Davell is a piano-playing dude we spied for the first (as yet, only) time up at the Eastcoast Blues and Roots Festival a few years back.
This earlier CD from him explores very different territory. While the cheesy album cover hints at some Fresh Prince/Luther Vandross intersection, this is sadly a very mainstream jazz effort.
I have pretty Philistine leanings when it comes to the skivvy-wearing, beat-poet-invoking world of jazz. Every now and then something takes my fancy, but typically I’m left pretty cold by the preference for musical showboating over entertainment. Also, I like lyrics and the human voice.
This album falls short on all front. Crawford is attempting to reincarnate the B-3 Hammond organ as an instrument, so he squelches out a range of jazz standards, accompanied by some tenor sax of the very blurty, high-end toot-toot variety (I did tell you I was a Philistine).
While the drummer typically does a pretty good job, the tendency of the organ to invoke basketball/ice hockey images makes this a less than relaxing listen.
File under: I can understand why B1 & B2 are a duo