Most nights, at 6 o'clock, I turn the radio dial to 92.9 CBC radio 2. For two blissfully schizophrenic hours, our family listens to, cooks to, dances to, dines to, and lets go of the day to "Tonic"...a program lovingly sculpted and craftily narrated by Katie Malloch. It was during one of these listening adventures that I was turned on to Pink Martini...Latin Jazz that brings back the class and pizazz of the late 50s and early 60s. Fantastic stuff.
Visit the following URL to read a review by NPR and listen to an entire concert!
There are any number of terribly filmed videos of live performances available for your viewing displeasure on you tube. But, if you close your eyes...you might just be able to conjure images of being in a smoky club, surrounded by dancers so close and filled with such passion that the proprietors of the club may as well begin charging a fee to those sitting and watching like voyeurs in a pay booth.
Here's an example of what I mean:
Their Latin-charged music is sultry and hot at times, light and fluffy at others, and can even be downright depressing. Good stuff. I love music, but it takes an act of the musical deities to get me off the couch to fish a pen that works out of the basket and write them down on the list we keep stuck to the fridge. This band not only woke the gods...it made them stand up in their thrones, shake their butts, and scream something sexy I don't understand in Spanish.