I don’t really know what to say about this concert. The gist of my feelings could be summed up like this:

It was an enjoyable show, but my mind tended to wander causing the music to become background noise.

Or I could say:

A world-renowned jazz keyboardist played a bunch of songs I don’t know on solo piano.

But that’s way to short for any type of review. I should fill it out with a few details. Maybe something like:

Chick Corea played a solo piano show last Saturday night at the beautiful Shanghai Oriental Art Center. For nearly three hours he dazzled the audience with an excellent performance. He performed before a small, but enthusiastic crowd for nearly three hours over two sets.

But that is still a little short, and none too interesting so I’ll try to punch it up with some background information on my own experience with jazz.

While I might tell the person on the street that I like jazz, and I might add the genre to my Facebook profile, I am by no means an expert on that particular brand of music. I dig the vocalists like Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday and I own discs by Louis Armstrong and love Kind of Blue by Miles Davis.

Sometimes I even feel adventurous and listen to things like concert bootlegs from John Coltrane or Bitches Brew from Miles. Not often mind you, but enough to pretend I have a little street cred.

I came to the concert knowing the name of Chick Corea and his influential stint with Miles Davis during his electric fusion period, but outside of that I know nothing of his work. That is to say I haven’t the slightest idea what he’s been doing the last 30 odd years.

That’s better, but where is it going?

When I first heard Chick was coming to Shanghai (the day before the show, actually) I was both very excited that such a legend was coming to my neck of the world and a little apprehensive about what he would play. Would my wife be able handle a couple of hours of electrified, amplified noise? Would I?

But I just had to go. Chick is a legend. And I have missed too many legendary concerts — and regretted it — to miss another. Plus it was a chance to make Mark Saleski jealous, and you really shouldn’t pass that up. Ever.

We went not knowing if we’d even be able to even get tickets. Luckily there were plenty left and we grabbed some of the cheap seats, up high and a little behind the main stage. Moments after arriving we were moved out of our seats by the usher, as was everyone in our section. Having no idea what was being said by anybody, or what was going on we just followed.