Local jazz has taken some lumps lately; it seems only fair that local jazz coverage should share in the slings and arrows. In both cases it’s been Aaron Myers who fought back.

Case in point, here we are. And here you are.

Jazz journalism was not Aaron’s motivation in assembling DCistNow. Not his primary motivation, anyway. (At least I don’t think so.) But he is a jazz musician, so he and this enterprise of his certainly have a vested interest in the enterprise that they are succeeding. “There’s no way this site is launching without a jazz component!” he wrote to me when he asked me to write this.

Who am I to deny that?

As our last non-piece-of-shit president used to say, “Let me be clear.” I don’t, at this writing, expect to have a permanent home here. As you might imagine, this site is still kind of a work in progress; some things are still being worked out. But as far as I know, this seat belongs to Sriram Gopal—my friend, colleague, and former music editor at DCist—if he wants and can take it. I’m just here keeping it warm for him. And I expect things will be moving, and changing, fast for a little while here.

But it’s nice to be here. It’s nice for there to be a “here” at which to be.

Now then.

Aaron suggested that I hit you with a jazz update, or some hot breaking news. But what can be hotter breaking news than that a jazz musician is attempting to rescue DCist from the jaws of non-existence? Seriously, no asskissing involved: If I were breaking jazz news this week, that’s hard to top.

So let me give you a pick for the week, and in doing so I’ll re-tell a favorite (apocryphal) story.

You probably know about Chris Botti, the slick, smooth, pop-jazz trumpeter of the sort who gets Sting to sing on his records and who guests with Boston Pops. The truth is he’s capable of much more challenging stuff, for himself and for his audience, and he has done quite a bit of it, including some jazz fusion that has real teeth to it. But the story goes that in 1985, at 22, he made his way to New York with the intention of being a badass bebop trumpeter. That he wanted to be the guy who cut them all to ribbons at the jam sessions. But after just a few years, he had to change direction when he heard the real guy who cut ‘em all to ribbons at the jam sessions. That guy was a teenager, a kid, named Roy Hargrove.

Hargrove is indeed one of the baddest cats ever to pick up a trumpet. He is a bop man, but he can also do big band music, soul, hip-hop-inspired stuff, and has even dabbled in the complicated dynamic known as M-Base. He also wrote what I consider possibly the greatest jazz tune of the 21st century, “Strasbourg/St. Denis.” And he’s playing six nights this week at Blues Alley.

But being at Blues Alley isn’t the only local angle to this pick. For one thing, two fifths of his quintet are Washingtonian: that’d be bassist Ameen Saleem and drummer Quincy Phillips, the core of Hargrove’s rhythm section, and so right there you get the deep D.C. pocket along with the trumpet pyrotechnics.

And for another thing? Well, it’s no secret that Roy still loves—and I mean loves—to hit the jam sessions. If history is any indication, he’ll be on the prowl for at least one once he wraps it up in Georgetown. So go on Wednesday, and slip the word to him about the jam at Mr. Henry’s that night. Or on Saturday, and tell him to stop by Sunday night’s Brixton jam before his hit. You can even tell him about the gigs at JoJo that tend to turn into jams. It’s two shows (at least) for the price of one!

The Roy Hargrove Quintet performs Tuesday thru Sunday at 8 and 10 p.m. at Blues Alley, 1073 Wisconsin Avenue NW. $50, and worth every penny.