It was a damp November evening when I found myself standing in front of a nondescript brick façade on a side street in Soho. The sign, barely lit, read Blue Note in a faded, hand‑written style. I had no idea what to expect, but the thrum of a saxophone that seeped through the cracks drew me in. I walked in, and the room felt like a secret kept just for a few; the bar was a narrow counter, a few stools, and a stage where a trio was already warming up. The music was raw, the players unpretentious, … [Read more...]