Album Review: Fred Adison Et Son Orchestre, René Lacoste, Roger Toussaint
Alright, let’s dive into this gem of an album by Fred Adison Et Son Orchestre, with René Lacoste and Roger Toussaint in the mix. If you’re into jazz vibes that feel like a warm hug on a chilly evening, this one’s for you. It’s not trying too hard to be fancy—just good music that makes you want to pour yourself a drink (or two) and chill.
First off, I gotta shout out track 3—whatever it’s called. Honestly, I don’t even remember the title because I was too busy vibin’. The saxophone? Chef’s kiss. It’s smooth but also kinda playful, like when someone tells a joke at just the right moment during dinner. You can tell Fred and his crew weren’t overthinking things—they just let the instruments do their thing. There’s this one part where the piano jumps in, all light and bouncy, and suddenly you’re not sitting still anymore. Your feet are tapping, your head’s nodding… yeah, they got me.
Then there’s track 7 (again, no clue what it’s named—but who cares?). This one hits different. It’s slower, moodier, almost like it knows something you don’t. The trumpet takes center stage here, and man, does it sound soulful. Like, “grab your coat and walk under the stars” kind of vibes. Every note feels deliberate, like each sound has its own little story to tell. By the time it ends, you’re left thinking, What just happened? But in a good way.
What I love about this album is how real it feels. None of that overproduced nonsense—you can practically hear the creaky floorboards or maybe a faint cough from someone in the room while they recorded. And honestly? That’s refreshing. In a world full of polished beats and autotune, this is a reminder that sometimes less really is more.
Final thought: Listening to this album felt like finding an old vinyl at a garage sale and realizing it’s exactly what you didn’t know you needed. Oh, and fun fact—I listened to it while making toast, and now my toaster seems cooler. True story.
