When I arrived at Harro East to see Catherine Russell at 5:40, just 10 minutes past the start time, the venue was already full and things were in full swing. And I mean swing, with the brave few already up dancing. I did a double-take when I saw the guitar player. Was that City's own Frank De Blase? What was he doing up there? And it wasn't just me, as just then someone right next to me leaned over and said, "For a minute there I thought that was Frank!" Perhaps it was, in spirit.

The four-piece of piano, upright bass, guitar/banjo, and crooner had the crowd mesmerized. After a dark song, Russell explained that she liked it because, "It's a beautiful day and it's the worst you've ever felt." They then went into a hymn-like song with the plea of, "Put me down easy." I felt religious. "As Long As I Live," off her new album ("Inside This Heart Of Mine"), was a sweet swing that got more than the one couple dancing.

A multiple-award-winning songstress (her walls and shelves must be stocked with accolades), Russell totally engaged the audience, screaming, "Baby, please come back to me!" sans mic on a Louis Armstrong tune, and told a Mae West story complete with impressions. And her band didn't fade into the background, with the piano doing some sweet, crisp riffs. And I swear a few times the guitar/banjo player took me on a stroll and told me some stories.

The show stopper for me was when Russell closed the set by pulling out an old Bessie Smith tune, "Kitchen Man." One of my favorite Smith songs, it's slick and slippery with sensual and sexual innuendo, and she didn't leave much to the imagination.

Side notes: I had to ask the bathroom attendant to keep her conversations with her customers down as the walls projected the noise out into the auditorium. And for a while I had a guy standing next to me who felt the need to snap his fingers along with every tune, in between which he gave me discourses on the acoustics of the building and how it warrants an investigation. Oddly, and in evidence of Russell's ability to hold a captive audience, very few people left. It's pretty normal for some people to leave one venue mid-set to catch someone else at another. If anyone had those plans at Russell's show, they gave them up.

The rain held off and I trucked over to the Chestnut Stage to see the Mick Hayes Band and inserted my ear plugs for this first time this fest. Not that it was exceptionally loud, but the surrounding buildings seem to become another sound amplifier. Hayes' sound was raw and ready, and appropriate for a bar and festival setting. As it was early in the evening, I don't think folks had had much yet to drink, and therefore the movement was limited, with just a few people dancing. A strolling blues song got a few swaying. He's got a nice amount of rasp to his voice and I think his guitar is just an extension of his arm.

Hayes is from Buffalo, and I had to ask myself why it took a Jazz Fest so long to get him to nearby Rochester. When they announced he'd booked a local gig and was playing later tonight at Smokin' Joes I felt a bit sorry for them. Hell, they don't know what or where Lyell Avenue is.

On my way out I stopped at the Big Tent to hear Hazmat Modine and I'd just like to say that I've never heard anyone play a tuba like a didgeridoo. Amazining! A truly shocking manipulation of an instrument.

Next I'll be checking out the Amy Lavere Trio (Abilene) and Viktoria Tolstoy (Lutheran Church) on Monday, but I feel Christine Ohlman & the Rebel Montez (Abilene) calling me out tomorrow night, at the least.