Today was an unusual gig of sorts, if only because it is a direct result of the “gentrification” of my neighborhood.
A while back I was approached to play a reception on the rooftop of a new luxury condominium building.
This was no ordinary luxury condominium, however; this was a building that was once an icon of my neighborhood, a building which, when altered, was mourned.
Locals cursed the developers, as they have for years now. We’ve all bemoaned the loss of the quiet neighborhood where everyone knows each other and says hello.
There are a lot of people moving in who use the area as an overpriced (although still cheaper than Manhattan) place to crash, then they’re on the way back into the city; they have nothing to do with us and we have nothing to do with them. More and more of them arrive home late – and drunk – on the weekends, and stumble – loudly – down my block at 3 a.m., a most disturbing trend that won’t quit. They are the reason we now have a grocery store, but it’s a high-end gourmet operation; we have a Duane Reade pharmacy now, but what will happen to the mom-and-pop store around the corner?
So it was a bit of a surprise that I got called to do the gig. All this time, I’ve felt like gentrification was what was happening all around me, and I had nothing to do with it. (Up until now, I had only been affected directly by – and thus annoyed by – the street parking situation.) Taking the gig felt a little like sleeping with the enemy, actually; I didn’t really tell too many of my neighbors that I was doing it. Wasn’t sure what they’d say, to be honest; knowing them, though, they’d probably be happy that someone got some work out of all the development mishegas.
Truth be told, the people I met were really nice, and they were very good to us. The gig was a lot of fun; I played a bunch of jazz standards for 2 1/2 hours with the great bassist Sean Conly and the great drummer Vinnie Sperrazza. They liked us so much that they would like to have us back for other events.
I will admit, though: it was weird being on the roof of an old icon with a makeover.


