This week at the acoustic club: a fine attendance! Big smiles as I entered, casting eyes over the solid throng of players and watchers, seeing staff members retrieving emergency furniture from back rooms and then searching for a free slice of floor space to add my instrument to the impressive collection already set down.
And a new game; a fresh piece of banter from the compere, inviting individual members of the audience to tell the remainder about themselves, receiving in return a collective greeting. A finely woven piece of intermittent interluditude. This was the gravy to the night’s sausage: it gets the crowd geed up, endowing the stage with a warmth for the whole room to get high off.
A nice mix, methought, this evening. Two solo saxophonists, some poetry and ‘spontaneous interpretation via the medium dance’, a couple of duos and the long-standing 1:22 tradition of good vibes added to the stock of singer-songwriters comprising the acts’ bulk.
A bloody good reason must be found if one intends not to find oneself there next Tuesday.