Joe Locke - Ronnie Scott's, London

We're off to Ronnie Scott's for the first time since June 2018.  

An unventful trip down on the 15.12 to St Pancras, and then a cab to Oxford Street, from where we walked down Dean Street and through Soho Square.

We were there to see American vibraphonist Joe Locke; I have around a dozen of his albums, but have never seen him live.

We arrived at around 16.45; the doors were due to open at 17.30, and there were two queues - one (to the left of the doors) for members and one (to the right of the doors) for 'ordinary' ticket holders (like us).  A standard membership currently costs £325 per annum, so we are unlikely to be queuing on the left any time soon...  On the extreme right of this photo I can be seen explaining to a young man that "yes, this is indeed the right queue, but since he has no ticket and I know the gig is sold out, he is unlikely to get in"...

While we waited we started chatting to the family group of three (Mum C, Dad D and son O) in front of us.  "We're up from Bournemouth" said C. "Oh", I replied, "we're down from Leicester" - and thus began one of the most bizarrely unlikely coincidences that I have ever experienced.  

D revealed that he originally came from Leicester, and had gone to a school, the playing fields of which lie at the end of our back garden.  "When did you leave?" asked Amanda.  "Around 1985", said D.  "Oh", I said,  "we moved in around 1989".  "But of course, you were in Leicester long before that", said Amanda.  "Yes", I agreed, "I arived at the university in 1973 and never quite got around to leaving".

"What did you read?" asked D. "Physics", I replied. Pause. "You don't?", pause, "happen to know a chap called PH, do you?" asked D.  "Err, yes", I replied, somewhat taken aback - "we graduated the same year - he was in my group".  D looked equally shocked.  "But that's not the most amazing thing", I continued, "S, the girl P married, was my girlfriend during our first two years at university...".

Subsequent discussions revealed that D had taught at the same school as S and, in that role, had taught one of S&P's sons.  We were all still reeling from the staggering odds against such a coincidence when the doors opened and we moved inside to find out from the female maitre d' to which table we had been assigned.

Based on many past experiences, at the time of booking I had requested a specific table we have had before but, given the large number of members in attendance, was not surprised that it had already been allocated,  We were, however, delighted to find that the table we HAD been assigned - on the opposite side of the room to that in which we normally sit - was actually better than the one we had requested, and will therefore become our de facto request in future.

Obligatory photos of each other:

and our vew of the stage:

We ordered our food and drinks and settled down to wait - at which point I noticed that Joe Locke had emerged from the Green Room and was surveying the room from just to the side of the stage, while talking to someone else.  I had come prepared with Joe's latest CD and a Sharpie, and approached them while I had a chance.  

I was greeted like a long-lost friend - "Heey maaan!", cried Joe, "thanks so much for coming out tonight, and for buying the CD.  This guy here is the bassist on the recording, so you gotta get his autograph as well" - and so bassist Lorin Cohen also kindly applied his John Hancock to the proffered disc.  There followed a brief conversation in which Joe expressed his preference for physical media over downloads, and I described the effort required to maintain an Excel spreadsheet of all my recordings ("Hard core!", opined Lorin).  

At that point, things got REALLY weird - I was on the point of thanking them and taking my leave when Joe looked over my shoulder and greeted the one and only Claire Martin (OBE) - one of the UK's top jazz vocalists, together with a gentleman I now believe was Craig Hume, a partner in Funkgurus, the Artist Management group with whom Claire is currently signed.  Claire proffered her hand and I shook it, while explaining that I was "just a fan", which she graciously dismissed as being unnecessarily humble.

Back to our table, whereupon our food duly arrived.  Sea bass for Amanda:

 and I bet you can't guess what mine was:

This was followed by raspberry crème brulée for Amanda, and my usual chocolate ice cream, after which we settled down and waited.  As the lights dimmed the compère took to the stage and (blessed relief, and how I wish the Pizza Express Jazz Club would follow suit) reminded the audience to not only ensure that all mobiles were switched to silent, but also to keep all chatter and associated noise to an absolute minimum when the band were playing.

The guys played two superb sets, with Joe (who admitted that he likes to talk - and talk) introducing each number and, for his own tunes, providing the story of how the tune came into being.  Towards the end of the first set, Joe introduced and brought on to the stage the (originally from London and now from NYC) alto saxophonist Will Vinson, who joined the band to play the standard Airegin (Nigeria backwards), originally composed by the now 94-year-old Sonny Rollins.  Will is pictured here during the interval, just as he was leaving.

All too soon the second set was over, and we gathered our belongings - grateful that I had 'seized the moment' earlier in the evening,  as long queues formed in the foyer for Joe to sign CDs.

Out onto Frith Street, and a stroll down to Shaftesbury Avenue, where we hailed a cab back to St Pancras and the 22.32 home, arriving in Leicester at a mercifully early (by our usual standards) 23.36.

Altogether a great night, and a welcome return to Ronnie's.