With all due respect to Wynton Marsalis and his Lincoln Center crew, jazz traditionalists areâ€¦well, theyâ€™re jackasses. Jazz was the definition of musical adventure until Upper West Side honkies started trading in their philharmonic memberships for that classic jazz sound. Donâ€™t get me wrong, I like to listen to Miles, Coltrane, Satchmo and the Duke as much as the next person. But Miles Davis wasnâ€™t even revisiting Kind of Blue five years after he made it, so why should anyone else be revisiting it 40 years later? Sex Mob isnâ€™t so traditional. Their meandering horns and smooth rhythms fall somewhere between the avant-garde and the smoky club, and the extracurricular touchesâ€”samples, megaphone lyrics, deep electro humsâ€”surely are more thoroughly enjoyed with a doobie than a highball. Indeed, like Medeski Martin & Wood, Sex Mob seems to be a hit among jam band enthusiasts, and while theyâ€™re jackasses too, at least theyâ€™re jackasses who can have some fun without the faux-witty repartee.