Marionette by Joe LoCascio: A Jazz Gem from 1969 That Still Hits Different
Alright, let’s talk about Marionette, the kinda underrated jazz album by Joe LoCascio. Released in '69 (yeah, that wild year), this record is a mix of Fusion, Post-Bop, and Crossover Jazz—basically, it’s got layers. It’s not perfect, but man, does it have soul. If you’re into sax-heavy tunes with some piano wizardry, this one might just stick to your ribs.
The lineup here? Solid. Warren Sneed on all the saxophones (alto, tenor, soprano—you name it), Tom McLaren holding down the bass like a boss, Tim Solook keeping time on drums, and Joe LoCascio himself tickling those keys like he owns ‘em. Oh, and Gary Weldon on harmonica adds this unexpected vibe that sneaks up on you. Props to Chase Music Group and Hartland Sound Studio for letting this crew do their thing.
Now, onto the tracks. You’ve got bangers like “Pack of Pall Malls” (which shows up more than once—no complaints here) and deep cuts like “Come Spring.” But if I had to pick two that stuck with me, I’d go with “Oasis” and “Always Know.”
“Oasis” feels like… well, an oasis. It starts off smooth, almost like you’re walking through a desert and suddenly find shade. The harmonica really shines here—it’s melancholy but hopeful at the same time. Like, you can hear someone thinking hard while playing it. And then there’s Joe’s piano work—it doesn’t try too hard; it just flows. There’s something comforting about how everything comes together without forcing anything.
Then there’s “Almost Know.” This track has this quirky charm to it. It’s playful, almost mischievous, like it knows something you don’t. Warren Sneed’s saxophone jumps around like it can’t sit still, and Joe’s sequencing gives it this cool, layered texture. Every time I listen to it, I catch something new—a little riff or chord change I didn’t notice before. It’s the kind of song that makes you nod your head even when you’re alone in your car.
One thing I gotta say though—the tracklist repeats a few songs. Like, we get “Pack of Pall Malls” three times? Not mad, just saying. Maybe they were trying to make sure we got the message? Either way, it works because each version brings something slightly different to the table.
What’s wild about Marionette is how ahead of its time it feels. Sure, it came out in ’69, but listening to it now, it doesn’t sound dated. It’s like finding an old photograph and realizing the people in it could easily fit into today’s world. The blend of styles keeps it fresh, and Joe LoCascio clearly knew what he was doing behind the scenes.
So yeah, this album isn’t gonna blow your mind with flashy production or over-the-top solos. Instead, it’s the kind of record that grows on you, like moss on a rock. Give it a spin, especially if you’re digging through crates or scrolling Spotify for hidden jazz treasures. Honestly, after listening to Marionette, I kinda wish Joe LoCascio was my uncle so I could ask him about these sessions over coffee. Or maybe beer.
