The Beveled Edges, I Guess We’re Not Alone Review

by Icrom Bigrad

Born from a cold New York afternoon and warmed by a shared creative flame, I Guess We’re Not Alone by The Beveled Edges is a crossroads of soul, samba, storytelling, and sound design. Vocalist and songwriter Shelly Bhushan and guitarist-arranger Anthony Lanni craft a sonic travelogue that flows with musical textures as varied as a city block in São Paulo or a jazz club in Paris. What began as an EP spiraled into an album-length portrait of the connection between people, styles, and sonic languages. For Latin jazz fans who also enjoy creative songwriting, this set of nine songs flows with its arrangement-as-emotion, where every instrumental color and dynamic shift maps to the emotional arc of the songs.

You hear it from the very first notes of “Amarillo.” The full vocal sound of Shelly’s voice commands attention as the chamber music moment where accordion and strings create a warm, romantic undercurrent. Shelly’s voice blooms above them, and thus begins our journey. Her opening glissando and tonal switch between registers are commanding: a singer in full command of her instrument, drawing the listener in with technique that serves narrative, not flash. The Latin jazz feel is subtle but deep as Anthony’s bass and chord choices shimmer with Iberian echoes. It’s an opener that doesn’t just ask for attention; it earns it.

The title track, “I Guess We’re Not Alone,” is where you will hear a fine example of Bhushan and Lanni’s collaborative chemistry. Built entirely on their interplay, Anthony’s 7-string guitar pulls double duty, laying down a steady Latin-influenced bass line while voicing chords that hover, bounce, and breathe around Shelly’s phrasing. Her vocals are nimble, theatrical, and story-forward; they curl and stretch around his rhythmic accents. This is not call-and-response; it’s a dialogue. As vibraphone and percussion join in, they don’t distract, they support the already-established groove, expanding the space without crowding the core. That’s the genius of this duo: they create a whole mood with just voice and guitar, then invite others to enrich that mood.

This sense of orchestration-as-emotional-mapping flows with “At The End of the Day.” Based loosely on a cha cha cha groove, the piece sways with a Latin jazz elegance. Anthony’s bass movement and chordal placements offer a relaxed feel, a kind of dusk-hour emotion. The harmonic shifts, minor to dominant, are a theme that is augmented. Shelly’s control of phrases and dynamics that breathe humanity into the form is enjoyable. Her timing is conversational but tight; her dynamics contour the lyric, emphasizing vulnerability here and defiance there. And when the horn section enters, it is warm, cinematic, and perfectly paced, letting the emotional subtext have its voice.

“Down The Stairs,” and suddenly, we’re in a different room of the same house. A 3/4 folk-inspired ballad that stretches past the five-minute mark, it tells a story not just in words but in arrangement. Beginning with lyrical themes of discovery and connection, the song builds organically. Piano, flute, and guitar layer, while Shelly’s vocals unfold with patience for the duration. As the arrangement grows, the dynamics swell, vocal backgrounds emerge, textures widen, and you feel the full weight of the song’s arc. It’s a journey, and the ensemble acts like a screenwriter here, supporting and amplifying each emotional beat in the story.

Throughout the album, the supporting cast sculpts the emotion with Shelly and Anthony. Arei Sekiguchi’s percussion strikes the perfect adaptive groove, bolero, samba, and straight soul, flow and does it feel forced. Haruna Fukazawa’s flute is expressive and agile, particularly in “Autumn Fell” and “Fade Into The Sky.” The horn section, Alejandro Berti Delgado on trumpet, Ric Becker on trombone, and Jeremy Powell on saxophone, adds drama without overstatement. And then there’s the textural cavalry: Brad Whitely’s organ swells, Tosh Sheridan’s piano nuances, Will Holshouser’s accordion currents, and Garry Ianco’s warm strings all add to the emotional brushstrokes of emotion with their unique splashes. Nothing oversteps. Everything supports.

From a technical lens, Anthony’s guitar work is rich with his ability to fuse baixaria (bassline technique), jazz chord extensions, and rhythmic comping on his 7-string in a manner that creates each song’s feel. Shelly’s vocal phrasing, meanwhile, shows how power and nuance can coexist, how space, tone color, and timbral choices shape meaning as much as lyric. Sekiguchi’s transitions, from brushwork into hand percussion, or from clave to pocket groove, is amodel how percussion can build tension without breaking the pocket. Note the many layering choices in the project, as instrumental color ebbs and flows with lyrical content, a reminder that instrumental color is narrative, not just texture.

Ultimately, I Guess We’re Not Alone  is what happens when strong songwriting meets global Latin jazz imagination. It’s an album that doesn’t chase genres but converses with them, where identity and arrangement form a symbiotic whole. When emotion, form, and groove align, the result isn’t just good music. It’s good company.