Bob Dorough
Too Much Coffee Man (Blue Note 99239)

Bob Dorough's major label debut Right On My Way Home was a totally appropriate tour de force by an artist who'd been toiling in relative obscurity for decades. That Dorough is only now, in his mid-70s, getting the attention he always deserved, is something of a classic music business payback – sort of like when they give lifetime achievement Oscars to people who've been in countless films but have never actually won a damn thing. Bob Dorough is such a unique talent that he ought to have been given the chance to record album after album of his quirky vocal jazz, but at least he's getting some kind of shot at success now. What I question is, whose shot is it?

The new album, Too Much Coffee Man, sounds like a record label executive's idea of how Bob Dorough might break through to the masses that are snapping up all those Diana Krall albums by the wheelbarrowful. Where Right On My Way Home sounded fresh and poppin', this disc just kinda sits there, percolating pleasantly. I would hardly say it's a bad album at all, but I guess on some level I'm a bit disappointed at such a "normal" album from Dorough.

That said, a "normal" album from Bob Dorough is still quite quirky compared to like a Tony Bennett CD or something. Bob's sense of humor (which fueled so many of the most memorable "Schoolhouse Rock" tunes as well as the previous CD) always shines through, as does his absolute love of jazz. My main issue with Too Much Coffee Man is that it seems a bit warmed-over, almost like it was cobbled together from Right On My Way Home outtakes.

This disc is quite love-song heavy, which is fine, as Dorough's way with a love song is always witty and sweet. "There's Never Been a Day" and "Yesterday, I Made Your Breakfast" are standouts, as heartfelt as anything and just generally winning. Some of the tracks on here, though, strive for the sort of crackpot genius that was attained on stuff like "Something For Sidney" off the last album, but miss the mark a bit. "Too Much Coffee Man" and "The Coffee Song" are fine, but would come off a little less irritating if they were bolstering an overall stronger album.

Too many of the other tracks kind of sit there doing nothing ("Where is the Song," "I've Got Just About Everything," "Fish For Supper"), and a new recording of Bob's "pop-art" classic "Love (Webster's Definition)" feels a bit tacked on (I wish someone would reissue the original pop-art album and make it more widely available). The playing is good but a bit generic (even the amazing Phil Woods doesn't really stand out here, as Joe Lovano did on the previous disc).

The expanded instrumentation here includes Hammond B-3, extra percussion, guitar, and even additional vocalists, all serving to make this a very listenable, if ultimately kinda forgettable release. It's the kind of thing they should sell at Starbucks, because it would really fit in there and that seems to be the ideal market for a disc like this. I don't know, I feel stupid not loving this album for not being hilarious enough or whatever, but it's just a little too streamlined for my taste.

Any new release from Bob Dorough is welcome, of course, and this one does seem to reward repeat listens. Problematically, it doesn't really inspire repeat listens (the fairly hideous album cover doesn't help). I'd still recommend this overall, as it's a good listen and Dorough is always interesting, but be aware that it's essentially a straightahead jazz record. Not a bad thing, but not what I want from Dorough.

Loud Bassoon rating scale

Review by Traintracker