There was a time in the mid-20th century when the sound of brass instruments emanated from Mumbai's soundscape a lot more than it does today. There were the jazz clubs in Churchgate that featured master trumpeters and saxophonists, for instance. Some of them also showed off their chops in post-Independence Hindi cinema (think of the distinctive opening bars in the song Baar baar dekho, picturised on Shammi Kapoor). But these days, the city's sonic environment is such that all sorts of new-fangled sounds have taken some of the sheen off those instruments. That's why Bombay Brass's recently released eponymous debut EP arrives as a breath of fresh air that, at times, transports the listener to a sepia-tinted era when electronic genres like techno and drum 'n' bass were still awaiting the invention of computer software.

The album begins with a playfully intended false start before the musicians get into their swing in the song Prime sinisters, which could easily fit into the soundtrack of a French noir film. Goodbye Ravi, the next track, is the sort of tune that even modern-jazz poster boys Snarky Puppy would give a thumbs-up to. Anytime now, on the other hand, has a wistful melody that you can listen to sitting by your window, watching the world go by with a cup of tea in your hands. But Quegdevelim sunset II is an up-tempo number that has nostalgia seeping from it like treacle from the pudding that your grandmother would make.