Jazz Fest - Day 2

There was no need to convince myself to get out and see the show I had planned for tonight - Tango Paradiso and Pink Martini. I've been anticipating this one for a month - ever since I first checked out Pink Martini online. I had planned for a while now to go see Tango Paradiso. Turns out they were opening for this band I'd never heard of (the aforementioned Pink Martini) so of course I went to this mystery band's website to check them out. Now I can't get enough of them.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I didn't end up going to any of my planned shows yesterday. After the lovely day of sun, gardening and sushi I was just too tired to check out Cat Empire. Turned out to be fortuitous as they weren't allowing in passholders. So I caught up on some much needed sleep and ended up doing some housey type stuff during the day today.

Tango Paradiso was good, but didn't keep me in their thrall. There were definite highlights though. They did a fabulous tango version of Ellington's Caravan which pleased me to bits. One of my dirty little jazz secrets is that I collect versions of Caravan. One of my favourites is by Medeski, Martin & Wood and the strangest is a tie between Chicago and The Carpenters. But I digress. They also premiered Doug Schmidt's "Four Season's North" which was lovely. Sadly Doug wasn't playing his accordion I once held hostage at my house for a year (and have some lovely photos of) but he was playing a very beautiful very old Bandonion (like a button accordion only squarer). I think I have that right - when he "introduced" it he said "think band-onion". And hey, I've finally found out how to pronounce Budge Schachte's last name (shaktee).




As for Pink Martini... how can you not love a band who's instrumentation includes a classical harp and spoons. Seriously, if I ever decided to run away and join a band - it would be a band exactly like Pink Martini. They play with the exhuberance that once made jazz illegal. That beautiful, primal joy that comes from somewhere deep and naughty. All the while singing in portuguese, japanese, french, spanish, croatian, and english. Just a tad bit talented, that group. My only complaint is with Coastal's habit of scheduling bands at The Centre when they ought to be in The Commodore where people can dance.



To end my evening my dear friend won over sleep again and we met up at O'Doul's for a bit of Tony Foster and note-comparing. She had gone to see ESQ at Ironworks. In her words "It was astonishingly beautiful. They just gelled...Wow... I can't wait for the fucking album." And trust me, this gal knows what she's talking about.