Just Jazz is now a distant memory, though a sweet one. Just Jazz was a small jazz club located on Bennet St in Atlanta’s Buckhead neighborhood, and it was brilliant. I visited maybe a total of five times, and one of those times is burned into my mind and heart.
Sporting a small stage that held no more than seven or eight players comfortably, it was an intimate spot well-suited for listening to live music. The interior was maybe 50 x 75 feet at best, with a bar running down the longest wall, and a few simple, wooden cafe-sized tables arranged near the stage. The walls and floor were covered with aging wood, hinting more of utility than elegance. There was a space that could have been used for dancing, but I never saw anyone make use of it.
My wife and I visited at least twice—once to see Cassandra Wilson soon after her Blue Light til Dawn album’s release. We sat maybe 10 feet from the stage, taking in her soulful performance. I’ve been a huge fan since. However, my most cherished memory of Just Jazz was one of those moments that happens and cannot be recreated.
Late one night, either a Tuesday or Wednesday, I decided to stop by. There was no one there but a few patrons, five members of the house band, and a few club employees. The house lights were down, with just a single soft red light falling on the stage. The band members, having basically no one to entertain, were practicing riffs and kidding around. Then one of the members said something about a version of “My Funny Valentine,” and the band leader, a trumpet player, started to blow a few notes. After a few moments, other members joined in, and for the next 10 minutes or so, they played the most melodic, tender, intimate version of that song I have ever heard. I sat there, listening to the music, feeling the stress from work melting away while being transported.
All these years later, I have never heard as compelling a version of “My Funny Valentine.” Neither have I had a moment in a jazz club that matched that moment, hearing the band improvise their version of the song. Just Jazz closed a couple of years later.
I’ve visited jazz clubs in various cities, but that night has ruined all others for me. The wonder of jazz is that it allows musicians to express musically what they feel at that moment in that situation. What they shared that evening night was special because it can never happen again.
