Mood Ellington

Mood Ellington is one of the year's best jazz vocal albums — impeccably arranged, deeply felt, and sung with a baritone that knows these songs inside out.

Paul Marinaro approached Mood Ellington with a smart concept: take 25 Ellington and Strayhorn tunes and group them by feel — love songs, darker ballads, and the more grounded, grown-up material — then bring in 13 arrangers to give each tune its own color. The result isn't really three separate moods — they overlap and drift into each other — and the whole album feels like one long, warm stroll through Ellington and Strayhorn's universe, with Marinaro's baritone guiding the way.

The opener, "I'm Beginning to See the Light," sets the tone right away. The horns come out swinging — bright brass hits, clean unison lines — and Marinaro steps right into the middle of that sound with a crisp, confident delivery. His diction is razor sharp, he plays with the beat effortlessly, and the vibrato he adds to the end of a phrase gives the tune a nice lift. The trumpet jumps forward with a sharp, well-shaped solo, and the bass lays down a supple, rolling counterpoint.

Everything softens on "A Flower Is A Lovesome Thing." The trombone opens with a gorgeous, velvet tone, and Marinaro eases into the melody with a measured, contemplative touch. He stretches his phrases, leans into the lyric, and matches Strayhorn's elegance without ever getting precious about it. It's one of the many standout tracks here — voice, arrangement, and mood all perfectly aligned.

That mix of clarity, restraint, and swing carries through the whole album. Whether it's a big-band burner, a quiet ballad, or one of the more shadowy tunes, Marinaro never forces anything. He plays with dynamics, tugs on the tempo just enough to shape a line, keeps his tone clear and right on target. The band behind him — stacked with top Chicago players — handles every arrangement with confidence, slipping easily between lush string writing, small-group intimacy, and bold horn voicings.

"I Got It Bad (and That Ain't Good)" is especially striking. He slows it way down, almost whispering the opening, letting the vibrato roll gently through the longer notes. When the bass solos, matching the way Marinaro shapes those long, easy lines, the tune settles into a quiet groove that pulls you in.

Even the softer moments have a lot of shine to them. "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" jumps in with a clean, no-nonsense setup — guitar keeping a steady pocket, the drums flicking in light but purposeful accents. When Marinaro enters, he sounds completely at ease, slipping between softer phrases and bursts of bigger, ringing tone. The brass hits with bright, confident color, and the band leans into his flexible phrasing, responding to his subtle pushes and pulls in time.

"Take Love Easy" slips into a relaxed groove, brass easing the tune forward while the guitar keeps things warm underneath. Marinaro sings it with a natural softness — not holding back, just choosing his moments — and it fits the tune's unhurried mood. The strings blend right in, and the sax solo arcs gracefully over the band. Marinaro's feel for time really comes through here: he'll stretch a phrase just a touch or linger on a word in a way that feels like he's letting the tune breathe at its own pace.

What makes Mood Ellington work is how unified it feels. With so many arrangers and styles in play, this could've ended up feeling like a sampler. Instead, Marinaro holds it together with the steadiness of his delivery and his feel for the ebb and flow built into Duke's writing. Everything still sounds unmistakably Ellington — just polished and sung with real affection.

By the time the last track fades, it's clear: Mood Ellington is one of the year's best jazz vocal albums — impeccably arranged, deeply felt, and sung with a baritone that knows these songs inside out.