Kesivan Naidoo and the jazzy big band that marches to the triumphant beat of his commanding drum

The Market Theatre foyer is packed to the rafters. I know this because I’m still outside with the merrily thronging throngs of people waiting to get in.

The vibe is thick in the wintry air, and it’s a good vibe, smiles and grins and winks abound. Sprinkled among the crowds are familiar and famous faces — music organisers, producers, musicians and magazine editors, everyone thickly layered in their favourite winter repellent.

Inside the auditorium the stage is bedecked in a brightly burst rainbow, visually reminding me of one of Kesivan Naidoo’s previous bands, Kesivan and the Lights. The hum has quietened down while people find their seats, but it’s still there, lending electricity to the air. When the band finally gets to the stage the audience erupts as one, easing the merry tension that’s been building from outside.

And what a band — 18 strong and made up for the most part of young South African greats (augmented by some very fine Swiss and German musicians, some known to South African jazz lovers through their contributions to local musicians’ catalogues).

Kyle Shepherd graces the piano; here’s brilliant vocalist and trombonist Siya Makuzeni; there’s Reza Khota, one of this country’s best and most innovative guitarists.

The concert begins with a cinematic introduction, with the high energy reminiscent of old-school Hollywood show tunes. Around six minutes in, I make a note that it’s always a good thing when heads in the orchestra stand are bopping along to the music when not playing. Smiles are exchanged between musicians, feet perpetually tapping.

The adjective “perpetual” is apt, as all the compositions seem to have a dynamo at heart, are to varying degrees propellent, tipped at a slight or giddy forward-leaning angle that is unflagging. These are drummer’s compositions, and it tells.

And Naidoo is no mere good drummer. He is sonically generous and in your face, always laid-back in physical demeanour behind the drum set, while his blur of hands and feet slip effortlessly from cheerful groove to all-out assault to filigree intensity and back, a casually masterful musician.

 We’ve known this since long before his trek to America, fronting Kesivan and the Lights and appearing in such exciting bands as Babu and Closet Snare, since before The Lights planted a South African flame at the famed Carnegie Hall in New York and he began sitting in and studying with jazz legends such as Joe Lovano and Wayne Shorter.

Throughout the big band’s cheerful chops the atmosphere in the audience crackles. The merry tension I noted at the start of the gig never abates, merely shifts and stretches, frequently but only temporarily sated by bursts of applause or excited whoops. A friend whispers not too softly into my ear that this feels like a rock concert, and I get what she means.

Most serious jazz venues, like Naidoo’s own hallowed The Mahogany Room, later Straight No Chaser, are hushed spaces. There is a concerted silence in the audience as their ears respectfully follow every minute shift, every dazzling crescendo of the improvised compositions.

Only the occasional whoop or yelp is condoned, everyone knowing that the eruption is that of someone unable to contain their delight at a particularly striking or ingenious turn of phrase or musical resolution.

Tonight is a very different affair. Everyone is respectful, but the whoops and shout-outs come thick and fast. They’re taken in the band’s stride; the players understand the intention. For his part, Naidoo grins after nearly every holler from the electric audience, occasionally responding with a chuckle. Festivity is the name of the evening.

Throughout the compositions, arranged from selections of Naidoo’s back catalogue by the much-respected Switzerland-based horn player Adrian Mears — who has collaborated locally with the likes of Carlo Mombelli — Naidoo’s drumsticks are coolly assertive, directing the flow of audio tributaries from sudden Ellingtonian swells to high-definition lyricism.

Adrian Mears, originally from Australia and now a resident in Switzerland, was conductor and arranger, and featured on trombone. (Photo: Jonathon Rees)

What’s it like being back in South Africa?

Tell us about the conception of your big band

Any recordings we can expect?