Musicians Society of San Antonio

Sometimes it seems as if virtually every one of San Antonio's jazz scene stories has, as its origin, a casual encounter with Kyle Keener, the superb drummer and singer we lost Tuesday.  Musician after musician will relate a strikingly consistent narrative—I was a novice who didn’t know a dominant flat-13th from a hunk of sharp cheddar; this poised and accomplished master of time and space invited me into his realm, showed me what was truly possible, bucked me up when I was flailing in flop sweat, kept my wig straight, and managed to elevate me without ever talking down to me.   Even those of us who’d already done a few laps around the block by the time we met Kyle experienced some variation on this theme.  Shortly after arriving here, when asked by a local luminary how I was settling in, I mentioned my excitement at having been asked to sit in by Kyle and his Small World alter ego Polly Harrison.  “Oh, they ask everyone to play,”   countered my new acquaintance.  In the