Tag Archives: John Lovett


I believe that the first version of this now-neglected classic song I heard was Jolson’s, then Billie’s . . . and it is even more pertinent now, as an antidote to the restless itch to be somewhere else, or to have a “bucket list” of places to visit.  In this time of sheltering-at-home, to me it seems the ideal soundtrack, even if your backyard is only imaginary or remembered.

From 2011:


Later that year, and closer to my backyard:


and 2016:

I even have a version of this song recorded in March 2020, but it hasn’t passed the Imperial Board of Censors just yet.  And since I am keenly aware of ironies, I know that for all but one of these performances celebrating the joys of one’s own place, I had to get on a plane to enjoy and record it.  Calling Steven Wright or perhaps Ralph Waldo Emerson — the latter of whom wrote “Traveling is a fool’s paradise. Our first journeys discover to us the indifference of places. At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can be intoxicated with beauty, and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.

So today, perhaps, I will put off the thrilling journey to the Post Office and, later, when adventure calls to me, I will take the cardboard boxes to the recycling area. Back in my own backyard for sure.  Possibly constrained, but reasonably safe from harm.

May your happiness increase!



2012 has been brimming over with wonderful music, but one of the real delights of my jazz life has been the opportunity to hear and meet and record Bob Barta’s Sunnyland Jazz Band.

Here’s what I wrote about them — and here is some more sweet evidence of their affectionate look at the world . . . chamber jazz of the highest order, recorded on October 18, 2012, at Bonnie Jean’s in Southold, New York.

The players?  Bob, banjo and vocal; John Lovett, tuba; John Klumpp, trumpet and vocal.

Here are a half-dozen more examples of what the SJB does so well.

PENNIES FROM HEAVEN (with that endearing, wise verse):

That aquatic MINNIE THE MERMAID (a wet dream?):

A very tender reading of I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS:

EGYPTIAN ELLA — with new lyrics:



The SJB website is here.  On it, you can purchase their superb CD, IN ONE ERA AND OUT THE OTHER (Jazz Alive JACD 1009)  — which also features Vince Giordano, Dan Levinson, Lew Green, Russ Whitman, Jim Fryer, Art Hovey, Jeff Barnhart, Jim Mazzy, Jeff Furman, Sal Ranniello, and Scott Black — on a variety of wonderful songs, including HOW COULD CUPID BE SO STUPID?, AN EV’NING IN CAROLINE, YOU’RE MY DISH . . . . it is a consistent pleasure.  Click here for one or several.

The Sunnyland Jazz Band will be appearing as part of MONDO VAUDE on Saturday, December 1, at the Vail-Leavitt Music Hall in Riverhead . . . no one under seventeen admitted!

May your happiness increase. 


The stories I hear of Hurricane (or “Storm”) are both depressing and frightening — although there are always counter-truths of generosity and sacrifice.

I thought — for those of you with power — that it would be helpful to offer some beauty, something serene in praise of love (the domestic monogamous kind) to lift your spirits.

Here is Bob Barta (banjo / vocal) singing a song he wrote for his wife, Sherrie, called I’M IN HEAVEN.  His colleagues at Bonnie Jean’s in Southhold are John Klumpp, trumpet, and John Lovett, tuba.

I recorded this on October 18, 2012, which seems a lifetime ago . . . but love is timeless, isn’t it?

I hope that this sweet music will take your minds away from downed trees and cold apartments . . . . wishing all JAZZ LIVES readers ease and serenity.

May your happiness increase.


There aren’t many bands that would inspire me to make a 160-mile automobile round trip after a day’s work, but I did it for the Sunnyland Jazz Band and I still feel immensely gratified.

I met banjoist / guitarist / singer / composer Bob Barta at Jeff (Barnhart) and Joel (Schiavone)’s House Party the week before, and had been delighted by him as a musician and as a gentle, witty, thoughtful person.  An added bonus: I also got to meet and talk with the remarkable Sherrie Barta.

When Bob told me about the Sunnyland ensemble — a trio of trumpet, banjo, and tuba — appearing every Thursday at Bonnie Jean’s on Main Road in Southold, I packed the car with provisions, told the imaginary staff I would be home late, and headed east . . . through old haunts.

It was a delightful musical evening, as you will hear.  Bob’s cohorts are trumpeter / singer John Klumpp and tubaist John Lovett, and they work together so beautifully.  They are sweet without being sticky, light without being insubstantial.  All I can say is that I have their music firmly ensconced in my mind and heart, days after I first heard it.  A singular and touching experience!

I have to point out that Bonnie Jean’s serves real food — I didn’t hear the microwave binging anywhere.  My homemade fried chicken, sauteed spinach, fingerling potatoes, etc., were first-rate.  Good coffee, too, and all at decent prices.  The desserts looked lovely but I was full.  Even if it isn’t Thursday night, I would stop there for the food — and for the lighthearted solicitude of the amiable Jenny and Theresa.  You can read the menu and get all excited here.  Or here if you prefer Facebook.  Worth the trip!

Some of my friends and JAZZ LIVES readers might see the instrumentation here — trumpet, banjo, and tuba, and quail.  Or perhaps blanch.  I understand.  Two of the instruments in this grouping have bad reputations.  But no instrument is inherently naughty . . . it’s just the uses it gets put to by people who are more concerned with volume and effects than with making beautiful sounds.  John Lovett (hiding behind his coils of tubing) creates a resonant deep cushiony sound out of his tuba — it reminds me of a very deep French horn, mobile and sweet.  And Bob is a peerless banjo player who doesn’t see his instrument as a kind of drum that happens to have strings in front of it.  John Klumpp needs no explanation, no rationales: he sounds like a cross between three players: Jabbo, Wilder, and himself.  Two of the three men in this band are known, in addition, to break into song.  They are sweetly persuasive singers and their swinging earnestness goes right to the heart.  Trust me on this.  And you have the videos to prove it.

Bob — who has a puckish sense of humor — called A CUP OF COFFEE, A SANDWICH AND YOU as the first song.  (At the end, he told us that it was a toss-up between that and DINAH.  Think about it):

On the same theme, AUNTIE SKINNER’S CHICKEN DINNERS, although both Sherrie and I were wondering if the original lyrics contain the word “panties”:

Then, for a change of pace.  Think Al Bowlly, not Jack Nicholson, as you hear MIDNIGHT, THE STARS AND YOU:

MOONLIGHT is a Con Conrad tune that was new to me:

Even for someone who finds himself on a plane as often as I do, BACK IN YOUR OWN BACKYARD resonates sweetly:

I think that HIAWATHA’S LULLABY had a brief moment of popularity in 1933, thanks to Adrian Rollini and others — but I never expected to hear it in 2012:

LAZY RIVER.  Oh, you dog river:

A truly rocking version of HERE COMES THE HOT TAMALE MAN even though Bonnie Jean’s is not your usual taqueria:

And the sweet question — dear and romantic — HOW COULD I BE BLUE?:

There will be two more sets from the SJB.  But you should go to Bonnie Jean’s and see for yourself.  I plan to . . .

May your happiness increase.