Blood On The Moon: The King Jazz Story Vol 2 – A Swinging Time Capsule from 1966
Alright, let’s talk about Blood On The Moon: The King Jazz Story Vol 2, because this album is just begging for some love. Released in Italy back in '66 on The King Jazz Story label, it’s one of those records that feels like a warm hug from the past—albeit a slightly boozy, smoky kind of hug. With big band and swing vibes running through its veins, this MezzrowBechet Septet project isn’t trying to reinvent jazz; instead, it’s keeping things raw, real, and ridiculously fun.
First off, can we take a moment to appreciate the lineup? You’ve got legends like Sidney Bechet blowing his saxophone like he owns the place (spoiler: he does), Hot Lips Page laying down trumpet lines so smooth they could melt butter, and Milton “Mezz” Mezzrow weaving clarinet magic like it’s nobody’s business. Oh, and Pops Foster holding down the bass with Danny Barker strumming away on guitar—it’s basically a dream team. Alessandro Protti and Roberto Capasso even chipped in with sleeve notes, adding a little extra flavor to the whole package.
Now, onto the tracks. If I had to pick two standouts, I’d go with Perdido Street Stomp (Take 2) and Bad Bad Baby Blues. Why these two? Well, Perdido Street Stomp hits you right outta the gate with this infectious groove that makes you wanna grab someone by the hand and start shuffling across the floor—even if your moves are questionable at best. It’s got this lively energy where every instrument seems to be having a conversation, but instead of arguing, they’re all vibing together perfectly. And when Bechet’s sax comes in? Dude sounds like he’s channeling pure joy through his horn. Honestly, I don’t know how anyone could listen to this track and not feel happier afterward.
Then there’s Bad Bad Baby Blues, which flips the vibe entirely. This one slows things down and lets Hot Lips Page shine vocally while the band lays back just enough to give him space. There’s something about the way Page delivers those lyrics—he doesn’t just sing them; he lives them. By the time Sammy Price’s piano solo kicks in, you’re fully immersed in this moody, late-night kinda scene. Like, imagine sitting in a dimly lit club somewhere in New Orleans, nursing a drink, feeling all sorts of emotions swirling around. Yeah, that’s what this track does to ya.
What really sticks with me about this album is how unapologetically human it feels. These guys weren’t chasing perfection—they were chasing soul. Every note breathes life into the room, whether it’s Pleasant Joe belting out vocals or Sidney Catlett keeping everything locked down tight on drums. Listening to this record almost feels like eavesdropping on a jam session between friends who genuinely adore making music together.
And here’s the thing—I didn’t expect an Italian release from 1966 to hit me as hard as it did. But hey, maybe that’s the beauty of jazz. It doesn’t care about borders or timelines; it just wants to connect. So if you’re looking for something authentic, full of heart, and guaranteed to get your toes tapping, give Blood On The Moon a spin. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself humming Perdido Street Stomp for days. Trust me, it happens.
