Easy Rider The Waffle Man’s Call by Johnny Bayersdorffer & His Orchestra – A Bluesy Ride You Won’t Forget
Alright, let me tell ya about this gem of an album. Easy Rider The Waffle Man’s Call by Johnny Bayersdorffer & His Orchestra is one of those records that just grabs you by the soul and doesn’t let go. It’s raw, it’s real, and man, does it feel alive. This ain’t your polished, overproduced modern jazz—it’s blues straight from the heart of America, served up hot on a platter by some seriously talented cats.
First off, can we talk about “The Waffle Man’s Call”? I mean, what even IS that title? It sounds like something outta a quirky diner menu, but trust me, this track slaps. Right from the start, Johnny Bayersdorffer’s cornet jumps in like it’s got something to prove, all brassy and bold. Then there’s Charlie Scaglione on clarinet weaving these smooth, sneaky little lines that make you wanna close your eyes and sway. And don’t get me started on Chink Martin’s bass—it’s so steady, it feels like the heartbeat of the whole damn thing. There’s a moment halfway through where everything kinda drops out except for Steve Loyocano’s banjo riff, and honestly? That tiny break hits harder than most big crescendos I’ve heard lately. It’s simple, sure, but it sticks with you. Like burnt toast or a stubborn memory you can’t shake.
Then there’s “Easy Rider.” Oh boy, this one’s a slow burn. If “The Waffle Man’s Call” is the wild party starter, “Easy Rider” is the quiet after-hours chat when everyone else has gone home. Tom Brown’s trombone takes center stage here, sliding around like he owns the place, while Leon Adde’s drums keep things grounded without ever stealing the spotlight. But the real magic happens when Johnny Miller’s piano kicks in—soft at first, then building into this rolling wave of sound that makes you want to sit back and think deep thoughts. Or maybe cry. Either way, it’s powerful stuff.
What gets me about this album is how unapologetically human it feels. These guys weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel; they were just playing music because they loved it. You can hear it in every note—the joy, the sweat, the occasional stumble that somehow makes it better instead of worse. It’s messy, but isn’t life messy too?
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this record made me realize something kinda funny. We spend so much time chasing perfection these days—in music, in art, in ourselves—but sometimes, the imperfect stuff is what sticks. Maybe that’s why albums like Easy Rider The Waffle Man’s Call still matter almost a century later. They remind us that being alive means being flawed, and that’s okay. Hell, it’s more than okay—it’s beautiful.
So yeah, give this one a spin if you’re looking for something that’ll knock your socks off without even trying. Just don’t blame me if you end up craving waffles afterward.
