People are always saying you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. What about an album? This record features images on BOTH the front and back of the sleeve of George showing lots of chest hair and with a white dove perched on his finger. How could I not judge at least a little?
Rock snobbery aside, I had no idea what to expect. I gleaned from the liner notes that George is from Holland. That didn’t really help, so I actually put the record on. My partner’s wife witnessed our inaugural listen and commented that it, “Sounds like music you’d hear in a Puerto Rican bar.”
So what the hell does it sound like? Parts of it are nearly klezmer. There are bits of Carribean music. A lot of it reminds me of the Latin ballads of Julio Iglesias. Most of the songs incorporate an “oom-pah” beat, strings, horns, and the cheesiest lyrics ever committed to vinyl. I’m guessing that English is not George’s first language.
Hold the presses! Pan flute solo. Wow, that totally makes it for me. This is the greatest album ever recorded. Someone please come to the swap and take it. Otherwise I’ll spend my work days dancing around the office to the dulcet tones of Mr. Baker and not getting anything productive done.