Daily Archives: March 24, 2020

AN ANSWER TO ANXIETY, or RADIANCE IN THE GLOOM (Part One): JON-ERIK KELLSO, EVAN ARNTZEN, JOSH DUNN, SEAN CRONIN at CAFE BOHEMIA (March 12, 2020)

My parents, generous in all things, also gave lavishly of their own anxieties — “Be careful!” “That’s a very bad idea,” and more.  So on the evening of March 12, when I went into the half-deserted city that I’ve been visiting for decades, I heard the dull thrum of fear all around me.  The half-empty streets, commuter train, and subway all testified to prudence, caution, fear of the unknown.

But the music I and others (including Matt Rivera, one of the Disciples of Swing) heard that night — and that you will hear now — was a powerful countertruth.  “Yes, there is a new toxicity out there — an acronym with a number — that is ready to catch you unaware.  But while the music is playing, you are protected.  The creativity of these musicians is life-affirming, and vibrating to their sounds means that you are powerfully alive.”  I felt that from the first notes of I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME to the end of the second set.

Of course there is room for scientifically-based dissent, but those who need to write in, “You’re going to DIE!” might give voice to such feelings elsewhere.

The creators — the Doctors of Swing in whom I put my faith that night — were, at the start, Sean Cronin, string bass; Josh Dunn, guitar; Evan Arntzen, clarinet, tenor saxophone; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet.  Their music says “We will go on.”

Here are three beauties, defying the darkness.  The first is I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME, played at a lovely tempo thanks to Jon-Erik, who remembered my wish to have it sound like a love song, not a sprint:

Then, WILLIE THE WEEPER, a story about joyous self-medication as needed:

And a mellow MEMPHIS BLUES (where the people smile on  you all the while):

There will be more, and I don’t simply mean that I will post music from this night.  I envision a future, not too long from now, when live music will be experienced face-to-face.  And — lest I forget — this post is in honor of the very-much-alive Jim Wellen, whom I met this morning.

I’ve created this post for free.  The musicians didn’t receive extra money for entertaining  you.  How can you help them and express gratitude?  Simple.  Buy their CDs from their websites.  Help publicize their virtual house concerts — spread the news, share the joy — and toss something larger than a virtual zero into the virtual tip jar.  Musicians live in a gig economy, and we need their generous art more than we can say.  Let’s not miss the water because we ourselves have let the well run dry.

May your happiness increase!