Featuring hiscool-jazz lyrical stylings (and more than a bit of hotel-lounge posturing),trumpet playing and multitrack guitars, Healey runs the gamut of jazz standards(“Pennies from Heaven”) and whimsical obscurities (ha ha, Jeff, “You Can’t Pullthe Wool Over My Eyes”). Often completely alone, other times backed bypianist/clarinetist Ross Wooldridge or violinist Drew Jurecka, this is thesound of virtuosity being shelved in favor of complete derivative replication.It’s far from his Stevie Ray Vaughan-accompanying, YouTube sensationalism andcloser to the Healey one might find at home, chillin’ amid stacks of hisexpansive 78-R.P.M. collection.
In other words, ifPatrick Swayze is manning the door for this session, the bar is somewhere inCount Basie-era Kansas City,or down around Basin Street, New Orleans.