Featuring flautist, Chip Wickham, and recorded live to 2-inch analog tape at All Things Analogue Studios, Leeds, UK, this album is a living, breathing tribute to the golden age of soul-jazz — the electric alchemy of smoky clubs, Sunday afternoons at the record store, and the spiritual communion of groove and grit.
Drawing inspiration from luminaries like Ramsey Lewis, Les McCann, and Galt MacDermot, ATA sought to channel the Drawing inspiration from luminaries like Ramsey Lewis, Les McCann, and Galt MacDermot, ATA sought to channel the unmistakable energy of soul — the kind of jazz that hits your feet and hips first.
The core of the group is the rhythm section – ATA luminaries Sam Hobbs on drums and label owner Neil Innes on bass, augmented by Sam Bell on congas and John Ellis on piano and Wurlitzer. It would be invidious to pick out any one of these, when the group sound is so unified, so well-educated in every aspect, and so tight (in the best possible way – through an elastic, dynamic thread of sheer groove). Chip Wickham’s flutes (in the usual concert pitch and the lower, huskier alto model) add the melodic phrasing and tone shapes we love to hear, from whispers to wails, coming mighty close at times to the soul tones of the beloved vocals that defined the era.
The album features seven shades of soul-jazz, from the downhome strut of Walk On, through the New Orleans, prayer meeting influenced Run Tell That and the cooler, more detached soundtrack hipness of Cold Catch, to the joyous Sliced, Diced and Fried Twice – a reminder that music shares so much language and emotion with food, and the term soul applies to both. The Saint And The Stranger is yet another take on the more cinematic soul sound, with nods to the policier soundtracks of Cinevox, whilst Snick Snack gratifies our appetite for yet more hot, greasy blues. Finally, How Long Before You’re Gone rounds out the album with a groove that wouldn’t be out of place on a Nina Simone playlist, a reminder that there has always been more to soul-jazz than late nights and fried chicken.
'Doo Ha!' is a reminder that music has always been about feel, not files. A testament to ATA’s belief that sound — real sound — should be lived in, worn-in, and passed down like a well-loved record from one hand to the next.
Drawing inspiration from luminaries like Ramsey Lewis, Les McCann, and Galt MacDermot, ATA sought to channel the Drawing inspiration from luminaries like Ramsey Lewis, Les McCann, and Galt MacDermot, ATA sought to channel the unmistakable energy of soul — the kind of jazz that hits your feet and hips first.
The core of the group is the rhythm section – ATA luminaries Sam Hobbs on drums and label owner Neil Innes on bass, augmented by Sam Bell on congas and John Ellis on piano and Wurlitzer. It would be invidious to pick out any one of these, when the group sound is so unified, so well-educated in every aspect, and so tight (in the best possible way – through an elastic, dynamic thread of sheer groove). Chip Wickham’s flutes (in the usual concert pitch and the lower, huskier alto model) add the melodic phrasing and tone shapes we love to hear, from whispers to wails, coming mighty close at times to the soul tones of the beloved vocals that defined the era.
The album features seven shades of soul-jazz, from the downhome strut of Walk On, through the New Orleans, prayer meeting influenced Run Tell That and the cooler, more detached soundtrack hipness of Cold Catch, to the joyous Sliced, Diced and Fried Twice – a reminder that music shares so much language and emotion with food, and the term soul applies to both. The Saint And The Stranger is yet another take on the more cinematic soul sound, with nods to the policier soundtracks of Cinevox, whilst Snick Snack gratifies our appetite for yet more hot, greasy blues. Finally, How Long Before You’re Gone rounds out the album with a groove that wouldn’t be out of place on a Nina Simone playlist, a reminder that there has always been more to soul-jazz than late nights and fried chicken.
'Doo Ha!' is a reminder that music has always been about feel, not files. A testament to ATA’s belief that sound — real sound — should be lived in, worn-in, and passed down like a well-loved record from one hand to the next.
