Lone Jumper

The spouse and I got out for a rare date -- and on a Tuesday, no less -- to see Jay Clifford, the lead singer for the late Jump, Little Children. It was an interesting show, just Jay up on a bar stool wearing an old t-shirt and jeans, playing a couple of accoustic guitars with the occasional pre-recorded backup from a record player. The crowd was a bunch of Jump die-hards, and his set list consisted of shouted out requests. The requests were tentative at first but became very demanding by the end of the show, especially the encores.

As a die-hard myself, it was great. He played my two requests (which he heard from other people) "Cathedrals" and "Close Your Eyes," the latter one of Abigail's lullabies, and did a wonderful, slower, more poignant version of "Mexico" that had a definite Latin tinge to the chords. He also played some vintage JLC, "Dancing Virginia" and "Quiet" as well as "Come Out Clean," which he forgot large swaths of. It was cute, he was a bit sheepish, but the crowd just chipped in for him.

Jay did also play some new solo stuff, some of which can be heard at the above MySpace site.

The opener was a decent singer/songwriter named Megan Coffee. I really liked her voice -- a slightly huskier, richer sound than many women -- but what was great about her set was the song "Rockefeller Center," written by her then-4-year-old son. Since I have my own 4-year-old, I of course loved it. The song was all about the bustle of New York and his fear of losing his mom and not being able to keep up the pace -- not bad for a little kid from Decatur, Ga. He even had two great lines, one stolen from PBS: "Rockefeller Center, for what it's worth/ has overarching themes about life and rebirth," and the final one just darn cute: "I don't know how I came to be this four."

All in all, a very pleasant night. Accoustic music, most of which I knew by heart, in a very laid-back setting, the darkness punctuated by the flickering of cell phones like fireflies in the darkness; the kind of thing I want to do more often.