Noge mornings, coffee, and Bill Evans
I'm completely immersed in jazz again tonight.
File 4: Bill Evans "Waltz for Debby"
(Mayuko Niimura / Jazz Cafe Chigusa)
Chigusa's café opens at 12 noon. Although I could probably get ready to open even if I started preparing right at the beginning of the afternoon, I sometimes go early in the morning because I want to have the place all to myself.
It's gotten noticeably colder lately, so Nogeyama in the mornings smells of winter. The entertainment district is chilly and quiet, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of last night, and there are few people around. I gaze at the piles of empty liquor bottles and hand towels waiting to be collected on the street and mutter to myself, "It must have been a lively and crazy night last night," as I brew coffee with my siphon. The sound of the coffee rising in the glass funnel and bubbling is soothing that I don't put on any records yet. Once the siphon has settled and the aroma of coffee has filled the shop, I turn on the audio system.
*An extra-large speaker installed inside the Chigusa store
The first record he puts on is always one where the piano is the main instrument. Mamoru Yoshida, "the old man," loved the piano. In particular, he loved Bill Evans' "Waltz for Debby."
Chigusa's imposing, oversized speakers are designed to bring out the best in piano trio music. The tweeters are in high spirits when the emotional and delicate piano tones, especially the treble, resonate beautifully. Believing they're in good form today, I encourage the 50-year-old speakers, saying, "Yes, that sounds great!" Listening to this song brings a certain memory to mind.
In the early 2000s, when I was a student, the number of jazz cafes had already dwindled, and the "vibrancy of the 60s and 70s" that I heard about from others was gone. Nevertheless, a few cafes stubbornly continued to play jazz at high volume in their cave-like interiors. I myself never experienced the heyday of jazz cafes, but I thought the underground atmosphere that disregarded commercialism was "cool!" and frequented jazz cafes in Shibuya, Shinjuku, and Jimbocho that continued to operate without compromising their unique style. At first, I didn't really understand the rules, and I never requested any songs... Looking back now, I'm amazed that I even opened the door to them with such a limited understanding.
My first successful request was at JAZZ@GROOVE in Dogenzaka, Shibuya. It was a place that played music at high volume on Altec speakers. The record was Bill Evans' "Waltz for Debby," a recording of the Bill Evans First Trio performing live at the Village Vanguard in New York in 1961.
Incidentally, Evans participated in Miles Davis's "Kind of Blue" (released in 1959). It is the best-selling album in jazz history and a legendary album that established a new playing style called modal jazz. "Waltz for Debby" was recorded two years later as his first trio album and is considered a masterpiece in jazz history, even ranking number one on Swing Journal's Top 100 list.
So, what's it like to listen to such a masterpiece at high volume? I requested it with high expectations, but I was honestly a little taken aback by the intense sonic assault that hit me all over. The album, with its generally high-pitched melodies and cold impression, already had a tense atmosphere, and the sound made the air in the store even more strained. I had no choice but to pretend to be respectful like everyone else and listen with a furrowed brow.
However, the second track, "Waltz for Debby," which also became the album title, eased my frown a little. This song, written to celebrate his niece Debby's third birthday, is delightfully beautiful with its crisp, clear tones reminiscent of raindrops splashing on the surface of water. Imagining the scene of a cute three-year-old girl innocently dancing to a waltz composed by her uncle lightened my heart a little.
There were only three songs on one side, totaling about 20 minutes, but the tension caused by the first-ever request, the cold melody of the loud piano, and the brief moments of relief...it felt incredibly long.
Before I knew it, I had stopped going to jazz cafes, and JAZZ@GROOVE had closed down. Caught up in busy days, I had become accustomed to cafes where delicious coffee was served quickly, and I no longer had the time to enjoy the music in a jazz cafe. But life is funny, and before I knew it, I had drifted to Nogei, where I was working as a staff member at Chigusa. I never dreamed that the day would come when I would be behind the counter of a long-established jazz cafe.
* Autographed portrait of Evans
I come to Chigusa a little earlier than usual this morning and listen to "Waltz for Debby." The song, which I once found cold, now sounds warm and invigorating, as if it's invigorating the sound equipment that's Chigusa's main source of income. However, while it's not quite a trauma, I still feel a little tense when I hear the beginning. Not as much as when I used to frequent jazz cafes trying to act more mature than I was, though.
As I reminisce about various things, the morning in Noge passes slowly. It's almost time to open, and the regulars will start arriving.
