"Full of wit, charm, and elegance"

Thanks to Amos Perrine for his very kind words in No Depression—our first review in this authoritative journal of American roots music:

I first saw Chaise Lounge by accident a couple years back, and what I thought might be a tragically hip retro band turned out to be completely the opposite. Much like Chris Siebert, who leads Lavay Smith’s band, and Thomas Lauderdale of Pink Martini, Charlie Barnett keeps the band’s eye firmly focused on the musical prize, but with a dry martini on the side.
Their latest, Gin Fizz Fandango, is at once playful and seductive jazz, sometimes with gorgeous vocals by Marilyn Older, and other times it’s Joe Jackson’s trombone that makes you feel you are in the middle of a Fellini movie, as he evokes ghosts of Nino Rota.
This, their seventh album since 1999, is full of wit, charm, and elegance that could only come from a jazz band harkening back to the golden age, but without a fatal sense of nostalgic irony. The disc is full of originals, save for one Cole Porter tune. Like a gin fizz, Chaise Lounge tickles not only your senses, but your fancy as well. The album is out now, so tango on over.

Our "swoonworthy" new album!

The first review for Gin Fizz Fandango just rolled in, and it’s a corker. Thanks to Carol Banks Weber of the AXS entertainment site for this rave:

In Chaise Lounge’s seventh album, there’s swoonworthy original music, a timely reference to downloadable lyrics and chords, and a recipe for Gin Fizz Fandango (provided by the band’s bassist, Pete Ostle). Gin Fizz Fandango also happens to be the title track of a new album, released on Sept. 10, 2015 (Modern Songbook Records).
This is no ordinary jazz album. This is what they call a “cheeky” character album full of flirty flights of fancy perpetrated by musicians who take on the air of guys and dolls in a ballroom brawl — all in good fun.
The D.C. sextet features Charlie Barnett on guitar and piano, vocalist Marilyn Older, bassist Pete Ostle, percussionist Tommy Barrick, trombonist Joe Jackson, and reed man Gary Gregg. Barnett, a film composer, wrote 11 of the 12 songs, save for Cole Porter’s “It’s All Right With Me.” Older plays piano on two tracks.
Chaise Lounge has been around since 1999, when the musicians jammed together at one of Barnett’s recording sessions. Ever since, they’ve jammed all over the country on the strength of a tight rhythm section, limber horn players, and the sweet, Betty Boop vocal style of Older.
The music is as retro-hip — think the Depression and the Prohibition, circa 1920-‘30s — as it gets, gently swinging, a little tongue-in-cheek in the hopscotch lyrics, tickling traces of a forgotten soundtrack from another era, even daring in places (a horn vocalese from the actual “Hopscotch”).
The overall vibe does feel like sipping on a fizzy cocktail, the bubbles tickling your nose, whether trombonist Jackson slides in on a slinky tango throughout the “Gin Fizz Fandango” instrumental or Older swinging on a pop song like “You,” where the lyrics go down as easy as the spring in the step of the horn players.
“You’s” particularly fetching for its cute, clever use of tempo to swing fast and slow, to a tantalizing crawl on the bridge home (“here’s where we end once we circle again, let’s drive real slow breathing in as we go”). Older also does quite a nice rap over the swizzle stick of horns at the 3/4th mark without faltering or needing a breather: “You accidentally brush my leg, and I go falling hard again, all you have to do is breathe your perfect love inside of me.”
Chaise Lounge isn’t a sit-and-listen band. The musicians play serious retro-dance grooves, the kind that would give the “Dancing With The Stars” cast a serious workout. Listen and bust out the moves on “Mambo Noir.” Be silly with the children tip-toeing around in a game of Hide-and-Seek on “Pigs In Blankets.” Slow-waltz in a timeless haze on “If I Never Get To Paris,” mostly on trombonist Joe Jackson and pianist Charlie Barnett’s melodic lines. Do the tap-dance shuffle with grandpa on “Celestial Navigation.” Older scat-hums (la-da-da-da-da-dum) through this gem of a closer.
Lest you assume it’s all fun and games over at Chaise Lounge’s Gin Fizz Fandango, the band turns down the lights for the grim emotional reaper, “I See You.” Older turns up the lonely, still sweet but sweetly aching for the fulfillment of real recognition “when the world looks the other way, I look in your eyes and say, ‘I see you.’” This one’s pure vocals, pure bliss, with the musicians mostly keeping time and exacerbating the loneliness and fear — pianist Barnett pressing urgency in only a handful of chords over and over, bassist Ostle illuminating the darkness, Gregg sampling a taste of that exquisite agony on his sax.
The true test of a remarkable band is its schedule. Chaise Lounge’s is jam-packed. The next performance is 8 p.m. March 4 at the Montpelier Arts Center in Laurel, Md., then 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. April 6 at Blues Alley in D.C.

Bottoms up!

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It’s our newest instrumental number. It’s the name of our upcoming CD. And now, thanks to resident Chaise Lounge mixologist Pete Ostle, “Gin Fizz Fandango” is also a cocktail! Band members dutifully taste-tested Pete’s concoction at our rehearsal Monday night and pronounced it both frothy and delicious.
We hope that bartenders at The Hamilton will be serving the drink at our show there this Friday, April 17. But if you just can’t wait, you can make one at home. Here’s Pete’s recipe:
1½ oz. gin
1 oz. St. Germaine
1 oz. fresh lemon juice
1 oz. simple syrup
1 oz. table cream
1 egg white or 1 heaping bar spoon of dried egg white powder
Peychaud’s cocktail bitters
Put all ingredients except Peychaud’s bitters into a cocktail shaker. Shake well with ice. Strain into a stemmed up-glass such as a martini glass. To decorate, garnish with a few shakes of Peychaud’s on top.

What's in a name?

We’ve been back in the studio for the past couple of weeks, adding a few tracks our new CD. When we started the project last year, it was going to be called Tick Tock, after a dark, moody new song we had. Later, we decided to name the album Mambo Noir, after an even darker, moodier, newer song. As of last week, we’re sure that the album will be called Gin Fizz Fandango, after the newest song we’ve performed so far. The track is a trombone feature, and Joe Jackson sounds fantastic on it. The feel? You guessed it—dark and moody. The rest of the album is full of peppy, bright, and happy tracks. But for some reason these never seem like good names for albums. Can someone tell us why this is? We’re getting all dark and moody trying to figure it out.