1976 A. R. Luciani “Jazz In Libertà” on Lupus Records

Without question a top-ten Library title for me, and that’s saying something, because I believe as of this year’s crop of cotton candy and yellow-spatter RSD releases, there are now appox 76 million Library records on Discogs to choose from. And that’s really only the French ones. Fortunately, with the MIGHTY LUCIANI, we are firmly in Italy, and the very smoothest pocket of its jazzy, synth-heavy, deeply cinematic Roman musical ruins. Killer snare-y backbeat leading into fonky organ leading into Waldron-eque piano runs with deep stand up bass throbs beneath, just to lead off track one? Check check and check. Then off to Latinate Rio for some faux bossa that’s so lounge-slick it should be illegal. Then some blaxsploitation Roy Ayers-ish organ comping built entirely around a hi hat. Now HERE, my friends, is an object lesson in how to start a goddamn album.

​Even better, although it sounds super hip and vintage, it does not at all sound like 1976. If anything it sounds like a 1968 spiritual hash oik ceremony in a gothic cathedral in Florence where everyone is rocking John Cale shades, Mitch Mitchell zip-up boots, and mutton chops. Luciani was a prolific composer (He’s also “Peymont” and “Turicoli” and “Complesso “R.T.” on various other quality Library records) and an absolute boss on the Hammond. Complesso is Italian for Complex, which fits like a silk toga on our man. I dunno, this stuff is just so URBANE, you know? It’s utterly suave and grooving, but also self-contained. This is seduction music, no matter what particulars your amorous tastes run to. All I know is, I just keep flipping the record over and over, and every time it hits the runout I want a cigarette.