The song was introduced by a powerful punching drum solo, only this time it was played with brushes. The three ladies were squeezed between the piano and the rear wall.
Despite the lack of space, they managed to put some real rhythm into their dance. “Bring me a higher love,” they sang. The audience responded with shouts of approval.
Initially, Connor and the ladies sang while Ian carried the melody on his own and the drummer beat out the strident tempo. Then the sax player added a tambourine, and the bass player lifted a steel-beaded swivel called a cabasa. Midway through the first verse, the ladies added castanets and maracas.
By the time they reached the first refrain, Connor and the bassist and the sax player could easily drop their percussion instruments and start playing, because the audience was clapping and beating time. Gradually, tables rose to their feet and danced in place. They shouted in time to the ladies.Bring me a higher love.
Danny’s two cameramen stood on short stepladders, swaying in time as they shot the band, the crowd, the night. The producer and Arthur and the techies stood behind the bar, grinning and singing with the crowd.
Which was when it all came together for Ian. This sort of experience had once been a given, reaching a point in every session where he took a giant step away from the event and melded with his music. Only this was the first such experience he had known in over a year, and the impact was monumental. There was no crowd, no cameras, not even the band or the singers as individuals. It was just the one entity, totally unified, utterly focused. “Bring me a higher love,” the ladies sang, and Ian never wanted the song to end.
And yet end it did. The crowd stood and shouted and applauded and whistled. Ian brought the night back into focus, in time to catch Connor’s eye and share the night’s first smile.
