Charles Ruggiero Plays MONK, Live! at The Baked Potato

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“I used to visit all the very gay places, those come-what-may places, where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life, to get the feel of life…from jazz and cocktails.”

Jazz and cocktails: that, friends, is how to get the “feel of life.” When Billy Strayhorn wrote those lyrics, you could get jazz and cocktails just about anywhere–jazz was the popular music of the day, and Prohibition had ended. Things are obviously a little different now, but people are the same as ever. Wanting to feel alive while enjoying comfort is a desire as old as time, and I’m all for it.

And how does one satisfy that desire in the 21st century? One set of voices would cry out, “You’re halfway there! You’re standing there with the music in hand! Just pour yourself a drink and get on with it!” I’m a fan of those voices. After all, the music in your hand is my record. But there’s another set of voices, and their answer? Jazz clubs. I’m a fan of those voices, too.

Now, I would never tell you that jazz should only be experienced live. Recorded jazz is how I first fell in love with the music, and still the primary way I enjoy it today. But live jazz? Oh, there’s nothing like it–either as a listener or as a player. In fact, that’s the main reason Don Randi opened the Baked Potato Jazz Club. He wanted–scratch that–he needed a place to play jazz every night. You see, Don was a member of the Wrecking Crew, a stable of studio musicians who played on practically every record made in Los Angeles between 1957 and 1973. They were busy every day recording. The Beach Boys, the Carpenters, Simon and Garfunkel, and Frank Sinatra are just a few of the artists they backed; their resume seems endless. But as iconic as those sessions were, Don wanted a place where he, his Wrecking Crew-mates, and his friends could play after work–a place where they could play just what they wanted. 

That place–the Baked Potato–has become one of my favorite places in the world. It’s my home away from home in Los Angeles. The vibe there is impossible to describe; it’s one of those “if-walls-could-talk” places. The list of musicians who have occupied its stage is astounding, in number and caliber. The sound of the room is fantastic, and of course, so are the potatoes (the only food they serve is baked potatoes, but don’t let that fool you. You can get things like chicken Parmesan or Philly cheesesteak, they’re just gonna be in a baked potato.) But as wonderful as all those qualities are, it’s really the staff that makes things hum; they’re the family that make the Baked Potato feel like a home. From Justin Randi–Don’s son and the club’s owner–to the bartenders and waitresses, from the doormen to the sound guys, all the way to the cooks and the porter, they are all aces. 

Justin first called me in 2021 to try a three-month residency and “see where it goes.” I immediately called Mike Gurrola and Bob Reynolds. They’re my dudes. “We’ll just play Monk tunes.” I said. That decision was two-fold. First, because if I did it that way, I wouldn’t have to rehearse a band. I mean, any jazz musician worth their salt knows at least ten Monk tunes. Secondly, and much more importantly, was this: In jazz, drummers (like everyone else) are asked to improvise on the harmonic structure of a song but (unlike everyone else) are generally bereft of any accompaniment. To that point, I’ve always loved playing Thelonious Monk’s music because his melodies and harmonic structures are so strong that even “solo,” I find in them, an endless stream of ideas with little alcoves and alleyways that let me play on the song, and not just on the drums. 

That call from Justin was five years ago, and we’re still going strong. Along with mainstays Mike and Bob, my standing “third Wednesday of every month” has also included Ralph Moore, Eric Revis, Larry Goldings, Mark Turner, Nir Felder, Julius Rodriguez, Jay Jennings, Anthony Wilson, Champian Fulton, Graham Dechter, Julian Pollack, Jeremy Manasia, Barclay Moffitt, Sasha Berliner, Roy Dunlap, Doug Webb, Steve Cotter, Gary Matsumoto, Jacob Scesney, Dennis Hamm, Ruslan Sirota, Jeff Babko, Joshua White, Brian Bromberg, Matt Hornbeck, Jeff Parker, and even Joe LaBarbera. (I did think about trying to have everyone who’s ever done the gig with us join us for a tune as a special guest, but then this record would’ve been three days long and cost about a half a million dollars to make.) 

The residency has evolved since the beginning, and today the musical scope has opened up to include Miles Davis (which lets us play just about anything) as well as my own original music. For this recording though, I wanted to return to the original idea: to play a night of Monk’s music with my friends–and since the “core” of the night has mostly been Bob, Mike, and myself, it felt apropos that we scale back to our original trio. 

As we enter 2026, AI is becoming ubiquitous; and for all its positive applications, its misuse has real world consequences. It’s easy to imagine a future where art has no soul, news has no truth, and companions have no pulse… but the reality is: that future is only possible in the digital landscape. What I see as I travel around the world is jazz clubs full of people. People wanting-scratch that-needing to see and hear art being created right in front of them. People who want to get the “feel of life” from the real of life, from jazz and cocktails…and, in our case, baked potatoes.

Chrles Ruggiero - 2026