The closest thing this ingenious idea of 6 clarinets getting together sans rhythm (and NOT a capella as the liner notes state. “A capella” means “no instruments” or literally “like church”…your lesson for the day) was back in the 80s when James, Jimmy Hamilton, David Murray and Alvin Batiste put out a couple fantastic albums. This one ups the ante in a couple of ways. First of all, you got half a dozen licorice sticks (some sound like they are “G” or “C” as well as the regular Bb) played by Stavros Pazarentsis, Slobodan Trkulja, Sergiu Balutel, Oguz Buyukberber, Orlin Pamukov and Tobias Klein. Second, you’ve got two musical directors, Claudio Puntin and Schorn arranging the pieces, which are made up of traditional pieees as well as a handful of originals. What you get, as the liner notes say, is music that has “the drive of a wedding band, the melancholy of a poem (and ) the depth of a string quartet.”

What you get is a mix of gloriously themes from Byzantium, sometimes cantoral chants and ecclesiastical hymns, and other times folk dances that make you want to grab someone’s hand, get into a circle and start stamping your feet. Gloriously melancholy reeds call out to God on “Nostalgia” while a lower reed chorus sounds like shuffling and stomping shoes on the frolicking “Geamparale” and “Breaza.” Heavenly dreams form as the gathering of black sticks form a glowi on “Poeme” and the tender “Za Moc Oza.” Frentetic and infectious beats supply the foundation for serpentine solos on “Severniaski” and the rollicking “Sirba De Concert.” Celebration like a church Easter picnic is in eveidence on “Nostalgic Dances” while “Khardy” features a lonely and agonizing solo that pierces through the air like a monk in Mount Athos.

This album swings more than 50% of the last year of recent jazz albums, and the solos are more adventurous than anything Eric Dolphy could ever dream of. Convinced yet?