Last week, with the help of The Attorney, I rediscovered one of the joys of NY nightlife: the after-hours joint. Drinking laws here state that bars must stop serving at 4am. Fortunately for the semi-professionals among us, delis can serve beer 24 hours a day, but if you find yourself craving a Screaming Viking at 5 in the morning, you have to know where to go. On the outside, your average A/H joint will look like a shut-up bar, or something completely different. Ours claimed to house a psychic, and actually I'm not sure it didn't. Might have been that woman drinking Creme-de-menthe and laughing hysterically to herself. Once past the token doorman ("I know Jimmy." "Right this way, sir.") it's all cocaine, haircuts and studied debauchery, with a side- show of slurring geezers cracking onto panicky nymphets. Not what I'd normally look for in a pit-stop, but still a diverting accompaniment to an early morning whiskey. Just nice to know it's there if you need it.
As planned, I caught piano maestro Dado Moroni at Smalls. Every Italian jazz musician in NY was in attendance and by the end, most were onstage. That was a bit much for these 23rd generation ears, but in trio setting, a tremendous performance. Dado's got the whole history of jazz piano down, and combines all this with a personal and individual sound. Nearly inspired me to do some practice. I was also chuffed to look up from my beer at The Manor (my regular) on Sunday to find him coming over for a chat. Top bloke- hope to have a play with him next week.
Not sure about live music next week- well's dry, you understand. Will be doing some hustling though, so I'm sure there'll be something to whinge about. And we have to talk about Phil Schaap's radio show. Righto.