I showed up to the 8:45 p.m. show at Christ Church to see the Royal Welsh College of Music on the "Made in the UK" stage. I had always found that kind of an odd title ever since the programming was announced -- would the whole school be showing up to perform? But ultimately the show ended up primarily featuring one group made up of students or former students of the school, Little Fish, a piano/bass/drums trio. The group was introduced by Paula Gardiner, head of Jazz at the college and a performer at last year's Jazz Festival, and launched into a series of original compositions by Chris Hyson, who is also the group's bassist.

Hyson's songs sounded very modern, and I mean that in a good way. They were easier for me to follow than some of the other music I've heard this week, and many of them had some really interesting movements to them. I especially enjoyed the fourth number (I couldn't catch the title because people were applauding, and also I couldn't really understand the Welsh accents; reflexively I wondered what the hell these Brits must think of our pinched Rochester accent). It had a really lovely undulating piano motif and a very romantic feeling to it. But it seemed like a pure romance, one that had yet to be consummated - or perhaps never would be. Anyway, I liked it, and I enjoyed most of Hyson's compositions. It was especially impressive considering how young he is. His music exhibits a remarkable self-assurance.

For the second half of the show the trio was joined by Evan Clegg, a trumpeter, composer, and also a student at the school, and thy performed several of his numbers. I didn't find these as riveting as Hyson's, and I felt like the show lost a lot of its steam once he joined the stage; I suspect the trio has its own chemistry that works, and it's difficult to throw in a different element. Ultimately I had to bail a little early so that I could grab a coffee before heading to the late show in the Big Tent.

Honestly I'm not sure I needed the caffeine, because the set by the Alison Brown Quartet had me jittering in my seat from the music alone. Brown was a banjo prodigy who decided to pursue a career in finance before realizing that bluegrass music was her real passion in life. She ended up going back to the five-string and since then has been nominated for Grammy Awards, had a three-year stint playing with Alison Krauss and Union Station, and has become generally awesome.

When the band launched into its first song, an original called "The Magnificent Seven," I wondered what this was doing as part of a jazz festival. If it was over at the Roots & Americana stage, maybe. But this was in the Big Tent. But then Brown's amazing piano player kicked in and I got it. The banjo might call to mind rambling mountain music, but the delivery here was full of jazz attitude as Brown and her pianist traded off solos, and the rest of the band - electric bass and drums - tied it all together with a casual, genial attitude. Plus, who cares if it's strictly jazz? The music was sensational, and I could have listened to it all night long.

In between songs Brown approached the mic and told a series of charming stories, including one about how someone in the deep south once asked if she and Alison Krauss were sisters since they shared the same name. You can't make stuff like that up. Never change, hayseeds. Brown was so genuinely funny; she reminded me of a prettier, less-goofy Amy Poehler, and she and her band seemed to have a real nice time up on that stage.

Brown played a variety of songs, including an original written for an astronaut fan of hers that was selected as the official wake-up music while the fan was on her space-shuttle missions, plus the standard "Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans?" and "Hungaria" by Django Reinhardt. It was a fabulous set featuring fabulous musicians, and I didn't want it to end.

I'll be taking the next few nights off due to other work obligations, but I'm hoping to catch Susanna & The Magical Orchestra on the Nordic stage come Friday. That is, if I can find a way to work around my 4-year-old niece's first dance recital. Priorities, folks.