Jazzology
To the Quay! …on a lazy Sunday afternoon for the annual Jazz on the… Quay. Hosting the laid back Blackwater Band in the gravel pit at the back of Rectory Road probably wouldn’t attract the same ambience, dahhhling.
And ambience was in abundance for Sunday afternoon. Sometimes you just need the healing power of jazz to float over you, invite you to have a cheeky half shandy and say: YEAH - it’s rather special this estuary wilds lifestyle, isn’t it?
It gets a whole lot more special after TWO halves of shandy.
Chin chin.
Alcohol aside, this was a rather celebratory occasion for the Blackwater Band. The boys from that other estuary opening were blowing away for the twentieth time down by the muddy banks of the Colne.
Two decades of a mid-summer celebration of swing and jazz, all delivered under a backdrop of sunshine and smiles. The sun rays left it a little too close to call on Sunday afternoon, but we just about got there, Comrades.
And relax.
Which is the natural default position that jazz provides you with. ANGRY OF WIVENHOE ‘aint gonna go round in a rage, SHOUTING and pointing fingers at folk when jazz takes control Quayside and loosens you up.
Even the ambitious attempt for a car to make a Quayside passage, right in the middle of the makeshift football pitch / jazz appreciation listening post raised a few smiles, rather than eyebrows.
“There’s nowhere else quite like Wivenhoe”
…as one dignified chap of this parish whispered in my ear, just as I was attempting to record the climax of the set. There certainly isn’t, Sir. A double bass out of the back of van, a drum kit hanging on for dear life just up from the town hard and smiles, conversations and friendships.
They say that you can calculate your Jazz Age by multiplying the number of half shandies that are sipped during a single jazz rendition by the number of smiles you can clock in a five metre radius.
My Jazz Age is 99, not out.
Twenty more Jazz on the Quay celebrations would be nice.
Chin chin.
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