Tag Archives: KCSM


Barbara Dane turned 87 in May, but her heart, her voice, and her energy are still very powerful.  She brought her many selves to San Mateo last Sunday for a set during Bay Area jazz radio station KCSM‘s JAZZ ON THE HILL.

Here are some of the highlights of that performance, where Barbara is supported by Clint Baker, trombone and guitar; Marc Caparone, cornet; Richard Hadlock, soprano saxophone; Tammy Hall, piano; India Cooke, violin (apologies to India for not including her in most visual shots; Dean Reilly, string bass; Bill Maginnis, drums.

If you are unfamiliar with Barbara — someone who looks deep into the darkness and comes out with beautiful music —here is a good place to begin.

But her music speaks much louder than any words.

Barbara’s own THANK YOU, KCSM!:

A new version of Ma Rainey’s YONDER COMES THE BLUES:

Memphis Minnie’s I’M SELLIN’ MY PORK CHOPS:

SUMMERTIME (featuring Richard Hadlock paying tribute to Sidney Bechet, his teacher):



As long as Barbara Dane and her friends are on the planet, the question posed by that last song is nothing we have to worry about.

Thanks to Alisa Clancy and all the heartfelt people at jazz radio KCSM for making this free event a glorious gift to the community — not only the people in their seats, but listeners all over the world. You can hear their music broadcast live right now by clicking on the link above. We are grateful they are here.

May your happiness increase! 


Veteran radio broadcaster and jazz lover Alisa Clancy teaches a jazz course called JAZZ FROM THE HILL at San Mateo Community College that ends with a music party — as a reward for the students, perhaps, so they now know how much they know!  Alisa is the Operations Director at KCSM (91.1 FM) and host of “A Morning Cup Of Jazz,” four hours of well-chosen jazz every weekday morning to soothe the nerves of people caught in traffic. 

This year (as in the past) the tireless Rae Ann Berry brought her camera.  I was far away when the party was in full swing, but now we can see and hear the delightful duets between Jeff Hamilton and Clint Baker.  (There are still more on YouTube — visit “SFRaeAnn” to lose yourself in a day’s worth of hot jazz.)

Most people know Jeff Hamilton as a wonderfully swinging drummer (there are two J.H.’s who play the drums: this one’s my favorite) but he’s also a splendid pianist.  He has two CDs out under his own name where he’s featured, beautifully, on that instrument — combining classical training with a great down-home rock.  He can rhapsodize or dig into the deep blues of people like Tut Soper and Cassino Simpson. 

And my audience (and Rae Ann’s) knows Clint as a polymorphous jazz multi-tasker, which is to say he plays many instruments very very well.  Here he emphasizes his cornet playing (with a splendidly evocative assortment of mutes), sits in on the drums, and plays an unusual and rare clarinet as well.  (It’s an Albert system one with an upturned bell — I believe it once belonged to West Coast legend Tom Sharpsteen.)  Clint does it all with great expertise and the kind of nonchalance that makes it seem easy.  Which it isn’t.  I thought of Jim Goodwin; I thought of Sidney Catlett; of the great New Orleans clarinet tradition. 

Here’s a medium-tempo MEMORIES OF YOU (with the rarely-heard verse) as Clint plays quietly effective, simple drums alongside him (on the simplest drum set one could imagine):

The well-worn SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, played as if it hadn’t gotten its paint rubbed off over the years:

ISLE OF CAPRI, complete with verse and a tango interlude.  Why should Wingy Manone have had all the fun?  I’d call the rideout chorus here “hot Chicago jazz,” even though the session took place in San Mateo, California:

A soulful reading of MY IDEAL:

ROSETTA, energetically:

And (to close things off on the right note) a rendition of SQUEEZE ME which made me think of its origins as THE BOY IN THE BOAT, a naughty anatomical ditty.

What I recall of the lyrics is something like this: “Oh, the boy, the boy in the boat.  He don’t wear no hat or no coat.  He don’t have no house.  He don’t have no shoes.  He don’t care nothing ’bout those weary blues.”  Full text and subtext gratefully accepted, even though this is a family blog. 

Jeff’s idiosyncratic mixture of Hines, Sullivan, and Hamilton is truly wonderful:

Thanks, Alisa, for throwing this little bash — how very gracious of you!