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“Now it’s jazz, the place is roaring…” the children in the distance, ghostlike figures appearing and disappearing, in and out of focus, racing their bikes in the crowd on and on and on, till everybody is a winner. The band, testing, then giving in to the crowd. “It’s the beat of the heart”. You look around and see people you’ve known, people you don’t know, stolen smiles under the light and the mucic, eye contact, then, words exchanged and the music plays on. “He has a face like everybody you’ve even known”, collective glimpses of people of the past. And you’re held under the spell of the music…