A quick post, then, before I turn into a pumpkina.
We spent this evening at one of my favourite places in the world, Ronnie Scott’s. There is nothing as invigorating as live music, for me, and being present at live jazz is like opening up the bifold doors of my mind and letting the chained up dogs of my soul run free in the garden of imagination. Or something.
I went for Dave Grusin but soon realised that, being all of 81 years old, he had more or less tagged along with Lee Ritenour the guitarist of whom, I’m ashamed to say, I’d never heard before. So what I thought would be an evening of intimate wistful piano turned out to be an evening of funk. Not my normal genre bestie but I found myself getting on down with the best of them. Particularly spectacular on the kit was Ron Bruner Jr. Absolutely phenomenal, he was and, if I’m honest, he was the backbone of the show.
Ronnie Scott’s is also the only venue I’ve come across where there’s a queue for the men’s and not the ladies’ loo!