Kirk Lightsey - Pizza Express Jazz Club, Soho, London

We're off to see American pianist Kirk Lightsey at the Pizza Express Jazz Club in Soho:

One of the many things I love about jazz is the way that, even after 30+ years of interest and collecting CDs, you can discover an artist about whom you were previously unaware, and suddenly have a new, rich vein of music to explore.

Earlier this year I read a review of Lightsey's latest album  - "Live at Smalls Jazz Club" in Jazzwise magazine.  I hadn't (consciously) been aware of Lightsey before - though I later discovered that he had played on a fairly obscure album that I already owned:

The review was positive (and I have really enjoyed most of the live albums recorded at Smalls that I already have) so I added that album, and others by Lightsey, to my 'wish list'.  I soon acquired a couple and liked what I heard, so it really seemed like serendipity when I found out in June that he was playing a couple of nights in Soho, and a table was duly booked.

On the 16.12 to London - smiling was made difficult by a mouthful of toffee-cake:

Since the 16.12 gets us into town about an hour before the Club opens its doors we grabbed a taxi and then popped into Foyles to kill some time.

The summer before I came to Leicester (50 years ago), my best friend Pete and I visited Foyles which - back then - occupied its original building on Charing Cross Road, a few yards up from its current site.  In those days, books on the physical sciences had an entire room dedicated to them.  I remember picking up a couple at random, flicking through them and being completely baffled - so I looked forward to studying hard and learning a lot more...

Today I visited the much smaller science section and again picked up a book -  almost at random - on String Theory.  I was again completely baffled - plus ça change and all that...

Out, and a  5-minute walk to the Club:

This table will do very nicely, with good views of the piano:

and drums:

It's always a good sign when you can rest your foot on the edge of the stage:

We were happy bunnies:

Our drinks order - just before we noticed that the waiter had mis-heard Amanda's order and not brought her the alcohol-free beer she had asked for:

Any possible interaction with the boys in blue on our drive home from the station was averted by correcting this quickly.

Maestro arrives - whip thin, six feet plus and looking very well for his 86+ years:

He checks out the piano:

while bassist Steve Watts also checks out the sound:

Dinner - salade niçoise and lasagne:

Shortly after the advertised start time of 20.00 - a most acceptable change to recent practice:-

In days gone by, before a band took to the stage an in-house compere would make at least one, if not two, clear, authoritative announcements, explaining that what was on offer was "a concert, and not dinner with background music". As a result, the audience usually maintained a respectful silence while the acts were performing. Unfortunately, more recently this has been replaced by a disembodied voice over the PA, making announcements in rapid, heavily-accented and difficult-to-understand sentences about "respecting the club's rules about silence" – but done in such a throwaway manner that half the audience probably don't even hear it properly, let alone understand what it meant.  As a result, some members of the audience (particularly, but not exclusively, those sitting in close proximity to the bar) have felt free to chat away at ever increasing volumes, spoiling it for the real enthusiasts.

On this occasion though - a real, live compere took to the stage and requested quiet throughout the sets.  Of course, there may have been a degree of corporate self-intererest involved, as he went on to explain that the gig was being recorded (the Club has recently launched it's own recording label).  Whether this practice will extend to gigs not being recorded remains to be seen, but tonight it was a welcome change.

The band took to the stage:

Saxophonist Alex Hitchcock was phenomenal:

Steve Watts again:

And anchoring all of them - drummer Sangoma Everett (71):

After an hour of fantastic music, Sangoma (who did all the talking for the band) indicated that they would play "one more".  A genuine feeling of disappointment started to take hold - were they really going to go against club convention and only play one set?  No - they were having so much fun they wanted to fit in one more tune before the break, and would return in 20 minutes.

During the interval I realised that, like a number of his contemporaries, Lightsey was starting to show his age - he seemed frail, and Alex Hitchcock had clearly been charged with escorting him through the club to the bar, where I asked Lightsey to sign a couple of CDs.  This he willingly did, but apologised for his shaky writing, saying that it was "all he could squeeze out" these days:

The CD that started it all off for me:

and a 1987 album featuring trumpet great Freddie Hubbard:

Back at the piano, the years dropped away as if by magic, and Lightsey delivered a second set as good as, if not better than, the first.  The Club has a fairly relaxed attitude to photography and videography (as long as it's discreet), and I was able to get these mementoes with my little Sony:

All too soon it was over, and we headed out and up to Oxford Street.  With no taxis free we took the tube to St Pancras, where we caught the 23.35 home, arriving at around 01.45.

Bed at around 02.10, after which and before sleep, I engaged in some urgent online retail therapy to purchase my first CD by drummer Sangoma Everett: