35 years later...
The upper east side... of Los Angeles...
Headphones draped over a curly mop, an empty coffee cup cries out for more. Lee Pardini lies in wait. Perched, primed, poised and posted at the padded pedestal of a 1913 Steinway grand A-2. “Ey... Let’s roll one fellas... uh 1, uh 2, uh do what-ya-need-ta-do....”

From the drop, “Homebodies” feels like a long-awaited return to the earth you never knew you left. You find yourself exported from stresses and strains of the daily grind, transported to a time when music told a story without even speaking a word...

Track one, “whatsoever”, eases you into a trance; a dance between a man and his piano. It’s the perfect introduction to Pardini’s highly anticipated debut solo venture. The arrangement is in bloom, a seed that blossoms into a beautiful flower, right before your ears. It’s jazz... But this ain’t your grandpa’s jazz record... Unless your grandpa’s cool as shit. Jazz is more than a genre, it’s a headspace, a headspace Pardini and his fellow featured A-listers have unabashedly moved into. You can cut the power and shut off the heat, but these guys can and will not leave.
Squatters rights!

Born and raised in San Jose California but currently residing in Los Angeles, Pardini took a bit of a detour before his southern migration. Good jazz is like a good bagel, IT’S ALL ABOUT THE WATER BABY and there’s only one place to get it, New Y City. Five solar orbits and a few thousand slices of ‘za later, Pardini followed in Fievel’s footsteps... and headed west. With a degree in Jazz Piano from the Manhattan School of Music under his belt, it was time to get out the classroom and into the green room.

Having spent the last 10 years rubbing elbows with some of the world's most prestigious players, “Homebodies” is the last page of Lee Pardini’s coming of age story. A prolific session sorcerer (Roger Waters, Aimee Mann, Cass McCombs, Jonathan Wilson, Theo Katzman and countless others) and member of the Rock band Dawes for the last 5 years, Pardini has proven to be one of LA’s most smoking aces. The Fred Astaire of the ivory highway, a chordal chameleon, Pardini elevates, elaborates and understates everything he touches and “Homebodies” is no exception. With a band made up of SoCal’s sexiest sharpshooters (Griffin Goldsmith - Drums, Paul Bryan - Bass, Jeff Parker - Guitar, Josh Johnson - Sax, Rich Hinman - Pedal steel, Davey Chegwidden - Percussion) “Homebodies” is a master class in improvisation; a sonic symposium on band dynamics. These guys have done the reading and taken notes. POP QUIZ... “We got this.”

Soulful, skillful and borderline sinful, “Homebodies” tells the musical story we’ve all been waiting to hear. Mr. Pardini manages to prove that one of jazz’s greatest sub-genres may have once been lost, but now, is ever so found. That Soul jazz, that funk jazz, that groove jazz, that kinda jazz you sweat to, that kinda jazz you bop your head to.

Track two, “Main Title”, the first single to be released on GroundUp Music, is an homage to all the great film scores that never were. It’s an auditory expedition through a cityscape inside your mind. You’re lured in by the drums, entranced by the Rhodes and by the time the guitar and bass show up you’re already cruising down the motorway. The internal detectives dialogue in your head just cracked the biggest case since Zodiac and as you catch a glimpse in your rear view, you realize...
You’re being followed.

Another standout swinger is the closing track, “Rancho”, a spectacle of soulful summersaults, the band has never sounded more relaxed. If you like strolling grooves, hypnotizing guitar solos and out of body piano performances, then listen no further. A flawless finale to paint a picture of it all. The space between “there” and “here”, an ode to the road and a siphon to the code. The only thing left to do after this song, is run it back again.

“Homebodies” is a collection of work from a man who has put in the work. The universal language of instrumental music has a power like none other, this album is reference to a conference between mind, body and soul. A Sunday drive to nowheresville, please enjoy.