Oh my, this is going to be embarrassing.
See, there is this small pub plus a few other smaller venues I have frequented regularly (since the middle 90s) to see a couple of friends or other acquainted bands and groups play live. You know, the kind venue for weekend gigs that attracts life-long friends and fans plus a bunch of walk-ins who just want to have a good time on a Friday or Saturday night. After a while, you get to know the regulars, both musicians and guests, you get a feeling for the local music scene and, most importantly, you can watch the genesis of new ideas and projects. Plus, you get to converse with lots of people who are into the same music as you are. From the various programs, I always chose the musicians and groups I knew or new constellations thereof
I don’t know how many times I mentioned “that German jazz pianist” that I listen to frequently and who is just awesome and, as the beer, wine and snaps would have it, I could never quite recall the name. I just have too much music and have gotten too old (and senile) to really have it all down pat at all times. One night, after (many!) years, a good friend, colleague, and a fabulous keyboard player in his own right, pricked up his ears when I said “something with T” and whipped out the program of the venue I was damn well sitting in and replied, “You don’t mean this guy, do you?” … pointing at the following week’s live gig. Read More