Everything about the Jacksonville Beach Summer Jazz Series seems like it was designed to shake off preconceptions faster than a dog shakes off the salt water when the music draws his owner out of the ocean and towards the boardwalk. And yeah, the dog can come in. This is "smooth jazz" Florida style. Come in, hang out, dance around or plop down on the ground and let the music do what it inevitably does in a live setting - hook you before you know what happened. This beach side amphitheater is the perfect place for that alchemy to happen and Nelson Rangell is the perfect catalyst. He pulls you in and holds you inside every note he plays. That and he's loud in a very good way. Not distorted or abrasive, but strong, solid, and expressively loud. That's how you lure them out of the ocean, out of the bars and off the sidewalk, with compelling music that has zero wimp factor - even when you whistle.

Rangell didn't go for the big introduction. The onstage announcer thanked the sponsors, gave away a few prizes and did his thing while the band was in the final stages of setting up. Rangell strolled on stage dressed to take the heat and humidity head-on in baggy cotton shorts and an untucked shirt. He worked out a few last minute things with the sound guys then, out of the blue, guitarist Rohn Lawrence tore into the opening riff of "I Want You Back," and he ambled toward the center of the stage and cut loose. Yeah, it's a cover, but he "Rangellized" the middle of it by unleashing a staggeringly fast and powerful blast of notes, all played so clean and clear it seemed effortless. His inventiveness really came through on "Can't Hide Love," a much covered song that he morphed into something that was just recognizable enough for the fans to grab onto but such a showcase for his sax work that that became the highlight. He was hitting some high notes and bending the tone to the point where it sounded like an Ernie Isley guitar solo. "Grace" followed, with his beautiful spoken introduction explaining the title and how we need to treat each other from a point of grace, beginning a mesmerizing performance where his playing was so expressive that the instrument was indeed the voice and the words were on the tip of everyone's imagination as he segued into a verse from "Over The Rainbow" to wrap up the song. He picked up the flute for Earl Klugh's "Vonetta," which showcased keyboardist Jay Rowe, a stunning musician featured on Ken Navarro's groundbreaking new release, who hasn't received anywhere near the accolades he deserves.

Usually the dancers in the crowd gravitate toward the stage at the start of a familiar cover song but the irresistibly catchy "Turning Night Into Day" was the one that really got people moving. He picked up the soprano for "Good Morning Love," working layers of complexity into a simple melodic framework and spiced up the evening with a salsa tinged version of "Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing."  "Sonora," the Hampton Hawes' jazz classic, has been a showcase and a show stopper during Rangell's performances. He whistles it, then picks up  the piccolo, then returns to whistling a cascade of notes in tonal perfection. It's quite amazing to see someone take on this complicated melody with an instrument, much less with just air and their mouth. There were sound issues when his higher notes generated squeals of feedback but it was such an impressive display of virtuosity on a rarely used instrument that the crowd remained in awe. The band was showcased throughout the set and "The Road Ahead" gave them a chance to take center stage and shine. Bassist Dave Livolsi avoided the trendy funk thump, going instead for nuance and a rousing display of technique, guitarist Rohn Lawrence tore into some serious rock chops and drummer Trevor Sommerville kept it tight and rhythmic while he showed his stuff. Rowe stood in a casual stance and brought out the firepower, working several keyboards at a time. The song built through these solos and returned to the original theme, leaving the crowd at the front literally screaming for more. The music had nudged the city's curfew as close as could be allowed so no encore could be played and the crowd dispersed, still caught in that feeling you get when you have just experienced a group of musicians who brought it all to the stage. To most of this crowd it wasn't "jazz," "smooth jazz," or anything they could quite nail with terminology. It was music that made them feel good, and that's what matters most.