Malcolm’s Song
    Every Day I Fall in Love
    Those Lagos Blues
    Call Him Blackjack
    Let’s Go Driftin’
    Nancy with the Laughing Face
    The Baron
    Be My Mamacita
    Sweet Lu’s Blues
    Sweet Lu Olutosin (vocals): Antonio Ciacca (piano): Jeremy Pelt (trumpet): Tivon Pennicott (sax, flute): Mike Karn (bass): Kerome Jennings (drums)
    Recorded Tedesco Studio, Paramus NJ [46:29]
    Sweet Lu Olutosin is a dapper dresser with an elegant line in headwear. He cuts something of a retro figure, tie tightly knotted and hands nonchalantly
    thrust into his trouser pockets. His music, too, mines timeless style drawing on pieces by such as Herbie Hancock, Donald Byrd and Joe Henderson. But his
    collaboration with pianist Antonio Ciacca, three of whose pieces are also represented in this 46-minute album, shows wider collaborative intentions.
    A policeman for fully 35 years, Olutosin has a warm voice that cleaves close to the kind of phrasing and vocalising established by Al Jarreau and Joe
    Williams in years gone by. Crafting lyrics onto established instrumentals is nothing new but he does it well in this album and in so doing one finds, for
    instance, that Malcolm’s Song features something of a Horace Silver ensemble sound with a stand-out performance by saxophonist Tivon Pennicott.
I’ve heard him recently on another disc and he’s a consistently fine player with a strong future. His flute playing is laudable too.    Those Lagos Blues, a co-composition by singer and pianist-leader Ciacca is finely done with its Blue Note sound, and swinging trumpet (Jeremy
    Pelt).
    Olutosin sets words to Dexter Gordon’s solo on Hancock’s Let’s Go Driftin’ where Ciacca shows some fine chops. Best to pass in silence over the
    scat singing unwisely unveiled on Call Him Blackjack, the album’s least entrancing moment. A much more representative song is The Baron, 
    another co-composition between singer and pianist, in which the Blue Note vibe is once again established. Be My Mamacita is a chic, hip swinger
    and the final track, Sweet Lou’s Blues, is a testament to this tight swinging alliance of band and singer – with especially fine tenor, fine bass
    support by Mike Karn and crisp trumpet from Pelt.
    It brings to a close a pleasing disc; nothing fancy or earth-shattering, but solid vocalising and playing are guaranteed.
    Jonathan Woolf