Good morning and happy tuesday hoddlers.
Somewhere in New York City on Saturday night, a guitarist became a father. But there was a problem: He was scheduled to play at the Village Vanguard at 8 p.m.
How could the leader of a quartet miss a gig? A quartet without a guitarist is a trio. And a band without its leader is a wayward ship.
Somewhere in New York City on Saturday night, a saxophonist receives a call. The lead guitarist of a quartet has just become a father, and his band is due to perform at 8 p.m. at the Village Vanguard and needs a fourth.
He picks up his saxophone and heads towards 7th Avenue.
Somewhere in New York City on Saturday night, your hoddler-in-chief is finishing supper with his friends before another visit to his favourite spot in New York City. He has been talking up this jazz club to his jam-music loving friends, who never have been to a venue like this before.
The guitarist knows he is up against time. Can he even make it? Does it matter? He’s just become a father.
Your hoddler-in-chief stands in the queue outside the Vanguard. The doors were supposed to open five minutes ago. A man, about 6-foot-3, apologetically walks into the building and descends the stairs.
The doors open ten minutes later.
A saxophonist stands alone on the stage, practicing. Your hoddler-in-chief has never seen this before, and there isn’t supposed to be a saxophonist in this quartet. Something isn’t adding up.
It’s 8 p.m. The show begins late. Four men walk up onto the stage - a pianist, a drummer, a bass player and a saxophonist. The pianist grabs the microphone and introduces the band.
Somewhere in New York City, a guitarist catches a cab from his apartment where his partner just gave birth. He’s a father. He’s the leader of a band, and he’s supposed to play two sets at the legendary Village Vanguard.
Inside the jazz club a saxophonist plays while staring at the music sheet in front of him. A bass player carries a nice little groove. A drummer plays a lively beat.
Someone opens the Vanguard’s red door. Clutching his guitar, a man hurries down the stairs. He approaches the stage. The crowd erupts in applause for the guitarist - for a man who’s just become a dad.
He joins the band.
Four becomes five.
In mid-beat, a drummer holds a guitarist’s hand. A tender embrace between friends and musicians. The music continues.
Somewhere in New York City on Saturday night, at approximately 8:30 p.m., a father plays guitar on a stage at the legendary Village Vanguard in New York City. He shares the stage with a saxophonist fill-in, who cedes the stage after the second song to relax in a booth against the wall.
His job is done.
Five becomes four.
For sixty minutes, a guitarist floats on stage. His head is in the clouds. His fingers hardly touch the fretboard. A bass player and pianist reach out their hands to him. A tender embrace.
He plays a song off his new album. The Magic Chord. One chord, played in many variations and in many shapes. Night descends. The awning outside the club illuminates red.
Somewhere in New York City on Saturday night, your hoddler-in-chief listened to something special. It was the soundtrack of a new father. For sixty minutes patrons and musicians celebrated life.
With the portrait of Thelonious Monk hanging to his left, an Israeli guitarist mellows the mood to a sort of lullaby, rocking his newborn to sleep.
Fitzie’s track of the day: Long Way From Home, by Gilad Hekselman
And now for your links:
Yaya Toure ‘impressing’ at Tottenham in youth team role
Alasdair Gold writes a review of Tottenham’s H Club
The BBC write a profile on Mike Dean’s 22-year career
Women’s Super League: Talking point’s from the weekend’s results