Music Director: James Pearson
To celebrate its 60th anniversary, Ronnie Scott’s in London is taking to the road, with a mix of old film and photographs and a live five-piece band. The narration is decidedly scrappy, though there are some fine pics, but the jazz is excellent, so who cares?
We begin by seeing Ronnie Scott himself in action, welcoming the audience with those insulting witticisms that brought the crowds in. Then James Pearson, the club’s musical director, sits himself at the piano with Sam Burgess (bass) and Chris Hickinbottom (drums), introduces his first “guest” and we’re away with a couple of Ronnie Scott’s own compositions.
The “guest” was Alex Garnett, in stunning form on tenor saxophone and also the front for the rest of the evening, trotting out a chain of Scott’s gags, involving the audience and doing a serious bit in the second half by explaining Ronnie and co-owner Pete King’s wrestle with the Inland Revenue. In the first half a similar story – problems with Krays! – was told by Ray Gelato in the only filmed interview. The old ads gathering on the big screen seemed a touch disappointing, though the 349 Arabian shimmy dancers – apparently always in attendance at the original club in Gerrard Street – sounded tempting!
Then it was the turn of the second “guest”, Natalie Williams. With a weighty voice, she tends to soul rather than jazz. The pre-encore finale of Nina Simone songs, culminating in Billy Taylor’s I Wish I Knew, suited her down to the ground. In fairness she moderated her voice beautifully for Lorenz Hart’s most personal lyric, Bewitched, and delivered a very decent Ella tribute on Cottontail.
A typical example of a rather fractured policy in terms of connections with the history of Ronnie’s came at the end of the first half. Beneath a pic of Buddy Rich, Chris Higginbottom went into Sing Sing Sing – a wonderfully uproarious way to send us out to our coffee and ice cream.
Ben Webster and Oscar Peterson never met at Ronnie’s, but Sweet Georgia Brown – Garnett supremely in command, Pearson, often self-effacing, enjoying his moment in the spotlight – was a fair shot at what they might have done. On the other hand Moody’s Mood for Love, with Alex Garnett sharing vocal duties, was a total delight.
Williams and Garnett were superb ambassadors for the club, she tackling a wide range of material with zest and skill, he full of stamina and imagination, always sounding like himself, but at the same time echoing everyone from Sam Butera to Ben Webster, both engaging the increasingly enthralled audience.
And, just for a neat finish, the band, except Garnett, sloped off during It Don’t Mean a Thing, leaving the audience doing the “Doo wah, doo wah, doo wah” bit.
Reviewed on 2nd September 2022.
