My parents bought this album at the World's Fair in Knoxville, TN in 1982. I was two, and was in need of a nap. So they found a tree near a small stage where a man was playing solo guitar, and selling his first record out of a cardboard box. Obviously, that man was Stanley Jordan, and he graciously autographed the album for my folks. Now, jazz guitar is a tricky thing for me, because there is a very fine line between cool, and sterile tedious musical masturbation. This album hovers near that line, but doesn't quite cross it. I find it to be a pleasant Sunday morning kind of album. But, maybe it was engrained in me from long ago sleeping under a tree.
