The very first song that singer/songwriter Angela Carole Brown ever wrote, THE SLOW CLUB, is about a nightclub in Paris. At the time she wrote it she'd never been to the city of lights. The story in the song is fiction. The club itself is fiction. And in the song she describes in great detail what the mood and look and walls and smell are like in this place. A few years after writing it and performing it around her hometown of Los Angeles, she was singing it in a club one night, and a French woman came up to her afterwards. This was the exchange:

- "I enjoyed your song very much. It makes me think back with fond memory of my days at the Slow Club."

- "Well, thank you, ma'am, but I'm afraid you're mistaken. You see, the song is fiction."

- "Oh, no. The Slow Club in Paris, France, oui?"

- "I ... really do think you're thinking of someplace else. There isn't a Slow Club. I don't mean to insist, it's just that I made it up. I just have this silly, romantic fixation for Paris."

- "And mademoiselle, I believe I would know. I am the one who has been to this place you sing about. On the Rue du Rivoli, right down the way from the Louvre. I would say that is some pretty powerful fixation."

Angela's jaw was dropped for the next several years, as she continued to sing this song around town, told this story, and relished in her, and her song's, spooky allure. Until she finally did make it to Paris for the first time, and went to this place conjured in her head. And there it was, with a Rue du Rivoli address, as promised. She walked in, unprepared for an even newer set of phenomena. For, every single detail she speaks of in her song was personified before her eyes, from the winding staircase that takes one down into it, to the smoky, blue ambiance that invited secret rendezvous on the stairs.

She sat there with a sloe gin, grinned from ear to ecstatic ear at the wonders of her life, and concluded that she must've been that Slow Club chanteuse in another lifetime, simply recalling pockets of memory from a long-dormant nether-plane. Whether an actual reincarnation, or merely a mischievous flight of fancy, was the explanation, the experience began Angela's journey as a musician and a writer, carrying with her at all times the mysterious wonders that art simply begets.

This canon of songs was written shortly following that phenomenon, in an era of Angela's life when she first began uncovering the mesmerizing world of jazz. She was a wide-eyed yearling: stumbling tripping, getting back, inviting this new horizon that was filled with delicious discoveries, and slowly but surely getting her sea legs as a composer.

These songs have a sort of dual personality that seem to be, at once, moody and irascible AND playful and lighthearted. They are the total reflection of the ecstasy of the new kid on the block. A euphoria fully backed and sponsored by the spooky allure of Angela's song, THE SLOW CLUB, which was the beginning of it all.