Colin Hancock isn’t just a musician; he’s a time traveler with a cornet and a clipboard. On A Texas-Sized Band, his Austin-based Joymakers expand to a ten-piece powerhouse, digging deep into the “territory band” sounds of the 1920s and ’30s.

Hancock, hot on the heels of his collaboration with Catherine Russell last year (Colin Hancock’s Jazz Hounds featuring Catherine Russell – Cat & The Hounds) and completing his Doctorate of Law, Hancock has found the time to bring us this high-powered, joyous collection of tunes for the group’s second release

‘There’s revivalism, and then there’s reclamation. A Texas-Sized Band doesn’t merely recreate the sounds of 1920s Texas jazz and territory-band swing; it restores the music’s swagger, looseness, humor, sensuality, and communal spirit with startling clarity. The Joymakers approach this repertoire less like preservationists and more like musicians who understand that the best early jazz was dance music first: loud, joyful, flirtatious, and alive.

Where Down Where the Bluebonnets Grow introduced the ensemble’s command of vintage “hot jazz” language, this follow-up broadens the palette considerably. Expanded to a ten-piece unit, the band leans heavily into arrangement dynamics, ensemble interplay, and vocal character. Bandleader Hancock and saxophonist/vocalist Lauryn Gould deserve enormous credit for crafting charts that sound historically informed without becoming museum pieces.

The opener, “Deep Elm (You Tell ’Em I’m Blue),” immediately establishes the album’s mission. The track bursts forward with rambunctious brass, snapping banjo rhythms, and clarinet lines that tumble over each other like dancers in a crowded hall. Hancock’s vocal arrives not as polished nostalgia, but as lived-in storytelling. The arrangement swings hard while still leaving room for sly rhythmic pivots and instrumental asides.

“Dreaming ’Bout My Man” shifts the mood effortlessly. Lauryn Gould’s vocal glides through the tune with warmth and sly charm, while the band wraps her in a gently swaying groove full of banjo chatter and muted brass commentary. The performance captures the intimate elegance of classic blues-jazz vocal records without sounding overly reverent.

“The Payoff (Stomp)” may be the album’s clearest statement of intent. It’s joyous, brassy, and relentlessly kinetic, filled with ensemble punches, playful tempo turns, and piano figures that sound like they’re racing the horns to the finish line. The Joymakers understand that “stomp” music was never tidy; it thrived on controlled chaos and exuberance.

Luke Allen shines throughout the album, particularly on “Somebody Stole My Gal,” where his vocal balances melancholy and mischief. The tune’s quick-moving horn charts and jangling rhythm section create an infectious momentum. Likewise, “Honey Child” channels the sensual ease of late-night dancehall blues with its mournful horns, pleading vocals, and tingly piano passages, while “He’s Tall and Dark and Handsome” crackles with vintage theatrical flair, driven by Gould’s expressive phrasing and the band’s rowdy clarinet-and-brass exchanges.

The album’s second half digs even deeper into territory-band tradition. “Clap Hands! Here Comes Charley!” practically explodes from the speakers, propelled by Hancock’s exuberant vocal and a rhythm section that never lets the energy sag. “Bye Bye Baby (Blues)” connects Texas blues lineage to early jazz sophistication, while “Lots O’ Mama (Stomp)” serves as a showcase packed with fearless horn tradeoffs and jumping rhythms.

“Daniel’s Blues” offers one of the album’s most relaxed performances — a mid-tempo blues that allows the ensemble to breathe while still maintaining the record’s buoyant spirit. By the time the band storms through “Stomp Off, Let’s Go!” and the delightfully wobbling “Elephant’s Wobble,” the listener realizes the group has accomplished something difficult: making century-old music feel immediate, physical, and contemporary without sanding away its rough edges.

The ensemble itself deserves mention. Hancock handles cornet, reeds, vocals, and arrangements with impressive versatility, while Gould emerges as the record’s emotional anchor. Luke Allen, David “Jelly” Jellema, Dylan Blackthorn, Shane Dickens, Westen Borghesi, Ryan Gould, Ryan Neubauer, and Freddie Mendoza collectively create a sound that is both disciplined and gleefully untamed.

A Texas-Sized Band succeeds because The Joymakers understand the deeper point of this music: community, movement, humor, improvisation, and joy. This isn’t a reenactment. It’s a living conversation with the past — loud enough to shake the dance floor once again.