The Magic Jazz Fairy Calls It a Career

It chuckled. There was the bar on Locust, about 13th Street, it recalled. Didn’t last long. When the musicians walked in for their gig, the manager asked how big a crowd he should prepare for. He hadn’t promoted anything. He just expected bands to arrive with an entourage. That place was probably the worst.

So many years and so many clubs. The Magic Jazz Fairy leaned forward in its chair, wings folded neatly behind its back, smiling at the memories. It was about to leave on one last flight. Tonight Kansas City’s Magic Jazz Fairy would make a final visit to all of the area’s sleeping jazz fans and whisper in their ears. Then it would retire.

Five years ago the Magic Jazz Fairy couldn’t imagine retiring in peace. Five years ago, Kansas City’s jazz scene was mired in turmoil, and the Fairy only made the situation worse.

*****

But first, the basics. Historically, some bar and restaurant owners have booked jazz but failed to promote it. You can’t blame them. Just running that establishment fills their day. You also want them to market the music they book to draw guests? For pity’s sake, if these owners wanted to be music promoters they would have gone out and discovered the Beatles.

No, they expect word to get out despite their not helping. They expect jazz fans to know where jazz can be heard and to show up. And if we don’t, they proclaim that jazz is dead.

Because they know word will be spread by the Magic Jazz Fairy.

In every city, the Magic Jazz Fairy ferrets out where and when jazz is happening. Then late at night, while jazz fans sleep, it flies quickly and quietly into every fan’s home and whispers into their ear where to find the music, so we wake up knowing, just knowing, where to go.

That must be how it happens. No other explanation makes sense.

*****

Five years ago in Kansas City, jazz struggled, trapped in a deadly spiral. Few jazz clubs promoted their schedules. Sure, one or two would post them online. But most found maintaining public calendars a mundane, even evil, burden. One club would give the wrong day and time for special performances to The Kansas City Star’s columnist. Fans, confused, didn’t know where to go. Clubs closed or abandoned jazz in a fit to survive. You wanted to hear jazz in Kansas City? Right. Now quit being a troublemaker and go find yourself a nice country bar.

Our Magic Jazz Fairy looked out over the Kafkaesque landscape and murmured, yeah, like I can make a difference. In fear and despair, it started to drink. Soon it was spending its days and nights in dark urban bars, shirking responsibilities, flying nowhere and whispering nothing.

Few dared to promote jazz. Few dared to face the community’s scorn. From all appearances, jazz in Kansas City was doomed.

*****

From the wilderness, in one of the city’s few remaining jazz clubs, a stunning young voice sang standards. Another mixed jazz with pop, swinging late at night with a vibrant, contemporary lilt.

Another musician reached out with his saxophone, another with his trumpet, a couple more with a bass, a few on piano, and on drums. Their talent was extraordinary. What was wrong with these young musicians? Didn’t they understand that nobody played jazz anymore?

These young musicians didn’t just want to play jazz. They approached jazz with a 21st century sensibility. Sure, a club owner stands to reap the greatest benefit from drawing a crowd and has the greatest incentive to promote. But these young sprites understood that they they could promote, too, by establishing a following and telling that following where they could be heard. Selling yourself is part of building any career. They recognized that today, for a musician offstage, that’s largely accomplished online. They recognized it’s not 1930 anymore.

Kansas City’s jazz scene started to capture attention, to nudge those who would listen, with the energy of youth. A new club featuring jazz opened. Then another. Then one more. And these new owners, these jazz entrepreneurs, were equally 21st century savvy. Their online presence prominently featured calendars and schedules. Finally, people could go online and find out when and where to hear jazz at a variety of locations. And fans turned out for it. The remaining established clubs reworked their web sites and started updating their calendars, too.

The Magic Jazz Fairy looked around, amazed at the activity swirling around it. Quickly, it sobered up.

*****

The night air was a bit chilly for this final flight, so the Magic Jazz Fairy pulled on a jacket.

Put the jazz resurgence in perspective, it thought. No bars are giving up country for big band music. But the growth is real. Real enough that an aging mystical being can again look out on a self-perpetuating scene. Young talent continues to populate it. At some venues, younger faces are filling the audiences, too. Weeknights can be iffy, but clubs are drawing crowds on weekends. Calendars are easy to find online, and mostly maintained. The smarter owners and musicians are finding just enough time to tease performances with social media. This isn’t the 1930s, or even he 1980s. But jazz in Kansas City is, modestly, starting to thrive.

Kansas City jazz had outgrown a need for the Fairy’s services. The public was finding the music without its help. Now was the right time to relax and retire.

Then a thought hit it. The mystical being’s eyes narrowed. “If anyone starts screwing up,” thought the Magic Jazz Fairy, “I’ll be back.”

The Night Before a Magic Jazz Fairy Christmas

’Twas the night before Christmas. In a bed in the house
Slept the Magic Jazz Fairy. The Fairy was soused.
Its pre-Christmas tradition: Visit every jazz club,
Once meant two or three, and there was the rub.

For two years ago, when Jardine’s bit the dust,
And critics proclaimed for jazz there’s no lust,
Just foolish musicians with nowhere to play
A music, they said, which had seen its last day.

Few clubs featured jazz. The Blue Room was still here.
Mutual Musicians Foundation brought late night good cheer.
The Majestic on weekends reopened its club.
But The Phoenix booked blues, saying its fans bought grub.

Take Five tried live jazz, its acoustics quite good,
But just who would go to hear jazz in Leawood.
Record Bar booked some jazz, and very good stuff.
Some other clubs tried, but it wasn’t enough.

The Magic Jazz Fairy then reeked of despair.
Because its main mission, to fly through the air
And tell sleeping fans when to find jazz, and where,
Felt mostly futile when so little was there.

Then, on X-Mas Eve, there arose such a clatter
The Magic Jazz Fairy jumped to see what was the matter.
“Oh, I know who that is,” Fairy realized quick.
It was his ol’ buddy. It was a working St. Nick.

The Magic Jazz Fairy and Claus were ol’ chums.
They used to go out and share a few rums.
Fairy peered up the chimney. “Slide down, you old fart!”
The Fairy did yell, “For you, that’s an art!”

Fairy greeted his friend. “Nick! Stay for a rum?”
Santa thought then he said, “I have time for just one.”
“But tell me,” said Clause, “I hear times, they are are rough.”
The Fairy just sighed, “Work, there isn’t enough.”

Each raised a glass and lit a cigar.
“Nick, you know this city. Jazz should be its star.
Fantastic musicians, the best you can hear.
But few places to hear them. That’s how I see the next year.”

Clause leaned in close. “I’m working tonight.
“What can I get you? Fairy, what’s your delight?”
Fairy glared back at Clause. “This isn’t for me.
“It’s for Kansas City. For the whole world to see.

“Great talent is here, but not the venues.
“Nicholas, more clubs for jazz. That would be the best news.”
Santa leaned back and winked then said, “Friend, it is done.
“Next year will be different. But now I must run.”

Fairy leaned in his chair and dipped into sleep.
Did he dream all of this? Fairy heard not a peep.
Yet, when it awoke, Fairy just saw regression,
A jazz scene imperiled by daunting recession.

But then something happened. Fairy found it quite queer.
Some weekends saw Take Five packed front door to rear.
Jazz in the suburbs was drawing new faces.
Musicians and fans found a new jazz oasis.

Then a club was announced for Power and Light.
A new home for jazz, what a welcome delight.
Was the Eve not a dream? Was this by Nicolas’s hand?
The club’s specialty: rum. Said Fairy, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

And ’twas but the start. Soon The Green Lady Lounge
Brought a classic jazz venue to the Crossroads of town.
Then the outskirts of Waldo saw Louie’s Wine Dive
And with jazz on the weekends, a bustling hive.

And then Broadway Jazz Club opened near the Uptown,
A new dinner jazz spot with exquisite sound.
The Majestic now booked jazz each night of the week
And The Phoenix booked more. Jazz fans they did seek.

This isn’t the ’30s. There’s no hundreds of clubs.
But suddenly in KC there’s more jazz than there was.
The talent just grows, with more youth breaking through.
KC’s culture of jazz shines a more vivid hue.

So this Christmas Eve, when the Fairy made rounds
To each KC jazz club, that covered more grounds
For a Magic Jazz Fairy who was happy, not bored.

And the night before Christmas a drunk Fairy just snored.

The Magic Jazz Fairy Is Busy

It was tired. It was tired because it had been so busy. There were so many nights and shows to promote, and the information was, mostly, readily available. So, yes, it was tired, but this was a good tired.

Think about it (not that you, personally, have any experiences you can directly relate to this). But flapping wings, especially large wings, to levitate a body then propel it quickly from jazz fan to jazz fan while they sleep, must expend considerable energy.

So imagine you’re the Magic Jazz Fairy. As we’ve established before, every city of any consequence has one. Because in so many cities – and heaven knows Kansas City nightspots of the past have been guilty of this – club owners fail to promote their jazz offerings and just expect audiences to show up because it’s jazz. And they can get away with that because they know there must be a Magic Jazz Fairy who flies to every jazz fan while we sleep telling us when and where jazz can be heard, so we wake up knowing, just knowing, so it clearly cannot be the club owner’s fault if nobody shows up.

And Kansas City recently has seen – of course nobody is pretending this is New York or Chicago or L.A., but for Kansas City – an exceptional story to tell. Jazz every night of the week. Sundays Mark Lowrey jams at The Majestic while Bram Wijnands followed by another show swings Green Lady Lounge, and some Sundays add a band at Take Five. Mondays mean a jam or big band at The Blue Room and Millie Edwards at The Phoenix. Tuesdays are Everett DeVan’s turn to jam at The Phoenix, Hermon Mehari’s at The Majestic, and someone different each week at Green Lady. Green Lady keeps jumpin’ on Wednesdays. By Thursday, you can add the Kill Devil Club and The Blue Room back to the list. And on Friday and Saturday, Take Five and everybody else kicks in, some clubs spotlighting a couple shows each night, plus the Mutual Musicians Foundation jamming all night.

And these aren’t trivial performances. Drum star Winard Harper visits KC this month. Trumpet Summit – Mike Metheny, Stan Kessler and Hermon Mehari, all at once – perform this month, too. And Matt Otto's quintet. And Sons of Brazil. And Book of Gaia.

Not only that, the Magic Jazz Fairy smiled, but each of the clubs maintains an online calendar, and maintains it reasonably well.

Now throw in special evenings of more eclectic jazz at Grünauer (Fado Novato, Snuff Jazz) or The Record Bar (People’s Liberation Big Band), occasional nights at Louie’s Wine Dive, and hotel bars here and there, and Kansas City’s Magic Jazz Fairy has suddenly found itself with plenty to stay on top of.

It’s the situation every Magic Jazz Fairy craves: Lots of jazz to whisper to sleeping fans and, whether through online calendars or notices on Facebook, shows reasonably easy to discover.

Stopping a moment from its frantic rounds, the Magic Jazz Fairy took a breath to note Kansas City jazz today was lively but peaceful. An uncommon stability has seemed to settle over the scene. No faction of the jazz community, as far as this Fairy could tell, was battling another. No club was threatening to go out of business. New performance spaces were dipping their toes into the jazz-related waters. The Pitch has even started promoting a jazz show a week (the name writing that new piece seemed awfully familiar, but the Magic Jazz Fairy couldn’t quite place it).

There was no sniff of friction in the air.

In fact, the local music festival to cancel itself was Kanrockas, an oddly-named event which one organizer described as targeting “three genres: electronic/DJ, hip-hop, and about 55 to 60 percent of the lineup will focus on alternative rock.” Gee, the Magic Jazz Fairy wryly contemplated, if that had been a jazz festival in Kansas City going under, commentators would be wetting themselves to morbidly declare jazz is dead. Surely the same standards apply here. Surely this event bucket-kicking must mean electronic/DJ, hip-hop and alternative rock are dead. Surely those commentators don’t hold the mortality of jazz to a different standard.

The Magic Jazz Fairy giggled with sarcasm. Oh well, it smiled, those commentators must have missed the article in the newspaper.

The winged being turned its attention back to jazz. It understood the scene holds room for improvement. Jazz will never again thrive here as it did in the 1930s, of course. But Kansas City could support a jazz supper club, as do Denver and Seattle. And this city’s heritage demands a major festival to compliment or supplement the pair of not-so-major events the metropolitan area currently hosts each fall.

But, the Magic Jazz Fairy mused, young talent continues to emerge. And Kansas City supports a culture of jazz greater than other communities its size.

It stopped on a rooftop and pulled those large wings back for a moment’s rest. It broke out a cigar. Striking a match on the roof, it lit the cigar then puffed then sighed.

This wasn’t always the case. But being Kansas City’s Magic Jazz Fairy these days, it realized, was not a bad gig.

The Magic Jazz Fairy Is Happy

All that turmoil, that was nearly a year ago, it mused. Surely, everybody knew then, jazz in Kansas City would never survive all that. But look at the venues today. Sure, the scene isn’t perfect. The scene will never again be what it once was, decades back. But a year ago, who expected this? A broad smile crossed its face, and it let its wings flap lightly. Jazz in Kansas City certainly survived the turmoil.

It was the week after Thanksgiving last year that musicians boycotted Jardine’s, seeing enough transgressions by its owner. A Kansas City jazz fixture for nearly two decades, Jardine’s closed and, despite feeble stabs at a couple of parties and New Year’s Eve, thirty-some jazz performances a month disappeared from Kansas City.

Remembering, the Magic Jazz Fairy shuddered. Because the situation then grew worse.

Another jazz club tried opening in the Crossroads district. With inadequate promotional support and schedules unavailable online until it was too late, this venue ran through its cash and locked its doors before the year’s end.

Two jazz clubs, one a two decade old institution, closed in Kansas City. What could a Magic Jazz Fairy do?

Because, as we’ve established before, every city has its Magic Jazz Fairy. The Magic Jazz Fairy flies through town and whispers in the ears of every sleeping fan where jazz performances are happening, so we wake up knowing, just knowing. Because small jazz audiences could not possibly be the fault of savvy club owners who fail to promote. Clearly, those savvy operators don’t promote because they know Magic Jazz Fairies will spread the word.

But what if there’s little word to spread?

Our Magic Jazz Fairy started hearing from unsympathetic peers. The St. Louis Fairy called. “Hey, K.C. Fairy,” it mocked, “I hear you’re chasin’ everyone out of town! What’s left to promote? Maybe a visit from Kenny G? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

The Chicago Fairy also dialed. “Yo, K.C. Fairy,” it chuckled, “what used to go out for music but now is in bed by six? A Kansas City jazz fan, that’s what! Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!”

Forlorn, our Magic Jazz Fairy heard whispers of a coffee shop in Leawood, on 151st Street, booking jazz. A coffee shop? In that suburban a location? Is that what Kansas City’s jazz scene had come to? Cappuccino and jazz among the hoity-toity? Still, it felt obliged to check the venue out, to see what was going on. And before the Toronto Fairy called, because that Toronto Magic Jazz Fairy could be especially snide.

The Magic Jazz Fairy flew south, landed, then wrapped its wings tight, so it could step inside the venue unnoticed. “Coffee and Bar,” the sign read. That was encouraging. Inside it found a warm, welcoming atmosphere, and excellent acoustics, and patrons who listened – they listened! – and owners who loved the music and cared. It realized there was nothing wrong with coming here for jazz. They were booking the music several nights a week, and they were promoting it on their web site. This was terrific.

Excited, The Magic Jazz Fairy flew home. The Toronto Fairy called. “You get some cream an’ sugar with your jazz, K.C. Fairy? Huh? Did’ja? Har, har, har!”

“No,” our Magic Jazz Fairy shot back, “I had a wonderful Chardonnay. And I heard better live jazz musicians than you’re gonna hear, unless you’re comin’ to Kansas City!”

The Blue Room reigned at 18th and Vine. Slowly, The Majestic started booking more nights in its jazz club. And add this new jazz spot in the suburbs. It wasn’t Jardine’s, but jazz, real jazz, was live in the metropolitan area.

Then, a month ago, to the Magic Jazz Fairy’s amazement, another jazz club opened. This one sits downtown, in the Power and Light District. It’s still working the kinks out of its operation, and the weeknight music is probably on too late for working Kansas Citians. But Wednesday through Saturday nights, it’s showcasing live jazz. Schedules are listed on its website. It’s active on Facebook. It has a billboard on I-35. It’s a jazz club promoting rum and jazz.

The Magic Jazz Fairy leaned back in its chair, its stubby legs outstretched with pride. All those jazz nights lost after Thanksgiving last year? They’re back. Some are downtown, some are in the suburbs, but they’re back.

The mystical being now leaned forward, to its computer, and it clicked on a link. There’s the schedule for The Blue Room, oddly not on the page where it used to be, but clearly linked from the American Jazz Museum’s home page. It clicked another link. There’s The Majestic’s schedule. Not complete, not listing musicians’ names every night, but it’s there. It clicked a new link. There was the schedule for the suburban locale, already listing dates through mid-November. One more link. There’s the new downtown club, its schedule online for a month out.

Not only is Kansas City hosting all the jazz nights of a year ago, the Magic Jazz Fairy found, but they’re all promoted online.

The Magic Jazz Fairy sat at its desk, fat and happy. It was ready to take the St. Louis Fairy’s, or the Chicago Fairy’s, or the Toronto Fairy’s call.

This 'n That 'n Chastised

So who among Kansas City jazz fans doesn’t receive this email?

This listing of area jazz events, emailed weekly, has become an increasingly invaluable calendar of where to hear our favorite music around KC. Currently The Blue Room and other American Jazz Museum venues, and The Phoenix, participate. If Take Five, The Majestic and the Mutual Musicians Foundation would also submit listings, this could become the most complete place to find where to find live jazz in the area.

I can report that the Magic Jazz Fairy (whose tales we’ve related many times before) was delighted to see this schedule. Absolutely thrilled. Well, there was one thing that didn’t thrill it, but never mind about that.

The email is free. It’s sent weekly by AllAboutJazz.com. You can sign up here. After you do, select Update Profile and from there the Content tab to enter your zip code and to click on a box to receive the emailed schedule.

If you’re a club, to enter an event after signing in, go here (instructions for uploading multiple events are here) or click on Calendar on the site.

*****

One advantage of having all area clubs participate would be the inclusion of this event: Parallax at Take Five on August 9th.

This is Stan Kessler’s new group with a pair of outstanding drummers.

I noted last week, after hearing Matt Otto’s sextet at The Blue Room, that some of jazz’s best musicians reside in Kansas City. Parallax is further proof, as demonstrated during their first performance at the Westport Coffee House. Stan Kessler on trumpet and flugelhorn, Roger Wilder on piano, Bill McKemy on bass, and both Ryan Lee and Brian Steever on drums, are jazz musicians who could perform anywhere, anytime, with anyone.

The unique sounds of Ryan and Brian driving each other on drums, one responding to the other, edged further by Roger and Bill, and complemented by Stan, sets this group apart.

Even more….

*****

Hey, this is the Magic Jazz Fairy. I’m jumping in here. I’m taking over the rest of today’s blog, because I got to tell you about what a moron it is who’s writing this.

Not about Parallax. Everything he says about them, he’s got that right. That show, you got to see.

But let’s talk about this weekly schedule he started with.

I’m looking the schedule over. I’m looking to see what’s there and what ain’t. Now, you know how this blogger, the moron who writes this blog, you know how he jumps all over venues that don’t promote their jazz events. You know how he’s always talking about how some places don’t use the free media available to them. You’ve read that stuff, right? And he’s on track with that talk.

And you know how he’s talked about his helping with the Prairie Village Jazz Festival.

So I’m looking over this schedule, this free media schedule that this blogger moron’s been getting for months.

Guess what event ain’t on there.

Oh, there’s a festival on there all right. Rhythm and Ribs, the one he wrote “bleh” about, that one’s promoted.

But the one mister raving-about-not-using-social-media helps with? The festival mister moron blogger booked?

Well, it’ll be on that schedule this week. Moron blogger and me, we had a talk. He understands the way I see things now. At my urging, he spent a little time on the computer to get that Prairie Village festival listed.

You know, I try to spread the word on jazz. I try to keep everyone informed. I try to do my job and help. But the organizers, do they help?

Some, yeah, they do. But sometimes, they turn out to be a damned moron blogger.

The Magic Jazz Fairy Screams

It had been there several times last year, its wings wrapped tight behind its back so nobody would recognize it. It wanted to be discreet, to enjoy jazz on the outdoor patio, nestled in The Plaza, and a drink on a warm summer evening.

Last summer the same singer and pianist played the patio each Wednesday evening, sometimes with guests. They promoted the shows on their Facebook pages, through some tweets, with occasional emails. Crowds filled the deck.

This year the restaurant has chosen to feature different jazz artists each week. The pianist and singer opened the season. The mystical being saw that on the pianist’s Facebook page. And a trumpeter would be playing later this month. That was in the trumpeter’s email newsletter. But who else would be there each week? The Magic Jazz Fairy needed to know, so it could spread the word.

Because, as we’ve established in previous posts, every city has a Magic Jazz Fairy who flies through town at night and whispers in the ears of sleeping jazz fans when and where to find the music, so we wake up knowing, just knowing. That must be the way jazz promotion works because, of course, small crowds couldn’t possibly be the fault of savvy restaurants and bars for not telling anyone they booked jazz.

But before it can spread the word to all of us sleeping jazz fans, the Magic Jazz Fairy needs to know the schedule. Surely this restaurant, with the outdoor patio nestled in The Plaza, this major restaurant, part of a nationwide chain, renowned for exquisite seafood, surely this restaurant has properly promoted their weekly jazz happy hour.

The Magic Jazz Fairy sat down at its computer and, with a quick Google search, found the restaurant’s website. Ah, a tab for Calendar. The mystical being clicked it. Up came this:


What? A blank screen? A page filled with black?  It clicked back, then clicked the Calendar tab again. Again, a page of black.

How could that be, the Magic Jazz Fairy sputtered. How could the national restaurant with the patio nestled in The Plaza and exquisite seafood, how could that restaurant be promoting its weekly jazz event with a blank, black page?

Did that national restaurant want to know how to promote jazz? the Fairy thought aloud. Did it? Well, then, just look at this website, for a local downtown steakhouse with exquisite steak and jazz every night. Just look at their calendar. The mystical being clicked, and up came this:

There, see, the Magic Jazz Fairy harumphed. Look at it, and I can tell you that this weekend the jazz group there is...

The Magic Jazz Fairy looked. The calendar said, Live Jazz Band. Okay, I know that, the Fairy thought, but which jazz band? Who? The mystical being clicked a link. A window popped up which told him that playing at the downtown restaurant with exquisite steaks this Friday was...a live jazz band. It clicked Saturday’s link. Playing that night would be...a live jazz band.

Upset and annoyed, the Magic Jazz Fairy declared, “I’ll show you both. Look at this. Look at the calendar for this city’s premiere jazz club in the historic jazz district. Look at how easy it is to find who’s there this Saturday night.”

The mystical being clicked a link, and up came this:

It triumphantly turned to its computer and announced that there this Saturday night was...Saturday In The Blue Room. The Fairy looked again. The jazz club’s calendar described nothing more. It didn’t for half the month.

“What is going on?” the Magic Jazz Fairy yelled out. “How can I fly around town and tell every jazz fan while they sleep who is playing jazz so they wake up knowing, just knowing, if nobody announces who is playing jazz?”

Anger welled. Ever since a major jazz club closed last year, the music has been more difficult to find. It’s been up to the musicians, through Facebook posts and emails and whatever other communications they could muster with no budget or time, to tell fans where to find them. But too many post the day of the event, I’m here tonight. That’s not good enough. That doesn’t allow for planning. Besides, it forces Kansas City jazz fans to subscribe to the email or the tweets or the Facebook page of every musician they know to have any inkling of where to find them playing jazz.

Red glazed the Fairy’s eyes. It pounded its mystical fist on its desk once, twice. Besides, it maintained, the restaurant or club stands to gain the most through promotion, through more jazz fans showing up and buying food and drinks. It’s not unreasonable to expect a musician to announce a gig on Facebook. But marketing and promotion are responsibilities which lie heaviest on who gains most. Is it too much to expect more than a nebulous listing? Or a black page?

“No!” the being yelled. “Don’t complain that jazz draws nobody when you do nothing to tell anyone who's playing the jazz!”

“Knock, knock” cried the furious being, its wings flapping wildly.

“Who’s there?” answered a feeble voice in its head.

“The Magic Jazz Fairy!" it cried out, its feet off the ground.

“The Magic Jazz Fairy who?” queried the voice.

“The Magic Jazz Fairy who wants to poke your eyes out for promoting a fun weekly jazz event with a blank page!” the Magic Jazz Fairy screamed.

Enraged, the mystical being flew out a window. It needed a drink.

Or to poke somebody’s eyes out. Euphemistically, of course.