The Jazz Fest started Friday, but my first night out was on Saturday, when I went to see Saturday Night Fish Fry. First, though, I stopped by Rochester Contemporary, where AV Space was on the second night of a two-day music fest of its own. When we showed up, City Harvest Black was playing in a small, but packed, room. A projector showed upside-down images that were perfectly paired with the moody, mostly improvised noise. The noise set came off more as a composition, really, not unlike some of the jazz that was going on down the street. A friend told me the artist only practices the beginning and ends of the pieces, then adjusts the rest to what's happening onscreen, and according to his mood.

At one point, as an image turned right-side-up, it showed a woman struggling up a staircase, doubled over in pain. My chest actually constricted in fear as the noise built, and the woman vomited directly toward the camera. At the same time, I noticed cheery festival-goers out the window, coming to and from Christ Church.

Walked outside afterwards, and heard some band down the street play a straight cover of David Bowie's "Man who Sold the World" - I couldn't help but feel City Harvest Black was more jazz than whoever that band was..

Made it through the throngs to the Big Tent and Saturday Night Fish Fry (whose name I couldn't say all week without craving a fish fry, damn it). The band featured four horns, guitar, bass, and drums, and the guitarist lent some rock to the otherwise straightforward jazz outfit. His cowboy hat and leather vest, along with the barking he did to accentuate the song "Watchdog," woke up the crowd, as did the chanteuse that came onstage a few songs into the set. Her dress, and the fan she casually waved at herself, created more heat than already existed that steamy night.