Divine Society

Listening to records and music in general has long been a favorite pastime of mine. Music will save a dying person, I truly believe that. I was never a big fan of jazz music growing up because it seemed hard to relate to without lyrics.

That never stopped my dad from playing his preferred jazz tunes and even at times listening to the local jazz station. When I was about 35, I received a box of records that belonged to my dad, who had passed away about 20 years prior.

That is when I fell in love with jazz and music without lyrics. Stanley Turrentine, The Crusaders, and Ramsey Lewis took me on many a journey. Somewhere between the crackle of vinyl and the spaces between the notes, I realized jazz was never missing language at all. I just hadn’t learned how to hear it yet. And when I became a songwriter, that understanding expanded even more. I began to recognize that sometimes the feeling behind the music matters even more than the words themselves.

Over the weekend, I attended the Province 8 monthly third Saturday Jazz Show featuring Merlot Music at the Foundation Room inside House of Blues Houston, and that understanding came right on back to me.

Jazz may not have lyrics, but it absolutely tells a story and has its own language. The night unfolded into three separate conversations. The first featured the incomparable Brook B. an R & B vocalist with an impressive melody and vibrato, and The StonHouse band that opened for the jazz men. The R & B set ended with an impeccable rendition of Earth, Wind & Fire’s Fantasy.

Tahree Amir and Synesthesia, entered the stage with an energy that felt safe and easy but their set sounded anything but. This set felt like stepping directly into emotion itself. The musicians communicated with each other in real time, almost as if they were finishing each other’s sentences through instruments instead of words. The drummer. The bass man, and Tahree with the keys and the trumpet. Each one, chef’s kiss. Every solo felt intentional, like someone speaking from experience rather than performance. Synesthesia reminded me that jazz is not random chaos, it is trust, instinct, and conversation.

By the time Ronnie Coleman Jr. joined Merlot Music for the final set, the room felt fully alive. Coleman, a seasoned Grammy-nominated performer and bandleader, opened the set by laying down a few house rules that ensured the audience would stay engaged and connected to what the band was about to do. Communication like that matters, especially when there may not be many words spoken during the performance itself.

The musicians blended jazz, soul, blues, gospel, and rhythm into something that felt both deeply personal and communal at the same time. Merlot Music has clearly spent years playing together in sync, and it shows. When I restarted my foray into public relations in 2023, I booked them for a client event, and the rest was history, I was hooked.

As each band member used their instrument to deliver musical medicine and tell us a thing or two, we were taken on a multitude of journeys and pulled into several conversations at once. Joshua Walker on saxophone was remarkable. Marvan E. Alexander, aka Mr. Drumhead, wowed the crowd with his Tiffany blue drumsticks and undeniable rhythm. And stealthily, almost like a whisper on bass, Kerry Mike kept heads nodding and feet tapping all night long. That’s what live music is supposed to do.

What I understand now, after years of listening differently, is that jazz absolutely has a language. It just doesn’t rely on lyrics to speak. It speaks through tension and release. Through rhythm. Through memory. Through feeling. Through what could never be spoken.

And maybe that’s why it hits so deeply when it finally reaches you, because the music asks you to feel first and interpret later.

To learn more about these events and buy tickets for the next one follow Province 8 Art Studio here.

Do you have an event coming up and you’d like me to cover it? Send an email to sheba@mscreativeaf.com or learn more about me and my business at www.mscreativeaf.com