I had so much fun making this video (once I wrestled iMovie to the ground and made it scream “Uncle!”) about my recent excursion to New York City to be at the MAC Awards (Manhattan Association of Cabaret and Clubs). My friends Shaynee Rainbolt and Terese Genecco were both nominated for awards, so I HAD to be there. Mario Cantone and Leslie Uggams and The Bobs also make an appearance in this video.

So… watch it! I made it just for you!

New gigs on the horizon, including a monthly gig at Savona’s Trattoria in Kingston, AND… I’ll be at the Rrazz Room in San Francisco on Monday, June 14! Yep, I’m flying on back to California to share the stage with Linda Kosut in “When the Natives Get Restless” – our name for this jazz cabaret about …. well, you’ll have to come and find out!

Upper Fourth is closed.

For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, Upper Fourth is, or rather, was a beautiful, classy bar in Santa Rosa that offered adults the perfect place to meet, have a drink, talk quietly, laugh loudly and listen to some live jazz every now and then. It was sorely needed, but obviously not well enough appreciated, in a town filled with either seedy bars or loud dance clubs frequented by twenty-somethings.

But my sadness around its closing is personal. Upper Fourth and its owner Molly Gallaher changed my life by offering me the opportunity to make music there every second Friday of the month from 5:00 pm to 8:00 pm. To have a steady gig in a sweet environment where people actually listened was a huge gift to me and my musical life. It made me a better singer, a better musician and a better performer. And when I left California to move to New York, one of the biggest losses for me was letting go of that monthly gig.

Just the other day I was bragging about Upper Fourth to my friend Paul who was bemoaning the fact that Kingston doesn’t have a place where one can go, have a drink in an inviting, quiet environment and connect with other people in the community. I told him that I knew of a place like that in Santa Rosa, CA: Upper Fourth.

From the comments on the BiteClub blog, people are saying ugly things about Molly and Upper Fourth. I have no idea if any of them are true and I don’t care. My experience of Upper Fourth and Molly was only positive. I watched her work hard to make Upper Fourth a great bar, not just another bar. She rarely took a day off. And all of her employees were kind, helpful and considerate.

And she supported live music. She understood how booking a live jazz group in the early evening hours would help business, bring in more people and create something special for her patrons. Late on Fridays and Saturdays she booked a DJ and brought in the younger crowd who would stay there until closing. She was smart to do so.

Thank you, Molly. Thank you for Upper Fourth. I’ll never forget my time there, and I’ll always be eternally grateful to you for giving me my first steady gig and supporting live music.

It’s the simple things that feel so empowering to me now.

Like knowing that if there’s a subway entrance for the 1 train going downtown on one side of the street, chances are the train going uptown is just across the street. To a New Yorker, this is a no-brainer. To me, it’s a celebration. Here I am in this foreign land where the means of movement and expression are strange and mysterious, and yet I’m starting to crack the code.

On evenings like this, when I take the 1 train to Greenwich Village and the subway conductor (is that what you call them?) comes over the loud speaker to say that if you need to connect to the A or B train you need to get off at the 72nd Street station because the 96 station is closed and I actually understand what that means, and I listen to the music of the subway as my train screeches around curves then coasts almost soundlessly into the 14th street station, and I marvel that I’m here, witnessing this wild and wonderful, unexplainably beautiful display of sound and sight, and spent 2.5 hours in a little dive bar in Greenwich Village listening to a jazz singer I’d never heard of before because I needed to hear some vocal jazz BAD and found her style smooth and easy, so relaxed in her phasing, and I talked to the bartender, a big, sweet man named Kirby, who’s a drummer and a writer whose aunt sings in France, and he pours me the last swig of an almost empty bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz/Grenache and I tip him another dollar before I leave.

Yeah, it’s on evenings like these when I take the subway back to my friend’s Manhattan apartment and there’s a man singing and playing guitar in the Christopher/Sheridan subway station, singing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, and I slip him a dollar just as my train comes, wishing it would come later.

And as the train bumps from 14th Street to 18th, I look about me and everyone on this subway train looks beautiful. The woman with long strawberry blond hair. The 20-something man holding a plastic bag full of take-out food, the teenage boys who sit on either side of me playing video games on their mobile phones. And I listen to the screech, bump and hiss of the train, until it glides, almost soundlessly, into a station and I think, why isn’t everyone living in this City?

Why doesn’t everyone scramble here where there is such incredible beauty, color and music everywhere — in the subway, in the street, in the sky, in the people? Why would anyone live someplace else? Why would anyone choose not to live in this cacophony of sound and sight that is so achingly human?

Don’t ever let me become immune to this. Don’t ever let me fall numb to the spectacle, the miracle that is New York City. To the beauty of the people, the buildings, the flow, bump and hiss of this organism I find so exquisitely beautiful and overwhelming to me now. Please, let me always find the joy and exhilaration I feel now, being here in this City that is one of the most spectacular, dramatic, incredible creations I have ever witnessed.

I’ve been back home for over a week now. What a wildly wicked and wonderful trip! It changed my life and then changed it back again. It lifted me up, twirled me around and then threw me to the curb… and I’m just now finding my center again.

And while I can’t tell you everything about my trip, mostly because so much of it was intensely personal, I can share with you the musical highlights and insights I experienced.

I fell in love with a great little jazz and supper club on the edge of Harlem called Smoke. I went there with my

Judy Barnett @ Smoke

talented friend Shaynee Rainbolt, who lives in New York and was kind enough to let me stay with her during my trip, to hear Judy Barnett and her great jazz band. They were tight!

And who should we meet there but songwriter/entertainer/funny man Mr. Ray Jessel. Now, I’ve heard so much about Ray but had never had the pleasure of meeting him. He’s so much fun and extraordinarily charming. He, Shaynee and I all had dinner together while listening to Judy and her band swing it hard.

Shaynee & Ray

Oh, how I wish there was a jazz club like this in San Francisco!

One of the other highlights for me was getting to go to Birdland, one of the most famous and historic jazz clubs in New York. Some if not all of the greatest jazz legends in the world played there when it was located on 52nd & Broadway. Artists like Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Bud Powell, Stan Getz, Lester Young, Erroll Garner, and many, many others. Today, it’s located in midtown Manhatten and continues to be the home of “some of the best jazz on the planet.”

On Monday night, I was there for Cast Party, which is like an open mic for some of the greatest cabaret and musical theater stars in the world. See, Mondays are Broadway’s dark night, meaning there aren’t any performances. So, a lot of Broadway stars who just can’t stand taking a night off, show up at Cast Party to sing and promote there show, etc.

As we walked into Birdland, the legendary Marilyn Maye was singing! Oh my god, this woman is amazing. At 80 years old, she sings with more passion and fire (and greater skill) than most singers in their prime. Ah, it did my heart good to hear her. I only wish I had been able to stay in New York longer to see her show.

I was also blown away by Ted Firth, the jazz pianist who accompanies all these singers during Cast Party. He plays so beautifully, with a restrained elegance and style, that I only wish he had taken more solos.

Then, guitarist Terrence Brewer took the stage to join Ted and the bass player (who’s name I can’t remember – shame on me!) in order to accompany yet another singer. I must confess, I don’t remember the singer or the song because I was so captivated by Terrence’s playing.

Lucky for me, I got to meet Terrence the following night! I was at the Metropolitan Room (one of the greatest

Terrence Brewer & Me

cabaret rooms in New York; I love hearing music there) to see my friend Terese Genecco’s show at 7:00 and then Russ Lorenson’s show at 9:45 pm. As I took my seat for Terese’s show, there was Terrence, sitting at the table right next to mine. I introduced myself and told him how much I enjoyed his playing the night before, and well, the conversation just took off from there.

To my delight, I discovered that he’s from Northern California! He was in New York to play multiple gigs, including Russ’s show that night. Well, well, well. Just my good luck. I’ve been looking for a jazz guitarist to collaborate with and it seems I had to go to New York to find one in my own back yard! Man, I love New York!

Wait a moment. Let me mention that before I went to Birdland on Monday, I was at the Metropolitan Room (can’t get enough of that place!) to hear my two dearest friends, Shaynee Rainbolt and Terese Genecco, sing for the “Friends With Benefits” performance, a benefit for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS.

Here is the video of that night.

I SO wish I had a video of Terese Genecco’s show on Tuesday night at the Metropolitan Room. Frankly, this woman makes me sick! Just when you think there is no stinking way she can get any better, she takes the stage with her little big band and blows your mind with her talent, her voice, her showmanship and mastery of this thing called entertainment.

Now, I’ve seen Terese’s show so many times I’ve lost count. And I lap it up every time. But this night, she did a version of “Anywhere I Hang My Hat Is Home” that killed! It rocked! It was jaw-dropping amazing! Damn her!

I snuck out to make a phone call before Russ Lorenson’s new show, Standard Time, which featured songs written after 1960 that Russ believes need to be included in what we call the Great American Songbook.

What I loved about Russ’s show, other than his incredibly beguiling voice, was that I hardly knew any of the songs in this show! Just a handful. It was such a joy to be introduced to songs written by by songwriters who are still alive and writing great stuff. Including my buddy, Kelly Park, who was not only the musical director for this show but one of the songwriters Russ featured in this show. Hey, Kelly! Who knew?

As Joe Regan, Jr., from Cabaret Scenes wrote: “Russ Lorenson, who possesses one of the great male voices in cabaret, begins his new show, ‘Standard Time’ with a question: ‘Who says the Great American Songbook stopped in 1959?’ The selections are a treasure trove of obscure beauties and make Lorenson’s show a must-see…”

On Thursday, Oct. 30, I flew home. It felt like the longest flight ever. So much of me wanted to stay in New York. I can’t wait to go back!

with Daniel at Upper Fourth on Oct. 10, 08.

I remember each of those moments vividly. The last note of “It’s Only Love.” The high phrase near the end of “I’ve Just Seen a Face.” The Ab in “Don’t Blame Me.”

AND there were moments last night when I never sang better. Actually, there were whole sets of songs that rocked. “But Beautiful,” “Being Alive” (as a samba, of course), and “Feeling Good.” There was a lot to be proud of.

But those sucky moments are the ones that kick my ass all night long and this morning. What WAS that? What happened there? How in the heck did that note just not work?

And when I have the answers to those questions, when I know what went wrong and WHY, I feel better. Because I know how to correct whatever sucked. But this morning, I don’t have a clue. And THAT bothers me. I mean, I don’t think I could even reproduce what happened if I tried. It just… happened.

This is when a mentor or vocal coach comes in handy. And since I don’t have one right now, I’m left to my own detective work.

I mean, sometimes, sucky singing just happens. I just hate it when it does. Especially when I’ve been working as hard as I have on my craft. But I have to remember that progress is a crooked path. It’s not a straight line to the stratosphere where ever day I get to sing better than the last and every gig is better than the last. It’s up and down, high and low, flop and soar. And these extremes can exist within one three-hour gig!

So, today, I’m taking heart in all that went beautifully last night as I dig deep into my investigation as to what sucked and why. And now, on to the next glorious gig this Saturday.

When she gave her concession speech on Saturday, I could feel her
sadness, her disappointment. Or what I imagined she must be feeling.
Because who hasn’t known the sadness that comes when you fall  short of
your goal. The deep disappointment you feel when you’ve given
everything to your goal —  your energy  passion, love, time, not to
mention all that money  — and you come to the day where you have to
stand up and say, “You know, I didn’t make it.” You didn’t make it, and
someone else has your prize.

As a singer, I fear that day when I might have to admit that I’ve
fallen short of my goal. That I didn’t reach my ideal. That, yes, I
gave it everything I had, my time, energy, heart and soul, and lots and
lots of money, only to fail and be made to say, “You know, I did my
best, but I didn’t make it.”

I’m not talking about the little disappointments and failures along
the way. Every path towards a goal comes with its ups and down and
rocky patches. Hillary loses a state. Gets caught in a lie. Gets bad
press. And as a singer, life is full of these bumps and challenges.
Those gigs when you didn’t sing as well as you wanted. Or the audience
turnout is measly. Or you didn’t even cover your costs.

But the sorrow I feel for Hillary is not in these little defeats,
but in reaching the final disappointment where the ultimate goal is
lost. Hey, Hillary won almost every debate she had with Barack. But in
the end, she had to concede the final victory. And the weight of that
failure is what I feel. And fear.

At times, this fear of failing can feel so heavy that it makes me
want to quit now. Before I give any more of my heart and energy. Before
I invest even more money and time into becoming the singer I long to
be. But like Hillary, I won’t throw in the towel until the writing is
on the wall. Until I know it’s time.

My friend Lua, who is also a singer full of longing, asked me what
IS my goal? What is this ideal of which I’m afraid of falling short? I
explained to her that it’s not a career goal. It’s not about becoming
famous or financially successful as a singer. It’s a two-part goal.

One part is technical: I want to achieve a level of vocal freedom
and authenticity that I sense is possible for me. The other part is a
performance goal: I want to know that I can perform with such a deep
state of connection to All That I Am while also feeling connected with
my audience. And to experience these two goals together, where I am
vocally free, real, and expansive, grounded and centered in my voice,
while also being exquisitely present and available to my audience.

Perhaps I’m not describing this in a way that makes it easy to
understand. It’s an ideal in my mind of how I want to experience
singing and performing. It’s an internal goal, one that only I will
recognize when I’ve reached it.

And unlike Hillary, I don’t have millions of supporters pushing me
on or calling my name. On those days when I feel like walking away from
this singing insanity there isn’t a throng at my door begging me to
continue singing. No one’s going to scream, “You go, girl! You keep at
it! You need to keep singing for us!” Nah. If I quit singing, no one is
going to lose a thing. No one is going to care… but me.

My friend Julee thinks that Hillary must also be feeling an
incredible sense of relief. The long, hard, very public fight is over.
She has room for the next great thing. I used to feel, at times, that
it would be such a relief to let go of singing. To let go of the
effort, the discipline, the practicing, the comparing, the
disappointment, the negotiating. A life without the push towards my
goal.

For perhaps, when you finally let go of that to which you’ve held so
tightly, that’s when something grand and magical makes its entrance and
asks you to dance. No longer held fast in the arms of your previous
love, you can say “yes,” and perchance be swept off your feet.

This I wish for Hillary. And, when it’s my time, me.

The other night I went to hear a friend of mine sing with her new band at a little hot spot up here in Sonoma County. I hadn't heard this friend perform for a while so I was really looking forward to it. She's got good taste when it comes to picking tunes and arrangements, and she has a great stage presence. But sometimes, her voice… well, it isn't the easiest voice to listen to. There is a quality, actually several qualities, in her sound that are off-putting, disjointed and slightly irritating.

When I listen to her I often get so caught up in wanting her voice to be different that my mind moves away from the music and starts figuring out how I would help her if allowed to. I mean, she has a good voice; it's what she does with it that drives me a little nuts ONLY because it distracts me from the song she is singing.

So, when I went to hear this friend the other night (let’s call her Betty, shall we?), the same thing happened. Instead of falling into the music and enjoying it, I couldn’t stop being distracted by Betty’s voice. I kept trying to figure out how to smooth out her breaks, bring the warmth of her lower register into her mid and upper registers, how to un-classicalize (okay, that's not a word) her sound.

Now, some of this may be due to the fact that for the past 9 years I’ve been working on my own sound by trying to remove the remnants of my own classical training and straighten out my tone. Which has made me a little obsessed about technique and registers and such. So, perhaps, I’m just super-sensitive to this whole issue of vocal sound.

But this is my fear. What if, like my friend Betty, I’m making certain sounds or doing something with my voice that is irritating, off-putting and distracting to the music… and no one has the guts to tell me. What if I can’t hear my voice objectively? What if I’m doing something strange or ugly and I can’t hear it? But everyone else can!

I suppose that’s what vocal coaches are for: to tell you when you’re off, when you’re doing something “wrong” or weird. But like many singers, I’ve been so messed with by psychotic voice teachers that it’s hard to know who you can trust.

But I do trust my singer friends. They’ve all got great ears, taste and musicality. But here’s the rub. Singers don’t tell other singers when they suck. Oh, they’ll tell other people when you suck, but they won’t tell you. Not unless you ask them. It’s an unwritten rule. And even when asked for an opinion about a show, CD or song we’ve done, the “voice” is off-limits. We can give constructive criticism about song choice, patter, creative decisions, staging, and other musical or creative decisions. But you don’t touch the subject of one’s voice… UNLESS you have nothing but fabulous things to say.

As I left Betty’s show, I thought about all of this. And there is a part of me that wants to tell her what I hear in her voice. Not to hurt her but to explore the subject with her. To understand what she hears AND what she likes and if she’s even interested in creating some changes. Would I want someone to do the same for me?

Yes, and no. I would need to be ready. I would need to have asked for that specific opinion.

I’m almost ready.

I can honestly say that I’ve never been so excited about an American Idol finale before. It should be a great night of singing, suspense, and all out performing. Besides, both of these two singers are captivating, talented and unique…and they can sing like nobody’s business.

Do I have a favorite? No.

David Cook has a better sense of who he is as a performer; he’s got the whole package: great rock voice, a sexy-yet-aloof kind of sizzle and savvy stage presence.

David Archuleta may have one of the most heart-stirring, undeniably beautiful male voices ever. There is something so intoxicating in the sound he makes. But while he sings with every cell of his being, he doesn’t have Cook’s sophistication. He doesn’t know who he is as a performer…yet! I mean, he’s only 17!

Both are Idol worthy. Both will give great performances tonight. And I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen!

I had no idea how it would work. Or if it would work at all.

But singing with "Mad Max" the Trombonist and my amazing piano man John Simon was a total blast!

I mean, how often do you hear a piano/trombone/vocal ensemble? Uh…never?

But I knew I wanted my friend and jazz trombone man Max Perkoff to join John and me for one of our monthly gigs at Upper Fourth. See, for the last three months or so, we’ve been featuring a different guest musician. March was Tony Malfatti, a great sax player. April was Rich Armstrong, one of the most talented trumpet players I’ve ever met or heard. And May was Max! And it was great!

First of all, Max is a ham. He loves entertaining the crowd, talking with them, and being highly expressive in his movements and his playing. But he’s also an incredible musician who is creative and daring in his improvisations. He knows when to create space, to hang back, and when to dive in with his whole heart. I loved listening to him as much as I loved performing with him.

His creativity inspired my own. I found myself vamping and playing with phrases in new, surprising ways. Which, for me, is a big deal. I’m not one to take improvisational risks. That’s not my strength. But when I’m with musicians who are creating a certain sound and energy, it’s easy for me to meet that energy and play off of it.

It was incredible fun and I can’t wait to play with Max again.

Well, a few of my singer buddies are out and about making music locally (and in New York!) so take a look and see if you can get your music-hungry ears to one of them!

Saturday, May 10 and May 24
Terese Genecco gives the last two performances of her amazing run at
the Rrazz Room in San Francisco.

The show starts at 10:30 pm. Yes,
Louise, that IS late, but don’t worry. After seeing this show, you
won’t feel an ounce of fatigue for days! $25 and a two drink minimum.
The show has a 2 ballad maximum!

Friday, May 16
Ernie Shelton is at Upper Fourth (one of my favorite places to make music) with John Simon on piano and Jim Passarell on bass. The music starts at 5:00 pm and goes until 8:00 pm. No cover. Just yummy drinks and bites.

Thursday, May 29
Lua Hadar is celebrating the release of her new CD with her show at Jazz at Pearl’s (which may close

soon, so get your butt over there!) There’s two shows, one at 8:00 pm ($20) and 10:00 pm ($15). You can get tickets at Jazz at Pearl’s.

And coming up in June…

Saturday, June 7

Elaine Lucia sings with at Rickey’s in Novato, CA with with Jonathan Alford on piano, Alex Baum on bass.

She starts at 6:30 pm. I went and heard Elaine at Ricky’s last month and it was a lot of fun. No cover.

And don’t miss this…(I’m so excited!!)
Monday, June 9

For one night only, New York jazz singer Shaynee Rainbolt will be at the Rrazz Room in San Francisco. She’s just finished her new CD with Russ Garcia so this is sure to be an amazing night. The show is at 8:00 pm and I’m not sure of the cost. It should be posted at the Rrazz Room site in a couple of days.

AND DON’T FORGET!

I’ll be singing and swinging and having a ball at Upper Fourth on Friday, May 9 from 5:00 pm to 8:00 pm. The amazing Max Perkoff will be playing trombone! And, of course, the super-talented John Simon will be on piano! No cover.

And in New York…

Wednesday, May 21

Local girl Shea Breaux Wells has her CD release show at the Iridium Jazz Club!
So, all you New Yorkers, get yourself over and give this Sonoma County
singer a warm welcome. Two shows, one at 8:30 pm and another at 10:30
pm. I think the price is $25.