Loosely covered purveyor

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It is 30 minutes till the show, another dream. I am reviewing the artist’s live album, I think he is the late Tim or the established guest artist in town for another round.

You are there setting up. So is she, a rotating vocalist with children straddling her hips, begging for attention.

I can’t figure out the headline. These are covers, sure. Damned good covers, of songs nobody listens to anymore. They cross mainstream lines but originate from the classics. He plays… electric guitar… leading the musicians through everyone’s favorites. I scribble words, taking a stab in the darklit confines of this blue room.

Somewhere in between the downbeat and the first set, we find time to embrace.

“How are you? Are you in a better place?”

“By better, if you mean the same, yes.”

I should write.

The Northwest Jazz Collective reconvenes at the Anchor Pub in Everett, Wash. 7 p.m. tonight. For real.

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