Aquintet
The Cannon
New Haven
March 1, 2026
Aquintet — Addison Thompson on saxophone, Steve Farrell on trumpet, Chris Morrison on guitar, Morris Trent on bass, and Alan Bates on drums —blasted off at full speed from its first note at at their weekly gig at the Cannon on Dwight Street on Sunday evening, Thompson and Farrell in joyous unison on the melody while the rhythm section surged beneath them. Farrell took the first solo, then nodded in approval as Morrison took his turn.
"Give it up for Chris Morrison on guitar!" Farrell shouted to the crowd, which responded with applause. Trent took his own journey across the changes on bass. The band then traded measures with ease, each throwing their own ideas into the musical conversation and getting new ideas from the other bandmates in return. A sense of unhurried camaraderie suffused the music, which ended with a flourish, to healthy applause.
Aquintet has been holding down the Sunday night slot at the Cannon for almost two years, but its origins reach farther back than that, into New Haven's long-running jazz scene. Farrell and Thompson met 20 years ago at the Saturday jazz jam at Cafe Nine and have been playing together ever since. "All these other guys have played at it, too," Farrell said. Morrison and Trent have been playing together for years, as have Morrison and Bates. "So the group is pretty cohesive," Farrell said.
Two years ago they caught wind that Cannon owner Kevin McCarthy was looking for live music a few nights a week. "So Kevin hired us to play on Sunday nights. Then we do Cafe Nine the fourth Saturday of the month. And then we do other gigs around the state," Farrell said.
The Sunday night gig was "kind of quiet when we first started," but then "more people started to come," and there are now "a bunch of regulars," Farrell said. "It's an interesting crowd, an eclectic crowd." It's also "an offshoot of the Cafe Nine crowd."
In a deeper sense, it's a continuation of a jazz scene that reaches back generations. Musician and former club owner James "Dinky" Johnson stopped in a few times to hear Aquintet play before his death in 2025, Farrell said. Farrell also crossed paths with Bobby Mapp, the drummer from the Five Satins, who played on "In the Still of the Night" when it was recorded in 1956 in the basement hallway of St. Bernadette's in Morris Cove.
"The jazz history here is incredible," Farrell said.
To Farrell, the success of the night now is testament to McCarthy's willingness to stick it out. "Kevin has invested a lot of money into live music," Farrell said, noting that McCarthy is a musician himself.
By the look of things on Sunday evening, the investment has paid off. As the tables filled with patrons, an intergenerational mix of families and friends, Aquintet swung into another number, with Thompson taking the first solo, turning it into a phrased workout. As Thompson passed the solo on to Morrison, Farrell sat in the middle, listening with intent, nodding with approval, and cheering his bandmates on. He was always the first to applaud for a solo, compelling the crowd to do likewise as he shouted out their names.
Morrison's, Trent's, and Bates's years of playing together showed, as they effortlessly locked in together whether they were driving forward to swinging back, peppering their solid grooves with harmonic flavor and tasty fills and accents. Moments of intense communication among them, as they picked up textures and rhythms, earned them spontaneous applause and a few trips by patrons to the tip jar, all the proof needed that the audience was listening hard, too. Trent's and Bates's rock-solid foundation let the soloists relax and take off. A fan in a baseball hat and jersey bowed to the band as they played and shook hands with the soloists when they weren't playing.
"Imagine if we rehearsed," Farrell deadpanned. "We'd be pretty great."
The band ripped into its third tune with Bates hitting the tempo hard, the rest riding in his wake. Farrell laughed, delighted with Thompson's solo outing. Morrison's solo drew cheers from the audience. One patron raised his fist in the air when Morrison was done. Farrell mimed fanning Morrison with a breeze.
"Anybody got a fire extinguisher to put that out?" he said.
Aquintet also showed they could slow it down on a deep, lazy ballad, the phrasing loose and free. A kid, there with his family, approached the tip jar and put in a bill. He got high fives from other patrons as he returned to his seat, a member of the next music generation.
