Ingvar's Place was a tiny Uppsala club, snuggled in a waterfront alleyway beside the Fyris River. It never attracted the American big-hitters, but Red Norvo was once seen discarding a Lucky Strike in the doorway (the stub lovingly preserved in a Plexiglass case above the bar). “My dad had lots of records by vibraphonists: Hamp, Milt, Cal Tjader,” Knutsson remembered in his memoir Mallets of the Gods, “He took me to Ingvar's when I was little. He pointed out ‘Norvo's butt’, as it was called. I just stared at it for ages. It seemed to throb with a talismanic power. I was hooked. My path in life was set.” In front of a warmly appreciative – and very forgiving – audience, the quartet open with an original, ‘Swedish Schnoops’. Knutsson is occasionally ham-fisted in attempting more intricate chromatic runs, lacking the mental and physical agility of a Milt Jackson, so that his playing resembles what can only be described as constipated wind chimes. On ‘Spring is Here’ Hrolf Harvardasson's vinegary alto adds little to an ambience of maudlin ineptitude. Then comes the calamitous steeplechase of ‘Marimbassoon’, with the leader switching to marimba and Harvardasson to bassoon. Knutsson is so caught up in his own frantic extemporising that his mallets become detached and can be heard distantly smashing a number of glasses. Next up, Thorbergsdottir and Smoggsson, clearly the more accomplished members of the Four, initiate a beguiling version of ‘Stella by Starlight’, which, in perhaps the oddest episode in a pretty odd evening, is hijacked by Knutsson entering on glockenspiel and playing ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’. Harvardasson, back on alto, then chips in with 14 bars of the 1958 Ritchie Valens hit ‘La Bamba’. “It was a hell of a gig!” recalled Knutsson, “the boiler broke down, the temperature plunged and my glocken was stuck to my spiel all night! That's jazz!”