Lonnie Simmons, 76 and playing strong, rides high above his Yamaha organ at Biasetti’s Steak House. It’s a Thursday night at the neighborhood restaurant-bar on Irving Park Road near Ashland. The air is thick with the smell of char-grilled steaks, live cigarettes, and powerful perfume.
Most of the pictures are from Lonnie’s big-band days 40 years ago, when he was a regular on the east-coast club circuit. A few snapshots are from Chicago’s elegant old Club De Lisa and from his steady solo gig at the Edgewater Hotel. When the hotel met the wrecking ball in 1967, Lonnie had some time on his magic hands, so he agreed to do a two-week stint at Biasetti’s. Two weeks turned into 23 years.
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Lonnie concludes his high-spirited interlude and settles into “Satin Doll.” As his hands caress the organ, he holds the low notes long enough to leave a pleasant reverberation in listeners’ rib cages. He beats the hell out of church music.
“I love to play. It’s my hobby,” he says. “But I get most of my money from renting out my 14 organs and six electric pianos”–equipment he has been known to single-handedly deliver and install. “Give me a dolly and I can do the work of six union laborers,” he says with a chuckle.
After a leisurely break, Simmons climbs nimbly back to his performing perch. The crowd quiets.
