Man, wish I bought the CD

Everytime I hear old 1930s French Jazz (you know, with the guitar, the piano, the madeline peyroux/squirrel nut zippers sound), I keep thinking of this jazz quartet playing in the Ramblas area, by the El Corte Ingles, in Barcelona. Three of the musicians were in their late 20s, and the trombone player was easily in his early 50s. They rocked. Saw them on my last day in town, after drinking a pitcher of Sangria at BaBaReBa on Paseig de Gracia (and eating one of the best bowls of Gazpacho that I've ever tasted). Whilst walking back to our hotel, located just off the Ramblas, Ash and I passed through the Placaya Catalunya and caught something that sounded antique, as if it was playing from an old 78. The band was jamming, but not in a cool jazz or blues type way, they were hopping. Beats were fast and tight, but not overbearing. Band had rolled out an upright on the street, and the piano player was plucking the keys in an off-syncopated, near Thelonious Monk, time with the upright bass. Old man trombone player joined in with one of those things that go into the horn to perfectly distort the sound. They were jamming like this for a minute or so, and then the bald headed singer began. He sang through his eyes and nose, creating that nasally jazz sound from the 30's. Ash and I sat there for about 5 minutes, grooving to a couple of songs. I tossed in a couple of euro, but chose not to buy their CD (on sale for 10 euro). Those five minutes were among the most perfect moments in Barcelona, and it kills me that I never bought that goddamned CD.