Shifting Rooms, Steady Grooves
A Jazz Matters Reflection by My Cousin Ray The end of May feels like a bookmark in the year. As I pack up the house and move into a new chapter, I’ve found myself listening a little deeper, seeking something in the music that offers a thread of consistency. This mix was built in moments—between lifting boxes, checking property listings, and carving out time to imagine what the next phase of Jazz Matters could look like.The selections here aren’t just placeholders. They mean something personal in a time of transition. If you’ve ever felt the emotional pull of packing your life into cardboard or the thrill of imagining your next creative space, this one’s for you.
Playlist:
1. Steps Ahead – Beirut
2. Morten Schantz – Godspeed
3. Peter Erskine, John Beasley, Janek Gwizdala – Bourges Buenos Aires
4. Nguyên Lê – Burning of the Midnight Lamp
5. The Brother Moves On – Umthandazo Wamagenge
6. Geri Allen, David Murray & Terri Lyne Carrington – The Nurturer
7. Aziza – Aziza Dance (feat. Dave Holland, Chris Potter, Lionel Loueke, Eric Harland)
8. The Cookers – The Call of the Wild and Peaceful Heart
9. Mark de Clive-Lowe, Shigeto, Melanie Charles – The Creator Has a Master Plan Part II
10. Morgan Guerin – With a Peace of Mind, Pt. 2 (feat. Risa Pearl)________________________________________
The Mix: Piece by Piece I start with Steps Ahead – “Beirut”. There's something cinematic about this track. It feels like movement—slow pans across landscapes, emotional crescendos layered in melody. For me, it echoes the physical and emotional shifts I’ve been navigating. Morten Schantz’s “Godspeed” brings a touch of sleek, cosmic energy. His synth textures float through the track like the ambient hum of dreams not yet realised. It’s hopeful but slightly chaotic—fitting, really. Then there’s Peter Erskine, John Beasley, and Janek Gwizdala’s “Bourges Buenos Aires”—a track that glides between moods and geographies. The way it travels through rhythmic landscapes reminded me of the mental flights I've taken lately, hopping between old memories and future possibilities.
Nguyên Lê’s “Burning of the Midnight Lamp” takes Hendrix’s spirit and reimagines it in full technicolour jazz fusion. A powerful rework—raw, soulful, intense. It’s a reminder that reinvention isn’t just about starting anew, but honouring what came before. The Brother Moves On – “Umthandazo Wamagenge” pulls us deeper. There’s ritual and history embedded in the sound. It’s emotionally rich—spiritual jazz with edge and soul. It held my attention in a way few tracks can, urging stillness and reflection. I had to include Geri Allen, David Murray, and Terri Lyne Carrington’s “The Nurturer”—a trio that captures everything I love about expressive jazz interplay. Their performance feels like a warm hand on your shoulder, reminding you that you’re not alone in times of change. Then comes Aziza – “Aziza Dance”, with heavyweights Dave Holland, Chris Potter, Lionel Loueke, and Eric Harland. It’s intricate and joyful—a mesh of rhythm, groove, and brilliance. It made me feel like my plans are falling into place, even if the path is still winding.
The Cookers’ “The Call of the Wild and Peaceful Heart” is as epic as the title suggests. A powerful collective energy that sounds like resolve. I needed that presence—a reminder of purpose and momentum. Mark de Clive-Lowe, Shigeto, and Melanie Charles give us “The Creator Has a Master Plan Part II”, a retelling of Pharoah Sanders’ spiritual classic. This version feels new, yet reverent. It's meditative, yet kinetic. It feels like looking back and forward at once. Finally, Morgan Guerin’s “With a Peace of Mind, Pt. 2” (feat. Risa Pearl) brings the journey to a close with elegance and a sense of emotional clarity. His work consistently feels like a deep breath. After all the movement, this is where I landed—temporarily still.
A Few Words About Transition Moving house isn’t just physical. It disrupts rhythm, routines, and the little things that make a space feel like home. But in that disruption, there’s potential. I’ve been viewing each track in this mix as a sonic room—each one a space I stepped into while the real-world rooms around me emptied out. Jazz, for me, has always been about adaptation. Improvisation isn’t just a musical technique—it’s a way to navigate life. In moments when plans change or timelines shift, I’ve learned to listen closely, adjust, and trust the next note. This mix isn’t about perfect sequencing or a single genre thread. It’s a collection of voices, stories, moods—each reflecting my current mindset: a little scattered, hopeful, and deeply connected to music as a constant in flux.
Looking Ahead By September, if all goes to plan, Jazz Matters will have a brand-new home studio—a dedicated space to push this project further than ever. For now, things will be a little sporadic. I may not be able to share mixes on the regular, but when I do, they’ll be meaningful. These aren’t just playlists—they're reflections. Thanks for sticking with me. Your support makes this journey possible. Please enjoy the music I love.