
What's not to like about this album of, all but one, original compositions by author William Faulkner's third cousin? It's delightful, the compositions are appealing, the solos are everything you'd expect from such a strong line-up - in other words, it's perfect.
And there's the rub. Sometimes, being perfect is more than you want. As a reviewer, you seek out the chink in the armour and it's frustrating when you can't find one. A lot of West Coast sessions conveyed the same feeling back in the 1950's. Here, however, cool as it is, there's also plenty fire. The horns keep things burning and Nelson's drop-in moments on vibes add to the fun.
They go out in a blaze of glory on Things Ain't What They Used to be - little did Ellington know how appropriate that title would be today!
As I say, perfection. I just wish I could have found that chink in the armour that would have raised it above and beyond ...
Lance
Available via the usual suspects.
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