Tag Archives: JAZ LIVES

SUNDAY NIGHTS AT 326 SPRING STREET (Part Six) — WE NEED SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO: SESSIONS AT THE EAR INN, featuring THE EarRegulars (2007 – the Future)

Here you can find five posts devoted to the truth that beauty never gets dusty.  And just below you can find the newest-historical-unaging samples from my (and perhaps your) Sunday-night worship services at 326 Spring Street, Soho, New York City.

From December 6, 2009, naughtiness from Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Harvey Tibbs, trombone; Matt Munisteri, guitar; Nicki Parrott, string bass:

Also from that night, a deep-blue version of Benny Carter’s BLUES IN MY HEART:

And, from November 29, 2009, with Danny Tobias, sitting in for Jon-Erik Kellso, along with Dan Block, reeds; Chris Flory, guitar; Jon Burr, string bass, saying hello to Dick and Larry:

And some spiritually-enhanced jam from that session of November 29, 2009: Jon-Erik Kellso, Gordon Au, trumpet; Dan Block, Attilio Troiano, reeds; Chris Flory, guitar; Jon Burr, string bass:

Appropriately, something for Lil and Louis: Jon-Erik Kellso, Danny Tobias, Gordon Au, Dan Block, Attilio Troiano, Chris Flory, Jon Burr:

Imagine the experience we will all have when — to quote Jabbo Smith — “times get better.”  Balance between unrealistic optimism and depthless gloom; wear your mask; keep the mental-spiritual jukebox going.  We’ll get there.

And keep listening!

May your happiness increase!

THEY’LL BRING BACK THE POWER TO NEW YORK: MARK LOPEMAN, JON-ERIK KELLSO, MATT MUNISTERI, ROB ADKINS AT THE EAR INN (326 Spring Street, Soho, New York)

I originally wrote this blog before Hurricane Sandy . . . and called it WHERE BEAUTY GOES ON SUNDAY.  This is still appropriate — but in view of New York being rainy and windy and with many of my friends being without electrical power, I thought I should change the title.  The EarRegulars can reset the cosmic balance — making the world EarRegular, as it were.

And (on a personal note) I write this from London, where my dear jazz friend JSA has offered shelter, good music, and solicitude — nothing new!

Last Sunday, October 21, 2012,  was dark, gray, and rainy.  The beautiful October we have been having — INDIAN SUMMER with or without Coleman Hawkins — isn’t permanent.

But the music inside The Ear Inn, created by The EarRegulars, was warming in every way.  The original co-leaders were there, beaming: Matt Munisteri, guitar; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet . . . and they were joined by Rob Adkins, string bass; Mark Lopeman, reeds.

Pay attention! — to quote the late Jake Hanna.

Here are two beauties from that evening.

A sinuous IF I HAD YOU:

A romping MILENBERG JOYS:

Thank you, dear Gentlemen, for making the warm weather stay around for a few hours more.

May your happiness increase.

BOBBY HACKETT, IMMORTAL

Seen up close, Bobby Hackett appeared to be one of us.  A diminutive man, neatly dressed, he spoke quietly, in a deep voice.  With Whitney Balliett, he chain-smoked, drank black coffee, and ate peanut-butter-and-bacon sandwiches.  Many other people we know have performed all or some combination of those acts.  I was close enough to him to exchange a few sentences; to have him borrow my Flair pen (this was 1972) to autograph my copy of COAST CONCERT. I wasn’t blinded by radiance; I sensed no otherworldly aura in the man.

But when Hackett began to play, it was clear that he existed on another realm, far beyond the ordinary.  And this lovely impression remains.  Consider his ethereal playing on this 1950 or 1951 recording — billed as the Ink Spots, it’s a feature for singer Bill Kenny:

I know that “immortal” is a cliche of advertising.  But it seems to me that someone who played — no, plays music as delicate and resonant as that, so precise yet so deep in feeling, has never died and will never leave us.  How could we thank Bobby Hackett sufficiently?

And thank you, Austin Casey, for inviting me into Hackett’s world once again by pointing me to a recording I had not heard.  Music of the spheres.