Meanwhile, somewhere in Kansas, a young boy was growing up. Which did not, to any material degree, affect last week’s B Team Jam Session at all. (see Footnote)
As all those who fancied themselves indispensable to the entertainment of the great unwashed laboured up the highway to far-off Halls Gap, the rump presented themselves to the blistering judgements of the Gold Street Boudoir di Bossa . An afternoon of fine ballad mangling ensued. Obviously a quieter affair, with the likes of Mssrs Chaos, Haircut, the Divine Miss S and the Gentleman hisself all up the Gap.
Actually, some of the music was rather good – and a couple of rare firsts: the Don played some sophisticated piano as usual, but actually cracked it for a smile. Never seen that before. Two new singers got up, Erin and Isabel, and neither sang Autumn Leaves or Summertime. Col T (retd) forgot his own deplorably high standards and let it swing for a while; Keef, for the first time in ages, arrived with sax, clarinet and accoutrements. Jason, who could not be persuaded to play at all last week, rightly judging that six saxophones was enough, this week got the time and space to impress. Geoff took over piano duties and knocked out a coupla toons, Ivan swung the monster bass, Pete walked a few bass lines, then Omar fresh from Friday night at the Royal Standard, drove it all along for a while, David returned with sax instead of floot and did enough to suggest he knows what he is doing, but fitted in nevertheless; and the drum department of Bill and Michael rattled amiably along all arvo. Tony actually played quietly, and trotted out some great solos.
The Royal Standard, St Pete’s Fete, Halls Gap, and the Jam Session du Jour: It has been a busy week in music, and this was a fine session to cap it all off – we staggered out about 8.00pm, which was about the same time that the Hall’s Gap Great Unwashed Amusers would have been getting back to the big smoke.
Bum notes all over this great and garden state. Let’s do it again next week, shall we?
“It was a dark and stormy night” is an often-mocked and parodied phrase written by English novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton in the opening sentence of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford. The additional reference to Kansas, possibly related to The Wizard of Oz, may have won the inaugural worst opening line to a novel competition, held Godknowswhen, but at least ages ago. See http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/
The Jammers Newsletter must be one of very few possible places, where the inclusion of the opening line could actually raise the literary tone.