Jazz is a dying breed.

Since the '60s, jazz has slowly waned from its once-influential role in society to a less-than-prominent high school extracurricular. So when I approached Jazz Alley in downtown Seattle, shivering in the 10-degree weather, I wasn't sure what to expect — but I had a few ideas.

The exterior could have been that of any swanky or underground club. Entering though the glass double doors I was greeted with low lights and a bird's-eye view of the joint, my first impression tending more toward swanky than dirty underground.

My guest and I were escorted to the main floor and given a choice of seating. As we hemmed and hawed about where to sit, we realized that there was no bad seat in the house and opted for a small booth toward the back, with a slightly elevated view.

From that point on there were two things I began to understand about successfully executing your first trip to a jazz establishment: Expect nothing certain, and bring a friend who knows jazz. These were the two most prominent thoughts in my head while taking in the culture that is Jazz Alley.

The venue was what my accomplice called a perfect size. It wasn't so big that the sound was lost, and it wasn't so small that you were "blown away," as he described. The high ceilings added to both the acoustics and the atmosphere of the place. To keep the house dark, the tables and most of the interior was black, which created a clean and refined look.

The stage was highlighted with well-chosen colorful lights and had a less-than-ordinary backdrop of a deep (maybe velvet) curtain, which angled from the stage to the ceiling. This warmed up the performance area quite well.

What I found particularly satisfying was the "mood" lighting. Devoid of the cliché romantic-candle décor, the soft lighting was provided by mini lamps on every table. Aww, how cute.

The show, which revealed itself to be a soft-jazz performance (one of the many things I was not expecting), was accompanied by a wait service, which was subtle, yet prompt. Dinner was a bit on the pricey side, but the drinks were right on, and the desserts were to die for.

The addition of appetizing food and drink at a place such as this was a relief, as often nice places slack in these areas, with over-priced and under-flavored food.

Beyond the intimate space of Jazz Alley, the show itself made me turn a smile or two on the night. Something my friend explained about jazz, which was present during the performance, made the genre particularly appealing to me.

Jazz musicians like to "play tricks" on their audience. Often they would wind out of a song, the stage would go silent, and after a few nervous claps they would grow back into the same piece.

Looking around at the attendees of the night, I realized my guest and I were the only young guns of the group. While I may have felt a little out of place at first, my ultimate feeling was that of disappointment. Knowing of an entire culture unattended by my generation is tragic.

Not only is jazz a nice alternative to hazy house parties every weekend, it's something nicely different from the college norm.

So, here's one piece of advice for your usual Saturday nights (or any day of the week for that matter) — jazz 'um up.

— Jen Ludington

jenludington@thedaily.washington.edu.