When the rippling ringing of the ride cymbal flies from the long day into an open night and the snare-drum accents and alto-sax accidentals dance to bass snaps and strums and piano swirls and whirls, the first minute of the evening’s music clears ears and finds minds and makes magical beats for feet and hands and tapping fingers, and the first untitled tune with its bells and whistles from Caroline Davis’s alto to Julian Shore’s piano to Chris Tordini’s bass to Allen Mednard’s drums shimmers and glimmers and skips and turns and swerves and curves enough for an entire evening with lightness and intensity, and then there’s still so much more. (Andrew Shields, #111Words, 29 May 2024)
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