Album Review: Mojave - The Music Of Antonio Carlos Jobim by Sylvain Sourdeix
Alright, so let’s talk about Mojave - The Music Of Antonio Carlos Jobim, the 2002 jazz gem from French saxophonist Sylvain Sourdeix. If you’re into smooth vibes and that laid-back bossa nova groove, this one might just hit the spot. It’s not flashy or overproduced—it feels more like a cozy hangout with friends who really know how to play.
The album’s got some killer tracks, but two stood out for me: “Amor Em Paz” and “Mojave.” Let me tell ya why these stuck in my head.
First up, “Amor Em Paz.” Man, this track is pure silk. Francis Lockwood on piano lays down this delicate melody that feels like sunlight streaming through your window on a lazy Sunday morning. And then there’s Sourdeix’s soprano sax—it floats around like it doesn’t have a care in the world, but every note hits right where it should. You can almost picture yourself sipping coffee somewhere tropical while life slows down just enough to feel okay about everything. It’s simple, yeah, but sometimes simple says the most.
Then we’ve got “Mojave,” which kinda flips the vibe. This one’s got an edge to it, like wandering through a desert at dusk when the air starts cooling off but still holds onto that heat from earlier. Toninho Do Carmo’s guitar work here is subtle yet sharp—he doesn’t overplay, but every strum feels intentional, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Add Eric Dervieu’s drums keeping things grounded, and suddenly you’ve got this hypnotic rhythm pulling you along. I couldn’t help but bob my head to this one—it sneaks up on you!
What makes this record special isn’t just the music itself; it’s the way everyone plays together. Like, Patrice Soler on bass? Dude’s holding it all down without stealing the spotlight. Even Luiz Augusto Cavani’s drumming on other tracks keeps things tight without getting in the way. It’s clear these guys weren’t trying to show off—they were making something that breathes and flows naturally.
Oh, and props to Fréderic Meunier for the graphic design too. The cover art matches the mood perfectly—minimalist, warm, and kinda dreamy, much like the tunes inside.
So yeah, Mojave isn’t gonna blow your socks off with crazy solos or experimental sounds, but maybe that’s the point. Sometimes you don’t need fireworks—you just need something real. Listening to this album felt like finding an old photograph you forgot existed. It didn’t change my life or anything, but it reminded me of moments I’d forgotten about, y’know?
And hey, fun fact: Did you notice how they snuck a tune called “Fotograph” onto the album? Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe Sylvain Sourdeix just likes reminding us to pause and capture the little things. Either way, it works.
