Just like a slap bass or a low down sax sets the tone in Dixieland, James Teej’s obsession with low notes and muted tremors makes for a profound, gut-shaking experience. His latest collection of mixes and original compositions paints the late-night, after-hours club scene as a deeply mysterious, deeply cool place to visit. Lyrics casually flutter by like overheard conversations in a dream. The jazz influences are prominently set above the drum machine; chords wander, disappear behind curtains, reappear on the horizon, and then there they are, sitting right across from you. And that’s just one cut. Teej’s vocals are low and powerful, and while he lacks the rounded vowels of a professional announcer, he’s clear and concise even if his lyrics tend toward late-night mysticism. Occasional female vocals drift in, and about half way through this disc, I’m sitting in a bar where the only light comes from the back bar liquor display and recessed under-table lights. It’s way too elegant for words, and over far too quickly. Just as well, at $15 a pop, how many martinis can you afford? Get this disc, it’s nearly as good and just as relaxing.