With the exception of the basketball team there isn’t much Jazz where I grew up – at least not that I know of… but in DC there are great pockets of what is apparently the only truly American art form. When I was in New Orleans earlier this year I caught the bug on Bourbon Street and it was nice to be reminded of how transformational a little good music can be.
Last night I went to HR57, a really great little club on 14th Street to hear Dr. Michael White and the Federal Jazz Commission in a benefit concert for the New Orleans Musicians' Relief Fund. It was superb.
Dr. White is from NOLA and plays a mean clarinet. The Federal Jazz Commission have been playing (until last Tuesday) every night for the last 26 years at Colonel Brooks’ Tavern. I'm sorry I missed them - for the last 26 years. And the kicker of it all was, they hadn’t ever played together before. They met at 6:00pm and started their first set at 7:30. I guess when you have jazz in your blood it all just combines into a beautiful groovy music gumbo.
We were sitting up close, next to the stage and closest to the drummer. He - Sonny McGown – is probably in his early 60’s with a white button down shirt, tie, braided leather belt, kakis, white athletic socks and the same loafer’s style that my high school boyfriend wore (and may still be wearing). If you saw him on the street you would perhaps think he was an accountant or maybe a high school science teacher, who knows, perhaps during the day he does dissect frogs, but at night… oh man can Mr. McGown play.
Also of considerable note was the man on the banjo - Donn Andre. He was a pretty groovy cat too and apparently has played at Carnegie Hall. You get down with your bad ole self man.
It was a riot to watch him and the rest of the band rock out. In my next life I want to come back as a jazz musician – preferably a drummer.
No comments:
Post a Comment