C.j. Hartland

From the title of this CD, the listener can guess where zydeco artist C.J. Chenier is going with this one. Recorded in 1995, Too Much Fun features a big sound filled with multiple electric guitars, saxophones, trumpet, and percussion instruments, along with the more traditional accordion and rub boards that distinguish the genre of zydeco. C.J. Chenier contributes to the party spirit by playing the accordion, alto saxophone, and providing vocals on the CD. The rest of the Red Hot Louisiana Band gears up for an album of party music meant for dancing. It would be unthinkable in the zydeco tradition to have too much fun without dancing being on the agenda, so dance tunes rule the record. Especially hot dance tunes include "Zydeco Cha Cha," "Louisiana Two Step," "Squeaky Wheel," and "Give Me Some of That," along with the title cut. There is a humorous and admiring nod to the ladies in "Man Smart (Woman Smarter)," as well as some gritty blues on "Louisiana Down Home Blues" and "Lost in the Shuffle." The CD goes out with one last lively dance number, "Louisiana Two-Step," so that no one can ever say that C.J. Chenier kept the dancers from having too much fun.

J.R. Monterose's first session as a leader was a thoroughly enjoyable set of swinging, straight-ahead bop that revealed him as a saxophonist with a knack for powerful, robust leads in the vein of Sonny Rollins and Coleman Hawkins. With a stellar supporting group of pianist Horace Silver, trumpeter Ira Sullivan, bassist Wilbur Ware, and drummer "Philly" Joe Jones, Monterose has recorded a set of bop that swings at a measured pace and offers many delightful moments. Throughout the session, Monterose sounds vigorous, whether he's delivering hard-swinging solos or waxing lyrical. With his bluesy vamps and soulful solos, Silver is equally impressive, while Sullivan's spotlights are alternately punchy and skilled; similarly, the rhythm section is tight, letting the music breathe while keeping the groove. In fact, the quality of the music is so strong, J.R. Monterose qualifies as one of the underappreciated gems in Blue Note's mid-'50s catalog.