Good day, and welcome to Day 4. I think I'm getting the hang of this now. Started out the evening with Stanley Jordan and the gentle cascade of sparkling notes his unique attack emits. Not only is it lilting and beautiful in its many harmonic layers and tones, but the way Jordan physically follows through each note with a bend of the knees, an arch to the back, or the twisting of his mug gives the listener the impression that if he didn't, the notes would somehow sound different. The man was all over the neck of his guitar as if trying to capture a rabid caterpillar without crushing it. His style is that gentle. The packed house at the Harro East was mesmerized.

In keeping with the cascading sparkle, over at Kilbourn Hall Bassekou Kouyate and Ngoni Ba let fly with a torrent of traditional African artillery while dressed in colorful robes. They weren't really dressed, but rather adorned. This group plays various inceptions of the ngoni --- the African equivalent to the banjo or mandolin. It is a fascinating instrument. As Americans we see it as folksy and perhaps old fashioned, yet Kouyate wielded the sucker as if it were a Flying V, even going as far as to let it wail through a wah-wah during an edge-of-the-stage bit of wildness. The band's choice of rhythms were multi-layered and a bit hard to pinpoint the down and the up, but the audience was safe. These musicians are from the part of the world that invented the beat --- and the blues, as Kouyate was quick to point out.

Next it was over to Abilene for The Amy LaVere Trio. Memphis musicians have a openness and a kind of neutrality in their music that no other musicians have. New Orleans, Chicago, Detroit all have their own signature call. So does Memphis, but it seems to have so many other styles bristling beneath. And so did LaVere as she slapped the bass while knocking the crowd out with a voice full of youthful exuberance and charm. The rhythms leaned toward the sinister every now and again, underscored by the guitar that was as much atmosphere as it was twang. Lyrically, LaVere can really turn a phrase, making music out of everyday life like in the inspired by real-life saga "Killing Him Didn't Make The Love Go Away." I hope my wife understands this.

Polished off the evening (and a scoop of frozen custard) with Trombone Shorty's hard and heavy funktacular at the Big Tent. Shorty handles the ‘bone as if it were a kazoo, offering blasts and growls with ease. I know I'm yet to hear Jeff Beck, but this was the loudest show so far this week.

Tuesday I'll be seeing the Sicilian Jazz Project, Miami Sax Quartet, and Rosie Ledet & the Zydeco Playboys.