First Church of Jazz Music
Spike Robinson Had His Own Church
I spent a cordial hour with my old drummer friend John Galm recently. We were at a gathering where folks were reminiscing about a jazz great who ended up in the Denver area, Spike Robinson. We got to talking about how little groups of people would follow Spike around. Some followed him to England, some to the Hotel Boulderado, where he played the Mezzanine for years, and some to the Chepultepec in LoDo. For these aficionados Spike was the pope and his church was whatever venue he settled into. It seems that for many groups of music lovers a band, or a venue is their gathering place, their locus of significant meaning, their church.
The Magic Sax Man
Spike played sax, and he would play most varieties if absolutely forced to. But he would not play the soprano sax. He hated that instrument. In fact, a buddy of his picked up a soprano to play at Spike’s musical memorial service and it shattered in his hands. On another occasion at the Manhattan Club, just after Spike’s death, the light over his picture on the wall blinked wildly all through a soprano sax solo. Something happened when he did pick up a sax, especially his favorite an old student model held together by rubber bands. One friend said, “Give Spike a good reed and a good beer and he’d go all night” He mostly played the old standards from Stardust to There Will Never Be Another You. For his fans these songs evoked memories of their best days. He re-kindled old loves. In fact, he soothed hearts even during the most difficult hours. Old friends met every time Spike played and exchanged gossip and life stories. Sometimes this went on for twenty or thirty years.
The list of the jazz musicians who gathered last week to pay tribute to Spike reads like a who’s who of jazz. We’re talking about Ellyn Rucker (one of the current jazz legends), Dave and Don Grusin (the CU music hall was named for the dad), Lillian Boutte (the great Queen of New Orleans progressive jazz) and Derek Nash who’s so prominent in the English jazz scene right now. Spike was magic for these fellow musicians as much as for his fans.
A Funny and Much Loved Guy
My drummer friend was also impressed by what a decent and nice guy Spike was. He always gave younger musicians a chance. He seldom cut off their solos too soon. And if you insulted him he just turned aside and went over to have another sip of his beer. He wasn’t good at staying married, but that sort of comes with the musician’s trade. He was also funny and kept spirits high during long gigs. He had his own little codes for telling the other jazz players what piece came next. For instance he’d mumble “funny butt”. It sometimes took the drummer a minute to figure out that next up was “Funny, But, I’m Still In Love With You.”
Where Are The Mountain Churches of Music?
The folks who used to gather on the Mezzanine at the Boulderado were going to church, but we’ve got some of those faiths around here too. The fans at the Ned Mex all stay up later than I ever could to sit at those front tables and then do the mountain boogie. I know people who absolutely live for Saturday night at the P.I. Of course the Pioneer Inn doesn’t feature the same band every Saturday night, but the genre is pretty much the same. I’d call it sort of mountain motor-boogie with a bit of Latin beat. And how about those acid jazz fans? These folks travel from places like Commerce City to hear their brand of music in our mountains. And then there are the county western fans who head for Harvey’s in Central City every Friday night. They don’t even go near the slot machines. That’s not even to mention the Grateful Dead Cult. That’s a church with the most rigid catechism ever! A number of mountain folks still travel the country to Grateful Dead reunions even thought the band is officially disbanded (or that’s the last I herd). I’m sure I’ve barely scratched the surface here, but if you’re in one of these beliefs you know it.
Spike Plays In Heaven
One of Spike’s old band buddies allowed as how Spike must be playing heaven right now. If so the angels are listening to those golden sax tones and looking down on Colorado with love. If you’re a jazz fan you can still get Spike’s recordings. I’ll give you the drummer’s number.
