I have been trying to catch guitarist/singer/songwriter Raul Midon ever since the buzz on him grew when he was invited to be the opening act for the George Benson-Al Jarreau tour. He played the Jacksonville Jazz Festival last year on a day I had to work so I was thrilled to see that he had been booked again this year. That is, until I saw that he was playing at the same time as the Rippingtons. The schedule was slightly staggered so I could catch Midon then run over and catch a fragment of the Rippingtons' set. After all, I have seen the Rippingtons and the band's spinoffs at least 30 times already. Midon is a spectacular performer and musician and the monologues between songs were a total hoot, but I was fidgeting. I wanted to be at the other stage. It's like I told my friend when I found the seat she had saved me close to the stage – I love everybody else but the Rippingtons are home plate.

It started with a jazzed up cat shaped like a crescent moon on an album cover in 1986. There were lots of artsy album covers back then but this one visually jumped out of the stack and the first track, with the shimmering keyboard playing over nocturnal sound effects, sealed the deal. “Moonlighting” was an amazing track that lead off a whole set of songs by emi-unknowns like Kenny G, David Benoit, Gregg Karukas, Brandon Fields, Steve Reid, and a new guitarist named Russ Freeman. Kilimanjaro came out a few years later. There was that big moon shaped cat again, this time the face was horizontal with a big feline grin and guitar in hand. Contemporary jazz was a lot wilder at the time but Freeman's stun solos on “Dreams of the Sirens” were a benchmark even then. This time Dave Koz, Jimmy Haslip, and super session players Vinnie Colaiuta and David Garfield were in the lineup. It was still not officially a band but it was beginning to morph into one and GRP - the emerging c-Jazz power label - picked them up and released Tourist In Paradise with Carl Anderson's joyous shout in the title track summing up the entire mood of the album. By the time Curves Ahead came out I had done something I promised myself I would never do. I got back into radio, taking a job at an adult oriented top 40 station in my hometown. When I was promoted to Music Director I inherited the job of picking the music for  the Sunday morning jazz brunch show and it seemed like the best way to get more of an audience for that show was to shed the bebop and play more music that sounded like the Rippingtons. A few hardcore purists may have been annoyed but the station's regular listeners were discovering a new type of music and starting to tune in. The ratings took a healthy jump then the band played live here and it went over the top.

It was a hot  Saturday afternoon in October at the Jacksonville Jazz Festival when the Rippingtons hit the stage. The venue was by the river, the sun was out, the vibe was tropical and the crowd had no idea what they were in for. Percussionist Steve Reid was dressed in hot colors and spinning in the center of an array of shiny gadgets that made sounds. Jeff Kashiwa, on sax, was stylin'  in black with shoulder length hair flying in the air. Bassist Kim Stone looking boho and funky at the same time, Mark Portmann was on keyboards anchoring all those textures, and Tony Morales was going aerobic on the drum kit. Russ Freeman stood front and center playing fast and furious rock star guitar licks. This was around the time radio shows started saying “not your father's jazz” and what those guys did onstage defined that side of the genre. In short, they rocked, bringing everyone to their feet for a series of standing ovations. Then those people started searching for that music on the radio, the found our show, and our ratings went through the ceiling.  Because I was in charge I was an almost famous radio person for several years and the city I live in began their musical love affair with the Rippingtons.

They have returned many times since then. Two years later they clinched a headliner slot playing on a Friday evening and making a crowd of people forget that the sky was dumping buckets of rain as they played. Then Steve Reid’s spinoff group, Bamboo Forest, which featured most of the Rippingtons lineup, started spending so much time in Florida it seemed like they should pack up their California hats and move here. They didn't but Freeman did, relocating from Denver to South Florida a few years later. There was a concert promoter 150 miles south of me who fell in love with them the same time I did. Our long term friendship began on that shared affection. He brought Bamboo Forest and Jeff Kashiwa's bands into small clubs and beachside venues and promoted several big Rippingtons concerts. Pleasure Island Jazz Company at Disney World did too. Steve Oliver showed up as Bamboo Forest's new guitarist at one of these shows and everyone fell in love with him. When Oliver and Kashiwa went solo, Blake Aaron and Will Donato filled out Bamboo Forest and Paul Taylor and Eric Marienthal started gigging with the Rippingtons. As the Internet became more active lots of friendships were formed around this fandom and we burned the Florida interstates up driving to and from gigs to see the band and to see each other.

Over time these concerts and album releases have been the backdrop for things that happened in my life. Someone broke up with me at a Rippingtons concert and someone else proved they were too dangerous to get closer to by acting like a total jerk at a Rippingtons concert. I was bitten by a brown recluse spider and still dragged my feverish self to a concert where I had to stand in the corner because I couldn't sit on the golf ball sized welt where the bite was. I drove home late after a south Florida gig, blew a tire on the interstate and discovered my spare was also flat. I spent the night in the tire store parking lot far away from home drowning out the street noise with Ripps music on my iPod. I lost a radio show and found another one because of a friend who loved this band. Friendships ebbed and rekindled in waves of busy-ness and the economy hit both radio and publishing hard, leaving lots of us underemployed as layoffs hit the industry. We got older and didn't wander as much because of kids in college, parents who needed extra care and just the basic overwhelming demands of life in the 21st century.

The Rippingtons kept making music and playing live gigs. When the music smoothed out they adapted but they never compromised. Freeman always had an ear for commercial music and he may have given the radio powers-that-be some more urban and sensual grooves but you knew there were going to be some searing solos and slammin' sax on the deeper tracks. The lineup changed, some players left, some came back. They changed record companies, outlasting GRP and Windham Hill Jazz and landing on Russ' own label, Peak, which is tied into Concord, a heritage label that seems destined to ride out the storm. They put out a few albums that I wasn't crazy about but always followed up with one that I loved. When you're talking about a 25 year career there is no way that everyone is going to love everything you do. The fans that were around for the early albums are bringing their kids and even grandkids to the shows. Instead of fading out like the boomer bands on the revival tours this group is adding new generations of fans by evolving, experimenting and expanding their horizons.
 
It is 2012 and I am again at the Jacksonville Jazz Festival getting sunburn and watching the Rippingtons just like I did on a Saturday afternoon 21 years ago. This time I am with a friend that I met because we kept showing up at the same concerts. They are winning over another crowd with a set that hits the favorites and showcases some new music too. How someone can come up with a set list when there are so many fan favorites to choose from is beyond me but they always do.  There is a new album coming out in August. It has the trademark jazz cat chiseled in stone on Mt. Rushmore. After the set, Freeman said it was going to be like nothing we had heard before from this band. It is called Built to Last. I think that says it all.