8-14 piece Swing Band.
Stix was in a dark mood as he stepped off the lawn. He had just lost a game of croquet and was ruing the appalling tactical errors he made that afternoon. Quite simply, his mind was not on the game.
Despite an illustrious career as a drummer in the great Swing/Big Bands, Stix was uncomfortable with these orgies of nostalgia. He was looking to take the tradition into the 21st Century, to audiences who could appreciate the subtleties of interpretation, to those who demand fun and entertainment, to those who are beautiful, young…and…in love.
As it happened, Stix noticed his elegantly attired friend H, sitting on the terrace. H shared Stix’s concerns about the musical cul-de-sac in which Swing found itself. But what cheered Stix was a sense of destiny and a belief that H was the very man who had the wherewithal to bring such dreams to fruition.
A tray of drinks arrived and Stix presented his case. He finished by getting to his feet and imploring: “H – something must be done!’ H, with his habitual detached reticence, stirred his whisky and soda; the sound of the clinking ice cubes relaxed him and helped him concentrate. As his steely blue eyes gazed over the magnolia-scented lawns and into the rust-pink horizon, he took another sip. Stix still stood there, his mouth agape and his whole demeanour frozen in an attitude of beseeching expectancy. H took another sip, and then three soft word fell from his lips – barely audible above the clicking mallets – words that were to change the history of popular music: “Let’s do it’. And at that very moment, in a distant copse, a nightingale sang. It was a tune not that dissimilar to My Kind of Girl. Swing Moderne was born.