A perfect day in the perfect pub - #4

"...folded back shirt sleeves, as the sun streams down from the sky"

The fact that there is a slew of London's finest record stores within 2 minutes walk of this particular 'Moon Under Water', reinforces the reason why this is the best day in the best pub. The fish-finger sandwich, gorgeous. The second Guinness, finished. At the Cricket, it is still lunchtime. Outside, the Soho streets fizz with life. 

Leaving my paper and phone on the table. Nobody will steal my phone or my table. We just don't do that here. I climb the three stories to the roof terrace - empty. I'll come back up around 3:40 (tea-time at the cricket). 

Time to pop into Soul Jazz or one of the other record shops in Berwick Street, Murphy might still be around. Skim through the racks and boxes. Pick up a mint condition copy of Weekend's wonderful La Varieté. Put a deposit down on a pristine copy of 'Ascenseur pour l'echafaud' by Miles Davis. Then back in the pub before she glides through the door at 1:30.

My table has been tidied, a bottle of Tattinger is in one of the pubs rare ice buckets (made from a WW1 German helmet picked up at Ypres). My phone has been recharged, newspapers folded and a printed scorecard of the morning's play placed on a silver tray for my perusal.

The hubbub of Soho seeps in a couple of seconds before she does. Despite the fact that the pub is quite quiet (oh the bliss), a palpable silence accompanies her first step through the side door. She knows where I'll be, same table, same seat. 'The view from her room' by Weekend drifts from the jukebox in perfect time. She is wearing a summer dress, her hair short, two degrees south of ebony. She is beautiful, not least because she doesn't know or care whether she is or she isn't. 

She slides into 'her' seat. A double vodka and lemonade (ice, no slice) appears. 

They know her here.

It is 1:35pm.

The Butterfly House

On a brighter note...

Advanced Orders

Poll Results - Band you wish you had been in

1 - Modern Jazz Quartet
2 - The Smiths
3 - The Temptations
4 - The Clash
5 - The Wailers
6 - The Special AKA
7 - Alternative TV

The Wag Club - Jazz Rooms

Opposite The Blue Posts at the foot of Wardour Street. The Jazz Rooms at The Wag (Whiskey a Go-Go) every monday night, with Paul Murphy DJ'ing. We used to get the train up from the coast. Aided and abetted by Jack and Billy. We used to head into the heart of Soho, with one thing and one thing alone on our minds. Dancing!

Whether it was to Be Bop, Samba, Mambo, Swing, Lonnie Liston Smith, Art Blakey, John Coltrane or Milton Nascimento. The dancing was the thing! Suited and booted or hanging in Bretton, Hawaiian or Viyella shirts with big E Levi's and brogues. It was all about the dancing!

And when Murphy played the final tune we'd spin out of the door and stumble through the trash strewn streets back to Victoria, the milk train, Eastbourne and finally bed! Totally exhausted but totally free...

Jazz Funk & Soul Boys

Growing up on the South Coast in the early eighties the various youth tribes that fought for recognition were innumerable. Mods, Punks, Teds, Rockers, Soul Boys, Rockabilly's, Hep Catz, Jazzers, Betaniks, Skinheads, Suedeheads, Funketeers & even Heavy Metal. Most of the various groups would crossover at some stage.

The Soul Boys were always pretty cool with their fantastic wedge haircuts, kung fu shoes, slim belts and big baggy pegs. They also danced really well with some cool steps later borrowed by Be-Bop Boy, Mods and Katz alike.

The music (although sometimes inclined to border on ambling and tedious virtuosity) took the listener to new places; hard bop, samba, latin and of course Tha' Funk! Great days at Caister, London Zoo and even Eastbourne Pier.

Yowsa! Yowsa! Yowsa!

John Martyn RIP

A brilliant guitarist, singer, songwriter and innovator. Anybody who wrote 'Solid Air' would be missed, anyone who also wrote 'May you never', 'Bless the weather' and 'One world' will be sorely missed.

Solid Air

You've been taking your time
And you've been living on solid air
You've been walking the line
And You've been living on solid air
Don't know what's going wrong inside
And I can tell you that it's hard to hide when you're living on
Solid air.

You've been painting it blue
And you've been looking through solid air
You've been seeing it through
And you've been looking through solid air
Don't know what's going wrong in your mind,
And I can tell you don't like what you find,
When you're moving through
Solid air.

I know you, I love you
And I could be your friend
I could follow you, anywhere
Even through solid air.

You've been stoning it cold
You've been living on solid air
You've been finding that gold
You've been living on solid air
I don't know what's going on inside
I can tell you that it's hard to hide
When you're living on
Solid air, solid air.

You've been getting too deep
You've been living on solid air
You've been missing your sleep
And you've been moving through solid air
I don't know what's going on in your mind
But I know you don't like what you find
When you're moving through
Solid air, solid air.

I know you, I love you
I'll be your friend
I could follow you, anywhere
Even through solid air.

You've been walking your line
You've been walking on solid air
You've been taking your time
But you've been walking on solid air
Don't know what's going wrong inside
But I can tell you that it's hard to hide
When you're living on
Solid air, solid air.

You've been painting it blue,
You've been living on solid air
You've been seeing it through
And you've been living on solid air
I don't know what's going on in your mind
But I can tell you don't like what you find
When your living on
Solid air, solid air.

I know you, I love you
And I'll be your friend
I could follow you, anywhere
Even through solid air.

Ice blue solid air
Nice blue solid air

When "Jazz" met "Popular" music

When every week bought a new trend, every copy of NME a new band and every trip to London a slight refining of image the early 80's were a wonderful place to discover music. One of the brief eras was the rise of jazz tinged pop epitomised by the likes of Weekend, Everything but the Girl and the first Style Council album.

As clean as a crisp white button down shirt, as fresh as a summers day on Ipanema Beach and as cool as Les Bains Douches after dark, the gentle shimmering guitars gave colour to the day, the rolling samba rhythm's added a swagger to the roll of the waves and the melancholy sway of the saxophone heralded the coming of another glorious Soho night.

Those gentle explorations led to a deep and abiding love of Jazz that has been with me ever since. With spring here and summer just around the corner the urge is with me again - Blow man, blow!