JIVE TALK

What do Cats and Jazz Have in Common? 10 Jive Words Explained.

Image: Chris Bair

Are you a cool cat? Or a groovy alligator? The Age of Jazz had a vast cultural influence on both American music and culture, but one of its most curious aspects was "jive talk," the quirky jargon it birthed.

Largely influenced by jazz singer Cab Calloway - who authored at least two dictionaries on jive talk, the jazz-inspired 1930s Harlem vernacular permeated our culture and gave us popular modern words such as "cool" or "hipster." Join us and dive into the strange world of jive talk with these 10 hip phrases that defined the scene.

Image: Billy Freeman

Back in the day, "dig it" wasn't just about enjoying something - it was about feeling it deep in your bones. One of the many expressions that originated in 1930s jazz circles and seamlessly integrated into mainstream American English, this phrase encapsulated the essence of jazz appreciation, where listeners are urged to immerse themselves fully into both music and scene.

Image: Michael Sum

In jazz speak, a "cat" wasn't just a furry friend - it was a word that could be used for anyone involved with the jazz scene, but typically reserved for stellar musicians adept at improvisation and who remained chill under pressure.

While the exact origin of the term is unknown, some believe it derived from the West African Wolof language word for singer, "katt." A simpler alternative would be that jazz musicians usually hung out until late at night, just like real cats.

Image: Brittani Burns

If something is groovy, it is more than just good - it is the epitome of cool. While today we primarily associate "groovy" with the 1960s hippie counterculture, its roots trace back to the jazz era of the 1920s. The term is thought to have emerged both from the "grooves" of vinyl records and the repetitive patterns of popular music of that time.

Image: Ben Eaton

Before the term was co-opted by mainstream culture, the term "hipster" was used to refer to jazz fans and musicians. The word was derived from the slang term "hep," meaning "up to date." Hipsters in the 1920s were avant-garde tastemakers, pushing boundaries with their style, music, and way of life.

The term was later associated with hip-hugging pants in the 1960s, and after that, it didn’t reappear until the 90s, used to characterize the educated bohemian youth living in gentrified neighborhoods.

Image: Kobe Subramaniam

"Scat" was a vocal improvisation technique popularized by jazz singers like Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald. It involved singing nonsense syllables in rhythm, showcasing the singer’s talent while adding a playful dimension to the music.

While the precise origin of the term remains uncertain, some speculate it was derived from a Louis Armstrong recording where he spontaneously sang a bunch of nonsense words that happened to be something like "scat-a-lee-dat."

Image: Gabriel Gurrola

In jazz lingo, having "chops" means having some serious musical skills. However, the term is far older than that, and it used to refer to the jaws (both of a man or an animal).

Eventually, it became a synonym for the power of a jazz trumpeter’s "embouchure"(meaning the way in which a brass player applies the mouth to the mouthpiece of its instrument), and from there, it quickly evolved into a more general term for a musician’s skill.

Image: Johnathan Macedo

"Cooking," as a positive term in reference to music, seamlessly transitioned into our general English vocabulary while retaining much of its original meaning. In the jazz era, when the music was "cooking," it meant that the band was sizzling with energy and intensity.

Even today, we continue to use it similarly: when something is "cooking," it signifies improvement, progress, or momentum.

Image: John Matychuk

Long before it became a ubiquitous term for any temporary job, a "gig" was a jazz musician's bread and butter.

Short for "engagement," the term originally referred to a live musical performance. Musicians often lived gig to gig, meaning that their livelihood depended on performing in order to afford their next meal.

Image: Viktor SOLOMONIK

For jazz musicians, a "jam session" wasn't just a casual get-together - it was more of a sacred ritual of musical communion. These gatherings often took place in community centers or speakeasies, after musicians finished their regular paying gigs.

Jam sessions provided a place for experimentation and artistic freedom, where musicians would not have to conform to an audience and could exchange new ideas, but also often attracted non-musician fans eager to witness their musical idols in all their splendor.

Image: Thom Holmes

Before it became one of the most popular slang words in the English language, "cool" originated within the jazz community of the 1940s. In the jazz lexicon, "cool" transcended its literal meaning as a temperature and instead embodied a state of mind.

Coolness was synonymous with maintaining composure, staying ahead of the curve, and emanating an effortless aura of sophistication and style, mirroring the relaxed vibe that jazz music sought to evoke.

Real meanings for unreal beings

What does "wendigo" really mean? 12 mythical creatures’ names explained

Monsters, ghosts, and strange beasts have haunted stories for a very long time, but their names can be just as mysterious as the creatures themselves. Some are surprisingly literal, while others have traveled across languages, religions, and continents before reaching English. From a "knocking spirit" to a goblin hiding in the periodic table, here’s what the names of 12 famous mythical creatures really mean.

The word zombie has traveled almost as dramatically as the creature itself. English acquired it through Caribbean forms such as Haitian Creole zonbi, with deeper roots in African languages. Merriam-Webster compares it with Kimbundu nzúmbe, meaning "ghost."

The traditional Haitian concept also differs significantly from Hollywood's hordes of contagious undead. Zombies became associated with people supernaturally deprived of autonomy and restored to a form of life. The modern flesh-eating version is largely a product of later popular culture, which transformed both the creature and the image English speakers associate with its name.

The word wendigo comes from a family of related Algonquian words, including Ojibwe wiindigoo and Cree wīhtikōw. The Ojibwe People’s Dictionary describes wiindigoo as a winter cannibal monster associated with terrifying, insatiable hunger.

But its literal origin is surprisingly uncertain. The mysterious-sounding word fuels the image of a night monster from past times.

A banshee's famous cry sounds frightening enough, but her Irish name is much less sinister. Banshee comes from bean sí: bean means "woman," while sí refers to the supernatural beings traditionally associated with Ireland's ancient mounds.

That makes the name something like "woman of the fairy mound." And contrary to many movie versions, a banshee traditionally doesn't scream someone to death. Her mournful keening warns that a death is approaching, making her more of a supernatural messenger than an attacker.

Sometimes a monster's name tells you exactly what you're getting. Werewolf comes from Old English werwulf, combining wer, meaning "man," with wulf, meaning "wolf." In other words, the fearsome name basically means "man-wolf."

The interesting part is that wer was once an ordinary word for a male person before disappearing from everyday English. Meanwhile, the alternative lycanthrope reaches almost the same destination through Greek: lykos means "wolf," and anthrōpos means "human being."

Today, finding your doppelgänger might mean spotting somebody who looks uncannily like you. The German word is wonderfully straightforward: doppel means "double," while Gänger means "goer." English speakers began using doppelgänger during the 19th century.

Originally, however, this wasn't merely a word for two strangers who could pass for siblings. A doppelgänger could be an eerie supernatural counterpart of a living person. Over time, the ghostly implications faded, leaving us with a convenient, and much less alarming, word for a look-alike.

If a ghost spends the night knocking things around, German already has the perfect name for it. Poltergeist combines a verb meaning "to knock" or "make a racket" with Geist, meaning "spirit." Literally, it's essentially a "knocking spirit."

That explains why poltergeists differ from the stereotypical silent apparition floating down a hallway. Their calling card is physical commotion: bangs, mysterious noises, and moving objects.

Long before the golem became a legendary creature, its name appeared in the Hebrew Bible. In Psalm 139, the Hebrew golem refers to something unformed or unfinished, an intriguing origin for a being traditionally fashioned from lifeless material.

Jewish folklore eventually transformed the idea into an artificial humanlike figure, commonly created from clay and animated through sacred knowledge.

Here's a surprisingly gentle name for a decidedly ungentle monster. Chimera comes ultimately from Greek chimaira, meaning "she-goat." Yet the mythological Chimera was no ordinary farm animal: ancient accounts combined parts of a lion, goat, and serpent into one fire-breathing beast.

The hero Bellerophon eventually defeated it while riding Pegasus. Its bizarre mixture of incompatible parts proved linguistically durable. A chimera later came to mean an impossible fantasy, while modern biology uses the same word for an organism containing genetically distinct populations of cells.

The Minotaur's name is practically a miniature plot summary. Greek Minōtauros combines the name Minos with tauros, meaning "bull." The famous monster is therefore, quite literally, the "bull of Minos."

According to Greek mythology, King Minos had the creature confined inside the Labyrinth designed by Daedalus on Crete. Theseus eventually killed the Minotaur and found his way back with Ariadne's help.

Break apart hippogriff, and half the creature immediately appears. Its first element ultimately comes from Greek hippos, meaning "horse," joined to griffin.

Italian poet Ludovico Ariosto featured the hippogriff in Orlando Furioso, first published in 1516. He imagined the flying animal as the impossible offspring of a mare and a griffin. Modern fantasy fans may know the creature from Harry Potter, but hippogriffs had already been around for roughly five centuries.

Kobolds were mischievous spirits in German folklore, appearing around homes or underground. Another remarkable oddity is the fact that one of these creatures managed to sneak onto the periodic table.

The element cobalt takes its name from kobold. German miners used the term "supernatural" for troublesome ores that failed to produce the metals they expected and could contain dangerous arsenic compounds. In the 18th century, Swedish chemist Georg Brandt established cobalt as a distinct element.

The Kraken came into English from Scandinavian tradition, where stories described an enormous sea creature lurking beneath northern waters. English records the word by the mid-18th century, when European writers were spreading accounts of the supposedly gigantic beast.

Its name contains a neat grammatical surprise. Scandinavian kraken is related to krake, with the final -n functioning as a definite article, essentially "the krake." Later encounters with real giant squid offered a tantalizing possible explanation for some old sea-monster stories.