Bye Bye Blues

Last night was not a great evening for our Veezy Coffman. No sooner had she arrived for the rehearsal at Doug Chaffin’s house near Ashland than she discovered one of the tires on her truck had been punctured and was growing flatter by the minute. Well, inside and out of the rain — oh yeah, it was also raining last night — Vanessa waited for a rescue in the form of her dad, Gary, driving in from home with the spare. Meanwhile, being the empathetic lot that we are, we switched the night’s musical menu to match her mood, meaning heavy on the blues. But after an hour or so of that, we realized that perhaps the blues might not be the best therapy, so we eased on over the jollier side of our spectrum. Now, we can’t say the operation was a complete success — it turns out even the most rigorous application of “Bye Bye Blues” won’t pull a nail out of a tire — but as illustrated here when Veezy’s sax just rocks the concluding choruses, it did manage to raise her spirits for at least a few minutes. Not surprising, that. After all, this old jazz standard has been generating grins and giggles for nearly a century now. And that’s good medicine.

My Blue Heaven

 You wonder if songs you hear today will still be around a century from now. Well, if Walter Donaldson wondered that about the song he penned back in the 1920s, he needn’t have worried. His tune — “My Blue Heaven” — was a hit for crooner Gene Austin when the ink was still wet on Walter’s pages, selling five million copies worldwide. That was pretty much unheard of in 1928. Then, over the next 90 years, the song has gone on to be hits for everyone from, oh, Frank Sinatra and Coleman Hawkins to Fats Domino. Here in Floodlandia, we sometimes use the song to start the weekly jam session, being a kind of barometer. If it rocks, then the whole evening’s gonna rock. Last night, it did — and it did.

Georgia on My Mind

 We say it all the time — music is as much about listening as it is about playing — and here, from last night’s weekly Flood affair, is a lovely example of what we’re talking about. Now, midway through the evening, Doug Chaffin quietly picks a few notes from our all-time favorite Hoagy Carmichael song, and within seconds, Vanessa Coffman is right there, weaving in and out of Doug’s opening statement with her own memorable replies. Yeah, we say it all the time: listening to Doug and Veezy’s musical conversations makes you glad you have ears. Come on along and just listen to them listen to each other.

Happy Birthday, Veezy!

 We were so pleased that our newest band mate, Vanessa Coffman, chose last night to spend part of a very big birthday — her 21st — with us. It’s also her first anniversary as a member of The Flood, and, to celebrate, she also brought a special guest. Now, ordinarily in the Floodisphere, Veezy plays “Blue,” her sweet and mellow tenor, but last night it was Blue’s big brother, the bari, that tagged along with her. All evening that the baritone sax, which Veezy named “Viper” (for its reptilian tubing), rocked the walls of the Bowen house just the way they love to be rocked. Listen the magic Veezy and Viper bring to this century-old Blind Blake tune midway through last night’s jam. Happiest birthday, Miss V, from your Family Flood!

Somebody Stole My Gal

 One of our heroes — the great jazz cornetist Bix Beiderbecke — died 90 years ago this summer. His was a short but brilliant time on the planet; he was just 28 when he died, but even before he was gone, he was already a legend, and still today, his music is loved and imitated by players around the world. Some tunes we play always have us thinking of Bix, especially this one, which The Flood started fooling around with, gee, probably 40 years at those crazy, smoky music parties of the 1970s where the band was born. The song was a decade old when Bix and his buddies recorded it in 1928.  A Leo Wood composition, it had already been a million-selling for Ted Weems and his Orchestra in 1924. It would go on the be recorded by everyone from Cab Calloway and Fats Waller to Count Basie and Benny Goodman. Jim Kweskin even made a cool jug band version in the ‘60s.