2005-09-29 - 6:15 p.m.
The other night, N. and I went to the Green Mill to see the Deep Blue Organ Trio. I saw the show listed on the Chicago Tribune website the night before and was intrigued by the name of the band and the venue too. I had no idea what either one was. It was almost midnight, but I thought maybe they�d have a message with more info if I called.
Someone picked up. I was bemused.
�Uh, it says the Deep Blue Organ Trio is playing tomorrow. Uh. What are they?�
�They�re a band. A trio. They have an organ.�
He hung up.
I did a web search on ��Green Mill� Chicago� and got numerous hits. It turns out that it�s an historic jazz bar within walking distance of us. Some sites had elaborate histories of the place, but suffice it to say that it�s almost a century old, Al Capone used to hang out there, later Frank Sinatra, and it has a cameo in �High Fidelity�.
I was sold. We went to dinner nearby at a place that had regional Mexican food (from the Yucatan � Yucatani?). It was quite good and not the cheesy-queasy typical of a lot of American-style Mexican food. Alas, they had no liquor license. The food was pretty spicy and a beer would have put out the fire nicely. Actually, no booze was probably a good thing, since we were headed to a bar and getting sauced beforehand would have just been reduplicative.
The neighborhood just north of us, where the Green Mill is, is called Uptown. It�s fascinating. It has absolutely magnificent architecture and housing stock, but a somewhat down-and-out � almost seedy � populace. I�m told that some time ago it was even seedier, a veritable Skid Row. There are a number of theaters and clubs as you get further up and it has sort of an entertainment district bustle there, but it�s pretty grim for a stretch.
There are apparently a number of mental health clinics in the area. It was funny to see the reactions of crazy folks or panhandlers to me in a wheelchair. Some were so gone that it didn�t seem to register on them. A bag lady at a bus stop just kept up her endless monologue, occasionally turning to me for affirmation. You can't take down cats with bike tire, yes indeed. (She did have a moment of profundity when, after she sang �Happy Birthday�, she noted that it was always someone�s birthday. Good point.)
A few people asked for change as I passed, but some wavered and looked unsure if they should bother. We paused at one corner so N. could turn me around to get over a rough curb cut with the big back wheels of my chair. A somewhat addled-looking guy was standing around nearby and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head about whether to do something to �help� or whether to not bother other people, like he�d presumably been warned ad nauseum. He left us alone.
There�s a pretty clear border between Uptown and my neighborhood of Buena Park. It�s not really a hard edge, but there are a few blocks on the north side of our area that don�t interface with the street much (set-back highrises, supermarket, parking lot) and then a relatively wide street. On one side of this street (Montrose) is a dry cleaner. On the other side is a check-cashing place. That sums up the difference between neighborhoods pretty well.
Anyway, when we got to the Green Mill, it was indeed awesome. The guy at the door warns you to stay quiet during the performance. It wasn�t crowded at all when we got there and filled up some, but not to the point of claustrophobia, over the course of the show. And there were some hipsters out, but the place didn�t at all seem to have reached the breaking point of retro-loving fetishization.
The Deep Blue Organ Trio was outstanding. I realize I don�t know a lot about jazz, but it�s easy to recognize when something is really good, no matter what the genre. They mostly played pieces they�d written and when they covered something standard (like �I Got Rhythm�), it was done with some style, far from straight-ahead. And I believe the term is that they �swung�. N. pointed out how expressive their faces were; they certainly weren�t just punching the clock.
I guess I didn�t really go to jazz shows when I was in Boston. But growing up in New York, there didn�t seem to be any small jazz clubs, at least not that I knew of. Jazz always seemed to involve some $40, 2-drink-minimum show by some �storied� and �legendary� musician at some club that was itself �storied� and �legendary�. The legendary Tommy Flanagan at the legendary Sweet Basil! The legendary Charlie Musselwhite at the legendary Village Vanguard!
I got the feeling that jazz had become an ossified form, still with a gallery of famous performers to be trotted out. Moving music, but no longer vital. Oh, I knew there were still young musicians learning to play it, but I figured this was like becoming a classical performer � essentially paying homage to departed composers (except Dead Black Males, instead of Dead White Males).
It was good to learn that there are still neighborhood jazz bars, that there are still young performers writing new music. Has there really been much innovation in my preferred genre of punk rock over the last few decades? But there are certainly still punk bands that kick ass. Beats of all kinds still go on. Who woulda thunk?
� 2005 Geoff Gladstone
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