Archive for Jazz

Airlie Scott Leads a Mischievous, Music‑Rich Mystery on the Jazz Express

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★★★★★ This show sweeps you up before you’ve even found your seat. All Aboard the Jazz Express is a high‑spirited, mischievous cabaret that transforms Theatre 1, fheSpace @ Surgeons’ Hall, into the dining car of Europe’s most glamorous train, rattling from Paris to Istanbul with a suitcase full of swing, secrets and delightful nonsense.

The Hot Jazz Vagabonds are the engine of the piece, and what an engine they are. Pete Watson’s accordion curls around the room like cigarette smoke; Alan Gibson’s double bass keeps everything steady with unflappable charm; David Ahmed and Andy Ruiz Palma trade guitar lines with the shimmering ease of musicians who know exactly how to make a room feel alive. Their sound — a blend of hot 1930s swing, smoky chanson and gypsy jazz — is rich, warm and utterly irresistible. It’s no surprise they’ve graced stages from Glastonbury to Ronnie Scott’s; they play with the confidence of a band that has seen every kind of audience and knows how to win them all.

Into this musical whirlwind steps Airlie Scott, elegant, playful and gloriously unpredictable. As Vivienne Valise, she welcomes us aboard with a conspiratorial smile and the revelation that she is, in fact, a spy en route to Istanbul. She suspects one of the musicians is a spy too — and from that moment on, the show becomes a deliciously tongue‑in‑cheek mystery, full of coded glances, sudden revelations and the kind of theatrical chaos that makes audiences beam.

At each stop along the legendary route, the tone shifts just enough to keep things lively. In Belgrade, she slips a message to a spy hidden in the audience. In Vienna, documents are exchanged with suspicious flourish. In Sofia, she bursts into “Joseph Joseph” with infectious energy. And in Milan, her rendition of Tu Vuo’ Fa’ l’Americano is a cheeky delight, capturing the post‑war swagger of Italians playing at being American. She moves with ease from English to French to Italian, each song delivered with a storyteller’s instinct and a cabaret singer’s flair.

One of the loveliest moments sees her seated at a small table, singing in French with a softness that hushes the room. Another has her clicking her fingers to the gypsy jazz beat, weaving through the space with a dancer’s lightness. She is a performer who understands atmosphere — how to build it, how to break it, and how to let the band breathe inside it.

The murder mystery element is handled with a wink rather than a weight. A sudden “shot” rings out; Airlie ducks; the audience follows suit, half‑laughing, half‑startled. Two agents appear on the platform. Papers are shuffled. Suspicions rise. And by the time the train reaches Istanbul, the final twist — involving Alan’s double‑bass‑playing fugitive — lands with just the right mix of absurdity and theatrical satisfaction.

Musically, the show is a joy. The Vagabonds play with precision and personality, never missing a beat, never losing the thread of the story woven around them. The journey from Paris to Istanbul becomes not just a route but a rhythm — each city a new flavour, each song a new clue, each moment another reason to smile.

Theatre‑wise, it’s brisk, charming and beautifully pitched. The audience is drawn in without ever being pushed; the humour is light but clever; the atmosphere is rich without being heavy. It’s the kind of Fringe show that leaves you feeling brighter than when you walked in — a little dazzled, a little amused, and very much entertained.

Reviewed by Jacqueline Sharp

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Broadway Melodies – The Joy of Musical Theatre

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★★★★★ Philip Contini & His Be Happy Band deliver a fabulous 70-minute celebration of Broadway and musical theatre in an intimate Edinburgh Fringe setting. 

The room may be small, and the stage compact, but the production makes excellent use of every available inch. That intimacy works in the show’s favour, bringing the audience close to the performers and creating a wonderfully warm atmosphere. 

For the performance I attended, every seat was taken. The full house helped generate a real sense of occasion before the music had even begun, and that atmosphere continued throughout the show. 

Contini is appearing at the Edinburgh Fringe for the 34th time, and that wealth of experience shows. Joined by his six-piece Be Happy Band, he presents a programme built around memorable songs from some of musical theatre’s best-loved productions. 

The repertoire includes material associated with shows such as Anything Goes, Babes in Arms, Hello, Dolly!, Les Misérables, The Music Man, South Pacific and West Side Story. 

What makes the show particularly enjoyable is its uncomplicated celebration of musical theatre. It is performed with warmth and enthusiasm, with the live band bringing the Broadway melodies vividly to life. 

Despite the restricted stage space, the performers never appear constrained by it. Instead, they use the intimate surroundings to create a close connection with the audience. 

At £18 for a 70-minute performance, Broadway Melodies – The Joy of Musical Theatre offers an entertaining and uplifting Fringe experience, particularly for anyone with a love of classic musicals and live music. 

The combination of a full house, great atmosphere, accomplished musicianship and Contini’s easy rapport with the audience made this one of those Fringe performances that simply leaves you feeling good. 

Reviewed by Jacqueline  Sharp

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 Remaining performances 

  • Thursday 20 August – 1:00pm 
  • Friday 21 August – 1:00pm 
  • Wednesday 26 August – 1:00pm 
  • Friday 28 August – 3:30pm 
  • Saturday 29 August – 8:30pm 
  • Monday 31 August – 1:00pm 

 

Also at the Fringe 

Philip Contini is also appearing with pianist Anne Evans in Appassionato – Romantic Songs of Italy, a 60-minute programme celebrating classical, popular Neapolitan and Italian songs through music and storytelling. 

Remaining performance

  • Thursday 27 August – 1:00pm 

 

 

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Musical Soulmates Captures the Pain and Beauty of Billie Holiday & Lester Young

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⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Some Fringe shows just entertain, and then there are shows that educate while they entertain, pulling you into a world you thought you already understood.  Musical Soulmates: Songs of Billie Holiday and Lester Young sits firmly in the latter category. It’s not simply a tribute to Billie Holiday and Lester Young; it’s a guided excavation of their lives, their music, and the brutal social machinery that shaped both. 

Christine Adams anchors the evening with soul‑stirring vocals—rich, grainy, emotionally alert. She wisely avoids imitation. There’s no attempt to mimic Holiday’s timbre or phrasing; instead, she leans into tonal homage, letting the ache behind the songs rise naturally. Adams understands Holiday’s sly humour, her armour of wit, her habit of letting pain sit quietly in the corner until it couldn’t be ignored. Songs like God Bless the Child aren’t just performed—they’re contextualised, illuminated, allowed to breathe.

One of the pleasures of the evening was the mix of familiar and unfamiliar material. There were plenty of songs I hadn’t heard before but liked immediately — including A Sailboat in the Moonlight, a gently romantic 1937 number Holiday made her own. It drifts along on the fantasy of two people escaping their troubles by imagining themselves gliding across moonlit water, a kind of soft-focus daydream set to music. And then there were the more familiar pieces, like These Foolish Things, which landed with a different kind of emotional weight. My mother played a lot of jazz when I was growing up, so those melodies carried me straight back to childhood — an unexpected trip down memory lane that added another layer to an already rich show.

Dick Lee’s saxophone and clarinet provide the show’s emotional counterweight. Ebullient, warm, and conversational, his playing feels like a dialogue with Adams rather than accompaniment. Holiday and Young’s musical compatibility famously verged on telepathy; Lee and Adams recreate that sense of intuitive exchange. Lee’s lines curl around Adams’ phrasing, sometimes shadowing it, sometimes nudging it forward, sometimes breaking away entirely to offer a commentary of their own. It’s a partnership built on trust, and it shows.

Phil Adams on guitar and Jerry Forde on bass complete the quartet with understated finesse. Adams’ guitar work is clean and spacious, never crowding the vocals, while Forde’s bass provides the steady heartbeat the show depends on. Together, they create arrangements that are respectful without being museum pieces—alive, responsive, and shaped by the room.

The narration threads through the performance with conversational ease. One moment, we’re hearing about Holiday and Young’s early camaraderie—his nickname  for her “Lady Day,” her “Pres” for him —and the next, we’re plunged into the silence of their three‑year estrangement. The show doesn’t sensationalise the rupture. Instead, it treats it as part of the larger tapestry of two artists navigating fame, addiction, racism, and the relentless grind of touring in segregated America.

And that’s where the Jim Crow material lands with force. The narrator doesn’t lecture; they illuminate. Jim Crow wasn’t an abstract policy—it was a daily logistical nightmare for Black musicians. Holiday and Young were barred from hotels, forced into back entrances, denied basic dignity. When Adams sings after these explanations, the songs carry a different weight. You feel the context pressing in.

The legal troubles are handled with similar nuance. Holiday’s arrests—mainly tied to drugs, always weaponised against her—are framed not as moral failings but as symptoms of trauma and exploitation. Young’s imprisonment, via military court‑martial for marijuana and alcohol possession, becomes another example of how Black artists were punished more harshly than their white counterparts. 

Structurally, the production moves with confident rhythm. Short stretches of storytelling give way to bursts of song. A quiet anecdote is followed by a musical punch. Paragraphs of history dissolve into a single held note. 

By the end, what stays with you  isn’t just the music, or the biography, or the historical detail. It’s the sense of two artists—Holiday and Young—trying to carve out space for themselves in a world determined to shrink them. The show honours that struggle without romanticising it.  It’s a reminder that the past isn’t past. It’s still singing.

Musical Soulmates is a production that deserves to be seen—not because it’s nostalgic, but because it’s honest. It celebrates two friends whose musical and spiritual compatibility bordered on the miraculous, and it does so with intelligence, warmth, and emotional clarity. Adams, Lee, Adams, and Forde deliver a show that feels both intimate and expansive, rooted in history yet alive in the present.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

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A Relaxed, Charming Hour of French Chanson and Jazz at the Fringe

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Paris in a Jazz Age Captures the Smoke, Swing and Soul of 1920s Paris

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 Some Fringe shows try to recreate an era with props and posture. Paris in a Jazz Age does it with mood. From the moment Airlie Scott steps into the light as Eloise DeFleur, you feel the room tilt gently toward 1920s Paris and on — that heady mix of smoke, swing, and possibility. It’s not a history lecture. It’s a feeling. And the show gets that feeling right.

Airlie has an easy command of the space. She doesn’t force the character; she lets Eloise arrive naturally, as if she’s been living in the wings for decades and has finally decided to wander out and talk. There’s a warmth to her storytelling, a softness in the way she lets memories unfold. Nothing rushed. Nothing over‑played. Just a woman looking back at the city that shaped her.

The music is where the show really breathes. The Hot Jazz Vagabonds are the real thing — proper hot‑club swing, the kind of nimble, conversational playing that makes you sit up a little straighter. Alan Gibson’s bass keeps everything steady; David Ahmed and Andy Ruiz Palma’s guitars dance around each other with that unmistakable Django shimmer; Pete Watson’s accordion folds the whole sound in Parisian colour. It’s a band that knows exactly what it’s doing.

One of the highlights for me was “Blue Skies”, a Josephine Baker song from 1937. It’s one of my favourite vocal jazz numbers anyway, but Airlie gives it a lovely lift — bright, hopeful, almost conspiratorial. You can hear the optimism of early‑20s Paris in the way she phrases it, that sense of a city opening its arms to anyone bold enough to step inside.

The show also touches on songs that speak directly to the city itself — pieces like “I Love Paris”, which fits the tone perfectly. It’s one of those numbers that carries the whole sweep of the place in a few bars: the romance, the melancholy, the sense that the city is always slightly larger than your own life. Hearing it in this context feels right. It’s not just a standard; it’s a love letter folded into the set.

The rest of the repertoire moves through the music that defined the era: gypsy jazz standards, early swing, touches of French chanson, and those American Songbook classics that drifted across the Atlantic and settled into the clubs. Airlie has spoken about building the show around songs she loves from those traditions, and you can feel that affection. Nothing feels like filler. Every number earns its place.

What gives the show its shape is the memoir framing — Eloise arriving in Paris in 1920, finding her voice, losing people she loved, watching the city change under Occupation, and carrying on because that’s what Paris demanded. It’s lightly handled, never heavy, but it gives the music emotional weight. A song isn’t just a song; it’s a chapter.

There’s a moment, late in the show, where Airlie shifts from glamour to something quieter. It’s subtle, but it lands. You realise you’ve been listening not just to a performer but to a woman who has lived through joy and uncertainty and still finds reasons to sing. That’s the heart of the piece.

By the end, you feel you’ve spent an hour in Paris — not the postcard version, but the one built from late‑night cafés, warm laughter, and songs that stay with you. It’s a lovely thing to walk out of Surgeons’ Hall with.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

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Read our interview with Airlie  Scott here

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Jazz‑Infused Dylan Reimagined: Bob Dylan On Piano Finds Fresh Possibilities in Classic Songs

The small stage was crammed at the end as more musicians joined in!

★★★★★There are probably few songwriters whose work has been rearranged, reinterpreted and generally pulled apart quite as often as Bob Dylan’s. That presents anyone attempting another Dylan show with an obvious problem. Simply reproducing the records isn’t particularly interesting, while radically rearranging the songs risks losing what made them work in the first place.

Bob Dylan On Piano  finds an attractive way through that problem. Taking familiar Dylan material and filtering it through a jazz-influenced piano style gives songs we may have heard hundreds of times a different texture without treating the originals with undue reverence.

That is important. Dylan himself was never particularly respectful of his own arrangements. Many who have seen him live report the experience of spending the opening bars of a song wondering what on earth it is, only for a familiar lyric suddenly to reveal its identity. His songs have always been things to be worked on rather than museum pieces to be preserved behind glass.

That spirit is very much present here.

The selection ranges across some of the best-known material, including “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” and the unavoidable “Blowin’ in the Wind”, but the pleasure lies less in ticking off the hits than in hearing what happens when the songs are moved into a different musical setting. Piano changes their character. Add elements of jazz — changes of rhythm, phrasing and room for improvisation — and songs rooted in the folk tradition begin to reveal other possibilities.

One moment particularly caught my attention: “With God on Our Side”. I recognised something familiar in the melody which sent me off afterwards on one of those musical historical trails that are almost as enjoyable as the performance itself.

There is quite a story behind it.

Dylan’s melody is very close to that used by Irish writer Dominic Behan for “The Patriot Game”, a song about Fergal O’Hanlon, the young IRA volunteer killed during an attack on Brookeborough RUC barracks in County Fermanagh on New Year’s Day 1957. Behan, in turn, had used an older traditional melody generally traced to “The Merry Month of May”, also known in variants as “One Morning in May”.

Dylan wasn’t entirely coy about the connection either. At the Newport Folk Festival in 1963, he acknowledged that hearing Liam Clancy sing “The Patriot Game” had inspired “With God on Our Side”. Behan was considerably less relaxed about the borrowing and publicly criticised Dylan over it.

It’s a fascinating example of how songs travel. A traditional melody becomes an Irish political ballad; Dylan hears that ballad and reshapes it into an American anti-war song; decades later the song turns up at the Edinburgh Fringe transformed once again through jazz piano.

In a way, that accidental history lesson sums up why

Bob Dylan On Piano  works. Dylan himself borrowed constantly from the musical traditions around him. Folk music, blues, gospel, country and old ballads all went into the mixture. Taking his songs and allowing jazz to have a conversation with them therefore feels less like tampering with Dylan than continuing the process from which much of his music emerged.

The show doesn’t need to lecture us about any of this. Indeed, the connection with “The Patriot Game” wasn’t explained during the performance. I enjoyed discovering it for myself afterwards, after recognising the tune. A good show can sometimes send you away wanting to know more, and this one did.

There is also a pleasing looseness to proceedings. This isn’t Dylan embalmed as a Nobel Prize-winning cultural monument. The songs are allowed to breathe, shift and occasionally surprise us. Familiar lyrics arrive from unfamiliar musical directions.

And then came a bonus.

The appearance of the Tenement Jazz Band for the finale lifted the performance into something more spontaneous. Their contribution brought another layer of energy to proceedings, and the improvised quality of the closing section suited the whole idea beautifully. What could have been simply a recital became, for a while, a musical encounter.

That distinction matters. There are plenty of tribute shows at the Fringe and elsewhere, and many of them are very good at recreating a particular sound. Bob Dylan On Piano is doing something  different. It isn’t asking, “How accurately can we reproduce Bob Dylan?” It is asking what else can be found inside these songs.

For Dylan enthusiasts, there is the pleasure of recognition coupled with the occasional jolt of hearing something familiar take an unexpected turn. For jazz listeners, there is the enjoyment of musicians taking well-established material and finding space within it to play. And for those of us interested in the strange routes by which songs and melodies travel across countries, generations and political movements, “With God on Our Side” provides an intriguing little rabbit hole to disappear down afterwards.

Dylan’s songs have survived because they can take this sort of treatment. They don’t have to remain fixed to the arrangements in which we first encountered them.

Bob Dylan on Piano understands that. It respects Dylan not by preserving his music unchanged, but by doing what Dylan has spent much of his career doing himself: taking songs apart, putting them back together and seeing what happens.

The result is affectionate, inventive and, with the Tenement Jazz Band joining the fun at the end, satisfyingly unpredictable. Dylan fans should find plenty to enjoy here, but you certainly don’t need to be a Dylan obsessive to appreciate it. An interest in jazz, songwriting and the sheer pleasure of musicians discovering new possibilities in old songs will do just as well.

Reviewed by Pat Harrington

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Jazz Age Paris Reimagined: Airlie Scott on Building Eloise’s World

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Paris between the wars has been romanticised so often that it’s easy to forget it was also a city living through uncertainty, occupation, loss and extraordinary change. Paris in the Jazz Age embraces both sides of that story, weaving together music, theatre and memory to revisit an era that still casts a long shadow over popular culture.

Rather than offering a history lesson, the show invites audiences into an intimate Parisian café, where the fictional singer Eloise DeFleur looks back on the people, places and songs that shaped her life. Along the way come gypsy jazz, chanson, early swing and American standards, performed by the acclaimed Hot Jazz Vagabonds, with Airlie Scott at the heart of a production that balances exuberance with quieter moments of reflection.

Ahead of this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, we spoke about creating Eloise, bringing Jazz Age Paris to the stage, blending concert and cabaret, and why music remains such a powerful companion in difficult times with Airlie Scott. the performer at the centre of Paris in a Jazz Age.


Eloise DeFleur’s memoirs guide the entire show. When you first developed this piece, what made this format feel like the right way to explore Jazz Age Paris?

This format evolved naturally during the development process. As I researched the clubs, musicians and singers of the era, including travelling to Paris myself. One of the surprises was discovering how little remains in Montmartre of the vibrant jazz scene that once flourished there.

As I immersed myself in the stories, anecdotes and lives of those who experienced the period firsthand, it felt natural to bring that world to life through the memories of a fictional character. Eloise became our guide: a young English singer living in Paris between the 1920s and 1940s. Through her eyes, we can revisit the clubs, the music and the atmosphere of the time, creating a theatrical framework that allows us to celebrate these wonderful songs while inviting audiences into Eloise’s memories in a Parisian café.

The production moves from the exuberance of the 1920s through Occupation and Liberation. How did you approach capturing such a wide emotional and historical arc within a single, intimate performance?

Naturally, a 55-minute piece can only touch lightly on such an enormously rich and complex period of history. Rather than attempting to tell the whole story, we aim to capture its flavour through the changing sounds, rhythms and emotional textures of the music, set against the wider historical backdrop.

By following the journey of one character through these years, we give audiences both a personal perspective and an emotional anchor. Eloise’s experiences, relationships and losses provide a human context to the events unfolding around her. As an outsider finding her place in Paris, she also offers a colourful and accessible way into this fascinating world and its music.

You’ve been praised for bringing wit, warmth and “champagne sparkle” to Eloise. What qualities does she draw on to make the character feel lived-in rather than nostalgic?

We were incredibly touched by that review. One of the joys of the piece is that Eloise speaks directly to the audience, creating an immediate and personal connection.

I try to remain grounded and present in every performance, responding truthfully to each moment. Having written the character myself also creates a unique connection to Eloise’s emotional and poetic journey, which hopefully allows the character to feel authentic rather than simply nostalgic.

The band blends chanson, gypsy jazz, early swing, blues and American Songbook classics. How do you decide which musical colours belong to which moment in Eloise’s life?

The choices were often guided by historical context but also by songs we already loved, the emotional tone of a particular scene, and the rhythms or tempos required to support each theatrical moment. For example hot jazz, swinging French chanson or an emotional ballad. In most cases, it was a combination of all those factors. We wanted the music to feel both authentic to the era, true to us as a band and dramatically meaningful within Eloise’s journey.

The show sits between cabaret theatre and an authentic jazz gig. What freedoms does that hybrid format give you that a traditional musical wouldn’t?

I love this hybrid format. While it doesn’t have the scale of a full musical, it allows audiences to feel as though they’re sharing an authentic jazz performance while also being drawn into a compelling narrative.

The audience experiences both a concert and a theatrical journey. Most of the characters are evoked through Eloise’s storytelling but at key moments figures from her life emerge more vividly, and members of the band occasionally step into the dramatic world themselves. This interplay between music and theatre creates a unique intimacy and spontaneity that we find incredibly exciting.

Paris in the Années Folles is often romanticised. How do you keep the show grounded in emotional truth while still embracing the glamour audiences expect?

The key is that everything is filtered through Eloise’s personal memories and experiences. She looks back on this period with affection and nostalgia, so some romanticism feels entirely appropriate.

At the same time, her story includes challenges, triumphs and moments of loss. By grounding the glamour in a lived emotional experience, we hope audiences can enjoy the sparkle of the era while still connecting with the humanity beneath it.

The musicians, Pete Watson, David Ahmed, Andy Ruiz Palma and Alan Gibson, have serious jazz credentials. What does their experience bring to the storytelling that actors alone couldn’t achieve?

The show rests on the extraordinary talent, versatility and musicality of The Hot Jazz Vagabonds. Their deep knowledge and passion for this repertoire bring an authenticity that simply couldn’t be replicated otherwise.

Jazz is a living, breathing art form, and these musicians bring spontaneity, atmosphere and emotional depth to every performance. They don’t just accompany the story; they help tell it. I’m constantly in awe of their artistry, and we hope audiences will be too.

The press release mentions resilience as a core theme. How do you express that musically, especially in the sections set during Occupation?

The second half of the show briefly explores some of the realities of life in occupied Paris, including loss, uncertainty and separation. These moments naturally place greater focus on Eloise’s resilience and determination.

Musically, we wanted to reflect not only the hardships of the period but also the enduring power of music itself. The songs remind us how music can provide comfort, connection, escape and hope, even during the most challenging times.

You’re also presenting All Aboard the Jazz Express! at Venue 53. How do the two shows speak to each other, and what makes Paris in the Jazz Age distinct in tone and intention?

The two productions are very much sister shows. All Aboard the Jazz Express! has a lighter, more playful and comedic tone, with a touch of intrigue and a colourful cast of characters, each played by members of the band.

Set aboard a train reminiscent of the Orient Express travelling from Paris to Istanbul, it offers a lively contrast to the more reflective and romantic atmosphere of Paris in the Jazz Age. While both celebrate swinging music and storytelling, anchored in gypsy jazz, they do so in very different ways. We hope audiences will enjoy discovering both sides of our work and comparing the two journeys for themselves.

With a 55-minute runtime, the show is tightly crafted. What do you hope audiences carry with them as they step back out of Surgeons’ Hall? What’s the lingering note you want to leave in the air?

That’s a difficult question because every audience member takes away something slightly different. If I had to choose, I would hope people leave with a deeper appreciation for the brilliance of the music of the era and the resilience and strength of the people who lived through such extraordinary times.

Perhaps most importantly, the show is fun and I hope they leave feeling uplifted. We live in challenging times ourselves, and music still has the same power it always has: to transport us, comfort us, connect us and bring joy in a moment. If audiences leave smiling, humming a tune and feeling lighter than when they arrived, then we’ve done our job.

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