A few hard-to-reach strands of tinsel are still hanging from the ceiling of Ronnie Scott's, a venue for which the term venerable jazz institution was probably invented. Never mind, the real cause for celebration is the return of Jimmy Scott, the man who sang with Lionel Hampton in the 1940s, and who - as a result of Kallmann's Syndrome, a hereditary hormonal deficiency that stunted his growth and stopped his voice developing - was often credited as Irma Curry on his early Decca 78s.
First night, first sign of trouble. Halfway through Monday's second set, Scott collapses with a suspected minor stroke. Probably best to call before setting out for Wednesday night's performance. Not to worry, he was given the all-clear by doctors and the show will go on.
His backing band the Jazz Expressions limbers us up, with drummer Dwayne Broadnax (great jazz name) leading the way. The group's musical director is the (equally brilliantly named) stick-bassist Hilliard Hill Greene, but it is saxophonist TK Blue (The Fast Show couldn't have made this up) who acts as frontman. Depressingly, it is one of Blue's compositions we hear next. Scott is nowhere to be seen.
Then, 10 minutes of dexterous-but-dull jazz noodling later, Blue steps up to the mic and announces: "Ladies and gentlemen, jazz legend, the great Jimmy Scott." The Expressions start to express themselves once more. Blue peers worriedly round the grand piano. At 78, Scott is a little slow to appear, but appear he finally does, launching into "All of Me", a song forever associated with Billie Holiday.
His voice (and appearance) is as strange as it is captivating, the quality it possesses weird and wondrous. The tone is that of an old record - you half expect to hear dusty crackles every time Scott puts his mouth to the microphone.
Three songs in, and he is off for a rest. Bless. More Expressions, before Scott reappears for a bluesy rendition of "There Must Be a Better World Somewhere" and the first set is over, just as things were picking up.
The second set starts as the first did. No sign of Scott. He shuffles back on and picks up "Blue Skies", light as Lester Young, blue as the skies he is singing about.
It would be small-minded to quibble about Scott taking things easy at this stage. He is nearly 80, has just suffered a minor stroke and looks frail enough for an over-enthusiastic parp from TK's sax to blow him off stage. So why do we sit here till 2am to hear him sing? Because, like the club he is playing in for the next week, the real cause for celebration may be over, but there is still enough tinsel in those tonsils to remind us of why we are here.
Simmy Richman
Jimmy Scott: Ronnie Scott's, London W1 (020 7439 0747), to Saturday
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