Archives for posts with tag: Terry Seabrook

Apparently the average age of a Honda Jazz driver is 60-something. As if I care. They’ve got a great reputation for reliability and good fuel consumption, and they look quite nice. If I could, I’d have a 1959 Vauxhall Victor de Luxe, but they’re probably not up to Jazz standard, these days. So – I would recommend a Jazz to anyone, and I did, to Wolf. He’s just passed his driving test. I drive him (in mine) to Shoreham to the Honda dealer, and Andy Honda welcomes him warmly. ‘This is my friend, Michael,’ says Wolf, and I try to look more heterosexual, even blokey. Jeremy Clarkson is on the TV, wearing a peaked cap and his legs inexplicably taped together.

We three blokes go for a test drive in a new Jazz. This new one has lots of features that I could never imagine (or concentrate on while Andy’s going through them). But the roof cover slides back so you’re all under glass, like a 50’s vision of a space-age car, which is fun. It doesn’t have that nice upswept-curved rear window that I like so much in my Jazz though (see fig.), but then I’m a sucker for an upswept curve.

At The Snowdrop, Terry Seabrook’s trio is cookin’ (as they say). Tonight’s guest is the excellent Sam Miles. Barely into his twenties, Sam’s at the Royal Academy of Music, and he’s a terrific sax player. Sometimes he plays with Ska Toons, and we’re really not worthy. From his usual unassuming mien, he’s an explosive force of nature in his solos.

And while I’m on the subject: Wolf’s a really good pianist, (he studied at the Guildhall), and sometimes he plays keyboards with Ska Toons too, and he blows us away with his playing. Another jazzer.

Jazz? I’d recommend it.

Monday evenings are jazz nights at the Snowdrop.

It’s a bit of a secret gem despite my best poster efforts. Terry Seabrook, the excellent jazz pianist, hosts it, with guest musicians each week. They’re top jazzers: tonight it’s Mark Bassey, trombone maestro, with Tristan Banks on drums. Terry’s on organ, his left hand a walking bassline. They swing hard from the start, punching out the tune of Cherokee, then chasing each other’s solos over the form. It’s riveting: a powerhouse trio, three top musicians, playing the Great American Songbook.

A young boy and his grandmother, absorbed, are at the next table, and a young woman on her partner’s lap cradles her pregnant belly. Mr Thompson joins us, quietly: John’s recording the gig on his Tascam and filming with his other hand. The one not holding his Harvey’s. Paul, Lewes’s famous IDM, comes in, attracted by the live sound; he dumps his gear and swings into his moves. And he’s a good dancer: it’s great to see jazz being danced to. He comes into his own on the band’s funky The Chicken, and the young couple smooch to Goodbye Pork Pie Hat.

The Snowdrop would be my local, if it wasn’t at the opposite end of town. But I don’t mind walking so far to see music of this quality. You jazzin’?