G1 Performance 1: Smooth Tokyo! [MN]

Sitting in the back storage room that Delta had temporarily repurposed as a pseudo dressing/prep room for all the acts scheduled to perform that night, Takumi was feeling his heart race as he drew closer to his three band mates, all of whom were friends from his school back home in Karuizawa that had been gracious enough to give up their free time to travel all the way to Mustafa and play with Takumi. Strangely enough, it wasn't necessarily that Takumi was feeling a lack of confidence or anything like that; he was quite confident in his ability to play the saxophone along with his friends' respective musical talents. Takumi had never really been on stage in this type of performance setting before, as all his previous performances had just been school recitals for all the parents to spend a Friday night watching and video recording to never watch again. Eventually, with The Fourth Corner becoming more crowded and the night getting started, Delta decided to get the event started and gave Takumi the first time slot of the evening.

Setting up all of their gear on stage wouldn't be too arduous of a task, with the drum set taking up the most time at a couple of minutes with everyone helping out, but an upright bass, a keyboard, and a small saxophone were all things that each individual playing them could bring up on stage with no help in a matter of seconds and be ready to get started. Once Takumi and his three friends were on stage, Delta would draw the attention of the crowd, nearly all eyes being fixated upon the beautiful four armed woman perfectly framed in a stunning red dress and a wonderfully unique eye patch to match. Takumi was dressed in a manner he considered quite classy and appropriate for this sort of gig, a well fitting plaid three piece suit with a fedora of matching fabric and design, but his key accessory would be large sunglasses that, on the surface, were intended to add to the cool smooth jazz aesthetic but were really being worn to act as a sort of barrier to hide behind and help deal with stage fright.

Takumi stood front in center, beside the microphone being used by Delta, and behind him slightly to the right from the audience's perspective would be similarly aged girl being dwarfed by her bass. On the other side, facing Takumi from right behind Delta was a skinny lad of the same age with his keyboard also facing the center of the stage rather than looking out towards the audience. Hidden from the line of site from most of the audience by the keyboard playing boy was a more athletic looking boy with shorter hair sitting behind a simple drum set.



Delta finished up her own smooth talk in order to introduce Takumi and his friends, playing under the name of Smooth Tokyo, and then gave the spot light and microphone privileges over to him. With his saxophone dangling from the strap around his neck, Takumi took a step forward and leaned his face into the microphone while tipping the body of his instrument down and away from the microphone stand. He then tried to clear his throat before speaking in a deep voice that most people would probably be able to tell was being faked and not how Takumi's voice sounded when he spoke normally.

"Hello, ladies and gentleman. Thank you all for coming out tonight. Now please, settle in, get cozy, and enjoy your time with us...

As he stepped back and pulled away from the microphone, Takumi internally dreaded how goofy he thought he sounded while trying to sound cool and jazzy during his self introduction. He pulled the top end of his saxophone's body back up and brought the mouthpiece up to his neck before twisting his body and glancing back to the rest of his friends. His eyes would dart quickly to the keyboard player, then to the drummer, and finally to the bassist as he gave them each a short nod before stepping back to fully face the crowd. Takumi gracefully lifted his horn another two inches and slipped the mouth piece between his lips, curling his bottom lip back over his teeth and letting the reed rest on the cushion of his pulled back lip while his top lip dropped to form a seal around the apparatus.

Unless there was any background noise from the patrons of the bar chattering, there would be a second of complete silence. The air would sit still and heavy for that second while Takumi's fingers found their marks on the array of keys that adorned the wonderfully golden colored piece of instrument. A deep inhale through his nostrils would preface a firm but gentle flow of air being pushed up by his diaphragm and through his mouth, being sculpted by the boy's concentrated cheek and lip muscles before it was forced into the saxophone. The reedy sound would project out of the bell and fill the empty air of The Fourth Corner, creating an atmosphere that Takumi always likened to old black and white detective noire films. A short and slow sequence of notes would flow smoothly before the bass kicked in, adding some bottom end to lift Takumi's sound to the forefront before the piano part joined to add a wonderful extra voice that accentuated the simplicity of the bass notes, bringing chords of the higher end into the mix while maintaining a position in the background that allowed the sound of the saxophone to remain the lone voice that spoke out to everyone watching and listening. While he put in small efforts to hide his face from the audience with the sunglasses, Takumi was without a doubt the face of the band to anybody listening to them.

Now that he was actually playing his music, a song that he had listened to a thousand times since beginning to learn the saxophone, he was losing himself into it. There was no stage fright, or even an audience. All that existed was the stage, himself, and his three friends that built the foundation with their own talents that allowed Takumi to put his soul into the air and fill the whole room with it.

First song:


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Going for a 48 post timer, but it is currently 5 am my time so the next post might come a little bit earlier (between 43-48 hours from now for this first round)

With three of his former classmates acting as band mates behind him, Takumi found a family of sound supporting his saxophone as they all played on stage for the crowd enjoying their drinks. The number that they opened with was a slow one, for sure, but the relaxed pace allowed them more liberties when it came to pushing into a race for select moments where he found the opportunity too enticing to resist. By his own standards, Takumi wouldn't consider himself to be a flashy player, but the very nature of the alto saxophone as an instrument combined with his role as the lead voice in the song made it difficult for the melody that his horn produced to sound anything but flashy to his own ears. It didn't matter, though, as every note he played into, messed around with, and wove into the tapestry of his music only drew him closer to what he considered being in the zone.

Eventually, like all good things in life, the song had to come to an end; the drums and bass ceased being played, leaving Takumi and his buddy on the keyboard to finish out the last few bars by themselves and properly punctuate Harlem Nocturne for the audience. When they were finished playing their final notes, Takumi pulled the mouthpiece out from between his lips and glanced back to his supporting cast, offering them each an excited smile accompanied by beaming eyes which would be hidden by the large, dark sunglasses that may as well looked like two eye patches connected by a plastic frame to anybody else. With the break after the song, Takumi gave his friends a simple nod to imply that they should just go right into the next song before turning back to face the crowd and forming his mouth over the reed once more, rather than taking a minute to speak to the audience again.



Takumi held himself mostly still, merely taking in a breath through his nostrils while the sound of a piano filled the room, immediately prompting some soft and delicate cymbal play from the drummer along with the nuanced presence of a gentle snare poking through the mix. This next part was nerve wracking. John Coltrane was a name that anybody whom had ever touched a saxophone was sure to have heard of, and since beginning to learn the instrument Takumi had quickly begun to admire the man's control of the instrument along with his song writing prowess above those of nearly anyone else. Had the pressure of covering a work of brilliance from one of jazz's greatest minds not consumed his own mind, Takumi might have spared some thought to wonder if his friend felt the same way playing the piano part of the wonderful Duke Ellington. Neither of them could compare to the legends, but Takumi could hope that they, along with the splendid drummer and bassist, could do the number some justice and entertain the crowd with a treat.

Takumi kept his breath firm but light, trying his best to give his saxophone a lofty tone that floated miles above the foundation of his drummer and bassist, sinking down slightly from time to time to mingle with the melodically clunky piano tones that clocked forward until the rhythm picked up. As the pace was pushed, Takumi stopped his own playing and allowed the piano part to dance over the rhythm section for a minute before jumping back into action. Once he began playing again, his own notes flew into the air with more urgency, taking command of the song and demanding attention from the piano as the clockwork chord clunking returned.

To Takumi, at this moment, the crowd was a single mass of faceless people with nobody he particularly knew. Aside from his coworkers whom he only knew were around because they were either participating or helping to run the event, or both, their presences in the back of his mind would be nothing more than that. To Takumi, it was simply him and his band on stage playing the music that they loved, and the audience in front of them all, listening to the songs and (hopefully) enjoying what these jazz enthusiasts were able to put together for tonight.

The starry, shades-covered look Takumi had on his face was not too far from Farrah's own as she explored the musical stylings of her classmate. The second song was certainly a departure for her; they'd left the realm of smooth and gone to somber, or at least it had in Farrah's mind. It would perhaps be a relief for Takumi, or perhaps a little insulting, to see her regarding the second song with much the same unreadable smile as the first. She appreciated the jazz, and in this case, very much enjoyed the piano, but she wasn't a study of the greats.

That said, she found the third song very much to her liking, and once it got rolling, she found herself wanting to snap her fingers. Now this sounded like the kind of cool track she'd like to do unravel some freeform poetry to, she figured, perhaps missing the more obvious connotation that it would be fitting for a noir film, an art style she also fancied, mostly from an aesthetic perspective. Nonetheless, she managed to refrain from becoming the only person in the room snapping, and instead simply smiled appreciatively. "Hm hm hm! In that suit and sunglasses, he reminds me of me! I wonder if I could pull off a saxophone symphony?" she questioned to herself, already imagining the type of music she'd like to play. It was a good bit more slapdash than the classics on display tonight.

Speaking of noir films, taking a look around her, she noticed an ensemble cast of jazz listeners who each looked to have a story to tell. They ranged from attentive to bored, energetic to morose. It almost made one want to go start questioning them, detective style, if only she had some reason to do so. "Romance! That's the word for it. Romantic, I say! Everyone's hidden stories have a mystery that way!" she thought to herself, grinning to herself as she imagined herself and the others in a black and white movie.

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WC 335

Takumi and his friends played their way through the smoothly jazzy rendition of the Frank Sinatra classic, eventually wrapping up the laid back number into a soft but choppy saxophone melody which lead into a final cadence for which the entire band joined in. Every note that Takumi played felt lovely coming from within, as if he were offering a small piece of him to the audience much like a best friend might offer very personal secrets to another best friend during a deep, introspective talk that lasted hours throughout the night. It was wonderful and full of life, as far as he could tell, and to be perfectly honest he could have happily ended the set with that song if it weren't for the sudden appearance of a newcomer. When the song did actually end, Takumi removed the mouthpiece from his lips' grasp and brought his face up to the microphone to address the audience.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your wonderful presence here with us tonight... Takumi's voice would be obviously brought down to a fake, lower pitch as if emulating an older man whom had finished puberty. ...and if you would all graciously indulge us just one last number, we have a special someone coming up to bless us with her presence and help us give you all something very special. I hope you all enjoy this final number...

As Takumi spoke to the crowd and basically informed them all that this next song would be their final of the set, a girl appearing to be the same age as everyone else on stage walked up, wearing a white shirt and red sweater vest topped off with a white hat. She would walk behind Takumi to the other side of him and stand off about a meter away before raising her trombone up, her arm running the slide out and back in a few times to make sure it was moving fluidly.



Takumi would look back and give the rest of his friends a nod before turning back to the audience and bringing the saxophone back to his mouth. The boy sitting at the keyboard would begin the song with nothing but his own, emotionally charged and dramatic playing, running through a melodic run of chords set to a firm rhythmic pattern that gave off a sense of awe before gracing over melodic flams, prompting a playful walk from the bass before the whole band joined in, the saxophone and trombone holding a soft harmony that wove around each other's melodies. Both of their lines danced with each other over the pristine floor created by the rhythm section. The piano, drums, and bass had floated themselves, ceasing to be a floor and ascended to wispy clouds that brought the horns up into the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on their backs like two birds soaring above a vast landscape that one might see in a Bob Ross painting. The song would last much longer than any other they had played so far, but every moment would be filled with the collective souls of all five musicians, taking their turns to find their time to shine while still coming back together as a cohesive family.