The is always something special about a new collection from LES ELGART and his orchestra, and this time around is no exception.
The something special comes from the remarkably full and mellow tone that Les, and Les alone, seems capable of providing, and the sense of cheerful excitement that he and his orchestra build up through one of their wonderfully danceable collections.
There is a lot of good dance music around these days, but Les and his boys offer more than just dood dance music.
There is a fullness, a ripeness of tone in the voicings, a beat that is youthful and contagius, and a general sense of cleanness in the playing that sets LES ELGART's orchestra apart from all others.
Consider, for example, the infectious figure that starts off Cherokee, and the almost tangible fatness of the brass that follows.
The arrangement follows a strictly melodic line, but there is plenty to listen to along the way without getting in the way of what Les considers the main function of a dance band: to satisfy the dancers.
A different approach is heard in Irving Berlin's All by Myself, which offers a larger opportunity to the reeds.
Here the sound is equally rich, but a little lighter: the beat is just as catchy.
Moonlight Shuffle presents a fine, rocking bear punctuated by the brass and riding along with relaxation under the reeds, and then gives way to a spirited, bouncing arrangement of Jerome Kern's Pick Yourself Up, with a hint of Latin influences along the way.
A fine, mellow 'Deed I Do spotlights some of Les' soloista, then comes a snappy and gingery Ginger Snap, which is alomst a conversation piece for brass and reeds.
When I Take My Sugar to Tea has an incisive beat and bubbles with the humor and good nature of the situation (humor is another important ingredient in the LES ELGART recipe).
Next comes a warmly sentimental reading of These Foolish Things, paced at a slower tempo but no less sharply etched.
The special ripeness of the Elgart sound is displayed in Lullaby of the Leaves, voiced primarily in the lower brass tones and supported by that inimitable beat.
Les and the group thereupon offer Poinciana, beginning with a breezy Latin figure, then settling down into a shuffle-type beat that allows the whole band to display its talents.
The agreeable pacing of Painting the Clouds with Sunshine is another familiar Elgart ingredient, as is the sunny quality of the arrangement, a series of delightful ideas that lead to the finale, If I Could Be with You.
Here the great sound, great playing and great pacing of LES ELGART and his orchestra are displayed in an infectious arrangement that has much of the slyly amusing quality of the song's lyrics and that winds up Les' program on an appropriately mellow note.