A sexy samba party for the jazz guitar lover, and lovers of all types featuring Steve Anderson on bass, Mike Crotty on horns and flutes and Dom Moio on drums.

10 MP3 Songs in this album (47:00) !
Related styles: JAZZ: Bossa Nova, JAZZ: Cool Jazz

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Details:
I know the events I remember are real, even if some memories have faded and been embellished or even replaced with constructs formed from impressions, dreams, and emotions. These things happened. And if they had only happened in my mind they still add up to part of who I am, even though, âwho am I?â is a question to which the answer only matters at those times when Iâve lost perspective for the moment; in other words, a bad day. But it was a very good day, and a warm summer evening when I arrived at a party at a suburban home, years ago now, decades.

I donât believe I was actually invited. A good friend had told me about the party and suggested that I could drop by and that it would be alright. As I got to the front door I could hear music pulsating from inside and voices talking and laughing. I knocked a couple of times and after no answer I opened the door myself and walked in. To my left I could see the source of the music, a band lead by the same friend. He spotted me and nodded briefly and went back to playing his bass. I think they were playing a tune called D Flat Samba, and the ladies were swaying in their evening dresses, and perfume was wafting in the air. I was already becoming intoxicated as I went in search of a drink.

There was a long line at the bar, but there was a buffet near by so I sampled some of the food. There were several things to try. Some were good, but some had Way Too Much Spice. Finally I was able to get a drink, and with that, I began to feel as though I was in business.
The band was just finishing a tune called âQuartal Turnâ when I noticed a delicious female looking my way. I moved a little closer and she kept looking so I decided to hazard a little conversation. We ended up dancing to a tune called âTouch.â I had no idea at the time, but that girl would end up being my wife one day.

The band broke into a quick blues, âThe Trill is Gone.â The girl move on and I lost track of her. Then the band played a slow tune called âEasyâ and I wanted to dance with her again so I went looking. I noticed for the first time that the party extended out into the back yard so I decided to try looking out there to see if I could find her.

Suddenly people seemed to be moving toward a back gate and I could hear a commotion going on behind the back wall. I moved with the crowd and as I went through the gate I could see a cat standing on a trash can in the alley, itâs eyes glowing yellow in the dark. It stood frozen for a moment and ran off and I barely avoided stepping on the remains of a dead bird lying on the ground. Then came flashing red and blue lights and a police car turned in at the end of the alley. The officers got out of the car and seemed to be lost in the crowd of people who were now milling around. In the darkness, even with a full moon, I still could not see what had caused all of the attention. The crowd pressed back toward me and I was pushed back through the gate and into the yard once more. I heard some one shout just before the sound of the squad car leaving again, âYer food! No, youâre food!â I heard someone nearby nattering something, derogatory I think, that sounded like âGringo Joe.â I had no idea what that meant.

Having failed to find the girl out back, I went back inside. The band was playing a groove called âLustful Lifeâ and there were three women dancing together, their hips swinging and their dresses swaying as if in the opposite direction. After that tune was finished the party seemed to wind down and I decided to leave. As I walked out to the front yard I remembered I had gotten a ride there with a friend who was going the same way and had dropped me off. I needed a ride and got lucky as the three aforementioned ladies were at that moment getting into their car. I approached and asked if I might get a ride, to which they were more than accommodating. They had hired a driver for the evening and we all got into a very nice black car. I sat in the back between two of the girls as we got underway and the radio was playing a tune called âBossa Banana.â I could feel the bodies of the women on either side of me doing a gentle samba in their seats and their perfume made my head swim. As it turned out they were headed to yet another party and invited me to tag along. So I went with them into that night with the aim of finding that girl again somehow. And eventually, I did.