Reflection Enchantment by Earlene Cole – A Hidden Jazz Gem That Still Kicks Ass
Let’s cut to the chase: Reflection Enchantment isn’t just another jazz album from 1966—it’s a vibe, man. Earlene Cole doesn’t mess around when she steps up to the mic; her vocals hit like a punch in all the right ways. This record came out on Showboat Records (yeah, you heard that right) and somehow flew under the radar for decades. But let me tell ya, this sucker deserves some serious attention.
First off, can we talk about “Enchantment”? Holy crap, this track slaps harder than most modern vocal jazz I’ve heard lately. Earlene’s voice drips with emotion—smooth as silk but sharp enough to slice through your soul. The way she bends those notes? Like honey dripping off a spoon, sweet yet raw. It’s not perfect, but who gives a damn? That imperfection makes it real, y’know? You feel every ounce of what she’s throwing down, no frills attached.
And then there’s “Reflection.” Damn, this one feels like staring into a mirror at 3 AM after too much whiskey. It’s slow, moody, and kinda haunting. Earlene lays it bare here—no flashy tricks, just pure honesty. When she sings, “I see myself…”—wait, are those the lyrics? Whatever they are, they stick to your ribs. It’s the kind of song that makes you wanna light a cigarette even if you quit years ago. Something about how sparse the arrangement is lets her voice take center stage, and holy hell, does she deliver.
Look, I ain’t saying this album reinvented jazz or anything. But it’s got guts. It’s got heart. And honestly, it’s refreshing compared to today’s overproduced nonsense. Earlene Cole didn’t need autotune or backing tracks—she brought the heat with nothing but her pipes and a band that knew exactly what they were doing.
Here’s the kicker though—why haven’t more people talked about this woman? Seriously, where’s the Netflix doc? Where’s the vinyl reissue? If you’re into jazz vocals that pack a punch without trying too hard, go dig up Reflection Enchantment. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
Oh, and one last thing—listening to this album made me realize something weird: maybe perfection’s overrated. Maybe we should embrace the cracks and scratches because that’s where the magic lives. Or maybe I’m just drunk. Either way, play this loud and thank me later.
