These days the New York City jazz scene is filled with klezmer-influenced musicians: guys like John Zorn and David Krakauer, who learn the minor-keyed melodies of their Jewish grandparents and subsequently tear it to pieces, driving forward while also looking back. There's just something magical about klezmer: it's all about energy and swing, but it's also (almost always) tinged with sadness. Which brings us to Naftule Brandwein. Brandwein was unique back in the '20s and '30s (he'd be unique now, too), a legendary self-promoter, drinker, gambler, but--most of all--player. Unlike that of Dave Tarras, the delicate and couth klezmer artist we all remember, Brandwein's music is loud and sweeping; he's a powerhouse on the clarinet. Rumor has it he played with his back to the crowd (à la Miles Davis) because he didn't want the competition stealing his moves. Decades later the jazz underground has. This is an essential album in the Yiddish-American musical canon and a gorgeous reissue of a musical genius. --Jason Verlinde