Paris to Cuba

“Every time I go to Paris, I get inspired. I start thinking about ways I can embrace the city and absorb its magic…"

"This album, inspired by my appreciation of both styles, came about from the feel-good spirit that both Paris and Cuba share." -- Mario Grigorov


When I saw the email in my inbox, I couldn't believe my luck (and the power of Google searches since the email came right after my post about possibly not going to Cuba!).

My initial thought was Me?

Write a music review? Coherently? Do these people honestly know who they're dealing with here?

What do I know about music? The last time I listened to a conversation about music, I thought that those people were talking about math!

Thankfully, I was assured by a very nice fellow that I didn't need to know anything about writing a music review. I just needed to know how to listen. Like a regular person.

Whew. I know how to listen! That regular person stuff sounds highly overrated though.

When I got the CD (after my trip to Cuba and with the Cuban bands and mojitos still in mind) I settled myself down for a listen (and yes, I managed to listen to it uninterrupted. A feat worthy of Hercules).

I FELL IN LOVE. And I'm not just saying that because a fellow in New York sent me a CD. We are all about honesty and hysterics on this blog. Right? To. A. Fault.

When I finished the album, I turned to Mr C and said: "This is freaking awesome."

Only I said it in French. And I may used some French naughty words "Putain! Ce CD est trop de la balle! C'est top!"

The proof in the pudding is that I caught myself humming the music to myself before falling asleep last night and the night before.

OK. OK. You're saying. So. Um. The music?

Right. The music.

The music is mostly instrumental. Which. Actually. Is something that I really like.

Weirdly.

I blame Nine Inch Nails.

Stop laughing.

I like it when music plays around. When there are stops. And starts. When new instruments come in. When music doesn't just play around with my eardrums, but gets my whole body in the groove. And Oh. My. God. If you can get my heart to lift out of my chest and into my throat?

I am forever lost to your wiley ways.

Do you realise how many times that happened while I was listening to this album? I should be dead by now. That's how many.

Now I can't tell you if the CD I was listening to was a Jazz Cuban fusion or not (because I'm not well read on these things), but I can tell you that it was wonderful. It was perfect. And that I'll be playing it a lot.

Track this baby down. You'll thank me later.

Really.

Here let me help: Paris to Cuba

Go there now.

[Edited to add: For a much more serious commentary, check out Invisible Paris' side of the story. Thanks Jonnifer!]