3611 West Broadway, Kitsilano- Wednesday, July 27th, 2011
Jazz confuses me. But I find it enthralling.
The way it hooks you with a groovy sound, gets you moving with the rat-a-tat beats, and fools you into thinking you understand where it’s going. Then, like the smoothest of opiates, it swims through your blood and before you know it you find yourself in the middle of a crazy trip.
It guides you into a state of bewilderment that is so controlled you are tricked into thinking you’re still lucid. Then, suddenly everything think you thought you understood changes and swerves and just when you find yourself totally lost and on the brink of what seems like having lost all musical intelligence… it all comes together and takes you back home.
Enthralling. And confusing.
Much like the club itself.
Walking down the stairs, out of the Kitsilano sunshine, through the two sets of doors, into a dim, tightly packed room lit with red candlelight… was transporting. It was the kind of room that made you want to settle in with a bottle of wine and a stiff gin, get lost in the groove and look up through your martini into the eyes of a handsome stranger across the room…
There were, however, no strangers in this room. And it took forever to get a drink. Being the first one to arrive (weird for me) I shimmied into our table at the back, bumping elbows with a sweet man named Bill and his wife Marion, who were immediate friends. By the time my compatriots arrived, I knew that Bill & Marion had frequented the jazz scene back in the 60’s, had a son who played children’s music and that Marion had taught kindergarten to the 20-something year old bass player we had come to see. I had been randomly kissed by a kindly man who mistook me for someone else, and I was starting to believe my Pinot would never arrive.
Then, all at once, everything came back together. My friends arrived and settled in, my wine materialized (at which point I quickly ordered another just in case) and the music started.
The Daniel Reynolds Trio of Daniel Reynolds, Conrad Good & Adam Cormier were fantastic. Cohesive and talented, their two sets had a nice variety of upbeat melodies and fluid riffs, peppered with short commentary. The highlight for me was at the end of the first set, when they introduced Bunky Green’s “I’ll Miss You Little Girl” with a story of Daniel’s time studying in Montreal
Several martinis later, more wonderful music, and a tasty duck and goat cheese pizza (which I also feared would never come) I had settled into the groove. The lesson of the evening: Just like with the jazz, you had to chill out a bit first to appreciate it. The service- perhaps a bit erratic, was super friendly and sweet. The food might have been a bit dishevelled, but it was delicious. And the music was met by an appreciative, enthusiastic crowd.
My advice: Don’t go hungry, or hurried… and prepare to leave satisfied.
Your writing is as sonorous as the city's hippest rooms for music. I bet the man who kissed you was full of purpose, and not at all mistaken about it. If only he was as handsome and fetching as your two partners on that night.
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