Most of the nouveau swing bands can’t hack it. They’re all manned by guys with sideburns playing the same songs at the same tempo wearing the same clothes. They lack several things that the classic swing bands of the ’30s and ’40s such as Benny Goodman, Chick Webb, Jimmie Lunceford and Count Basie all had: The new kids on the block don’t do ballads and don’t smoke enough reefer. However, on the long-awaited Johnny Angel and the Swinging Demons debut record, they at least perform several slower tunes and sound like they play just far enough behind the beat to indicate smoking of some kind.

The record starts off with a monologue detailing the ins and outs of swing life in New Orleans in the year 2000. Spoken in a Bridge and Tunnel accent by someone named Manny Medici, it is a suitable beginning to this album filled with both good music and the attending attitude. The record has a little bit of the murky texture of the swing recordings of old. Unlike many of the new swing CDs today, this one is not too bright or too defined. This is good because the listener has to pay attention to hear all the nuances in the arrangements and rhythms. However, the flip side of that is that the vocals lack some clarity and enunciation. The lyrics are excellent, but on several songs such as “Saturday Night Saloon” and “Wing It,” it is difficult to understand what the singers are saying.

Other than that, this is a good swing record. The band is tight. The horns riff like they are either really in need of a drink or they just had a good belt or three off the bottle. The soloists bray and squawk on their horns at all the right moments. Especially good are Tim Laughlin on clarinet and Kevin Clark on trumpet. The songs run the range from swift dance tunes and humorous duets to torch songs and bluesy laments. Their version of “Dragnet” jumps out of the speakers sounding like Duke Ellington’s band in the late ’20s and early ’30s. Also note well Johnny Angel’s original song “Red Lipstick.” Its atmospheric, mysterious drums and film noir guitar combine with Julia La Shae’s smoky vocals to give a new twist to the old story of a woman with a yearning that she can’t name nor satisfy.