The Mark McKenzie Quartet....
I went to hear them the other night, by myself. Without Colleen.
Yep, very hard. Very, very hard.
Here's Mark. I wish he was our neighbor. Oh, what it must be like to open your windows and hear sax riffs on weekend afternoons! Heaven.
This is Jon.
I have to credit Spoke; he's helped train my ear to hear that driving force of the drums. I get it. I love how Jon revs it up sometimes, too. But sorry Jon; I'm not sure I'd be quite as enthusiastic to have you next door. No offense.
And look at Raylan here, playing what is my second favorite instrument, following a sax. There is nothing like a deep, mysterious, sexy bass hiding in the background of any song.
There was a moment I wish I could have captured of Raylan, leaning on his bass, waiting; waiting patiently as musicians do, between sets. I know from Colleen's recollections of bands... It was classic and so film worthy yet I was the only one to see it. An advantage to going alone.
And here's the talented Lakewood George, as I think of him. Piano man. Guitar man. What an evening one could have around his piano; some vino, some cheese, baguettes, and a very long list of requests.
So, there's the quartet. Four big-hearted guys who always went out of their way to stop by and talk a little jazz with Mom. They've no idea how much the gestures meant to her.
I haven't been able to listen to much jazz since my parents died. It's such happy music...
The group is helping me get there, even though they don't really play a lot of standards. Well, not by my standards...
Still, I could listen to their jazzy renditions of songs like Bye Bye Blackbird, all night long.
Mark McKenzie Quartet
at D'Vine Wine, Firewheel
I'll see you there...