Layering up to the sky

Think overdubbing has no place in jazz? Well, you won't be flying with Les McCann if you do. His Layers album was the first 32-track recording (remember when musicians were actually limited by tape?), and damned if he didn't just let himself keep adding the...um... layers. And yet, like a finely packed suitcase, those layers don't overstuff the songs. Case in point...

Les McCann - Soaring (Part 1)

Music for babies' expanding minds

From the minimalist tension of Friday's track to the wide-eyed wonder of these Japanese new agers. I don't know why I have a near-endless attention span for this kind of stuff. Maybe it's because I can imagine a 2-year-old version of myself looping it in his head while making all kinds of discoveries about water and clouds. At any rate, Yellow Magic Orchestra's Haruomi Hosano produced this, and that alone can be your official seal of quality.

Inoyama Land - Glass Chaim

Rising sun

You know you've had a solid rustic weekend recharge when a nugget of sunny Japanese new age fusion feels like the most natural thing to reach for. Me and the Catskills are becoming good buddies, and I'm liking that development. I hereby pronounce myself ready to deal with the forthcoming workweek aggravations. Check back with me in 15 minutes to see how that mental state is holding up.

Osamu Kitajima - Hear The Rain, See It Fall

Slow and whoa

More mellowness required. May as well go full on ridiculous with it. I saw these guys play once, and they enacted every zonked-out visual signifier the music suggests. Including actual rose-tinted sunglasses. At night. Still, give 'em respect. They have their thing, and they're sticking to it. Forget sleeping under the stars. This is music to evaporate or decompose to.

Brightblack Morning Light - All We Have Broken Shines