Ernesto Cervini's Turboprop: A Canadian Songbook

Toronto-based drummer, Ernesto Cervini has a "T" theme going with the groups he leads. There is the funky, forward-thinking Tetrahedron. Then we have the terrific trio (bass, drums and saxophone) TuneTown. And the third: Turboprop, presenting their fourth album, A Canadian Songbook, which digs into the musical soul of their home turf.

Turboprop is a sextet with a powerhouse three-horn front line, featuring three of Canada's finest, Tara Davidson on alto saxophone, Joel Frahm on tenor saxophone, and trombonist William Carn. The group plays a set of tunes with robust gusto. (Ernesto Cervini's Robusto Gusto sounds like a fine name for a new band by the drummer, if he feels like bearing away from that "T" Theme). All tunes are penned by Canadians—one by Cervini himself—and all of them exude a zest for the creation and improvisation which makes all of Cervini's offerings so distinctive.

"Skeletons," written by James Hill, opens with Cervini's intricate drum intro, followed by a beefy fanfare of horns which drifts into a loose reverie leading into Tara Davidson's torrid alto saxophone turn, a bellicose trombone segment from William Carn, then a ripping tenor sax statement from Frahm. Then they do it again. And again. It is an invigorating experience. Then horns drop out as the rhythm section—which includes pianist Adrean Farrugia and bassist Dan Loomis, with Cervini in the drummer's chair—rambles and roams.

In line with much music that Cervini makes, A Canadian Songbook is bold music, the horn section is muscular, the rhythm team is vigorous, and all hands display virtuoso level musicianship. Is it jazz? Yes, but then there is some pop thrown in -"When I Fall" from the Barenaked Ladies songbook; and "Clumsy" from Toronto's Our Lady Peace. The former opens with a Carn trombone solo which seems to be lamenting an unidentified something and doing it beautifully; the latter seems to slither through the speakers in the beginning, before the band cranks things up a couple of notches, getting close to sounding a bit bombastic, before pulling back for an anguished, fire-breathing sax solo.

Like most recordings that Ernesto Cervini releases, A Canadian Songbook sounds like a good time, full of the joy of creation.