Sunday, March 4, 2012

Frisell's Trio at the Blue Note, and a walk in the Village: 22.1.2012

Not an afro dizzy act
The music was mellow
The brushes, thrumming, and the bass
An upright plucky fellow.

Ron was the trio's anchor,
He played in many styles.
The fluid walking bass line --
Quintetessentially from Miles.

Bill played many subtle strains
Finding the right note.
Complex airs, soft refrains,
An aural anecdote.

Joey laid down a gentle groove
With his sticks and with his hand;
The mallets on the cymbals
The sound of this jazz band.

The gatemen attempted witty
Better early they said than late.
Though sitting there wasn't pretty
The night was worth the wait.

In this naked city,
A change is gonna come.
A tapped-on fret, a pull off then
Fingers on the drum.

Two Pomerazz martinis
To get into the mood
A platter of fruit and cheese
Was more than enough food.

The melody, chords and rhythm,
Turned towards the blues,
The players virtuoso
And Euterpe the muse.

Was the manchego kiwixotic?
Grape, apple, strawberry,
The baguette somewhat sweetish,
I hit a bleu note with the brie.

The other drink was mouthwash
Should have had it afterwards
When walking round the Village
And playing with no words.

The couple walked around the Square
With a Bleecker view of life;
They walked trying not to be
A Husband and a Wife.

A window held vibrations
With the good Lord's prayer.
A dobro in Umanov's,
Gaiety in the cold night air.

These boots are made for walking
Though they're not of UGGly hide.
These lines were meant for crossing
But thank you for the ride.