Deadbeatniks and live jazz
I don’t like writing obituaries—not just for the obvious reason that it’s generally unappealing to write about dead people all the time, but primarily because there are too many people out there who make an impact on our lives or culture, however large or small. Somebody important—distant, personal, or somewhere in between—is going to die every week, maybe even every day.
That said, I received the news of Doug Riley’s passing with profound regret. (That’s Hammond B3 master Doug Riley to you, mister. And he’s no slouch at the pianner either.) And wherefore regret? It’s quite simple: he played in Edmonton so often, but I never took the opportunity to see him. I’ve certainly heard him on CBC’s jazz programmes often enough to revere his acumen as one of our country’s premier keyboardists, but it’s not quite the same thing.
The experience of a live jazz concert differs from recorded music in a way that is, in my reckoning, quite different from how most other genres operate. Perhaps the most instructive testament to this, or at least, the one freshest in my memory, is the modern jazz legend I did see: guitarist Bill Frisell, who played with his trio in Calgary last Thursday in the delightful venue that is Quincy’s on Seventh.
