Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Close to Home — What it’s like on the street where you live
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
Gonzo Report: Jumping up for jazz at the Conrad
Lament for Queen unseen gives way to gladness for Kahlil Childs Quartet
“I had the chance to see Miles [Davis] when I was in High School and didn’t — I still kick myself,” Brad tells me while we’re waiting for refreshments at The Conrad Prebys Music Center, home of the La Jolla Music Society. We’re attending a free courtyard show, part of the QRT.yrd series where Kahlil Childs Quartet is performing. Brad and I swap stories about more shows that got away while we move closer to Giuseppe’s, the restaurant providing food and beverage service in the courtyard. We share how grateful we are to have seen the live music that we did, but we still come back to the music we missed.
I share my theory that, no matter how many shows a genuine music lover sees, we always have a wish list. For me, it was Queen. I was just a few years away from going to concerts when they stopped touring and Freddie got sick. Brad orders some adult beverages for himself and his companions, while I opt for some sparkling water that gets poured into a plastic cup. I ask the bartender if this is to prevent the bottle from becoming a projectile during the rowdier numbers, and he says that’s never happened. It's just that bottles have accidentally gotten broken in the past, and anything that can be done to prevent broken glass cleanup makes everyone happier.
You know who needs to be made happier? The staffer I’ll call Crabby Patty, who approaches me and tells me that I can take all the pictures I want, just don’t approach the band. Even after I tell him I’m getting footage for this article, he condescendingly says he understands what I’m trying to do, but “for the comfort of the other patrons, do it from the side.” Maybe he mistakes me for a crazy homeless person. He wouldn’t be the first, and I don’t think he’s ever seen a Motorhead shirt at this particular venue, so it may be confusing to him. A security guard named Kim mentions having to escort a man out of a recent performance because he thought it would be a good idea to join the band onstage uninvited and unwanted, but she’s the opposite of crabby.
It’s a 4:30 pm show, and even though I arrived an hour early, I still got a jolt of panic as I approached and heard what turned out to be a sound check. I share this with a tall man who is monitoring everything with an invested intensity. He tells me with a smile that bad soundmen are the bane of his existence, something he never has to worry about here, which naturally brings me to ask if he’s a musician. Deadpan, he offers something I assume is the name of an instrument I’ve never heard of and query further. He chuckles and repeats, “'Dadager.' My son is playing, and I’m the manager.” It’s clever — not surprising, coming from the mouth of UCSD Literature Professor and author Dr. Dennis R. Childs, father to Kahlil. He tells me they have a gig following this one and the band will probably mingle, but they should be available to interview. Then he goes off to do dadager stuff.
When the quartet takes the stage, there’s the usual jazz applause at appropriate times. But there’s something also different, intangible. Childs, 15, addresses the audience with both presence and confidence — dare I say an aura? — that marks him as a leader. It comes through in his playing — alto sax and bass clarinet. His bandmates function with him as one unit, each taking solos throughout the set and all commanding attention at the same level.
Even before interviewing them, I can sense their fascination with all types of music. Bassist Luke Little (19) learned Cliff Burton/Metallica bass lines in his formative days. Pianist Quincy Reyes (17) produces music under the name “q the music” and has a mischievous look the whole time, while drummer Zollie Wariner (15) not only sets the beat, but weaves in and out with a deceptive complexity that brings “Take 5” to mind. As an added bonus, he breaks a stick, which I just find cool. Like I said, polite applause in all the right places is part of jazz shows. But the standing ovation and roar of approval that follows their set is unusual and encouraging.
Post show, the predicted mingling occurs: band members taking pictures and talking to admirers with a professional manner that performers three times their age would do well to emulate. And they’re all smiles. Real smiles. So while I didn’t get to see Freddie and the boys, I got to see these guys on this day, in this moment, and the show has stuck with me. As Queen would say, “It’s a Kind of Magic.”
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Jumping up for jazz at the Conrad
Lament for Queen unseen gives way to gladness for Kahlil Childs Quartet
Gonzo Report: Jumping up for jazz at the Conrad
Lament for Queen unseen gives way to gladness for Kahlil Childs Quartet
“I had the chance to see Miles [Davis] when I was in High School and didn’t — I still kick myself,” Brad tells me while we’re waiting for refreshments at The Conrad Prebys Music Center, home of the La Jolla Music Society. We’re attending a free courtyard show, part of the QRT.yrd series where Kahlil Childs Quartet is performing. Brad and I swap stories about more shows that got away while we move closer to Giuseppe’s, the restaurant providing food and beverage service in the courtyard. We share how grateful we are to have seen the live music that we did, but we still come back to the music we missed.
I share my theory that, no matter how many shows a genuine music lover sees, we always have a wish list. For me, it was Queen. I was just a few years away from going to concerts when they stopped touring and Freddie got sick. Brad orders some adult beverages for himself and his companions, while I opt for some sparkling water that gets poured into a plastic cup. I ask the bartender if this is to prevent the bottle from becoming a projectile during the rowdier numbers, and he says that’s never happened. It's just that bottles have accidentally gotten broken in the past, and anything that can be done to prevent broken glass cleanup makes everyone happier.
You know who needs to be made happier? The staffer I’ll call Crabby Patty, who approaches me and tells me that I can take all the pictures I want, just don’t approach the band. Even after I tell him I’m getting footage for this article, he condescendingly says he understands what I’m trying to do, but “for the comfort of the other patrons, do it from the side.” Maybe he mistakes me for a crazy homeless person. He wouldn’t be the first, and I don’t think he’s ever seen a Motorhead shirt at this particular venue, so it may be confusing to him. A security guard named Kim mentions having to escort a man out of a recent performance because he thought it would be a good idea to join the band onstage uninvited and unwanted, but she’s the opposite of crabby.
It’s a 4:30 pm show, and even though I arrived an hour early, I still got a jolt of panic as I approached and heard what turned out to be a sound check. I share this with a tall man who is monitoring everything with an invested intensity. He tells me with a smile that bad soundmen are the bane of his existence, something he never has to worry about here, which naturally brings me to ask if he’s a musician. Deadpan, he offers something I assume is the name of an instrument I’ve never heard of and query further. He chuckles and repeats, “'Dadager.' My son is playing, and I’m the manager.” It’s clever — not surprising, coming from the mouth of UCSD Literature Professor and author Dr. Dennis R. Childs, father to Kahlil. He tells me they have a gig following this one and the band will probably mingle, but they should be available to interview. Then he goes off to do dadager stuff.
When the quartet takes the stage, there’s the usual jazz applause at appropriate times. But there’s something also different, intangible. Childs, 15, addresses the audience with both presence and confidence — dare I say an aura? — that marks him as a leader. It comes through in his playing — alto sax and bass clarinet. His bandmates function with him as one unit, each taking solos throughout the set and all commanding attention at the same level.
Even before interviewing them, I can sense their fascination with all types of music. Bassist Luke Little (19) learned Cliff Burton/Metallica bass lines in his formative days. Pianist Quincy Reyes (17) produces music under the name “q the music” and has a mischievous look the whole time, while drummer Zollie Wariner (15) not only sets the beat, but weaves in and out with a deceptive complexity that brings “Take 5” to mind. As an added bonus, he breaks a stick, which I just find cool. Like I said, polite applause in all the right places is part of jazz shows. But the standing ovation and roar of approval that follows their set is unusual and encouraging.
Post show, the predicted mingling occurs: band members taking pictures and talking to admirers with a professional manner that performers three times their age would do well to emulate. And they’re all smiles. Real smiles. So while I didn’t get to see Freddie and the boys, I got to see these guys on this day, in this moment, and the show has stuck with me. As Queen would say, “It’s a Kind of Magic.”
Comments