Jazz on Saturday

Miles Davis, Blue in Green

The More I See You, The More I Want You

Somehow this feeling just grows and grows.

In all honesty, I don't know how I ever got along without you. So forgive me if I indulge myself in a little more Oscar Peterson playing another great jazz standard. It's written by Harry Warren, lyrics by Mack Gordon and written in 1945, a year after I was born. This is the kind of music I grew up listening to. So it did leave its imprint on me. But since it's my preparation for my blogaversary, you'll just have to indulge me or ignore me, but I'm having fun.

For Tengrain and Susan

I have a bottle of Bourbon and something nice to smoke. So I invite my two jazz loving friends, Tengrain and Susan, to spend a late Halloween evening with me listening to a great jazz vocalist play one of my favorite songs in Paris. What could be nicer. The embed has been disabled on this one some you will just have to click this link.

A Great Jazz Quartet in the Neighbor's Backyard

I've never been much of a party person. In the thirty or forty years I've been on antidepressants and other bipolar drugs, alcohol has been off my radar. And since I'm the only smoker in any group these days, I never really feel welcome or comfortable. Plus, I'm a wallflower. I try to find someone I know and sit next to them and then never move. I don't mingle. So, parties hold no charm for me anymore.

This party was different. These are neighbors I'm very fond of, and it was their ten year wedding anniversary. That would have made it worth an appearance, a card, a bouquet of flowers. But the real draw for me was the news that there would be a jazz band. It's always been my favorite music. The party was scheduled from 7:00 to midnight, but the jazz was from 7:00 to 10:00. They set up under the portico in front of the garage, which is fairly close to my bedroom window. The band started assembling and tuning up at 6:45. I was curious to see how Cyrus would do, since in the warm-up phase the bass was a bit loud and the drums were popping. But the moment they swung into It's Wonderful, I knew Cryus would be fine. It is, after all, the music I listen to when I write. It's the music of my entire life. It's my soundtrack.

They covered Charlie Parker, most beautifully with I'll Remember April and Cherokee. They played the Coltrane versions of Giant Steps, and Lush Life. They played Oliver Nelson's Stolen Moments, Miles Davis' So What. And they did some of my favorites by Monk--Straight no Chaser, and April in Paris. The drummer was a kid who looked about nineteen. The bass player was the only one who looked like an old jazz player, the keyboardist was another kid, and the sax player looked all of twenty. He played tenor and alto sax plus flute. There was not a moment when they missed the swing, the timing, the mood, the feeling of the songs they played. They were great. And the best thing of all is this was their first gig together. I have rarely heard jazz players play so tightly and with such swinging joy.

And the food was good, too.