The music of the mythical Mudfoot Jones swings, boogies, rocks, and sways like a congregation ought to when it’s calling up the Spirit. A creation of the cerebral, celebratory Basement Boys, this somewhat cranky old Louisiana-born blues drummer (his fictive personality will come through in spoken yet unobtrusive snippets) has an amazing talent for composition. Jazz (including Latin and Afro-Caribbean), funk, blues and gospel found their way into the big toe of Mudfoot’s pedal-stompin’ foot; suiting, given his name is derived from his proclivity as a child for banging and beating on all things that made a good, loud sound. Oh, yes, the Basement Boys will have you stomping your feet, too—and wiggling your backside, and for those who are meant to be moved, swaying, during some of the sweeter moments. Seems Mudfoot’s roots are deep in the swamp, but his head is almost as high up as heaven. His spirit was conjured on a flight to Japan; so, too those of St. Germain, Mr. Scruff, and John Lee Hooker. During that flight some of the best earthly sounds were heard, way up there in the stratosphere, coming through crystal clear over the roar of jet engines; the spirit of Man was down there in the dirt, singing of his glorious musical history. Our scribes needed only put their proverbial pens to paper. Mmm, mmm. Love the smell of that sweet, swampy funk.