#slowjam

Listen to three tracks from Joël Vandroogenbroeck’s 1978 album 'Images of Flute in Nature' recorded for the Italian library 'Cenacolo' (M 721).

You cannot see Joël Vandroogenbroeck here as he is on the reverse of the album sleeve, but just judging him by the shallow criterion of appearance alone, he is your archetypal Northern European 1970s prog jazzer. Replete with slightly frizzy shoulder length hair (receding, natch) and beard (but no moustache) he would also sit comfortably in any number of 70s films about urban left wing politics and/ or communal living in Amsterdam, Berlin, Stockholm, Copenhagen et al. Neither would he look out of place in an enchanted forest playing home made woodwind instruments with the pixies, trolls and dryads, as there is a distinct touch of the Bill Baileys about him. Luckily for us, he is neither of these stereotypes but a serious multi-instrumentalist muso, playing various synths, the harp, mellotron, some Indian and African percussion and the zanza, as well as his trade mark flute; the jazzy flute that he finds pretty much impossible to remove from his mouth as he skips through the naïve forest depicted on the album's front cover.

And here is where the trouble lies- flute. I hadn't actually realised that jazz flute was even a 'thing' until I saw the movie 'Anchor Man' in which Will Ferrel does his table dancing schtick. Really? It's something to take the piss out of? Well it would seem so, and I sadly have the misfortune to live with someone who doesn't just take the piss out of it, she actively fears it. It is not at all unusual for me to be quietly minding my own business, listening to say, a Duke Pearson record, when my beloved will shout "Flute!" the way that normal people would shout "Fire!" or "Shark!" (or possibly "Morrissey!")