Newsletter No 384, but who is counting’ Enough of the saxophone jokes, (*)
If there is a constant, it is that nothing stays the same for long in Colliwobble, mystic kingdom of the one eyed three toothed black and white Harridan that drives some many of the local lads to the sanctuary of the front bar.
From where, last Sunday, they could have heard some remarkable jazz. This last week or two has seen a resurgence in the tonsil department – first Katerina bounced in (of whom, more below), then last week Catherine McQuade, who runs a frock shop in her spare time, sang some cabaret style tunes. All class, although you might not have heard it under the cacophony of saxophones and guitars providing helpful accompaniment, but that is the essence of a jam session.
Probably helped along by bassists, Doug Haircut Kuhn, David no haircut at all Taylor and Ivan the Terrible back from the caucasian snow slopes. Class bass all afternoon makes for a very good jam session. Monsieur Sebastien was so moved by it all he produced his very best percussion for the day – and when he is good, he is very good.
Stop muckin about lads, this is serious: Ben, Ivan, Sam Izzo (drums!) the Curtis, Noel and the Captain get in the groove…
Dan from Canberra excelled on keys – his blues take on Angel Eyes a standout, and Gentleman John Curtis was a classy return, although he did fall for the Captain Chaos trick of playing a chart they neither of them knew…
And the Captain himself was in fine form, deftly handling the band changes all arvo whilst confusing anyone who looked like they knew what they were doing on the basis that the field need not be uniformly great but at least it should be level.
The Jams are looking up – catch one whilst they are hot!.
(*) If you don’t get the saxophone jokes it is because
(a) You are a saxophonist
(b) You can’t count
(c) You see nor reason why (b) should stop you from learning the saxophone
(d) There isn’t a saxophone joke here. Saxophones are no joking matter