I was glad I was there and happy that “Mostly Other People Do the Killing” was to be part of the CareFusion Jazz Festival New York. It wasn’t Basie or Garner but it had a lot to say in its own way. However, when the jibber-jabber stopped and the playing got serious you became aware that there were fine musicians on the stage, with excellent technique and individualistic expressions that at times swung like mad. Maybe it was about love or a fight, but they were having fun. With the quack-quacking of the saxophone and the lip-smacking of the trumpet, these guys were talking to each other. I haven’t the slightest idea of the meaning of this title, but as for the music itself, there was a sense of joy permeating the bandstand. “Mostly Other People Do the Killing” was the name of the band. A good time was being had by all, that evening at Zebulon.Īs for the band in Zebulon, the title of the group would scare older jazz fans who loved and identified with the familiarities of calling Ella!, Basie! Duke! Miles! Trane! etc. When the Basie Band (with Joe Williams), or Ella, or Erroll Garner were playing to packed houses, there was always the tinkling of glasses, the tapping of feet and quiet conversation, mostly about the music. The ambience (not the music) reminded me of “Storyville,” my jazz club in Boston (1950-1960). The church-like silence of the Manhattan jazz clubs was missing here, yet the music totally enveloped the room. A low hum of people conversing continued in the darkened but friendly atmosphere. With little fanfare, the music started, the talking quieted down, but didn’t stop. After climbing a few steps and entering a dimly lit room, I found, to my astonishment, over 100 young people 25-35 years of age (some older) talking, drinking, socializing and enjoying themselves no cover, no minimum, anticipating the appearance of a band. system, we found where we were going.Ī small sign reading “Zebulon,” over the doorway of 250 Wythe Ave., was the only indication that there was anything related to possible activity in the neighborhood. Nevertheless, with Andrew driving and through the use of the invaluable G.P.S. It appears to be totally deserted and on a cold winter night you could almost feel that Harry Lime (disguised as Orson Welles “The Third Man”) was lurking in a dark doorway of an abandoned warehouse. in, I believe, Williamsburg, that has the sinister feeling of an iron curtain country in the depths of the Cold War. Zebulon is a club situated in a particular section of Wythe Ave. It is like another world to me and I am fascinated with what I discover every time I go there. I might have crossed the bridge into Brooklyn two dozen times. I have been living in Manhattan since 1960 and visiting New York City since 1939. On a lowering February night, Jef Soubiran and his brother Joce invited me to their club in Brooklyn to hear one of the groups who will appear on the CareFusion New York Jazz Festival in June (17th, to be exact). We announced the schedule for the CareFusion New York Jazz Festival a few days ago and after 60 years of producing jazz events I can still get excited actually, more than usual. Natural Born Killers: (L-R) Peter Evans, Kevin Shea, Jon Iragagon and Moppa Elliott
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