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Coyote Poets: Unmistakable Evidence

“It’s the bipolar part of town,” Unmistakable Evidence’s urbanely voiced, decidedly trippy narrator/shaman informs us on “Purgatory Avenue,” atop a rolling soundscape of token Sun Ra vamps, as though a queue of beat poets were waiting to come out and do their stuff.

Customary jazz fans-that is, anyone who tends to think of jazz in terms of idioms-won’t find much in the way of bop, free, swing or mainstream here, but there is a surplus of lounge jazz, albeit lounge jazz tweaked: elevated, even, to a series of form experiments and enigmas-how to apportion a rock groove, an Ecstasy house beat and Native American rhythmic chants (as on “Kaliwood”) so as to fit the format of what’s essentially a coffeehouse folk diversion. Heady.

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