Rob Mullins

It seems that Rob Mullins, an incessantly grinning keyboardist from Colorado, is more interested in the technology of music than the music itself. Armed with five keyboards, a mile or two of cable, a stack of computer discs and a host of other electronic gadgetry, the lanky Mullins programmed an overly long first set Tuesday night at the Alley Cat Bistro in Culver City. Better he would have played it. There were several indications that Mullins has considerable talent and skill.

For more than a decade, the lounge in Huntington Beach's Restaurant Kikuya fulfilled jazz fans' dreams. There, one could see musicians, often of world-class caliber, in a setting so intimate you could almost reach out and touch them. That dream seemed to be over when Kikuya closed its doors last April. But since Dec.

Rob Mullins' most important career decision happened when he was 14 years old. He was leaving for school in Denver one morning when a car jumped the curb and struck him, fracturing his leg. Suddenly, the young Mullins, who since the age of 11 had been playing drums with big bands in Colorado and earlier in Ontario, Calif., had a problem. "You can't play drums in a cast," the now 35-year-old keyboardist said recently. "So I took up piano."

Rob Mullins didn't have the look of a matinee idol, let alone an evening idol Friday at Restaurant Kikuya, what with his boyish face, toothy grin and extremely casual dress of light-blue jeans, sweatshirt, white tennies and baseball cap. Nonetheless, the keyboardist had the packed house of about 100 in the palms of his talented hands, delivering the kind of upbeat, pop-flavored jazz that made his fans--male as well as female--all but swoon.

Pianist and composer Rob Mullins says that before he reached his teens, he fell in love with jazz when he heard a version of "West Side Story" played by drummer Buddy Rich's big band. For a while, Mullins felt there was only one style of jazz: that pulsing, forward-surging genre known as mainstream, or straight-ahead, typified by the late Rich's often explosive renditions.

Before he left for Hanoi last month, Rob Mullins saw Oliver Stone's latest film, "Heaven and Earth," which chronicles four decades of a Vietnamese woman's life. But it didn't prepare him for what he found there. "It's a place where time is still stuck back somewhere in the past," the keyboardist from Huntington Beach said. "They're still trying to develop basic things like electricity, public transportation, systems of distribution for their products.

The sign out front of El Matador Thursday night promised "Dueling Pianos: Rob Mullins vs . Mark Massey." But the spirit of the evening's first set was more cooperative than combative as the two keyboardists pumped each other up in a program of beat-minded standards and an original each from Mullins and bassist Luther Hughes.

Rob Mullins, the keyboardist who's been a steady fixture at Southern California jazz clubs for close to a decade, says the primary responsibility of a musician is to reach his audience. "I think too much of the time, jazz musicians don't consider who's out there listening," says Mullins, who lives in Huntington Beach. "After all, they're the ones that make your house payments. And, let's face it: Music is entertainment. If people aren't entertained, you haven't accomplished anything."

Too often a musician's work is dubbed "fusion" strictly because of its instrumentation. Plug in a few instruments, turn up the volume and voila , you've got a fusion band. But real fusion melds styles as well as instruments. That's what keyboardist-composer Rob Mullins does. Not only does Mullins blend acoustic and electric instruments in his band, he also mixes styles, fusing jazz and rock beats with world-beat and even classical elements.

* * * Rob Mullins, "One Night in Houston," AudioQuest. Keyboardist Mullins takes his quartet through a set of nine originals in which he alternates fiery funk ("Holiday") with relatively relaxed jazz ("Quiet Fire"). Except for one cut on which Wilton Felder overdubs two extra sax parts, it's all live, direct to two-track with appropriate backing by Ndugu Chancler (drums) and Larry Kimpel (bass).

Rob Mullins, the keyboardist who's been a steady fixture at Southern California jazz clubs for close to a decade, says the primary responsibility of a musician is to reach his audience. "I think too much of the time, jazz musicians don't consider who's out there listening," says Mullins, who lives in Huntington Beach. "After all, they're the ones that make your house payments. And, let's face it: Music is entertainment. If people aren't entertained, you haven't accomplished anything."

* * * Rob Mullins, "One Night in Houston," AudioQuest. Keyboardist Mullins takes his quartet through a set of nine originals in which he alternates fiery funk ("Holiday") with relatively relaxed jazz ("Quiet Fire"). Except for one cut on which Wilton Felder overdubs two extra sax parts, it's all live, direct to two-track with appropriate backing by Ndugu Chancler (drums) and Larry Kimpel (bass).

Before he left for Hanoi last month, Rob Mullins saw Oliver Stone's latest film, "Heaven and Earth," which chronicles four decades of a Vietnamese woman's life. But it didn't prepare him for what he found there. "It's a place where time is still stuck back somewhere in the past," the keyboardist from Huntington Beach said. "They're still trying to develop basic things like electricity, public transportation, systems of distribution for their products.

Pianist and composer Rob Mullins says that before he reached his teens, he fell in love with jazz when he heard a version of "West Side Story" played by drummer Buddy Rich's big band. For a while, Mullins felt there was only one style of jazz: that pulsing, forward-surging genre known as mainstream, or straight-ahead, typified by the late Rich's often explosive renditions.

Too often a musician's work is dubbed "fusion" strictly because of its instrumentation. Plug in a few instruments, turn up the volume and voila , you've got a fusion band. But real fusion melds styles as well as instruments. That's what keyboardist-composer Rob Mullins does. Not only does Mullins blend acoustic and electric instruments in his band, he also mixes styles, fusing jazz and rock beats with world-beat and even classical elements.

Rob Mullins' most important career decision happened when he was 14 years old. He was leaving for school in Denver one morning when a car jumped the curb and struck him, fracturing his leg. Suddenly, the young Mullins, who since the age of 11 had been playing drums with big bands in Colorado and earlier in Ontario, Calif., had a problem. "You can't play drums in a cast," the now 35-year-old keyboardist said recently. "So I took up piano."

Rob Mullins is not yet a household name, but the evidence provided during his weekly session at the Bon Appetit left no doubt that the 31-year-old keyboard artist is headed for status as an international celebrity. Well versed though he is in synthesizer technology (he often plays electric keyboards at this Westwood club), Mullins on Sunday confined himself to acoustic piano. The confinement, far from pinning him down, offered a chance to display his mastery of the jazz tradition in a setting that gave him unlimited freedom.

For more than a decade, the lounge in Huntington Beach's Restaurant Kikuya fulfilled jazz fans' dreams. There, one could see musicians, often of world-class caliber, in a setting so intimate you could almost reach out and touch them. That dream seemed to be over when Kikuya closed its doors last April. But since Dec.

The sign out front of El Matador Thursday night promised "Dueling Pianos: Rob Mullins vs . Mark Massey." But the spirit of the evening's first set was more cooperative than combative as the two keyboardists pumped each other up in a program of beat-minded standards and an original each from Mullins and bassist Luther Hughes.

Mark Massey says he can vividly recall feelings associated with key events in his life as if they had just happened. Such as the time Florence Phillips, his fifth-grade teacher at Mark Twain Elementary School in Lynwood, played a Dixieland record in class. "I can hear the solos. That music made me so happy," he said. Then there was the time he was 14 and his mother bought him the 1969 Blood, Sweat & Tears album that featured their hit "Spinning Wheel." "It was incredible.