Something Old And Something New: A Timeless Jazz-Pop Gem That Still Swings
You know those albums that just feel like a warm hug for your ears? Something Old And Something New by Sammy Herman Sextet is one of those. Released way back in 1959, this easy-listening masterpiece blends jazz and pop with the kind of charm that makes you want to pour yourself a drink (or two) and sit back while life slows down for a bit. It’s got vibes—literally and figuratively—and it’s hard not to get lost in its breezy melodies.
The album was released on Everest Records, which might explain why the sound quality feels so rich, almost like you’re sitting right there in the studio with Ed Safranski on bass or William Gussak keeping time on drums. But let’s talk about what really stuck with me: “Tico Tico” and “Heartaches.” These tracks aren’t just songs—they’re experiences.
“Tico Tico,” man, where do I even start? The marimba work from William Dorn gives it this playful bounce that feels like dancing barefoot on a summer evening. You can practically see the swaying palm trees and hear laughter floating through the air. There’s something magical about how Sammy Herman layers the xylophone into the mix—it doesn’t overpower; instead, it adds this sparkle, like sunlight hitting water. Every time I hear it, I’m transported somewhere brighter, lighter, happier. If joy had a soundtrack, this would be it.
Then there’s “Heartaches,” which hits different altogether. This one sneaks up on you. At first, it’s all smooth organ grooves courtesy of Nick Perito, but then the vibraphone comes in, soft and tender, like an old friend reminding you it’s okay to feel things deeply. It’s nostalgic without being sad, comforting without being cliche. I found myself humming along before realizing I didn’t even know the words. That’s the power of music like this—it speaks straight to your soul without needing to say much at all.
What gets me most about this record isn’t just the music itself—it’s the people behind it. Guys like John Cali on guitar and Nat Hentoff writing those thoughtful sleeve notes remind us that records used to be labors of love, crafted by real humans who cared deeply about their art. Listening to this album feels like stepping into a world where everything moved a little slower, a little gentler.
And here’s the thing—I wasn’t alive when this came out. Hell, my parents probably weren’t either. Yet somehow, these songs still resonate. They bridge generations, countries (this baby saw releases in both the US and France!), and styles. Maybe that’s why it works as well today as it did back then. Or maybe…just maybe…it’s because good music never really ages. It just waits patiently for someone to rediscover it.
So if you stumble across Something Old And Something New, give it a spin. Let it take you somewhere else for a while. Who knows? You might find yourself smiling at nothing in particular—or tearing up over a melody you’ve never heard before. Funny how music does that sometimes, huh?
