by Jane Lambert

Remembering Blind Boone: Ken Lovern Turns History Into Music

There is something fitting about ending a story with a song called “Good Things.” After the hardship, uncertainty and extraordinary circumstances explored throughout Blind Boone the Musical, Ken Lovern’s fourth and final single arrives with a sense of warmth and forward motion. It settles into the groove and lets the music do what it does best – brings people together.

At the centre of the track is Lisa Henry, whose vocals give “Good Things” its human warmth. There is an easy to her performance that immediately draws you in. She is surrounded by the unmistakable sound of OJT (Organ Jazz Trio), the Kansas City organ-jazz outfit with whom Lovern spent more than thirteen years performing at the city’s Green Lady Lounge.

That history matters. Lovern isn’t approaching organ jazz as an aesthetic borrowed for the occasion; it is part of his musical vocabulary. The Hammond organ sits comfortably at the heart of the arrangement, giving the track its earthy character while the rhythm section keeps everything moving with the relaxed confidence of musicians who know exactly where the groove is. And then there is Robert Rebeck’s shaker.

It might sound like a small detail, but it is precisely those details that give “Good Things” its personality. The shaker adds another rhythmic layer to the arrangement, contributing to the sense that this is music made to be experienced physically. You can feel the pulse as much as hear it.

Listen here:

The emphasis on groove is central to Lovern’s wider approach. His work on Blind Boone the Musical has never been about creating a museum piece reconstruction of nineteenth-century music. Instead, he takes the history of Boone and filters it through the musical traditions that have shaped his own life: jazz, ragtime, blues, gospel, classical music and contemporary American sounds. “Good Things” perhaps captures that philosophy better than any of the previous singles.

The earlier releases have taken listeners through very different chapters of Boone’s story. “Quindaro” looked towards his family’s history and the search for freedom. “School for the Blind” explored the young Boone’s developing musical abilities. “Boone Plays It Back” introduced the virtuoso and the extraordinary talent that would eventually make him a celebrated performer. Here, the atmosphere is different.

That doesn’t mean the track ignores the complexity behind Boone’s story. Quite the opposite. The warmth of “Good Things” feels more meaningful because we know what has come before it. Boone’s achievements existed alongside blindness, racism, exploitation and the many barriers faced by Black performers in nineteenth and early twentieth-century America. To end the project’s sequence of singles with a song that embraces optimism feels less like glossing over those realities and more like acknowledging the resilience that allowed Boone to overcome them.

There is also a pleasing circularity to the release. Lovern began this project after discovering Boone’s story almost by accident, becoming fascinated by a musician who had once been famous enough for a Kansas City theatre to bear his name but had since slipped from popular memory. Now, through these songs, Boone’s story is being placed back into the musical conversation. “Good Things” works because Lisa Henry’s vocals, OJT’s organ driven groove and Rebeck’s percussion combine into something loose, soulful and unmistakably alive.

And perhaps that is exactly how this chapter should end. Not with a solemn farewell, but with real groove. Not with the past being put to bed, but with the feeling that there is more music still to discover. With “Good Things,” Ken Lovern closes the singles campaign for Blind Boone the Musical on an uplifting note.

About Ken Lovern

Ken Lovern is a Kansas City based composer, jazz organist and storyteller whose work blends the influences of jazz, ragtime, blues, gospel, classical and American roots music. He is the creator, composer and lyricist behind Blind Boone the Musical, an original historical musical fantasy exploring the life of Missouri pianist and composer John William “Blind” Boone.

Lovern has spent more than three decades performing and composing across a wide range of musical styles. For more than thirteen years, he played Hammond organ with his group OJT (Organ Jazz Trio) at Kansas City’s legendary Green Lady Lounge, performing four or five nights a week and becoming a familiar presence in the city’s celebrated jazz scene. His jazz compositions can also be heard across numerous OJT releases, including the album Ground Level.

With Blind Boone the Musical, Lovern combines his experience as a live jazz musician with theatrical storytelling to bring the remarkable story of Blind Boone to contemporary audiences. The full project, including vinyl and CD editions and a companion graphic novel, is set for release September 2, 2026.

08.04.26

by Jane Lambert

George Collins Turns Happiness Into a Groove with Soulful New Single “Happiness Looks Good on You”

There is something wonderfully underestimated about a genuinely happy song. Not a song that simply throws a few optimistic words over a predictable melody, but a song that understands that joy requires honesty. Happiness is most powerful when it has been earned; when it comes after uncertainty, disappointment and the inevitable twists and turns that life throws our way.

George Collins understands this perfectly. With “Happiness Looks Good on You,” he avoids the trap of writing a simple feel good anthem. Forget trying to box it neatly into one genre. Americana? Soul? Roots? Gospel? New Orleans rhythm and blues? The truth is that great songs rarely care about the labels we attach to them. They simply find their own space, and Collins’s latest offering does exactly that. Drawing inspiration from the timeless sounds of artists such as The Staple Singers, Dr. John, Allen Toussaint, and The Neville Brothers, he creates a track that feels both familiar and completely alive.

Listen in here:

From the opening moments, “Happiness Looks Good on You” carries a warmth that is impossible to resist. The Hammond organ rolls gently beneath the arrangement, the horns add flashes of colour and excitement and the groove settles into that rare space where sophistication and pure enjoyment exist side by side. It’s music made by people who understand that sometimes the best songs are the ones that make you instinctively move before you even realise you’re doing it.

But beneath the irresistible rhythm sits the real strength of the song: the writing. Collins is not interested in pretending that happiness is effortless. Here, he celebrates the people who have endured difficult chapters and come out stronger on the other side. It is a song about friendship, encouragement and the quiet victories that deserve to be recognised.

And then comes the gospel choir, taking the track from uplifting to genuinely celebratory. The handclaps, soaring harmonies and joyful energy of the finale make it feel like a room full of people gathering together to celebrate life itself. It is impossible not to smile as the song reaches its conclusion.

With his latest single, “Happiness Looks Good on You,” Collins has created a cheerful song, reminding us that optimism is not naïve, and joy is not superficial.

And with New Ways of Getting Old showcasing even more of his thoughtful songwriting, there has never been a better time to discover an artist who understands that great songs don’t need to shout. They simple need to connect with the listener.

Follow George Collins on his Website HERE

07.16.26

by Jane Lambert

VIDEO VOYAGEUR: 3 Q’S WITH KEN LOVERN

When Ken Lovern set out to create Blind Boone the Musical, he wasn’t simply writing songs. He was uncovering an overlooked chapter of American history. Through an ambitious blend of jazz, theatrical storytelling and historical research, the Kansas City composer and jazz organist is bringing the remarkable life of Missouri pianist John William “Blind” Boone to a whole new generation.

The project’s latest single, “Quindaro,” shifts the focus from Boone himself to the courageous journey of his mother, Rachel, bringing together the story of the Underground Railroad, the historic free state town of Quindaro, and the events that ultimately shaped one of America’s most extraordinary musicians. Accompanied by a striking visual narrative that combines original comic book artwork, archival imagery and footage from the recording sessions, the release demonstrates the scale and vision behind Blind Boone the Musical.

We caught up with Ken to discuss the inspiration behind “Quindaro,” the symbolism woven into its music, the creative process behind the video and why preserving stories like Blind Boone’s has never been more important than now.

Tell us the story of this track. Why did you choose to visualize it specifically in this way?

Quindaro is part of the story of Rachel Boone as told in the musical historical fantasy, “Blind Boone the Musical.”

The song’s setting is just before sunset in late Summer 1863, near Miami, Missouri in north central Missouri. A group of escaped and freed former enslaved persons, called “contrabands” by the Union Army, are heading west to Kansas in search of freedom and a better life. Their immediate goal is to reach the river port town of Quindaro on the Kansas side of the Missouri river and a known stop on the Underground Railroad. They sing to tell their story and their reasons for heading to the Free State of Kansas.

At dawn, the freedom seekers continue walking west to Quindaro. Rachel twisted her ankle the previous day, and it has swollen through the night. She is unable to walk. She will remain in central Missouri and give birth to John William Boone, who will become the prodigy and performing legend “Blind Boone.”

The cowbell beat that begins Quindaro is a standard “bell pattern” that forms the basis for much of the music of sub-Saharan Africa. The migration of this cross-rhythmic figure into the Americas introduced new rhythms to American music that did not exist in Europe. Some musicologist trace the “swing” of American blues and jazz to this pattern.

In the song Quindaro, the bell pattern remains consistent while the underlying pulse of the shaker and the bass drum alternate from a 6/8 beat to a 4/4 beat. Shifting the underlying pulse from 6/8 to 4/4 symbolizes the forced migration of the Africans to the Americas.

What was the inspiration behind this new video (visuals , storyline, etc.)?

The video features art from the companion comic book, video from the recording sessions, photos, and historical maps and drawings. My goal was to tell the story of the freedom seekers along with the experience of the musicians. The viewer can see through the maps and drawings the perilous journey from the Missouri side of the river at Parkville to the Kansas side of the river at Quindaro.

What was the process of making the video?

To create the video, I drew on images from several sources. To present the story of Blind Boone the Musical in a clear and linear manner, I collaborated with Gutter Studios to develop a comic book adaptation.

While recording Quindaro, I filmed videos of the musicians performing. I interspersed those videos with the comic book images and vintage maps and drawings to visually tell the story.

The video represents the dramatic story of freedom seekers from one hundred and sixty-three years ago and the joy of musicians performing today.

Connect with Ken Lovern and Blind Boone the Musical HERE

06.03.26

by Jane Lambert

Ammar Farooki’s “Twelve” – An Album for Those Still Searching

Some albums are collections of songs. Others feel more like conversations. Ammar Farooki’s Twelve falls firmly into the latter camp, and it’s an album less interested in telling listeners what to think and more concerned with asking the sort of questions that tend to continue long after the music has been heard.

Written and recorded between Brooklyn and beyond, Twelve finds Farooki wrestling with themes of identity, loss, love, spirituality as well as personal transformation. That might sound heavy – and, at times, it is – but this is not an album that disappears into its own philosophy. Instead, it uses those bigger ideas as fuel for songs that remain remarkably human and relatable. Whether reflecting on the uncertainty of leaving behind a stable corporate career to pursue music or exploring the ways people search for meaning in an increasingly chaotic world, Farooki approaches every song with honesty rather than certainty.

Musically, the album occupies a fascinating space between indie rock energy and singer songwriter intimacy. There are moments that soar, moments that simmer, and moments that seem content to simply sit with difficult emotions. Tracks such as “Wanderer” embody the album’s central theme of growth through self-discovery, using driving guitars, keys and an uplifting sense of momentum to capture the experience of shedding old identities and stepping into the unknown. Throughout the record, the arrangements serve the songs rather than the other way around, which is a surprisingly rare quality these days.

Farooki says about The Wanderer “The song is really about me growing as an individual, as an artist, and leaving everything I knew to be comfortable and familiar behind to pursue the dream of being an independent musician in NYC. This song as well as all the other tracks were composed, recorded and produced by myself, Diane Desobeau and Sarmad Ghafoor.“

What makes Twelve particularly compelling is that it never feels confined by geography or cultural labels. Farooki’s story may stretch from Lahore to New York City, but the questions he asks belong to everyone. Themes of belonging, purpose, heartbreak, and reinvention are presented not through the lens of nationality, but through shared human experience.

There is also a poignant emotional thread running through the album. Twelve is dedicated to the memory of Farhad Humayun, the legendary Pakistani musician, composer, and producer who inspired Farooki to pursue music more seriously and whose passing in 2021 left a lasting impact. That sense of loss and artistic purpose quietly informs much of the record, giving it an emotional depth.

Perhaps most impressive is the fact that Twelve was entirely self-funded and self-produced. In an era when artists are often encouraged to chase trends, Farooki has done the opposite, creating a body of work that feels uncompromisingly his own. The successful Kickstarter campaign behind the album, recognized as a “Project We Love”, suggests that listeners are responding to that authenticity.

What Twelve ultimately offers is something increasingly valuable – space to reflect. It invites listeners to sit with uncertainty, embrace complexity, and perhaps discover something about themselves along the way. Music that challenges, comforts and connects in equal measure is a rare thing. Ammar Farooki has managed to make an album full of it.

About Ammar Farooki

Ammar Farooki is a Brooklyn based singer-songwriter originally from Lahore, Pakistan. His music brings together the musical traditions of indie rock, folk, and introspective songwriting. After gaining recognition in Pakistan’s independent music scene, Farooki released his debut EP Songs From the Cave in 2019, earning coverage from Rolling Stone India, Forbes, as well as other international publications.

Later that year, he relocated to New York City on an artist visa and has since become a regular presence on the city’s live music circuit, performing at venues including The Bitter End, Rockwood Music Hall, Pianos, and the American Folk Art Museum.

While his journey spans continents, Farooki’s music is rooted in universal human experiences, creating songs that transcend borders and cultural labels. His recent album Twelve, is his most ambitious work to date. It’s an entirely self produced collection exploring philosophy, spirituality and the search for meaning in an increasingly complex world.

Keep up with all things Ammar Farooki on his Website

05.08.26

by Jane Lambert

Where Folk Meets Jazz and Memory in Bruce Rosenblum’s New Album “Never Too Late”

Some albums announce themselves loudly, demanding attention from the opening seconds with oversized hooks or layers of production designed to overwhelm the listener. Bruce Rosenblum’s new album Never Too Late takes a very different path.

This latest release draws the listener in through atmosphere, detail and a quietly confident sense of his craft. It is less like a performance looking for an applause and more of an invitation into a carefully shaped musical world.

The album sits within the broad singer songwriter tradition, but Rosenblum doesn’t treat genre as a fixed destination. Folk is the framework here certainly, yet these songs continually allow for other influences to surface naturally. Jazz phrasing winds through the melodies, classical textures deepen the emotions and country folk touches add warmth and movement. Rather than sounding stylistically scattered, the album feels unified by curiosity and by Rosenblum’s willingness to follow wherever each song naturally takes us.

“My Way Home” opens the record with an easy charm that immediately establishes the album’s tone. Written during the isolation of the COVID lockdown, the song explores the paralysis that can come from overthinking life and avoiding difficult choices. Rosenblum delivers it with wit and lightness, and allows the humor in the lyrics to soften the edges of the message. Musically, the New Orleans inflected groove gives the song a relaxed momentum, while clarinet lines drift through the arrangement with a playful energy that keeps everything in motion.

Elsewhere, “Undertow” reveals a more introspective side of the album. Inspired by long walks on nearly empty Cape Cod beaches during the pandemic, the song turns the ocean’s unseen currents into a metaphor for the emotional forces that quietly shape our lives. The arrangement mirrors that feeling beautifully, unfolding with patience and space. Lori Laitman’s flute performance adds an especially haunting quality, floating above the track in a way that feels almost cinematic.

“Tumbling Down” shifts gears again, leaning into a more direct folk-rock energy rooted in social commentary. Echoes of the protest songwriting tradition are certainly present, but the song avoids sounding trapped in nostalgia. Organ and piano textures bring freshness and urgency, helping the track feel connected to the present moment rather than simply reflecting on the past. It’s one of several moments on the album where Rosenblum successfully bridges classic influences with contemporary concerns.

And then there are the quieter pieces, particularly “In Our Garden,” which may be among the album’s most affecting songs. Built around intricate fingerpicked guitar and supported by Rosenblum’s own string trio arrangement, the track reflects on long term love with warmth and maturity. Rather than relying on dramatic declarations, it finds emotional power in small details and genuine feeling.

One of the album’s greatest achievements is the way it balances sophistication with accessibility. Rosenblum’s background in classical music and his wide ranging musical interests are evident throughout, but the songs are not overly produced. Everything is very much rooted in melody, mood and storytelling. Even when arrangements become more layered, the focus stays firmly on emotional connection.

For all its stylistic range, Never Too Late remains remarkably cohesive because every song carries the same thoughtful voice behind it. This is an album shaped by experience, yes, but also by renewed creative energy.

Rosenblum may have returned to songwriting later than some artists, but there is nothing hesitant about the music here. If anything, Never Too Late sounds like the work of someone fully settled into his artistic identity and is making music not to chase trends or expectations, but because the songs still have something meaningful to say.

Connect with Bruce Rosenblum on his Website

Stream music on Spotify and Apple Music

04.28.26

by Jane Lambert

Holding the Moment in A Is For Atom’s “Out of the Blue”

There’s a tendency in modern indie music to either overcomplicate or oversimplify – to dress songs up in layers of production until the meaning disappears, or strip them back so far that there’s nothing left to hold onto. The real trick, of course, is finding the balance. Out of the Blue, the latest album from A Is for Atom manages this really well.

This is not an album built on big statements. There are no obvious centrepieces demanding attention, no moments engineered to go viral or dominate playlists. Instead, Mike Cykoski has created a slow-burning collection of songs that reveal themselves over time. It’s a confident move, and one that gives the record a kind of quiet durability.

The title track, Out of the Blue captures a shift in perspective: that moment when something long familiar suddenly feels different. But it avoids cliché in favour of something more observational. There’s no rush to resolve the feeling, just an acceptance that change has already taken place.

As the album develops, it circles similar themes from different angles. “Closer” explores connection as something active, almost deliberate, rather than something that simply exists. It’s a subtle but important distinction, especially in a world where distance, emotional or otherwise, can so often feels like the default. “Love Birds” takes a softer approach, more tentative, focusing on the fragility of relationships and the space they require to survive.

Then there’s “Babylon,” which shifts the lens outward. Where much of the album feels personal, this track engages with a wider sense of instability: social, cultural and even existential. It’s one of the more expansive moments on the record and, if anything, it reinforces the idea that personal experience is always shaped by the world around it.

“Upriver” adds another layer, bringing in mythic imagery to explore ideas of love and return. It could easily have felt out of place, but instead it fits neatly into the album’s broader narrative. The references may be larger-than-life, but the emotions remain grounded: longing, responsibility and the pull of something familiar waiting at the end of the journey.

Musically, this record has indie rock as the backbone, but it’s softened by electronic textures, ambient details and a strong sense of pacing. Arrangements feel intentional but never overworked. There’s a noticeable absence of excess – no unnecessary flourishes.

This sense is also what defines the album. It trusts the listener to stay engaged, and create music that is more than lasting. These are definitely tracks built for longevity.

In the end, Out of the Blue doesn’t try to answer the questions it raises. It doesn’t tidy up the emotions it explores or force them into neat conclusions. Instead, it reflects the way things actually are as fluid, uncertain, evolving and often unresolved. It’s a record that understands you don’t always need to say more to mean more. Sometimes, saying just enough is exactly what gives a song its power.

About A Is For Atom

A Is for Atom is the Brooklyn based project of songwriter and producer Mike Cykoski, blending indie rock with subtle electronic textures and deeply personal, narrative driven songwriting.

With a background that includes studies at New York University and The Juilliard School, along with experience at Harvest Works and Dubspot, Cykoski brings together technical precision and creative instinct in equal measure.

Known for tracks like “Love Birds” and recent releases including “Enola,” “Closer,” and “Out of the Blue,” A Is For Atom has built a reputation for music that favours emotional clarity and atmosphere.

Find out more about A is For Atom on the Website