Sonoma's Jazz Lodge

This past Friday I got to play a duo gig with my good friend Stephanie Ozer at the Lodge in Sonoma. I drove up to her house, since she lives in the area, to review the tunes. We ended up having such a wonderful time chatting before, during and after the gig that that was almost the most memorable part. She told me some great stories, which I probably shouldn't share, about her tour with Brazilian jazz legend Leny Andrade, with whom she also recorded her album O Comeco: New Beginnings in Brazilian Jazz. Not that they were bad stories, just lessons learned from touring.

I haven't played with Stephanie for a while, but one thing I enjoy about playing with different musicians is how the repertoire reflects their tastes and experience. Stephanie has a wonderful light touch with Brazilian jazz, so of course we did a couple of tunes from her record: Rio, Ave Rara and Velho Piano (well, we only practiced that one but didn't do it live. I do want to learn it, though).

She also hipped me to a nice Indigo Girls original called History of Us. The chorus has a lyric that ever so slightly sets off my goop-o-meter:

"So we must love
While these moments are still called today
Take part in the pain of this passion play
Stretching our youth as we must
Until we are ashes to dust
Until time makes history of us"

But I forgive it that because of the gorgeous imagery of the last verse:

"There are mountains in Switzerland
Brilliant, cold, as they stand
From my hotel room, watching the half moon
Bleeding its light like a lamb
And the town is illumined
Its tiny figures are fast asleep
And it dawns on me, the time is upon me
To return to the flock I must keep."

Well, to be honest I also have trouble with "bleeding its light like a lamb" (or is it lamp? But then it wouldn't bleed), but there is Jesus imagery throughout the song. I think it's an example of something where the original performance is so emotionally present that it overcomes limitations of the lyric. I mean, my lyrics have millions of limitations. Sometimes you stick with what you've got and then you sing the heck out of it. But it also reminds me of college, because Indigo Girls were big back then, and they have a lot of resonance with brooding female intellectuals.

We also had fun doing Chucho/Mambo Influenciado, and after singing the tricky horn line in Chucho in unison with Stephanie on piano, she soloed and then I invented a little coro, rather kitschy, that went "En Sonoma, paramos camino, En Sonoma, gozamos el vino."

I saw some good friends at the gig, and only had one yucky incident when a red-faced guy approached Stephanie and me during our last break. "How much are your CDs?" he asked, flipping through a wad of cash. "They're $15 each," we said. "Jeez. $15? How about 10? I'll take 10." "You want 10 CDs?" "No, I'll give you $10." "Sorry, they're $15." He said something rude and turned away. "He's drunk," I said to Stephanie, but after that I kept my eye on him, hoping he wasn't going to stick around to the end of the gig. Close to the last song, he got up and waved to me before leaving. Sheesh! I have no patience for wine-soaked hagglers who live in the lap of luxury, man!