Musette ~ Drape Me In Velvet

There’s a twinkle in Joel Danell‘s eyes as he stares from the album cover ~ or perhaps his eyes have been replaced by tiny full moons.  When listening to Drape Me In Velvet, one gains the impression that the second scenario is more likely.  And where would one go to procure such items: retina-free moons that still enabled one to see?  Most likely at the thrift shoppe, surrounded by dented, one-armed mannequins, discarded calliope parts, hand-painted lampshades and dusty jacks.  In fact, it’s possible – even probable – that Danell cut a bargain with the owner of such an establishment.  In return for those eyes, I will provide your business with a soundtrack.  And such a soundtrack!  Born of cassettes and reel-to-reel recordings of the 1950s and 1960s, the skeletons of the past were draped in velvet, their rough edges shorn, their spirits allowed to roam free in the background like grazing spring lambs.  What is “real” and what is “reel” is unclear, as nine performers are credited with contributions; but the effect is the same.  Drape Me In Velvet is a quaint, daisy-glo, soda pop album, a paisley dress, a shopping cart with a rusted wheel.  Blow on the disc, and it still sounds dusty; pass it on a Bose system and it still seems like it’s coming from an elevator.  It’s as if the record had been recovered from the dirt of a discarded garden.  Hints of exotica and film scores are joined by organ, melodica, xylophone and other tasteful instruments, but this isn’t for the good china – it’s for the paper plates.  The trumpet tones and lounge themes conjure images of outdoor picnics at which everyone is wearing name tags.  As an evocation of a bygone era, Drape Me In Velvet gets everything right; and as Danell seems delighted with his new eyes, it turns out this bargain was good for everyone.  (Richard Allen)

Coucou Anne

Available here