| Jazz, R&B, Soul |
Summary: April May Webb and Randall Haywood’s Dishes Ain’t Clean blends jazz, soul, R&B and pop into an authentic, vibrant album about love, imperfection and self acceptance, highlighted by Webb’s remarkable voice and Haywood’s inventive musicianship.
April May Webb and Randall Haywood Turn Everyday Imperfection Into Jazz on Dishes Ain’t Clean
Like a ray of late summer sunlight, the voice of April May Webb has an immediate warmth that seems to reach the listener before the music has even had time to fully unfold. Webb, who won the 2024 Sarah Vaughan International Jazz Vocal Competition, possesses the rare combination of precision, clarity and emotional intelligence that allows her to move through a song without ever making the performance feel overly calculated. Alongside trumpeter, composer and bandleader Randall Haywood, she has created Dishes Ain’t Clean, an album that may initially suggest pop, soul or R&B through its colors and rhythms, but that ultimately reveals itself as a deeply rooted jazz record whose references simply extend far beyond the genre’s most familiar vocabulary.
That distinction is important because Webb and Haywood are not attempting to disguise jazz beneath contemporary production. They are approaching the music from the opposite direction, using their knowledge of jazz as a foundation from which they can explore soul, R&B, gospel, pop, country, world music and hip hop without losing the sense of musical conversation that defines the tradition. Both musicians are composers as well as performers, and their writing gives the album a coherence that might otherwise be difficult to achieve across such a wide range of influences. The result feels less like a collection of stylistic experiments than a portrait of two musicians who have decided that there is no reason to limit the vocabulary available to them.
Webb’s voice is naturally at the center of that portrait, and the 2024 Sarah Vaughan competition victory becomes easy to understand once her singing is heard in context. On “Cottonwood Tree,” for example, she demonstrates an unusually controlled instrument, but technical precision is only part of what makes the performance compelling. Her phrasing has a sense of intimacy that allows the melody to breathe, while the emotional weight of the song comes through without unnecessary exaggeration. The performance suggests an artist who understands that a great vocalist does not need to dominate a song in order to make it unforgettable.
“Cottonwood Tree” is also an important piece of the personal story behind Dishes Ain’t Clean. Webb wrote the song while sitting beneath the cottonwood tree she knew from her childhood in Newton, Kansas, transforming a specific memory into something that can be understood far beyond its original setting. That ability to take an intensely personal experience and turn it into a shared emotional space is one of the qualities that gives the album much of its strength. Throughout these thirteen original songs, Webb and Haywood repeatedly return to memories, relationships, ambition, dissatisfaction, love and the complicated process of figuring out who we are while life continues to change around us.
The album’s title provides the most revealing example of that approach. The idea began with something almost comically ordinary: dirty dishes sitting in the couple’s kitchen. Webb would walk into the room, see the dishes and think about the fact that they still needed to be washed. Eventually, however, the image began to suggest something much larger. In an age when people routinely edit photographs, remove imperfections and present carefully selected versions of their lives online, the dirty dishes became a metaphor for everything that remains outside the frame.
The connection is particularly effective because it avoids the usual language surrounding social media and authenticity. Instead of simply criticizing the culture of perfect images, Webb considers what happens when we hide the unfinished parts of ourselves from other people. A photograph can be cropped to remove whatever does not fit the desired image, just as a person can present only the most attractive version of a life while leaving uncertainty, failure, disorder and vulnerability somewhere beyond the visible frame. Webb’s realization is that those supposedly undesirable details may actually be the things that allow people to connect with one another when they are finally revealed.
Authenticity therefore becomes the emotional center of the album, but it never arrives as a lecture. The songs remain playful and often seem to enjoy the absurdity of everyday life, which is one of the reasons the record feels so human. Listening to them reminded me of contemporary art exhibitions I encountered in the 1990s, where an apparently ordinary pile of dirty dishes might be placed in the center of a gallery and illuminated so dramatically that the objects suddenly acquired the grandeur of the remains of a castle after an attack by a particularly enthusiastic group of pirates armed to the teeth. The difference here is that Webb and Haywood are not asking the listener to contemplate disorder as an artistic object. They are taking something ordinary and transforming it through music, rhythm, harmony and storytelling until it becomes part of a much larger conversation about creativity and human experience.
There is, in fact, very little disorder in the way the album itself is constructed. The arrangements are precise, the production is colorful and the rhythmic architecture is carefully controlled, even when the music appears to be moving freely between genres. That contrast is one of the record’s most appealing characteristics. The dirty dishes may represent the unfinished and imperfect aspects of life, but the music demonstrates what can happen when those raw materials are shaped by experienced artists who understand exactly what they want to communicate.
Haywood’s contribution is crucial to that balance. His trumpet provides a distinctly jazz centered voice throughout the record, but his role extends well beyond that of instrumentalist. As a composer, arranger, bandleader and musical director, he has the experience necessary to move between intimate ensemble playing and more expansive studio production. His work with the T.S. Monk Band, his education at the Juilliard School and his recognition as a Male Rising Star by Hot House Jazz Magazine and Jazzmobile all form part of a career that has given him a strong grounding in the tradition while leaving him plenty of room to explore its contemporary possibilities.
The production of Dishes Ain’t Clean reflects that combination of experience and curiosity. The musicians began by recording together as a live ensemble, establishing the essential chemistry between the players before continuing to develop the material in the studio. Additional textures and instrumental colors were subsequently incorporated, allowing the album to move naturally between acoustic jazz and a broader contemporary sound. Piano, electric and nylon string guitars, strings, percussion and electronic elements all contribute to the palette, but the production never overwhelms the musicians. Instead, it creates enough space for the arrangements to breathe while allowing each song to establish its own personality.
That personality changes considerably from one track to another, which is part of the fun of the album. “I’m Never Satisfied” introduces the listener to a bright and energetic world of pop and jazz influences, with rhythmic ideas that reach toward African and Latin traditions. Beneath its inviting surface is a familiar human problem, namely the tendency to focus on what we do not have even when there is plenty in our lives that deserves appreciation. Haywood has described the album as a journey from inner agitation and personal struggles toward greater self-awareness, and this song establishes that idea without sacrificing its sense of movement or humor.
Other songs explore different parts of the musical landscape. “I’d Spend It With You” moves toward country and Americana, while “The Way Life Used to Be” looks backward at experiences that once seemed ordinary but became precious when circumstances changed. “Life’s Continuum” continues that reflection, considering the way memory reshapes our understanding of the past and reminding us that personal history is never as fixed as we imagine it to be. These songs contribute to a larger narrative in which the musicians are not simply describing events but examining what those events teach us about ourselves.
The title track takes the album’s central metaphor and gives it its most direct musical expression. “Dishes Ain’t Clean” moves into a richer R&B and neo soul environment, incorporating hip hop elements while retaining Haywood’s jazz sensibility. The stylistic combination works because it is connected to the subject matter. The music sounds contemporary without chasing fashion, and the lyric uses an everyday image to address the much more complicated issue of self-presentation. When Webb sings about the dirty dishes, the humor is still there, but so is a sense of vulnerability that becomes increasingly apparent as the song unfolds.
Her interpretation gives the title track an unexpectedly tender quality. Rather than treating imperfection as something shameful, Webb seems to recognize the humor and nostalgia contained within the memory. The performance becomes less about the dishes themselves than about the realization that nobody lives in the perfectly organized world that photographs and social media feeds often suggest. There is something comforting about hearing that idea expressed without bitterness, particularly because the musicians seem to understand that imperfection is not simply an obstacle to overcome but also a source of creativity.
That perspective becomes even more interesting when considering the history of Webb and Haywood as musical partners. Dishes Ain’t Clean arrives after approximately a decade of work by two musicians who have developed substantial reputations on the national jazz scene while also building a personal relationship. Their story began at a jam session at Moore’s Lounge in Jersey City, where music created the first connection before conversation eventually followed. What began as a musical encounter developed into a professional partnership and ultimately a marriage, making songs such as “He Fell in Love” particularly personal without requiring them to become sentimental.
Webb’s own professional journey has been equally significant. She won the thirteenth edition of the Sarah Vaughan International Jazz Vocal Competition at NJPAC in 2024 after entering the competition repeatedly over the years while continuing to develop her own repertoire. That persistence matters when listening to her now because there is a sense that the voice heard on this album is not the result of a sudden breakthrough but of years spent refining an artistic identity. Her victory was an important recognition of that work, but Dishes Ain’t Clean suggests that the competition was only one chapter in a much longer story.
Haywood’s career provides a complementary perspective. His work as musical director of the T.S. Monk Band has placed him within a distinguished jazz lineage, while his own writing and performance continue to move toward a broader contemporary vocabulary. His recognition by Hot House Jazz Magazine and Jazzmobile as a Male Rising Star, along with the recognition received by Sounds of A&R at the NYC Readers Jazz Awards, reinforces the impression of an artist who has spent years developing a distinctive musical voice rather than simply following current trends.
That sense of independence is particularly evident in “The Sunken Place,” which takes the album into darker territory through an arrangement influenced by the psychological imagery associated with Jordan Peele’s Get Out. The song explores the experience of feeling trapped within an internal world that other people cannot see, and Haywood responds with an atmospheric arrangement that introduces strings and more avant garde textures. It is one of the album’s strongest demonstrations of how the musicians can move into unfamiliar territory without losing the emotional center of the record.
“Learning the Hard Way” offers another significant departure, incorporating electronic instrumentation, dance pop rhythms, Middle Eastern percussion and global pop influences. Rather than treating these elements as decorative additions, Webb and Haywood use them to reshape the song’s emotional environment. The message concerns failure, growth and the difficult process of accepting that mistakes can become part of the education required to move forward. It is an idea that might sound familiar on paper, but the arrangement keeps it from becoming predictable.
This is ultimately what makes Dishes Ain’t Clean such an enjoyable discovery. The album is full of ideas, but the ideas are never allowed to overwhelm the music. Webb and Haywood understand that audiences do not necessarily need to be told what to think about a song. They can be invited into the story, allowed to recognize themselves in the characters and situations, and given enough musical space to reach their own conclusions.
The thirteen songs also suggest that this material could become even more interesting on stage. The humor contained in the lyrics, the personal stories behind several compositions and the natural interaction between Webb’s voice and Haywood’s trumpet all have the potential to develop further in front of an audience. There is a conversational quality to the album that seems particularly suited to live performance, where the musicians can respond to one another and allow arrangements to breathe differently from night to night.
For listeners who normally approach jazz through more traditional recordings, the album offers an accessible point of entry without compromising the musicianship. For listeners already comfortable with contemporary jazz, it provides the pleasure of hearing two accomplished musicians refuse to confine themselves to a single vocabulary. Younger audiences may respond to the album’s reflections on social media, self-image and the pressure to appear perfect, while older listeners may recognize something familiar in the way Webb and Haywood turn everyday experiences into material for musical storytelling.
I would recommend listening to the album in its entirety rather than treating it as a collection of individual singles, because the progression from one song to another reveals more about the musicians’ intentions than any single track can provide. “Cottonwood Tree” is an excellent place to appreciate Webb’s vocal abilities, while “Dishes Ain’t Clean” reveals the central concept of the project, and the more adventurous arrangements show just how far Haywood and Webb are willing to travel once the album’s foundation has been established.
There is also something reassuring about discovering artists who are willing to leave a little room for imperfection. In a musical environment increasingly shaped by polished production and carefully managed public images, Webb and Haywood have chosen to make an album that acknowledges the unfinished parts of life rather than hiding them. The irony is that the result is exceptionally well crafted, which suggests that authenticity and precision do not have to be opposites.
After spending time with Dishes Ain’t Clean, the metaphor of the title begins to feel much larger than the original kitchen scene that inspired it. The dirty dishes represent the things we postpone, the flaws we conceal, the moments that do not fit neatly into the story we would prefer to tell about ourselves. Webb and Haywood take those imperfections and turn them into songs that can be funny, romantic, reflective, rhythmic and occasionally adventurous, while remaining grounded in the musical language of jazz.
That is why the album deserves attention beyond the immediate appeal of April May Webb’s extraordinary voice. There is genuine substance beneath the warmth and accessibility of these recordings, and there is enough musical imagination to reward repeated listening. The record can speak to listeners who have spent decades with jazz as well as to people encountering this particular musical vocabulary for the first time, because its central subject is not really jazz at all. It is the complicated, sometimes ridiculous and often beautiful experience of being human.
And that may be the most convincing reason to spend time with Dishes Ain’t Clean. Webb and Haywood have created a record in which the music is sophisticated without becoming distant, contemporary without becoming disposable, and personal without becoming self-absorbed. Their dirty dishes have become a remarkably effective metaphor for the unfinished business of life, and somewhere between the laughter, the memories, the grooves and Webb’s extraordinary vocal performances, the listener may discover that the parts of life we once considered imperfections are often the very things that make the story worth hearing.
Thierry De Clemensat
Member at Jazz Journalists Association
USA correspondent for Paris-Move and ABS magazine
Editor in chief – Bayou Blue Radio, Bayou Blue News
PARIS-MOVE, August 19th, 2026
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Musicians:
April May Webb: vocals
Randall Haywood: trumpet, flughorn, keyboards, vocals, percussions
Dr Ryan Tomsky: Piano, Rhodes (1, 11, 13)
Dr Nathan Webb: bass (1, 11, 13)
Charlie Sigler: Electric guitar (2, 4, 7, 11, 13)
Drew Cooper: nylon guitar (1, 10)
Gabe Valle: Violin, Viola, Cello (7, 8, 10, 11)
Track Listing :
I’m Never Satisfied
Everybody Ain’t Gonna Like You (Prelude)
Everybody Ain’t Gonna Like You
I’d Spend It With You
Cottonwood Tree (Prelude)
Cottonwood Tree
The Way Life Used to Be
Life’s Continuum
Dishes Ain’t Clean
He Fell in Love
The Sunken Place
Learning the Hard Way
You Are Everything