All the tables and chairs at the Club Social were taken.
People sitting right in front of the stage listened quietly, intently. A girl sitting a bit further to the right of the stage had her eyes closed and was swaying to the music; she held her back very straight, and so she seemed to be focusing on the music, letting it sink in.

For a change only music took center-stage. No big shot personalities, no words and claims and pointing fingers and raised voices. Ziad Rahbani was so well hidden by the piano, the other musicians, and the pillars on each side of the stage that you could see his feet keeping the beat, and nothing else. Words were only necessary to announce a short intermission, to introduce the musicians, and to ask people in the club "to give the music a chance" (there were too many people who kept carrying on normal conversations while the musicians played). Some pieces were dreamy and contemplating, others lively and happy. The notes, the saxophone and the piano captured me and carried me from one song to the next, and consoled me and gave me some peace.
--Birdog

featuring the Ziad Rahbani on the Piano