Life Is A Performance

These are some of my mates. Tony on trumpet, Tom on guitar, and Hugo on double bass. They're part of a jazz band that play at The Grapes in Liverpool every Sunday night. I was down there tonight, mainly to catch up and catch some good sounds, but I also snapped some pics.

The Grapes is one of those proper pubs - the decor is the accumulation of years rather than a regional manager's decision, the locals are well known, and the owners love music. It's suitably located off a little side street leading away from the main road of glitzy, Habitat showbars pumping excessively loud music and employing a team of bouncers every evening. It is the antithesis of all of that, and it is exactly what I love about my city.

The drummer (out of shot, Tilo) and Tony had been playing a gig in Bolton earlier that day. And the other trumpeter (also out of shot, Martin) had been in another country playing music that morning. But they all turned up here tonight. It's common custom that, if one of them finishes early, and another is playing, they'll head down. To listen, to chat, and to play on a few tunes.

These are the guys for whom music is their life. They wake up and practice arpeggios. They obsess over the latest beautiful tune they've found. They guide the younger musicians and give them opportunities to play, and sage words of advice born out of experience.

And every time, people hear the music and wander in. They hear the music and they come to have a pint and check out the band. They think this is a performance. Little do they realise that every time one of these trumpeters puts their horn to their lips, be it on a makeshift stage like tonight, or in the privacy of their homes, it is a performance. The only difference is that on nights like tonight, those random people who hear the music and wander in get to be part of the performance, too.

(My apologies for the grain - which I actually quite like - but my gear is a little limited for these kinds of venues. I shot without the built-in flash, btw)