The first thing “Dancing in Paris” gets right is its pace. Michael Dulin’s piano comes in bright and easy, but the music has somewhere to be. It moves with the comfortable momentum of a good walk through a city: no hurry, no dawdling, plenty to look at along the way.
URL: https://michaeldulin.net/dancing-in-paris
That distinction matters in smooth jazz, where “relaxed” can sometimes mean “parked.” Dulin’s instrumental is reassuring without becoming inert, and romantic without laying on the perfume. You can settle into it, yet it keeps nudging your attention back toward the playing. The pleasure is in that small tug between comfort and motion. It sounds like music made for company, but it rewards a closer listen too. What lingers is the feeling of being gently carried along, rather than instructed to relax. That difference is modest on paper and substantial in practice.
Dulin composed and produced the track and plays piano and keyboards. Drummer James “PJ” Spraggins, soprano saxophonist Jeff Miguel, and Scotty McDavid on horns and strings complete the lineup. The Birmingham, Alabama, recording has a strong cast for a tune that asks for finesse rather than fireworks. Nobody needs to win an argument with the melody. The musicianship feels directed toward making the whole piece inviting, and Dulin’s clear, lively piano gives it a center without ever overstating the occasion.
It would be easy to talk about his résumé instead: Schumann with the Alabama Symphony Orchestra at twelve, studies with Adele Marcus at Juilliard, and a career that crosses classical and contemporary instrumental music. Those accomplishments explain the confidence behind the keyboard, but they aren’t what gives this piece its appeal. Plenty of players can show you how much they know. Here, Dulin’s judgment is in knowing how much a light touch can accomplish.
The title has a story. Dulin promised his wife Jan a trip to Paris and planned it down to a last night at Maxim’s, a jazz club, and a midnight waltz at the Eiffel Tower. Jan took one look at the itinerary and said she would rather go to Italy. Dulin agreed. The song he had written for Paris remained, which may be the best possible outcome for the rest of us.
There’s an obvious joke there, but it also sharpens the music’s character. A grand romantic plan met a gentle course correction. “Dancing in Paris” has that same sense of proportion. It offers warmth without trying to wring emotion out of every phrase. Its ease feels earned, the result of choices made by musicians who know when to let a pleasant idea breathe.
The song is easy on the ears; that phrase is often offered as faint praise, but it shouldn’t be. Easy listening takes care. The bright opening, forward pull, and refusal to wallow make this an instrumental you can return to without feeling cornered by its mood. The imagined evening may have involved a formal dinner and a famous tower. The recording is less fussy than either. Put it on after a long day, or before you go somewhere. It provides the reassuring sense that the night could turn out well, even if the plans change.
Chadwick Easton