A Game of Numbers

Last night, I went into a hole in the wall kind of bar in the West Village and watched a 67 year old man, Lew Tabackin, play his heart out. There were maybe 30 people there, each paying the price of a movie and popcorn to listen and get a free drink. The bass player, Boris Kozlov, was out of sight too.

Lew Tabackin has been doing this for decades. He has a sweet tone. His improvisational skills are as good as just about any in the business. He’s never had much of an audience. Even when he had a big band that drew rave reviews, the crowds just weren’t there. Some people with great talent just don’t stick with the public. I don’t understand why. They just don’t.

But watching someone play that well with that kind of intensity just made me grin from ear to ear. In a place that small, there is no need for amplification. It was like having a jazz trio play in my living room.

There is very little audience for jazz. As the joke goes, what’s the difference between a blues and jazz player? A bluesman plays three notes before 1000 people. A jazzman plays 1000 notes before three people. You can go nuts trying to understand why the public buys crappy simple music by people with very little talent. They just do.

In a game of small numbers, wonderfully talented people don’t even get a chance to show their talent before the audience they deserve. It’s a shame. But you can still find it in hole in the wall clubs. As Lew Tabackin said last night, “We’re not doing this for the bread. We’re doing this because we get to play what we like.” Hooray for that sentiment. I can only hope that when I’m 67, I have half the energy and intensity that he showed last night.