Fool Jazz

Like gloves on a summer night, this album feels sticky like sin. It's a break from the past that casts all that has gone before into relief. It meanders enjoyably for 40-odd minutes. The artists involved met one year and forged a beautiful friendship. His instrument sounds like an animal in an extremely tense situation. The disclosure of an innocent mind comes at a high price. I don't like this record. I can't find an angle. What I like about other music, sometimes, is one can make claims on its behalf. The artists involved are happy about the charity. The album review is an economy of gestures organised around a system of taboos and governed by easily determinable (though historically variable) regulations. The dynamic of the relation between these taboos and their audience (target market) has yet to be explored by a naive mind unsullied by press releases and deadlines.