Author: Adam Johnston

salve

~ Adam Johnston ~ 1 Comment

I don’t know if we’ll look back on the gig last night and know for sure it was objectively a wise decision. This was the night before the country completely shifted gears and went into all varied states of lockdown. Today, universities are seemingly universally switching to online instruction, large gatherings are canceled, and we’re being told to stay home. And for good reason. Even while we were playing professional basketball turned off the lights and went home. Ian noted after that it felt like the whole world collapsed while we played a 60 minute set. It’s as though everything deteriorated because we weren’t paying attention for a couple hours.

But while we were playing, it was all just right.

I’m not really sure what we’ll feel accountable for when all is said and done. Hopefully we’re just enough outside of the wave of the pandemic that our gathering wasn’t a point of concentrated viral spread. People kept their distance; there was no coughing; we sang a song to help everyone concentrate on washing their hands.

What I am sure about is that we would have played in that grand hall of the old train station even without anyone showing up. That’s what we started to picture, actually. And then people showed up and cheered and clapped (we love that, we’re not ashamed to admit) and were into the music and the focus on a collection of jazz standards, the most challenging part of our catalog. But most of all, we just got to play and people just got to listen, and for those 60 minutes we didn’t have to worry about the rest of the world. We just got to put the music out into space. It was a salve to the soul to be able to just push the keys and play the changes.

And when Caryn belted out “Feeling Good” and Tim played down that bass line I thought yes, yes that’s what feeling good is, and this is where I want to be. Ian kicked the drums into the second verse to drive it all home.

I start to wish that it could have been for more than that hour, that we could just suspend reality and stay in that hall and just keep playing and ignore the world of anxiousness and trouble. But I also know that everything is temporary, the good and the bad. I’m grateful we had that time and that reminder that, while there are things to endure and muddle through, we have these hubs of joy and art to tie it all together. I’m grateful I get to play in a band that gives me those moments and that perspective. It will carry me through until our next gig, whenever that may be.

sing to prevent disease

~ Adam Johnston ~ 1 Comment

We know there’s legitimate caution about coming out to public gatherings and shows while everyone is concerned about disease spread and public health. Certainly, some people may stay home more often and people should be mindful about how they’re interacting with one another. Social distancing and waving instead of hugging and hand-shaking are perfectly good ideas.

But, also, most especially, hand washing. The key ingredients include soap, water, and 20 seconds of scrubbing. But how do you keep track of the time you’re washing your hands? People suggest different songs to time your good hygiene, but here in the corporate offices of S&S we recommend the bridge of Sing, starting at about 1:20 on this track:

Just sing along to the “la la la la la, la la la la la la, la la la la la la la” line (you can’t say you don’t know the words!) three times at our tempo for plenty of washing thoroughness. Twice through will work if you’re singing it a little slower. We don’t care exactly how you do it, but we’re happy to help.

We’ll teach you the song at upcoming gigs as a public service, and we’ll listen to hear all of you putting this to good use in the restrooms. As the song goes, “Sing out loud, sing out strong.”

little and big

~ Adam Johnston ~ Leave a comment

We have gigs coming up in the coming days, all ages and free for everyone:

Cuppa: Saturday, March 7, 4-6p
This is the creatively conscious coffee/treat/food hangout with a lovely second-floor corner that has just the right space for game tables, couches, and a grand piano. Perfect little spot for an easy dinner or a snack before a bigger night out. We like trying out new stuff in this space, especially things that are good for the close quarters and ambience.

Jazz at the Station: Wednesday, March 11, 7-8p
This is our contribution to the monthly offering of jazz in a voluminous old train station. We love this place because you can hear the sounds of music resonate in the space. Sometimes the music sits in the rafters for a few moments before coming back to you; and maybe if you listen closely you’ll hear Joe McQueen’s sax still playing or footsteps of travelers from decades ago, maybe an old train whistle. It’s a nice place to just sit back and listen for an hour, no matter who’s playing.

Upcoming:
While March has a couple of free public shows, April has a string of private gigs; and then May will feature a combination of all kinds of stuff, public and private, early and late, free and not-so-free. The calendar is starting to fill up. We’ll keep you posted here and in our newsletter and on social media channels. As always, let us know if you have something in mind.

one-liner: crowdsourcing

~ Adam Johnston ~ 2 Comments

The band has started to have this long overdue discussion: How do we describe ourselves? It hasn’t been too critical to really get this exactly right, because usually we just play our music, a jazz standard you’d associate with Ella Fitzgerald to a bluesy swinging remake of Radiohead. But now that we’re going to invest $40 in some new business cards, we want to make sure we can have some kind of quick description of our music and our style. We have ideas, but I think we should crowdsource this a little. How would you describe us?

I started with what I’d put on our website: “a jazz quartet with jamming qualities and a jam band with jazz sensibilities.” But that’s maybe too esoteric, and I couldn’t honestly tell you what it means to “jam” and I’m pretty sure that isn’t what we’re doing all the time. Tim piped up with something about the range of styles, moving from jazz to funk to blues to rock as the mood strikes us, and that we can play something exuberantly joyful or painful and ironic with the same passion and volume. But then how do you fit that on the business card?

I’ve also thought of “ruining jazz traditions one remake at a time,” or “playing jazz in a way that even our family likes it.” Or sometimes I think it should just be “playing music the way we want because it’s fun.” But that might not entice someone to book us for a wedding.

So we’re open to ideas. We’ll keep working on it ourselves and we’ll try to squish it onto the little card with our webpage. If you give us something we can use, we’ll give you a free business card.

repertoire

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When we play tonight at Lighthouse (9:00 – Midnight, 21+, $5 cover), we’ll roll out half a dozen new songs. It’s a solid mix of good stuff, ranging from hard-hitting to laidback, jazz standards to flipped-upside-down remakes to a kind of driving grunge backed with a jazz organ.

But it isn’t the variety that is remarkable to me. It’s that we keep adding stuff, and we don’t seem to back away from things that are going to be difficult, either conceptually or technically. I was just going over a line of changes in one of our jazz standards that turns my fingers inside-out, it seems, and the vocals are no easier. It makes me wonder why we do this to ourselves.

I guess, probably, because it’s fun. And, also, I guess, because when we play at your wedding you probably don’t want us to just play 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover and Mad World.

When we played our first gigs, we had about 90 minutes worth of material if we stretched out intros and added a few interludes. Working up to two- and then three-hour sets was essential to play late into the night and to have a range of things we could turn to for any given moment. Now, I’m confident that we have five or six hours of music. Creating a set list is harder because we have to make decisions. That also means that we cycle stuff in and out, go back to old stuff to keep it fresh while at the same time learning the new things that we’re adding to the overstuffed binder. I panic a little when I see something I haven’t played in a few months; and then I’m impressed when we just pick it up again.

This is all to say that there will always be something new, maybe cycling through in place of your favorite. Just let us know and we’ll rotate it back in. Come join us, tonight or another time, and see how much the catalog has grown — and if I really learned that one impossible line of chord changes.