Where the hell does Quincy Blaque come from? Nobody knows for sure. Some say his first gig as a kid was tying Duke Ellington’s shoelaces and filling in when the calliope player was too drunk. Some say that’s a lie. Some say years ago he had a minor hit on a major label, went out on a tour of the Kit Kat Clubs of the world and just never came back. Some say that’s a lie. Some say he lost his mind and spent the last twenty years writing and rewriting a theme song for his tailor, who died. But what we don’t know for sure is that he was the only forgotten son of Clarence and Aileen Blaque, curators of a traveling freak show with the Bourbon Brothers Circus. He later went to The Conservatory of Minimalist Piano in Tunisia where he studied invisible chords, majored in pathos and excelled in falling down. Nevertheless the Quincy Blaque Trio is here with a new collection of songs. Rita Pea, the percussive half of the trio and Quincy’s longtime collaborator and handler, readily shares the blame for what Quincy describes as dark lullabies and dabbling in the truth.