Dig Deep: The Jazz Minstrels – Party – PVY Productions (1980)

The Jazz Minstrels – Poopin’ The Sloop
The Jazz Minstrels – Oh Crakoke
The Jazz Minstrels – Dit Le Burguygnon

Remember how I was just telling y’all not to sleep on DJ Shadow’s Rappcats Storage Sale??? Well, here’s an example of why you don’t want to. Part of the joy, at least for record nerds such as I, of Shadow’s pop-up is that there is so much music that you’ve never seen before and likely never will again. Because I’ve been enthralled with private press and weird records, I almost always grab strange or interesting records to check out on my turntable. That was not the case initially with this record. This album was one that didn’t register a single bit of interest from me when I buzzed past it in the jazz bin early in the afternoon. Part of it is just the way it looks, but more the issue was that the record was sealed and given that, there was no way to check out if it was even worth a listen. Perhaps if the note below had been attached to the sealed copy, I would have given it a shot sight unseen, because if there’s one thing I trust, it’s a post-it with DJ Shadow’s handwriting on it mentioning “breaks.”

Well, thankfully, I was at the right place and the right time when Shadow himself decided to bless those of us still in attendance around 3pm on Saturday and hip us to this hidden treasure. He pulled out this copy, which had the above post-it on the front, unsealed it and then dropped the needle on the unbelievably titled lead track, “Poopin’ The Sloop.” My ears perked up once that slinky bass line hit, and I only got more intrigued as what I thought was a synthesizer, along with some super snappy drums, got added to the mix. But the kicker of course was the 40+ second massive, totally open drum break that happens 3/4’s of the way in. That thing was so dirty, my jaw literally dropped. I expected the album to be some kind of $1000 lost groove record from the early 1970s, featuring at least one well-known player, but nope. I’d never heard of any of these people and neither had Shadow.

This was a legit undiscovered album. Though there was a listing for it on Discogs, it had never been sold before, only one person actually had it in their collection and absolutely ZERO people wanted the album. A copy had shown up on Popsike, but the listing didn’t describe the music or seemingly knew that the album had not one, but TWO massive open drum breaks. I even contacted Cool Chris of Groove Merchant about the record, and he’d never heard of it either.

When I had my mini-freakout, there were already a couple of people by the turntable chatting about the record, so I thought there was absolutely no chance I’d be able to get it. As I was mulling whether my record karma had taken a turn for the worse, I thought to ask if he had extra copies. Sure enough, he said he did, which immediately sent me back to the jazz bins and happily finding that other, still sealed copy. Upon celebrating my good fortune, and trading the sealed copy for the one Shadow had opened, the other dude who had been flipping out over the album was crestfallen that he hadn’t thought to ask/go back to the bins. But, given the fact that absolutely no one, anywhere, had any idea how good this record was, we were able to find a copy for him on Ebay, a rare instance where everybody who wanted a rare record got it (I even hipped my good friend Oliver Wang of Soul-Sides to how massive that break was and he picked up the other copy of the album that was online)!!!

Once I got the record home I read more about the group and the instruments they were using and the rarity and unexpected funkiness of the album only became more intriguing. The Jazz Minstrels really took both parts of their name seriously. As you can see from the instrumentals pictured below on the back cover, the band really did play a number of medieval instruments and worked almost entirely with songs from the 13th & 15th centuries, mixed together with jazz, including a weird curved woodwind called the Krummhorn, which was what I initially had thought was a synthesizer, because who the fuck is ever going to think about anyone, EVER, playing a fucking Krummhorn!

Despite the way the record sounds, it says it was recorded in Jan/Feb of 1980. Given all of my many years of digging, I’ve rarely come across a record from 1980 or later that had such a great sound on the drums, or with such open, massive drum breaks. All of the tools I’ve gained over the years would have led me away from a record like this. It doesn’t entirely even make sense to me that an album like this even exists. Aside from how amazing “Poopin’ The Sloop” is (or how amazing it is that the track is called “Poopin’ The Sloop”), I just can’t comprehend why “Dit Le Burguygnon” switches from the whole medieval/renaissance vibe to all out jazz funk, before returning back to recorders and virginal playing. Slightly more logical is one of the other standout tracks, “Oh Crakoke,” with that strange mix of the medieval with the contemporary jazz sound of the group. Very unique sound, made all the more so because of how unknown the players are and when it was recorded.

25+ years in this record game and I still get surprised by how many things there are left to be discovered. And again, had I not gone to Shadow’s pop-up, or only gone on Sunday, or if I had left earlier on Saturday, I never would have even heard this and it would have remained a total mystery that had I run into any other copies, I likely would have skipped right over just because of how profoundly un-hip the record looks. I’ve run into some amazing records at Shadow’s Rappcats pop-ups, but this one definitely takes the cake and might be one of the top finds of my entire life. Yet another reminder that you should never judge a book/record by it’s cover, that you should always pay attention to weird/boring record covers and most importantly, when given a chance to peruse/get/chat records with one of the world’s best DJs and crate diggers, never ever ever NEVER sleep on that chance!