On most Friday nights, jazz-lovers assemble at the Edinburgh Church of Jazz, which is what I call the Edinburgh Jazz and Jive Club. The club was founded in 2000 by musician Violet Milne and enthusiast Norrie Thomson. It moved to Heriot’s Rugby Football Club in the city’s Goldenacre district in 2007. There you can dance and/or listen to excellent jazz bands from home and away from 8 PM until 11 PM .
I call it the Edinburgh Church of Jazz because it is has a definite and unchanging tripartite liturgy. In Part One, Mr Thomson introduces the band, the band plays its first set, and in the intermission volunteers go from table to table selling strips of raffle tickets. In Part Two, the band plays its second set and, in the second intermission, Mr Thomson and a volunteer begin the raffle as the room hushes in expectation. In Part Three, the band plays its third set as the crowd thins out.
There are traditions that go along with the unchanging structure of the jazz liturgy. The raffle prizes include bottles of wine, a round tin of chocolates (often Cadbury “Heroes”), and a jazz CD which is usually chosen last. Mr Thomas hails the winners, usually by name, and there is applause. A winner picks out the ticket of the next winner until the CD is collected. The chooser of the tin carries it around the tables, offering everyone a chocolate.
And then there is the congregation, which a young friend of mine mischievously compares to the Novus Ordo parishioners in his home town. This is because they are, for the most part, elderly. But some of them are retired jazz musicians, and some are jazz fans still dancing the foxtrot, if not Lindy Hop, in their seventies and eighties. Many give the impression that jazz runs through their veins. One elegant lady arrived two weeks ago in beatnik black, from the beret on her head to her leather-shod toes. And, meanwhile, there is also a sizeable contingent of people in their 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s. These age groups provide most of the swing-dancers. And there is sometimes a 20-something or two.
“A YOUNG man,” exclaimed Mr Thomson when Chronological Shorty George presented his winning raffle ticket last Friday. “And very tall! What’s your sport? Rugby?”
“Basketball,” rumbled CSG and took away a bottle of wine.
The weather was atrocious, and the crowd a little thin. Mr Thomson made a dire remark about the future of the club, and when I asked a volunteer about it, she explained that they need people to come every week. And I know, from my reading, that traditional Edinburgh jazz has been hanging on from day to day since the 1990s, when many of the local traditional jazzmen stopped playing or died.
The flowering of Edinburgh jazz was in the 1940s and 1950s, which produced such famous local musicians as Al Fairweather, Sandy Brown, Alex Welsh, Archie Semple, Dave Parton, Dave Kier, and Stan Greig. Many of these went south to play in London venues, and some returned upon their retirement.
In the 1950s, weirdly, Edinburgh jazz clubs were persecuted by the police. They let up in the 1960s, although by the 1970s, live jazz was mostly confined to pubs. In 1979, Mike Hart founded the Edinburgh International Jazz Festival (EIJF), which was a shot in the arm. Through the 1980s, Edinburgh jazz bands played in such posh places as the Caledonian Hotel and went to international festivals. And then–which is a tad odd, since it coincided with the rebirth of swing-dancing–the 1990s witnessed a decline.
But never say die, for as I mentioned above, the Edinburgh Church of Jazz was founded in 2000 (September 20) and is still around 25 years later. And, as Ian Ewing and the Chevaliers (including the prizewinning Colin Steele on trumpet) played and half their listeners danced last Friday night, I wondered why on earth there were not more young people there.
Yes, admittedly all three swing-dance clubs in Glasgow joined together for a Christmas dance that night, so that drew away some of the younger dancers of Edinburgh. But the people I were thinking about were the Young in General. Why were they missing out on the fun?
The club is not hard to get to by bus, and £12 (£10 for members) is not a heavy admission fee these days. The drinks are not costly, and you can stick to water if you want to. The bands are amazing, the dancing enormously fun, and the lessons extremely easy to come by–I believe Edinburgh Uni students can get them for free. After a few months to get used to you, the regulars will ask you to dance, and in the meantime you can bring your friends.
Live music! Prizewinning musicians! Energetic and inspiring dancing! Vintage fashions! A £1 raffle ticket shot at winning a bottle of wine (or the tin or the CD)! A piece of chocolate or two! Surely scrolling cannot compare to all this, even to a generation addicted to screens .
“I will talk to my group,” I told the volunteer.
REMINDER: Mrs McLean’s Waltzing Party is meeting on Gaudete Sunday, December 14, from 2:30 pm – 5 pm to bring our waltz to the next level and to practise a ceilidh dance. Donations of the edible and fungible varieties welcome. Contact me for more details!