By Stan Burnett

Two nights every week, small throngs of New-Yorkers-in-the-know crowd an unmarked staircase leading to the second floor of a Mexican restaurant on 54th Street, seeking not just to go one flight up, but also to go eighty years back in time.

They arrive at a usually-packed night club setting from another era. Up on the stand is an 11-piece band in tuxedos, the players standing for solos or section ensembles, just as in an earlier time, and dominated from the back row by a big-boned, square-jawed handsome whirlwind of energy named Giordano, who is surrounded by his bass, his tuba, and his (fairly rare) bass saxophone.

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Fonte: La Voce di New York