They Sent Three Henchmen Live At Willow Jazz – A Wild Ride Through Free Improvisation
Alright, buckle up, because They Sent Three Henchmen Live At Willow Jazz by James Rohr, Nate McBride, and John McLellan is not your grandma's smooth jazz record (unless your grandma is secretly an avant-garde genius). Released in 1998 on Day Job Records, this album dives headfirst into the chaotic beauty of free improvisation. It’s raw, unpredictable, and kinda feels like eavesdropping on a musical conversation that doesn’t care if you’re listening.
Let’s talk tracks. First off, there’s "And Sitting In On Crazy Drunk..." — yeah, that’s the title, no joke. This tune grabs you by the ears and shakes you awake. James Rohr’s piano work here is all over the place but in the best way possible. He seems to be chasing some invisible muse, hammering out chords that sound like they’re tumbling down stairs. Meanwhile, Nate McBride’s bass lines slither around like they’re trying to escape the mix altogether, while John McLellan’s drums just go “nah, we’re doing THIS now” every time you think you’ve got a handle on where things are headed. The whole thing is messy and brilliant, like watching someone paint a masterpiece with their feet.
Then there’s "Strange Faraway Smiles," which hits different. It starts off slow, almost shy, like it's testing the waters before diving in. But once it gets going? Wow. The interplay between Rohr’s keys and McBride’s bass creates this eerie, dreamlike vibe—like walking through fog at midnight and wondering if something’s following you. By the time McLellan kicks in with those loose, cymbal-heavy beats, you’re fully immersed in whatever strange world these guys have conjured up. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you what story they were telling, but damn if it didn’t stick with me for days.
The credits deserve a shout-out too. Becca Solomon and Don Rohr killed it with the artwork, giving the album cover a scrappy, DIY charm that matches the music perfectly. And props to Peter Kontrimas for engineering this chaos without losing its soul—it can’t have been easy.
What strikes me most about this album is how alive it feels. You can practically hear the musicians reacting to each other in real-time, making decisions on the fly. It’s jazz as experimentation, jazz as rebellion, jazz as pure joy. Sure, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but isn’t that the point?
So here’s my reflection: Listening to They Sent Three Henchmen made me realize that sometimes the best art isn’t perfect—it’s human. These guys weren’t aiming for perfection; they were aiming for truth. And honestly? That’s worth more than any polished pop hit. Now excuse me while I go listen to "Just Get In The Van" and pretend I’m cool enough to understand exactly what they were going for. Spoiler alert: I’m not.
