!"