Tuesday, October 3, 2023

Song(s) of the Day # 3,517 Sheila Jordan

 


What I Did on Sunday Afternoon. It was my birthday on Saturday. I made a point of really enjoying myself; just doing things that I like personally all day. Listening to nusic and reading. Walking round town and visiting places and people that I like.

But as you advance in years, (and I'm advancing, though not yet sixty), I find that one day is not enough for me in itself anymore. So this year, and from now on I'm gong to stretch my birthdays out for four or five days. 

I don't consider myself a particular egotistical or self-centered person but there's nothing wrong with simply doing stuff that you enjoy and which gives you pleasure for a while. So long as it doesn't impinge on any one else's pleasure. I know my John Stuart Mill, as well as the next man. Frankly I'd say his works should be a core reading text in every school, He might help explain a few things to the genuinely self-centred.

So yesterday, after saying hi to Beth in The Telegraph, I made my way to The Central. Newcastle has any number of pubs of repute and impeccable atmosphere. But The Central is the only pub that I know and really like that lies in its poor neighbour across the Tyne, Gateshead.


A visit to The Central is an experience in itself, for those that appreciate these kind of things. Things like history and atmosphere. A four story Nineteenth Century Grade 2 listed building which had been allowed to fall into disrepair for many decades and has only recently been renovated completely and restored to its former glory as a Public House and function and music venue. It's truly a great place. A pleasuredome in the best sense of the word. 

So I made my way across Newcastle's splendid and regal High Level Bridge wondering, as Decca Wilson the septuganerian, proud Geordie from my local, Rosies does, why Newcastle doesn't have a single UNESCO Heritage site given all it's outstanding historical buildings, bridges and monuments. You'd need to go to Durham Castle or Hadrian's Wall to find one round here. Frankly it's a scandalous state of affairs. Personally I'd start with Sr. James Park and keep adding them from there.

Anyway, this is a matter for higher minds than mine to ponder. I'm just happy that I live here. .I'm always happy when I'm in The Central anyhow. It's where we have our Book Club on the first Monday of every momth, I've been doing that for ten years now and have no plans of stopping.. 

Today though, I'm here for the Jazz, an event The Central have been putting on on the first Sunday of the month of late, with their resident band playing a specific album at the beginning of every month. It's resident band guiding a good sized and appreciative audience through a select album. So far I've enjoyed Miles, Wayne Shorter and Sonny Rollins albums. I've found it an education and an abstraction. A chance to catch up with friends and make new ones. A way to wind down into the next week of work.

As I make my way through the lobby I'm greeted by Mark Williams, a guitarist and one of Newcastle's finest players. He's just been dragged out of bed as a last minute replacement when the original dropped out. He seems half in slumber still frankly. Shaking the sleep from his bones.

It's an illustrative moment, giving a window into the life of a jobbing musician. I'm not sure whether Mark will get paid for filling in at such late notice. If so, probably a couple of notes at best, But it's just what these people do. The way they live. Mark probably would have come out for nothing. Their's is a calling that the rest of us can only wonder at and hopefully respect.

The record today is Sheila Jordan's 'Portrait of Sheila'. . It showcases a singer, Dulcie May Moreno, who I've been unaware of previously. From the off it's clear that she's highly conversant in her trade. She's a disarming, charming woman and fills the space between numbers brightly and easily. It's altogether exactly what you want from a Sunday afternoon spent in a bar, listening to great musicians playing great music.

I'm not personally familiar with either Sheila Jordan or  'Portrait of Sheila'. Jazz is like that. I'm immediately aware that this is my failing and a gap on my education that I need to catch up on. This is my first step to amend the errors of my ways.




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