Music that gets its name Nu-Jazz: a fused sample of ride of heaven-opening cords, entwined with a thin flutter of fingers. Nu-jazz: a hopscotch from polygon to electron, a damp fiddle on worlds. Nu-jazz: a sax resting on bedroom rocks, asexual keys on warm wooden stalls. Music that gets its name in a fresh cool shower of morning majesty; a baptism of fresh thoughts diffused from walking hot dreams.
It’s music like a big bright red yellow white sun in Spain, flooding the faces of many marketmen. A big bright red yellow white sun in Italy, glamouring the rugged waters with ribbons of rare glint. A big bright red yellow white sun in my head, behind the clouds, my swollen sweaty head of sweetness. In my head, it reveals and realises a dream, a rhythm that I can’t shake off however hard I try: a holiday in the cities of salsa sesames, of tambarango tastebuds, a camera on my chest and a hat on my dark brown hair. A cufflink, a straight-faced clock, a gentleman and his travels in the myriads, the Mediterranean, the Red, the Black, the Indian, the seas he sought like letters for genes, like cards for business, like receipts for train journeys, like tastes for films.
And, like a genre for music, Nu-Jazz for me is for the longing tourism, the holidays holdings in my head, a haughty call for -retreat!- Retreat me to the hububbly cobble of a citadel, some savoured fort I can’t help but think. Like the fusion of Non-jazz and Jazz, there becomes this beautiful fusion of home and away, of work and play, trade and travel, day-to-days and wholey days, manners and humans; the two-fold nature of a gentleman I create with all my head and all my heart as I listen and I listen and I listen for a third time.
Yes, I must explicate what has only been thus far implicated; the aforementioned music’s done perfectly in this album Distinguished by Sinitus Tempo and Doc Battle. To conclude, it’s music that cries out for and longs for my cobbles in 10 short calm well-named tracks of neat beats and apt samples; it’s economical but erratic, empirical but escapist, intuitive but of interest; it’s where everything works and where everything gets its holiday.