Album Review: 19 Internationales Amateur Jazz Festival Zürich (1969)
Alright, let’s talk about this hidden gem from Switzerland. The album 19 Internationales Amateur Jazz Festival Zürich is a wild ride through jazz styles like Post Bop, Free Jazz, and even some Dixieland vibes. Released in 1969 on the Heco label, it’s a snapshot of what amateur jazz musicians were cooking up back then. And honestly? It’s pretty dang cool.
The tracklist has some real winners, but two songs stuck with me long after I hit pause: "Joonji" and "The Devil Is Green." Let’s break ‘em down.
First up, "Joonji." Man, this one grabs you right away with its playful energy. It starts off feeling like a warm hug—those brass sections just bounce around like they’re having the time of their lives—but then it takes a sharp left into something freer, almost experimental. You can hear the musicians really stretching out here, like they’re not afraid to take risks. It’s messy at times, sure, but that’s what makes it memorable. It feels alive, ya know? Like jazz should.
Then there’s "The Devil Is Green." Whoa, what a title, right? This tune hits different. It’s darker, moodier, with a creeping bassline that gives me chills every time. The saxophone solo halfway through is absolutely killer—it’s like the player’s pouring their soul into it. There’s something cinematic about this track; I could totally picture it playing in some old black-and-white noir film where everyone smokes cigarettes indoors and says cryptic stuff like “the night knows no mercy.”
Other tracks like "Harlem Bound" and "Blue And Yellow" also bring their own flavor to the table, but these two stood out for me because they feel so distinct. They remind you how versatile jazz can be—even when it’s made by amateurs who probably didn’t have all the fancy gear we do now.
What strikes me most about this album is how unpolished yet genuine it feels. These aren’t studio pros trying to make a hit—they’re just people jamming their hearts out at a festival in Zurich. In a way, that rawness is refreshing. Like, yeah, maybe someone flubs a note here or there, but who cares? It’s got personality, and that’s worth more than perfection any day.
So, would I recommend this album? Totally. If you dig jazz that doesn’t take itself too seriously and isn’t afraid to get weird, this is your jam. Plus, it’s Swiss, which automatically makes it cooler than most albums released that year.
Final thought: Listening to this record kinda makes me wish I was there in ‘69, sipping coffee at the festival, nodding along awkwardly while pretending I understood jazz better than I actually did. But hey, isn’t that what music’s all about?
