New year, old friends

Well, we ended up in Southampton:

We met the male bouncer equivalent of Ethel Merman who stopped me from entering a club, to which I responded by singing Broadway showtunes, mincing and camping it up while following an Elton John lookalike around, telling him he hadn't done any stuff worth a dick since the 1970s. As you do.

But last night I caught Roy Ayers in action at the Jazz Cafe. What was funny was that he entered the club from the front door, walked past me (we smiled, but didn't kiss), danced some moves behind a bunch of girls, who totally ignored him, so he scuttled off. It would appear that quite a few of the people in the audience didn't recognise him, and most of the revellers only seemed to know the words to just one of his songs - maybe thats the case with most concerts? I found that, with cramp in both feet, trying to dance resulted in my toppling over. However, he was brilliant, ably supported by great musicians including the saxophonist Ray Gaskins. He didn't do 'Poo-Poo-La-La', but he opened with 'We Live in Brooklyn Baby' and went on to perform 'Running Away' and 'Love Will Bring Us Back Together', amongst other soul-jazz classics (I refuse to use the term smooth jazz, as its bollocks and much of that tat sounds like elevator music for the clinically depressed).