Tom Lonardo: Press

Collective fun with the Jumpin' Chi-Chi's and more
By Bill Ellis
For that jazz cat lurking inside, try the following CDs for some sophisticated purr-fection.
The five pros that compose the Jumpin' Chi-Chi's are a notable bunch: trumpeter/lead vocalist Reid McCoy; sax man Jim Spake; bassist Sam Shoup; keyboardist Tony Thomas, and drummer Tom Lonardo. It'd take a phone book, in fact, to list the sessions these locals have played on over the years.
But when it comes to simply cutting loose, they find collective fun as the Jumpin' Chi-Chi's, a jazzy quintet that, on its eponymous debut disc (self-released, ), aims to meet every Happy Hour mood. And that translates to a grab bag of self-penned, often ribald novelty numbers, from the jump blues of "322 Pearl Ave." (with its W. C. Fields-inspired lyrics) and Rufus Thomas-worthy funk in "Can't Get Down" to the Hawaiian-cast "Wicky Wacky" and a N'Awlins-meets-Bo Diddley vamp, "Let's Do Chi Chi." Virtuoso-delivered silliness has rarely sounded so good.

Calvin Newborn
UpCity
Yellow Dog Records
The music on UpCity was recorded at two sessions, in New York and in Memphis. The former was comprised of a quintet with Tony Reedus, Charles Thomas, Bill Easley, Bill Mobley and Jamil Nasser with Newborn, the latter had Tony Thomas and Tom Lonardo. One of the most captivating tunes comes in the form of his “Visions”. Newborn works the melody with finesse, playing it to its deepest felt, turning the groove to swing and then changing the tack with chunky, propulsive chords to cue in Thomas, who funks and shunts on the B-3, and Lonardo who feeds the pulse with a forge of rhythmic energy.

There is a comfortable, laidback quality to the recording that just feels like an old shoe, with plenty of joking around captured, including a tentative beginning to the Disney classic, "When You Wish Upon a Star," that coalesces before our ears into a touching moment of pure magic. Funny thing is, Dickinson admits his piano was tuned flat "and so was I," but it's proof perfect you don't have to have a multi-octave range to hit the emotional heart of the material. When he sings of being left at the alter in "The Talk of the Town," you feel the betrayal, and when he asks, "Who would know better than I?" about the "Hard Times," you feel the shiver, as Lonardo's brushes tickle the cymbal like a snake shaking its rattler. Jim Dickinson is the real deal, and conclusive proof that old is the new young.
— 04/16/2009