And Then, a Monster Walks Into the Room

And that monster's name is Raymond. I don't know his last name. Buy holy hell. He is the best damned piano player I have ever sung with. I have never heard so many ideas pour out of 10 fingers in my life. The chord voicings this monster came up with blew me away. Laughed myself silly with glee!

I read in the paper that a jazz jam was happening at a small music school on the south side of town. Wasn't hard to find and I got there a few minutes early. I met Gary, the owner, and we talked a little about my musical history. I told him that I felt my main weakness, as a singer and musician, was learning how to communicate with musicians, in their language. In short, I wanted help in leading my own combo. He seemed like a really nice guy - with the demeanor of a great teacher and real professional. He's a decent drummer and functional keyboard player. Turns out his main instrument is the saxophone (but I never got to hear him blow). We were joined by a trumpet player, bassist, flute player and another saxophonist, so Gary manned the trap set.. The flute and sax were played by women, too! We each took turns calling out tunes and picking the style (swing, Latin, etc.) It was clear, by the level of musicianship that this was a learning experience for most in the room. The majority of solos were high-school caliber.

That is, until the monster walked into the room. I think we had been at it for about an hour. We finished a tune and then I turned around and saw a bearded man at the piano. All he had to do was churn out 3 or 4 chords and I just knew I was in for a treat. It was like breathing to him. This guy has obviously been playing for the majority of his 50-odd years and has been a master for most of them. Once he joined in, the musicianship of everybody in the room elevated. Great solos from the flutist and bass player. It seemed like everybody had been holding back, until Raymond arrived. Or, maybe he just brought out the best in everybody. And, then I realized why I am not a great communicator with musicians. My piano player usually did it for me. With just one word or chord change or look in my eye, I knew what was going to happen. After not having sung with real professionals in quite a while, hearing the chord progressions and knowing when to jump in took some getting used to. I guess you can say that my "chops are a bit rusty". Happily, though, my voice is finally losing the rasp it has had for the past couple of years - probably because I now live in the New Mexicao desert and the mold is leaving my body. My breathing has improved, also. Nice to have full lung capacity again!

This jazz improv is twice a month and I hope, hope, hope that the MONSTER will be back!!!

Hoping to Avoid the Cultural Set-Up This Year