"A protegé of Bob Brookmeyer, Sanford has a warm, unforced sound. He solos with clear direction while avoiding overplay. . ."
-- Jeff Potter, DownBeat Magazine

"'Can You Believe It?' presents a well-rounded and well-crafted set that shows Sanford and company breezily settling into broad stylistic terrain, jazz naturally but funk, rock, R&B, and Latin, too."
-- Textura

"'Can You Believe It?' places the young trombonist in a small group context – with guitarist Mike Baggetta, bassist Dave Ambrosio and drummer Russ Meissner – where there is a greater emphasis on improvisation and more opportunity to hear what this particular pair of golden ears hear on their days off."
-- Cormac Larkin, Irish Times

"'Can You Believe It?' . . . features Sanford’s big, breathy tone and versatile array of original compositions."
-- Britt Robson, Minneapolis Star Tribune


Let's start by acknowledging the elephant in the room. JC Sanford – the go-to music conductor for the forward-looking bands of John Hollenbeck, Joel Harrison, Alan Ferber and others, including the legendary Alice Coltrane – has been overlooked as a trombonist.
This is partly JC's own doing. For the past decade and more, when not conducting someone else’s band, JC has spent much of his energies writing and arranging for his own equally forward-looking large ensembles: first in conjunction with David Schumacher (Edge of the Mind, 2009), then on his own (Views from the Inside, 2014). JC also was busy curating “Size Matters,” the weekly, much-heralded, cleverly-titled large ensemble series at the Tea Lounge in his Brooklyn neighborhood of Park Slope.
And yes: intuitively as well as trivially, size does matter. But it’s not everything that matters; sound matters, too. JC’s trombone tone is one I find I crave even as I’m listening to it, like relishing a friend’s voice you haven’t heard in years. It’s not the effortless sound of a JJ Johnson; not the frictionless tone of JC’s mentor Bob Brookmeyer; but also not the extroverted, rough-edged sonority of a Ray Anderson or Craig Harris. JC’s tone suggests the human voice in all its expressive texture, occupying about the same conversational range as the voice of this thoughtful, vegan, animal-loving adult male. There’s breath in it, not breathlessness. When JC solos, you hear a sound that is (weirdly) distinctive yet familiar, exploratory yet grounded like home.
All the tunes, save one, are JC’s. Can You Believe It? captures the scrappy fortitude of JC’s beloved 2004 Boston Red Sox team and their astonishing come-from-behind World Series victory. That’s BoSox announcer Joe Castiglione opening the proceedings, after which Mike Baggetta's distorted guitar enters as if on steroids. The shifting meter will throw you off like a good slider. The lovely line of Forest Hills dates from JC’s New England Conservatory days. It recalls his peaceful walks in that Boston cemetery with his dog Pepper, who liked to pause and sniff the redolent air. DumPac is all about that 7/4 drum groove that Russ Meissner sets down. Sometimes it’s accentuated by its melodic surroundings, but elsewhere – as in the opening of JC’s brilliant solo – it seems to hover stealthily in the background. Ja-chan on Patrol is a stop-and-start, melodramatic tale whose hero is Jazu, JC’s mouse-stalking cat. The slide-guitar textures at the end of Mike’s solo make me think some poor creature’s lost her footing, scrabbling across the linoleum.
Yamete is one of the first Japanese words JC learned from his wife, composer Asuka Kakitani, since she used it so often while they were dating. David Ambrosio spells out the title with a 3-beat riff; then it’s as if JC’s trombone noodles around for a translation (or maybe feigns cluelessness) until the insistent 2-beat drum riff teaches him the English equivalent. (“Stop It!”) John Scofield’s backcountry line Easy for You gets a stunning rubato treatment from all involved. Try to close your mouth as Mike’s guitar weaves echoes of Jim Hall and Chet Atkins together without skipping a thread. Chico’s First Date is JC’s tribute to the late Chico O’Farrill. The band approaches this tuneful, Latin-dance feel, AABA structure without a whiff of irony, but you still know that the mystery implied by those minor-key outer sections won’t last long. JC’s soaring trombone on the major-key bridge – especially on his solo and in the outro – is all jollification and merry-making. All in all, sounds like a good first date.

--Bill Day