“twas a dark and stormy night, meanwhile, somewhere in Kansas, a young boy was growing up…”
Neither he nor Lytton Strachey made it to our second assault on the Boogie Man Bar – but quite a few others did – seven drummers of which Alan Richards was the loudest, and we couldn’t comment on the other 6 due to hearing loss. Ah well – on to the saxophonists! The good Captain couldn’t get a lick in until later, but he had already played a session that morning. Laurie, sporting a rather elegant Covid haircut (or possibly not cut), Jeff bebopping away; bassists – Adam Fforde funking it up and a rather steadier Anton; guitarists, two very good ones, Ocho whose name I have misspelt, and the other one, whose name I would misspelt but I have forgotten it. And Jeremy on trumpet – neat stuff. David on congas, and the legless Marion enjoying the sound system – impressed us all. Gilbert, Kay, Debra and Buddy sang
The noise was, in the finest traditions of the Jazz Jammers, appalling, although ably tweaked by Ross The Boss. At the end of it all, he commented that jazz audiences are the worst – they only drink water, the cheapskates… but then brightened my day by commenting that the Jazz Jammers were excellent and drank a lot of booze… just so as you know…
The BMB looms as an occasional alternative venue – the second helping every bit as good as the first.
toodlepip!
Melbourne Jazz Jammers 