A couple of weeks back I shoehorned myself into a heaving sweaty Vortex to hear thye John Taylor trio plus Julian Arguelles. The mix of impressionism and bucolic pezzaz from JA worked boggingly well-1st set closed with a bonkers yet subtle Fats Waller/Zappaish tearup.  JT's recent commission about Kurt Vonnegut had this revitalised quality too. The album, minus Arguelles is Whirlpool. Particularly inspiring to see a man of 65 having come through a bereavement firing on all cylinders in the middle of a stygian east end january night. Its Palle Daniellson on Bass, a driving Martin France on drums (how that man subdivides his subdivisions, a perfect foil to JT). If I hadnt been so knackered I would have ventured a word as they perforce weaved through the crowd-a quartet of unassuming genius.

'twas indeed, Tinners-kind of sublime musical counterpart to the long sentences of a Talcott Parsons-but here the digressions are subtle and vital. The prob with the Vortex now is you need to book ahead and preferably adopt a yoga position amidst the heat reflected off the metal ceiling in a room maybe an eighth of the size of the old Stoke Newington one.But the music,well...