Arturo Sandoval

If you consider the trumpet a side dish, the stuffing to some needlessly bespectacled frontman's turkey, you've been procuring too many of your meals via Pitchfork. That shiny, spitty contraption is a star, and there was an era that made it such, when horn players required only one name: Louis, Miles, Dizzy. These days you're lucky to see one tucked in the corner by the percussionist, trotted out as an accessory unless, that is, you're at the Kessler on Thursday. That's when Arturo Sandoval, the Cuban-born, Dizzy-influenced jazz trumpeter, brings his kinetic, cross-cultural road show to town. He'll sing, pound the piano keys and even tell some decent jokes, but the trumpet will star in ways that will make you wish Beirut didn't even bother. That he'll do it at the Kessler, a finely tuned venue much smaller than Sandoval might have played, makes the show even more enticing. Yells At Eels open.


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