Music-Reviewer.com on “Very Strange Night” (9.0 Out of 10 Rating)
Samson Trinh is going to make it. I can feel it. At only 23-years-old, one would think this musical ingénue wouldn’t attract listeners outside his native Richmond, Va. But he proves on his debut album, Very Strange Night that his style of jazz and orchestral standards is original, hip and represents his youthful mind. The album is one to buy, one to cherish and, frankly, one to completely be dumbfounded about. How on earth does someone put together such a great group of songs at 23-years-old? He sounds like he’s been doing this for ages.
Very Strange Night is both lyrical and instrumental jazz. But nothing is what it seems. The song titles alone will let you know that you’re in for a high-spirited journey: “I Can’t Believe I’m Addicted To The O.C.,” “I Tried To Talk To Her, But She Thought I Was Too Weird” and “Piece For Trumpet And Piano.” These songs give the album a wispy sense of an old-fashioned man stuck in the modern era. He’s not on a journey, he’s beginning one.
The first song, “Intro: Drop The Needle,” is nothing more than a few seconds of a needle being dropped on a record. The sound is haunting and sets listeners up for an experience that transports them back to the era of smoke-filled jazz rooms and big house bands. Even the CD itself is fashioned after an old record – with grooves and all!
Then, Trinh shows off with track two: “To You, Near You, With You.” It’s the album’s strongest song, thanks to Trinh’s composition and the smooth vocals of Terri Murphy. The song is a simple love story that stays along the whole old time theme. Murphy sings, “Met at a record store / Slow motion steps in / Oh, how long it’s been / Where do we begin?”
What’s great about Trinh’s composition is that he goes all out. Murphy is not simply accompanied by a piano in the background. She has literally a full band made up of a piano, guitar, bass, drums, violin, cello, flute, clarinet, bassoon, trumpet, trombone, xylophone, chimes, timpani and bells. And if that wasn’t enough of a feast for your ears, Trinh throws in some finger snaps and whistles as well.
If there is one criticism to Trinh’s album it’s that he outdoes himself. The vocal-infused songs, like “Signs Are Full Of Jive” and “That’s Why,” are much better than the strictly instrumental. But that doesn’t mean their un-listenable. There is just much disparity on the album. There’s the great and the unbelievable.
If you’re looking for the oldest style of jazz, you’ll actually find it on the song with the most modern title: “I Can’t Believe I’m Addicted To The O.C.” The song begins with the wailing of trumpets and saxophones in a bouncy melody reminiscent of Disney’s “Fantasia.” When you close your eyes and listen you can see images of bustling city life and slowed-down suburbia. Trinh has a magical way of eliciting images and memories with his instrumental work.
The vocals on some tracks, such as Jackie Frost on “Thank Goodness,” reminded me of Norah Jones mixed with Rosemary Clooney. The lyrics are simple, the voice is sexy and the accompanying piano work is pulsating. You instantly get the image of a vixen singing into a ribbon microphone, all to the backing of toe tapping, cigarette sucking, fedora wearing and red lipstick bearing listeners.
If jazz isn’t your forte, try track 10, “Very Strange Night.” This one is more big band with wailing trumpets and abrupt outbursts of musical effusion. There are dueling tenor saxophones, trumpets and trombones. And the end of the song has that big blast of instrumental glee similar to Paul Shaffer’s opening composition on the “Late Show with David Letterman.”
