Ringing in the New Year with Dino Saluzzi

I know, it’s a little late for a Best of 2025 list, and as most of you know, I don’t make “best of” lists. But I will add to my last compilation of random brain farts, Dino Saluzzi’s brilliant EL VIEJO CAMINANTE, with Jacob Young on steel string and electric, and Jose Saluzzi on nylon string guitars. It’s one of those sleepers: At first it didn’t seem like a lot was going on, but I kept coming back to it anyway. I even wound up transcribing the first two songs, which the Slo Mo Bros duo has now placed into its ever expanding repertoire. (There are well over 100 mostly “hand transcribed” tunes in our book now.) Honestly, I am tempted to transcribe the evocative and mysterious third tune “Quiet March” as well as several others. 

Dino Saluzzi turned 90 last year, and presents himself on this album as an artist with nothing to prove. Indeed, he doesn’t have to. From the beginning of his career, he forged a signature sound on the bandoneon that no one else can match. In that regard, he reminds me of the late Toots Thielmans, who also always sounded exactly like himself once he switched from guitar to chromatic harmonica, also an instrument which very few jazz players have had the fortitude to take on. Both Toots and Dino have a very unique manner of phrasing; both developed a unique way of “skittering across time” in a way that is wholly original and completely natural. Both are also incredibly melodic improvisers, and both were/are still performing at 90!

This album consists of four tunes penned by Saluzzi, three compositions by Jacob Young and one by Saluzzi’s son, Jose Marie; it is filled out with two standards, “Someday My Prince Will Come” and “My One and Only Love.” 

The album drips with a kind of laconic, nostalgia that makes one remember another life, a time when things were slower and more romantic. Occasionally dipping into melancholy, this poignant music glistens with the soft focus sheen of golden memories that have been polished to perfection over many well lived decades.

Saluzzi allows the younger players plenty of space to solo and oftentimes lays out and lets the guitars do the heavy lifting. But when he does solo, like all great improvisers, he is a fabulous storyteller. There is something so incredibly personal about the performances here. It’s almost as though you’re sitting in a room with these three players, sipping a glass of cognac around the fireplace, the flickering light filling the room with wistful comfort as your mind drifts to happier years long gone. It doesn’t matter that you never got the chance to visit old Buenos Aires because, by the end of the album, you almost feel as though you had.

The highest praise I can give this album is this: When we had guests over for New Year’s Eve dinner, this is the album I chose to put on. No one said anything about it, but everyone was feeling it warming the room, its simpatico melodies and textures gently wafting around the laughter and conversation as we rang in 2026, hoping against all odds for better times ahead.

Happy New Year to all.