Well, I've managed a little sleep and a lot of reflection on last night. And this reviewlet risks coming across like a star-struck fanboy. So be it.
Last night was truly special.
First, a big pleasant surprise - the seats were not only brilliant, but Steve's lovely Sonors were set up, left side to the audience, right in front of me. To get a better view, I would have been wearing his pants. I was close enough to reach out and steal his aux snare.
Next up, a mixed surprise - Frank Gambale was not amongst those present. Sadly, his mother has just passed away (another cancer victim) and he chose to be with his family in Australia. This all happened just a couple of weeks before the tour started. Frank recommended a NYC guitarist, name of Vinny Valentino, to dep for a month at the beginning of the European tour. They tracked Vinny down - on tour in Russia. By dint of fax and email, they managed to get the music to him and he learned it in two weeks flat while still touring, then immediately hit the road with Vital Information. That feat alone deserves a medal. And the dude pulled it off huge. Sure, a few mistakes - the odd arm-wave or nod from another band member to help out, and he walked all over the opening part of a Tom Coster solo, but still incredible. And, it must be said, rather better looking than Frank. Mind you, so am I. So is my car.
Support was the Jim Mullen trio, who were excellent - Jim a great guitarist from Glasgow from way back, and has been around the park a few times. Ably supported by Mike Gorman on the Hammond and Matt Skelton on a rather lovely little Ludwig bop set and Bos pies, he turned in two great sets of standards and originals. Oddball highlight was a jazz rendition of Nessun Dorma, and the stand-out for me was a tribute to Elvin penned by Mike. A real treat.
Vital Information almost sneaked onstage led by Mr Smith, looking dapper in shiny pate, dark Sonor polo and trademark dancing shoes. Tom Coster as always looks like he just wandered in after finishing a speed chess match in Washington Square Park, Baron Browne is Mr Cool, the Shaft of the bass, and Vinnie brought up the rear looking like one of the more dapper members of the Soprano family, clutching a lovely blonde Yamaha semi.
They launched straight into Tunnel Vision from the new CD, and my endorphin level went into orbit. I can't review every tune in detail, apart from anything else I was too enraptured to make mental notes of the setlist. I'll focus on the last tune of the first set and particularly two solos. I wouldn't normally hang on the solos, but these were the two most musical displays I have ever seen.
He begun the tune with an open solo, thematically a little like the opening from his DVD set. It featured the same trademark left hand ostinato with melodic work on toms in the right hand. I thought the solo on the DVD was brilliant, but this one went places no mortal can go. Blistering chops where needed, and he's been putting in some serious hours with his feet I can tell you, but never ever losing the musical story. Into the tune, and I had a few minutes to catch my breath before the closing solo. This time continuing with the theme from the main tune, and another of his trademarks - metric modulation. Laying down a basis in four, he then went places I wish I could even say I can only dream of ... but I wouldn't even know how to start dreaming it. Thinking back today in the car, the metaphor that struck me was training a dog to stay. You get it to sit, and you move gradually further away. The dog's tail is beating four. Steve moved further away, implying new meters. The he left the room altogether. He left the house, climbed into his car, drove to the airport, and flew to another country. The dog is still tapping four with the tail (as was I with my left foot under the table). You can faintly hear the tail. Then gradually he retraces his steps, finally coming back into the room...
... and dropping stone dead on the 'one' of the original four.
For the first few moments of the break before Mullen's next set, I couldn't speak. Seriously. I felt like I would break down. I could barely breathe. I just looked at my daughter and shook my head.
"Oh what," as a squeaky-voiced man once remarked, "a night."
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