Zoya Haq photo
Jim Olbrys (center) jams with crowd volunteers.
Few things scream happiness more than sunny days, mellow music, and a killer happy hour deal. On Friday at Three Sheets, thanks to the surf-synth jazz of Jim Olbrys and his performance trio, you could, blissfully, get all three.
The New Haven Jazz Underground’s Friday Night Jazz series is a staple of the monthly performance lineup at Three Sheets, located on the corner of Howe and Elm streets. Every first and third Friday of the month, local jazz acts take to the stage in the bar-turned-concert-venue, bringing the space to suave and soulful life. The headliner performs from 6 to 7 p.m. After 7, the stage opens up to the crowd, who are encouraged to bring their instruments and jam with the performers.
On stage with Olbrys Friday were Steve Clarke on bass and Jerry Cambria on drums. The door to the bar’s outdoor patio was open; a light, warm breeze wafted in. As laughter chimed from different corners of the venue, the performers leaned back and into the music, which felt mostly improvisational as a listener. Clarke and Olbrys periodically made eye contact and smiled.
Olbrys, with his butter-yellow guitar and laid-back demeanor, emulated the relaxed summer nostalgia that his music evoked. Clad in a blue checkered shirt and Chacos, he settled into the stage like it was his backyard porch. His notes were smooth, his playing fluid; rather than wrestle for control, Olbrys let the guitar speak for itself.
Meanwhile, Clarke’s rhythmic bassline echoed throughout the room, instantly identifiable and undeniably cutting. Every shift in his bass rhythm was coupled with a look of joyful surprise on his face — he was having fun with every new twist and turn Olbrys led the band towards. His playing, unlike Olbrys’ mellower approach, was fiery, intentional, enunciated.
Cambria’s meditative drumbeats kept the band in tow. Throughout the set, I found myself tapping my foot to his catchy rhythm.
As I sat in the crowd, I felt like I was situated at a perfect genre-based crossroads, witnessing the intersection between the soulful jazz that has defined New Haven since the 1960s and a more modern, surf-like approach to the genre that captures the city’s coastal, sea-salted spirit.
To lead guitarist Olbrys, the guitar is a lifelong hobby — and jazz is a lifelong lifeline.
“In high school, jazz became this hip, intellectual, deeper type of music than pop,” Olbrys told me after the show. “I loved it, so I ended up enrolling in a jazz program at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston.”
Olbrys later moved to New York to try to break into the jazz circuit there. That path proved to be a “tough sell,” he said, so he found a new rhythm — running a Stratford-based window treatment business, Clear Design LLC, by day and playing gigs around New Haven by night.
Olbrys began supporting the New Haven Jazz Underground in the early days of founder Nick DiMaria’s efforts to energize the local scene. “I started contributing with a monthly donation,” Olbrys said. “Then, as a natural offshoot of being a supporter, I began playing a few shows and jams here and there.”
Friday’s show marked Olbrys’ first at Three Sheets this year. For the first hour of the show, the harmony between the three players on the stage was visible, palpable. “We didn’t even rehearse,” Olbrys said. “I’ve played with Steve a lot, but I hadn’t really played with Jerry that often, so that was awesome.”
Then came the signature moment of any New Haven Jazz Underground night: “Open jam, now! Any takers?”
After a request for a song by the Beatles from the crowd and a period of silence, an unassuming drummer stood up in the crowd.
“You’re jazz trained?” Olbrys asked.
He nodded.
“Well, come on up! Jerry, you’re going to have to step aside.”
The beauty of the jazz jam is that it is not only unrehearsed, but entirely self-creating — jazz, as a form, depends on improvisation, an attentive ear, and a shared musical intuition.
A rotating crew of musicians took to the stage as the night progressed. A young saxophone player riffed with Olbrys, bringing a renewed energy to the room. A teenage drummer held the beat for one song. A bespectacled bassist laid down a smooth groove below Olbrys’ soothing notes.
The final notes of the night faded out gently, like before — less a bang than a fizzle, without much fanfare. The evening wound down, one note at a time. The sun had long set, but the warm July breeze still drifted through the open door, filling the room with the soft afterglow of a set well played.