Kurt Elling – SuperBlue is one of the best known jazz-funk albums of 2021. This album is an innovative take on jazz music altogether with its indelible beats and boisterous funk. With SuperBlue, Kurt Elling continues on this path of bold collaboration of both jazz and funk. He unleashed melodies that were unheard of. Which is amazing. Vocal jazz can’t get any better than this.
Sassy is about a female singer named Sassy whose charisma is through the roof due to her wild and vibrant personality. Sassy can sharpen a rhythm to a stinger with her singing. Sassy is the baddest singer around. People call her “Sassy” because that’s her attitude.
You really wanna flip your lid? Then step up and give a listen to the singer named Sassy. Hip or square, say a prayer. When money’s stiff, she’ll make it on a riff. She turns the major into minor cool. This woman’s the crown jewel of sound. She is renown allover town. That Sassy’s on a hipper trip. Sassy can sharpen a rhythm to a stinger. She keeps it loose over a ballad or a blues. 10,000 hours on a thousand gigs. She’s takin’ the crown uptown or down. Sassy is the baddest singer around. Sassy is the baddest singer around. She’s brazen and blazing. Her singing and personality are simply amazing.
But her phrasing’s just like a saxophone. Sassy is working in the daytime and jamming every night. Blowin’ over changes that would give most cats a fright. People call her “Sassy” because that’s her attitude. But when she sings her blues, you know what she’s going through.
Watch Sassy take another swig. Now she’s gettin’ evil with the people. Cigarette… Final Set. You don’t wanna miss a prelude to a kiss from her. Even the trumpet player’s smiling now. Sassy is walking the line and cutting in rhyme. She is divine all the time. People call her sassy because she knows her mind. She became a living legend from songs she redefined. Working in the daytime and jamming every night. Hangin’ with the fellas until she’s ready to ignite.
Dharma Bums is about a man who persuades his lady into spending some time with him in his vehicle so they can go on a road trip. You never know just what there is to find until you start looking. You never know just what you’re gonna dine on until you start cooking. Two on the road is always better than one. Those are the messages of this song.
This man has got a wandering feeling that it’s time for him and his lady to be moving on. The arms upon the clock that’s on the wall are telling him that he has been standing still for much too long and needs to take himself and his lady on a road trip out of town. The night is darkest just before the dawn. A picture’s always blank before it’s drawn. She can bring her tender body and he can provide the strength and brawn.
The man has got a vintage Ford Falcon that is hungry for the road. The chromium is polished in the knowledge that they’re headed for an altogether distant postal code several thousands of miles away in another destination. He suggests that on the way that they find the mystic motherlode. Maybe they can find their just deserts and grab them à la mode! And when the spirit calls, both of them are filled up to the over-brim in that mescal and sage flavored air.
They’ll ball that jack straight until they reach the end of land and wash the miles off diving in the sea. Two holy goofs having a good time and sodden on a aubergine toboggan that is always smoking constantly.
And when the morning strolls, the great unrolling scroll of their lives imbibes and inscribes their heroic drives on the parchment of eternal vibes. we two holy-empty bowls with our ever-burning baby. They watch and behold as they patrol down the fold in the rolls in the future-Buddha foretold mold, where Bodhisattva whispers the Bodhi-being code and they find out path to the sold-out.
Listen up! The deepest truths ain’t written in no book. They’re all around you all the time, but you use your heart to look. They may be in a candy bar. Or in the photograph of a long-lost stare that somehow leaves you shook. They’re in the stories children tell or in an acrid, smokey smell. They may be waiting to be found in the freezing winter brook. But you can’t always see it, but it’s always there. They’ll outlast your every waking doubt because the truth always persists.
Circus is a jazz-funk song about a fun time at the circus Kurt had.
There is a tent on a dark green knoll outside of town by the train tracks and a seagull dump. The branches spread like scary fingers reaching in a pasture outside Kankakee, Illinois.
Topping the bill was Horse Face Ethel and her ‘Marvellous Pigs In Satin’. And One Eyed Myra, the queen of the galley who trained the ostrich and the camels. She looked at Kurt squinty with her one good eye in a Roy Orbison t-shirt as she bottle fed an orangutan named Tripod.
And then there was Yodeling Elaine, the queen of the air who wore a dollar sign medallion and she had a tiny bubble of spittle around her nostril and a little rusty tear, for she had lassoed and lost another tipsy sailor.
And over in the burnt yellow tent by the frozen tractor, the music was like electric sugar. And Zuzu Bolin played “Stavin’ Chain” and “Mighty Tiny” on the saw and he threw his head back with a mouth full of gold teeth. And the big band played “Lopsided Heart” and “Moon over Dog Street”.
And by the time they played “Moanin Low”, Kurt was soakin’ wet and wild eyed. Doctor Bliss slipped Kurt a preparation and I fell asleep with the tune “Livery Stable Blues” in his ear. Kurt and Molley Hoey drank Pruno and Koolaid. Molley Hoey had a tattoo gun made out of a cassette, motor, and a guitar string. She soaked a hanky in 3 Roses, rubbed it on the spot, and drew a rickety heart and a bent arrow which hurt like hell.
Funeral Wells spun Poodle Murphy on the target as he threw his hardware. Only once in Sheboygan did he miss at a matinee on Diamond Pier and she’d never let him forget it. They were doing two shows and she had a high fever and he took off a piece of her ear. Tip Little told her she should leave the bum. But Poodle said, “He fetched me last time I ran.” But Kurt would like to hammer this ring into a bullet. He wishes he had some whiskey and a gun.
I rate this album 5/5*****!!