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| At the Blue Note in the West Village |
Still, when the show ended, I wanted to hear more. And so, on my way home when I heard some familiar jazz tunes streaming out onto the street from the Bar Next Door, and met the drummer, Rudy Royston, who was playing with the Jon Irabagon Trio that night, of course I had to stay for their next set. And was it an amazing set! Rudy had a solo that would make anyone want to become a drummer. What's more, the Bar Next Door is a lovely little restaurant/bar/jazz house; in my opinion, it's one of the best places in town to hear local jazz artists at their best in a cozy, intimate setting. I'd go so far as to say it's a bit of a hidden gem. After the set ended I had a chance to talk to a few of the musicians, and get a quick introductory bass lesson from the ever kind and exceptionally talented Yasushi Nakamura (check that off my to-do list!).
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| The Bar Next Door |
From here I traveled with my new friend, Klemens Marktl, who had just completed a few nights at Smalls with the Don Friedman Trio. Off we went to my a third (but who's counting?) and final jazz show of the night at Whynot Jazz Room where Klemens' friends were playing (and where, oddly enough, I had planned to meet a friend for coffee earlier that evening in their upstairs coffee shop, Whynot Coffee & Wine). When we arrived, the formal set was just wrapping up, and the trio opened up the show to musicians in the audience. I wholeheartedly recommend these types of jam sessions to anyone who likes jazz, because they show just how dynamic these players really are, and just how much fun they have with their craft. The musicians riffed and improvised, one playing off the other. The music was playful, whimsical, and even soulful. Several of the musicians hopped from one instrument to the next, and every song they played sounded as good or better than the last. There were smiles, laughs, nods, cheers, yelps, shouts, and claps the whole way through.
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| Whynot Jazz Room |
The air was buzzing when the bar finally closed and we stepped out onto the now quiet streets of the West Village. Another musician (a bassist) joined us while we chatted on the sidewalk; he told us about the amazing gig he had just come from. The group decided to go on to another bar, but I decided to go home, with a warm smile, full heart, and a little more jazz in my soul.
