Thanks for Dinner, Joe LaBarbera!

JAZZ AS THERAPY
I've been exhausted lately. It's been a busy week, but that's not it. It's just HOT. Hot hotty hot. Between global warming and Armageddon I'm thinking I've got about 9 more days before Earth melts. PLUS it's been longer than I can recall since I've heard live jazz in a small venue. So needless to say I have been super cranky.

Enter Brian Farrah, good friend and calming influence who suggested we go catch a jazz show tonight. I checked out good old www.lajazz.com and lo, and behold, Joe LaBarbera's Quintet was playing at Charlie O's. BINGO. I love hearing Joe play and Charlie O's is about as uptight as my living room, so my pessimism got dialed down a notch. Still feeling somewhat cranky, I threw on some jeans, flip flops and a tank top, skipped the makeup, and headed out, whining on the drive up the 101 about how I looked like death warmed over.

Brian and I arrived early at Charlie O's, and not wanting to sit at the bar drumming my fingers while the band set up, Brian and I sat in the car (aka convection oven) and chatted for a bit. We were making casual small talk when all of a sudden, in my rear view mirror, I caught a glimpse of a man walking in the back door of Charlie O's. Although I only got a quick look, the guy looked uncannily like Larry Fuller, a jazz pianist who has eluded me many times now. EUREKA. I couldn't believe it. I could finally finish that chapter of my book entitled: "Dear Larry Fuller: Please Lift the Restraining Order."

BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME
Alas. T'was not meant to be. When we finally went inside, it turned out to have been a doppelganger, sent to Charlie O's specifically to taunt me. However, the fates were still on my side because Bill Cunliffe was the featured pianist that night, and I happen to love hearing him play as well. Rounding out the quintet were Tom Warrington on bass, John Daversa on trumpet, and a player whose name sounded uncannily like "Ocean Jewel" on tenor and soprano saxophone. If anyone stumbles across this and knows who that reed guy really is, please let me know - he was quite good and I'd love to find out more.

Sitting in my usual seat sipping my usual cocktail, my crankiness started to subside as the band began their set with On Green Dolphin Street. They moved into Sixth Sense, a LaBarbera original composition with an intricate rhythmic structure that didn't isolate us non-musicians in the audience. It was a great piece of music and I was sad when it ended. After that was Evidence, a Thelonious Monk tune. I'll stop listing the set here because I had an epiphany during this number: Joe LaBarbera's quintet is EDGY. By that I mean in my brain, when I "see" the music being played, instead of being all curvy and smooth it's got corners and angles instead. And no, I didn't have mushrooms in my dinner. It's just kind of how I hear jazz. I realized during Evidence that this quintet definitely is multi-dimensional. All of these solid, very talented musicians created a musical texture that made us want to get wrapped up in it, but the edges kept us from getting too comfortable and zoning out.

PEOPLE ARE STRANGE (PRESENT COMPANY INCLUDED)
I have no idea if that made any sense or not, so it's a great place to interject that there was an "interesting" (crazy?) patron at the club who made me laugh. And I felt bad for laughing because maybe there was something, you know, wrong with him. I'll call him Buster. Here's was his deal:

• Buster walked into the club in the middle of a song and started talking super loudly to the bartender, Matt. Matt would answer him courteously, but quietly and briefly and he still didn't get it.
• As John Daversa soloed at one point, Buster gave a loud and lengthy commentary to no one in particular about "how that young cat on the trumpet is OK, but he's no Carl Sanders." Um, it's Colonel Sanders, my friend. Carl Saunders is a trumpet player.
• Buster ordered a daiquiri. A strawberry daiquiri, as Brian pointed out. Said order forced Matt the bartender to fire up the blender during Soul Eyes (which, as you might assume, is a sweet ballad not well-accented by the whirring of kitchen appliances).

THANKS FOR DINNER, JOE LABARBERA!

Despite Buster's comic relief, after hearing a set and a half I realized that I had been STARVING for live jazz and I felt as if I had a wonderful meal. It wasn't like dining at Bastide, with trendy patrons and fancy, rich fare, but rather like Bistro K, with no frills in the dining room but a menu filled with beautifully prepared cuisine with something on the menu for every taste. Exhausted, I had to call it a night, but not after getting to hear one of Bill Cunliffe's original pieces, Sweet Andy, a tribute to the late, great Andy Simpkins. Sigh.

I'm volunteering at the Central Avenue Jazz Festival this weekend so I'm sure I'll have something to say about the ladies in jazz featured there. As always, don't hesitate to contact me if you'd like to come along on one of these jazz journeys! Never a dull moment....

Links to last night's music....
http://www.drummerworld.com/drummers/Joe_LaBarbera.html
www.billcunliffe.com
www.tomwarrington.com
www.johndaversa.com
www.charlieos.com