You’ve changed.  

Really.  Since the last time I wrote a month ago, for sure. The world has certainly changed. We all are painfully aware of that. At the same time, new thoughts have entered your mind just since you started reading this blog a few seconds ago. All these thoughts unforeseen, unplanned.  Who knows what thought will arrive next?

You’ve Changed.

It is also the name of song that has become jazz standard, one that we played at the Lilypad on February 2.  I’ve included a YouTube link to it here. 
I hope you can hear how, as we begin, the music can hold a sense of “not knowing what is next.”  Rick DiMuzio started the tune and I had no idea where he was in the song structure. But when I touched the piano and heard a sound, I knew it would be OK to not know exactly where we were. Instead, trusting that everyone — and I mean everyone in whole the room — would mix the sounds we were making together in their ears and make sense of them in their own way. By about 5 bars in I could tell where we were, but didn’t really want to leave the delicious ambiguity until the start of the second 8 bars.  I had changed what I thought I was supposed to do.

You’ve Changed.

Perhaps by now, as the CDC Covid guidelines have shifted a bit, you are willing to be in a room with people who share your values about the power of listening to live improvised music together.  And maybe you are curious to see what we have been up to in this wonderful room called The Lilypad on the first Wednesday of every month at 6:30 PM.  

Our friend David Lee beautifully records and videotapes us every time we play. I’ve been releasing a video from each month’s gig on YouTube. (Here is a gentle reminder of something that I am certain you already know: as you listen, the sound will be much better for these videos if you listen through headphones or speakers.  The sound he captured is quite realistic.)

So this month, this coming week, Wednesday March 2, at 6:30 PM, we are playing again.  Always in a slightly different configuration.  This time again with Rick DiMuzio on tenor saxophone, and Max Ridley on upright bass, but instead of two hand percussionists, Dor Herskovits alone will take care of the drumming.
As a special treat for all of us, we will be joined by the wonderful Rebecca Sullivan singing two songs. And for the last song of the set, our friend Griffin Woodard, who checks for your vaccination status as you enter, will join us on his bass clarinet.

The room has a warm sound, a tuned grand piano, and you, yes you, multiply the electricity of our combined attention. By the end of the hour, as is our intention, and as if by magic, we all feel closer to each other, having experienced together the power of this skillful and loving sonic chemistry. 

We’ve changed.

with love,