diegodobini2
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diegodobini2
Clark Terry / Bob Brookmeyer Quintet – Gingerbread Men (1966)
https://youtu.be/D_kkj4p5A_o
Original Liner Notes:
There's a particular kind of anticipation in approaching a Terry-Brookmeyer performance on record or in a club. It's not only the surety of the musicianship to come, but more pungently, it's the wit, the crisp but relaxed beat, and the remarkable capacity of the co-leaders to continue to surprise each other. And consequently, to continue to surprise the listener. There are other qualities as well. The wistful lyricism of Clark Terry as vocalist in "I Want a Little
Girl, buttressed by the uncommonly supple rhythm section and the judiciously incisive piano of Hank Jones. And then, exploding from the yearning of the lyrics, there are the exultant Terry horn and a second vocal to match the newly strutting mood..
In "Morning Mist," the group achieves and sustains romanticism without sentimentality-from the crystalline solo by Hank Jones through the burry sensuality of Brookmeyer to the singing, contemplative ardor of Terry.
Clark Terry's "My Gal" re-emphasizes the exuberant, easy-rolling earthiness that also characterizes the Terry-Brookmeyer style. And Clark, drawing on vintage blues descriptions of the beloved, goes back to the roots of jazz singing with Brookmeyer providing a complementary, mocking instrumentalized voice. And listen too to the pointed commentary by Hank Jones.
"Milo's Other Samba" is a lithe, infectiously pulsating original by Gary McFarland which requires -and receives here-a lightness of attack combined with a bright sense of coloration.
"Haig & Haig" also calls for quicksilver fingering. The performance underlines Clark's enveloping sense of swing-its like being caught in an undertow of pleasure-and Bob Brookmeyer's firm command of improvisatory structure. And again, the rhythm section flows firmly and deeply.
Also part of the Terry-Brookmeyer skills is a mastery of building tension in a series of gradations that draw the listener into the marrow of the performance as he gets caught up in the spiraling intensity. A crackling case in point is "Naptown."
"Bye Bye Blackbird" has been reborn in recent years, due largely to the ministrations of Miles Davis. The Terry-Brookmeyer venture into this area of ornithology, however, had it own distinctive character-caressingly relaxed in ensemble, ruefully assertive in solos, and warmly intimate throughout. The departure is regretted, but substantial memories remain.
Duke Ellington's twilight distillation of loss, "Mood Indigo," is explored here with mesmeric grace and sensitivity. Faithful in spirit to the Ellington original, it takes on a different dimension of bitter-sweet feeling in the solos.
Jimmy Heath's "Gingerbread Boy" is a return to the nitty-gritty of bedrock heat and ebullient story-telling in which the Terry-Brookmeyer forces are also expert.
The durable and open-ended pleasures of listening to Clark Terry and Bob Brookmeyer come from a rare fusion of elements-lusty humor and subtle introspection, bold colors and delicate dynamics, easy swing and driving force. In sum, their music encompasses much of the human experience, and perhaps that's why their audiences are so diversified, but are also united in the knowledge that Terry and Brookmeyer somehow speak directly to each one of them.
-Nat Hentoff
17 hours ago | [YT] | 19
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diegodobini2
Joe Morello – It's About Time (1962)
https://youtu.be/_-q8uvhYWaU
Original Liner Notes:
About This Album by George Avakian
Every limit in jazz and popular music has been stretched and broken with the passing years. Technical skills have been sharpened; musicians have turned what was once dazzling virtuosity into the professional norm. The frontiers of harmony are extended constantly—yesterday's radical dissonances are today's conventions.
Times have changed, too. The simple time rhythms of the past are no longer enough for today's musicians. Improvised subdividing of the standard four-beat measure by the earlier jazzmen was a hint of what was to come. Many musicians today use 6/4, 3/4, 5/4, and far more complicated rhythms with the same freedom and skill with which variations on the customary 4/4 are tossed off. Drummers—notably, at first, Art Blakey and Max Roach—were the natural leaders of this development.
But it was a pianist—Dave Brubeck—who took over leadership in the extension of rhythmic horizons. As Dave's drummer, Joe Morello played a key role in winning a large public to what might have remained a private enjoyment for musicians only. In this, his first album under his own direction, Joe clearly displays a number of the rhythmic devices for which he, as a member of the Brubeck Quartet, has become known. But—make no mistake—Joe's first love is swinging and driving a band, whether large or small. So this album is, indeed, about time—but the preoccupation with time never gets in the way of making swinging music.
Joe's fantastic technique—probably the most overwhelming ever—is never there just for showing off. Throughout this album, he is heard as an integral member of the group; even his longest solo is actually an extension of what the band has been playing. That he is the member who provides most of the spark and drive for each performance is plainly evident at all times.
A basic small combo is heard throughout the album, with a brass ensemble added for four numbers (I Didn't Know What Time It Was, Every Time We Say Goodbye, Time on My Hands, and It's About Time). Manny Albam, arranger and conductor for these numbers, has integrated the combo so that there is frequently a concerto grosso quality to the sound of the ensemble.
Phil Woods, alto saxophonist throughout this set, is the arranger of five of the six remaining selections. Completing the album is a trio improvisation (Fatha Time) by pianist John Bunch, bassist Gene Cherico, and Joe.
Joe's approach, in assembling the musicians and asking Manny and Phil to write for them, was that the music must, at all times, swing. There was no attempt to use complex rhythms for their own sakes. The musicians, of course, had to be chosen with care. The principal soloists—Woods, Bunch, and vibraphonist Gary Burton—are strong "blowers." They are soloists of the type who dig in and go.
Woods, the best-known soloist, is one of the finest saxophonists of the post-bop era. He is a musician whose blazing musical temperament is perceptible even on ballads. Gary Burton is a teenage virtuoso who has bowled over seasoned musicians for the last two years and is just beginning to become known. He impressed Chet Atkins, RCA Victor's recording manager in Nashville (and one of the great guitarists of all time), so deeply that Chet promptly signed him. His first RCA Victor album will appear shortly. John Bunch, whose vigorous piano is sprinkled liberally throughout this album, is a youthful veteran of the Benny Goodman, Woody Herman, and Maynard Ferguson bands and has also played in the small combos of two of the country's most popular drummers, Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich.
As for more on Joe Morello—well, few people would be better qualified to tell you about him than Marian McPartland, with whose trio Joe sprang to fame—first with his fellow musicians, and then the jazz public.
About Joe Morello by Marian McPartland
Joe Morello is a drummer's drummer. As long as I have known him, which is close to ten years (when he first came to New York and sat in with me at the Hickory House in 1952), he has always been surrounded by drummers who came from all over to listen to him play, to talk to him, to work out, or to study his amazing technique at close range. Joe joined my trio in 1953, and it was always interesting to me to see how much time he devoted to the study of the drums, even to practicing every spare minute between sets. He was absolutely fanatical about this, and at times there seemed to be a kind of controlled fury in his playing—sort of a fierceness that belies the appearance of this quiet, soft-spoken guy. Only when he plays does he reveal some of the inner conflicts and frustrations that have shaped and directed him in his restless drive for perfection.
Joe was a child prodigy on the violin and can play piano quite well. He is a sentimental person who thinks deeply, who loves to daydream and to philosophize while listening to music—every kind of music. His musical tastes run all the way from Casals to Sinatra to Red River Valley. He is a complex person: on one hand, gentle, quiet, and imaginative; then, in the next instant, a complete extrovert, doing impressions of his friends and laughing like a schoolboy; then again, he becomes remote, moody, and shut off from everybody in his own self-contained little world.
In the past few years Joe has traveled all over the world with the Dave Brubeck Quartet. He is now a seasoned performer and shows the results and benefits of working with Dave. He has made a great reputation, and this is revealed in a different approach to his solos. His musical ideas run along new lines; he uses his fantastic technique to better effect than ever, and he seems to have broadened his scope, not only in his playing but also in various little intangible ways—in his increased confidence and in a certain gregariousness he never used to have. Yet, he is humble and at times almost disbelieving of his success. He has unquestionably made a great contribution to the Brubeck group, and I am sure that Dave would be among the first to agree that the success of tunes like Take Five, the Paul Desmond composition that put the Quartet on the nation's best-selling charts, is in some measure due to Joe's unique conception of unusual time signatures and his ability to play them interestingly.
The time is right for Joe, now one of the most illustrious sidemen in jazz, to record for the first time as a leader (although, of course, in public he is still the drummer of the Brubeck Quartet). For Joe, this has a very special meaning. It is not just an opportunity to perform with a hand-picked group of musicians, including his great friend Phil Woods as saxophonist and arranger. This album represents the fulfillment of a long-expressed desire that grew out of his first tentative experiments, as a boy, with a pair of brushes on the kitchen table in his home in Springfield, Massachusetts.
I believe that Joe was born to be a brilliant musician. This album will justify and renew the faith he has in himself, as well as the high praise and respect he has received from musicians all over the world. In discussing Joe recently, Buddy Rich called him "the best of the newer drummers; he has tremendous technique, and he is the only one to get a musical sound out of the drums."
The tunes and arrangements by Manny Albam and Phil Woods give him ample scope to express himself—whether with sticks on a hard-swinging, white-hot, up-tempo tune such as Just in Time or the delicate mimosa-leaf shading with brushes in Time After Time or Every Time We Say Goodbye. In Joe Morello's playing you can hear the fire, the relentless drive, the gentleness, and the humor that is in him, and he has surrounded himself with some of the best musicians there are to help him make this—his first album on his own—great.
2 days ago | [YT] | 25
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diegodobini2
Charlie Rouse / Paul Quinichette – The Chase Is On (1957)
https://youtu.be/fhCsKd1sqxE
Original Liner Notes:
The protagonist of THE CHASE IS ON is the tenor saxophone. One of a large family of instruments that owes its existence to Adolph Sax, the saxophone was born about the middle of the 19th century in Paris. Therefore, the tenor sax was a relatively new addition to the musical instrumentclan when jazz came into the world.
The young music struck up a fast friendship with the horn, and as in all healthy relationships, there ensued the exploration and examination of each other so necessary to mutual understanding and appreciation. There was a total and honest commitment on the part of jazz to the tenor, and vice versa, and because the rewards of any experience are in direct ratio to the amount and kind of investment made, this relationship of jazz to the saxophone and the saxophone to jazz was bound to prosper.
In the hands of such as Coleman Hawkins, Bud Freeman, Lester Young, Illinois Jacquet, and Stan Getz, the tenor saxophone achieved a stature of leading character, and this pre-eminence seems destined to be perpetuated by newcomers who are heirs of outstanding ability and who appear on the scene from time to time. Two such tenor talents to have emerged in recent years are Paul Quinichette and Charles Rouse.
Paul Quinichette is in his late thirties. His apprenticeship was served with Louis Jordan, Lucky Millinder, Benny Carter, Sid Catlett, Jimmy Lunceford, etc. In 1950 he joined Basie and remained with the Count for two years. Since 1953 he has been freelancing and working with his own groups. Through the years, Quinichette's playing has matured into a most distinctive style, a style marked at once by fine musicianship, warmth, and humor.
Charlie Rouse was born in 1924. His background includes time with Billy Eckstine, Dizzy Gillespie, and Duke Ellington. Since 1950 he has been club-dating and recording around New York. In 1955, he and Julius Watkins of the French horn formed "Les Modes," a quintet that has been awarded much critical acclaim since its inception. Rouse's tenor work has a great deal of definition. He articulates with tremendous clarity and drive and manages sharpness of expression without sacrificing gentleness of tone.
Here then we have two personalities, leaders in their field, each with his point of view. view. It is of historical interest to have recorded a conversation between them.
Although it is frequently said that the art of conversation has been lost, andjudging by most of the talk one hears around, one can hardly dispute this contention. I, it may also be said that in jazz, the art of conversation has been found, and what's more, is flourishing.
A good jazz man is articulate. A master at expressing himself in the language of his chosen instrument, he can convey his views and state his feelings with security, ease, and sometimes even with great inspiration. Moreover, the instinctive wisdom of his talent has provided him with the felicitous ability to listen. He is able to absorb the other man's point of view, and grasping the other man's ideas, he can then make answer to them, counterpoint them, satirize them, affirm or deny them, and all this with spontaneity and wit.
Listen to "The Chase Is On"! After the intro and declarationof the twelve-bar pattern by both men, Rouse takes the first solo. His monologue is facile and explicit. Forty-eight bars later, Quinichette takes over, making his statements with broad infectious humor, Winton Kelly at the keyboard, and Edmund Thigpen on drums contributing painted remarks. Wendell Marshall on bass goes along with everybody, saving any extended comments for "Knittin." On this Rouse original, he and Thigpen introduce the subject with a twelve-bar intro, and then the piano joins in for twelve. Next, the horns come in to establish the twenty-four-bar theme, or twelve-bar phrase, repeated Rouse three times through ditto Quinichette, ditto Kelly, and ditto Marshall. Finally, the twelve-bar theme is played once through to a tag-type ending.
The same personnel briskly discourses on "This Can't Be Love." (On the first two solo choruses we hear Rouse, then it's two for Quinichette. After the piano solo, Rouse initiates a duologue with four bars. Quinichette then takes four, etc.). There is a more casual exchange over "The Tender Trap," a light discussion about "The Things I
Love," and a sedate debate is held on Carmen McRae's topic, "It's The Last Time For Love."
Hank Jones and Freddie Green replace Winton Kelly on "When The Blues Come On, and "You're Cheatin' Yourself." In a breakdown on "Cheatin," Rouse plays the first sixteenbars of the tune and bridge, and Rouse takes the last eight. Then Quinichette tunes in, and Quinichette plays the eight-bar solos for one entire chorus, and Rouse does the same. After Hank Jones "says his piece," it is Rouse who begins the four-bar-each exchange. A three-way conversation begins when we have Thigpen for four, Rouse for four, Thigpen for four, Quinichette for four, Thigpen for four, Rouse for four, and Thigpen for eight. The entire group plays the last chorus through. The change in personalities makes for a somewhat different note in the conversation, but the level remains high.
Some brief notes about the company Rouse and Quini-chette keep on this LP:
Winton Kelly is from Jamaica, B.W.I., is in his middle twenties, and lists, along with other musical background, three years as an accompanist to Dinah Washington and time with Lester Young and Dizzy Gillespie.
Hank Jones hails from Michigan and has on his "resumé" Hot Lips Page, Andy Kirk, Billy Eckstine, John Kirby, Coleman Hawkins, Ella Fitzgerald, etc.
Wendell Marshall is from Missouri, spent a very long time with Duke Ellington, and has been freelancing since 1955.
Ed Thigpen is from Chicago, has toured with Dinah Washington, and has played with Bud Powell, Johnny Hodges, Lennie Tristano, etc.
Freddie Green was born Green was born in March 1911 in South Carolina. He has been with Count Basie almost continuously since 1937 and has recorded with Benny Goodman, Benny Carter, Lester Young, Billie Holiday, etc.
This is a "quality company. It is in a company like this that the still young art of jazz will continue to progress. It is in the hands of such as Quinichette and Rouse that the tenor saxophone will maintain its leading role in any musically progressive conversations.
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PAULETTE GIRARD
4 days ago | [YT] | 39
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diegodobini2
Charles Rouse – Two Is One (1974)
Original Liner Notes:
https://youtu.be/MdhpLW4xlPw
Charles "Charlie" Rouse is best known for his decade as
a tenor saxophonist with Thelonious Monk from 1959 to 69 Transcending the role of a traditional sideman, Rouse developed a unique musical and personal relationship with Monk. The elements during the John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins eras of Monk groups are inarquable. But Route grasped Monk's idiosyncrasies and music in a distinctive manner that earned Monk's trust. musical
That trust ran its course after a long, prolific decade, a period so successful that Rouse's many significant accomplishments before and during were overshadowed.
After some post-Monk downtime, he was eager to make music but on his terms, not as a sideman for one of the most notorious and enigmatic figures in jazz. His vision embraced modern sounds, ditching the quartet format while avoiding pianists entirely and breaking even further with his past by calling himself Charles. All that was needed was the right label partner to back that union. A label prioritized artistry over commerce, encouraging artistic freedom in an industry engineered to prevent it.
Strata-East was the brainchild of trumpeter Charles Toliver and pianist Stanley Cowell. Taking influence from Detroit's Strata label, the Strata East label drew a line in the sand that other labels would not cross without invoking the wrath of their accounting departments. Strata East operated in an industry rife with corruption and institutionalized racism by establishing its own values within the marketplace. Sales potential was a secondary consideration, as Strata firmly believed that a commitment to artist independence would create more significant long-term value. They also sought to rebalance the books regarding contracts, giving artists control and a larger slice of the revenue pie vs. the "industry standard," which was stacked in favor of the label. Tolliver and Cowell weren't doing it to be popular; their approach didn't make them many friends with the establishment, but they created a platform where records could be made that otherwise wouldn't ever be more than a dream. Records like Charles Rouse's, we are One Strata Cast gave the green light to Rouse's idea, and he entered a studio called The Warehouse.
in New York City's midtown in 1974 to realize his vision
"Two Is One" is a phrase originating from a classic abstract Monk-ism, nodding to Monk's holistic approach to jazz. Monk speak conveys a sense of unity and interconnectedness in music—a philosophical oneness between seemingly distinct elements. While Monk could be referring to rhythm, harmony, styles, or collaboration, "two is one" is foundational in Monk's belief system; eliminating boundaries between ideas, musical elements, and people is as vital to the message as the message itself. This idea took root and became muscle memory in the partnership between Monk and Rouse—they could almost finish each other's sentences. Rouse channeled Monk's "two is one" philosophy to name and guide the music making for his one and only Strata East album.
Two Is One is almost two albums in one. Side A is a crate digger's delight, opening with the funky '74 backbeat of "Bitchin'," composed by guitarist George Davis. The route delivers bluesy, soulful breaks over a groovy backbeat, displaying a willingness to develop themes and evolve a solo rather
than wing it. He employs several Monk-era tactics, including deliberate phrasing, returning to core themes, and making challenging ideas sound accessible.
The evolution of groove continues with a composition by Joe Chambers, "Hopscotch." Here, fusion bassist Stanley Clarke, shortly to be a household name via his work with Return to Forever, makes his first of three appearances on this album. Clarke locks in tightly with drummer David Lee, who percussionist Airto Moreira is egging on, adding an illusion of even more velocity to the already brisk pace of the tune. Rouse's soloing bravado conquers the ever-shifting rhythms effortlessly, using his powers of accessibility to make it infectious. The Beastie Boys thought so, foo; they sampled this track on their classic Check Your Head album.
Side A closes with the short-in-length but deep-in-groove"In a Funky Way," another George Davis composition that he underscores with stellar guitar work. Azzedin Weston's congas make it danceably urgent and irresistibly funky.
Side B leads off with the title track, co-written by Rouse and
pianist Roland Hanna. Trigger warning for those who struggled in math class: the polyrhythms and time signatures may provoke anxiety dreams. The liner notes tell us that the first section has the bass in 98 drums in 6/8, and cello and tenor in 3/4. The second section shifts to 7/8 for the rhythm section and 4/4 for cello and tenor. While it's not as over-the-top as some of the jazz-rock fusion experiments of the era, it's an impressive, extended composition, stretching over eleven minutes and incorporating solos by Rouse, Metzke, and a haunting electric cello from Calo Scott.
The album closes with a classic Strata fast spiritual jazz exploration that makes you want to put seatbelts on your sofa. The David Lee penned "In His Presence." Searching quests without boundaries, invoking the disciplined musicianship and rule-breaking attitudes of Monk and Trane with additional influences from Pharoah Sanders and Gary Bartz. Calo Scott's cello carries the deep resonance of terra firma as Rouse soars skywards, invoking a sense of freedom, liberation, and completion.
Fun fact: Two Is One was released 15 years after Rouse's debut and 15 years before his final album; it also marks the midpoint.
of his discography, with six albums before and after. It's the middle child in the Charlie Rouse catalog. Specific patterns have emerged in studies about the character traits of middle children. Creativity, independence, adaptability, rebelliousness, diplomacy, sensitivity to fairness, and a drive to prove themselves are classic middle child characteristics. Given Rouse's artistic mindset around Two is One, both the album and the artist might have a bit of middle-child syndrome. A 1950s US Census archive indicates Charlie Rouse had older and younger siblings, so perhaps there's something to this. Then again, record labels don't have siblings, and those same attributes apply to Strata-East, a label returning to active duty now in these troubled times when the world of music and the broader world need it most.
-Syd Schwartz
Syd Schwartz is @jazzandcoffee on Instagram and the Jazz and Coffee Substack author. As a longtime major label marketing executive, he thought the digital revolution might cure him of overspending on vinyl. That worked out well too.
4 days ago (edited) | [YT] | 39
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diegodobini2
Lee Morgan – The Procrastinator (1967)
https://youtu.be/9KLperG7T7Y
Original Liner Notes:
Freddie Hubbard replaced Morgan in the Jazz Messengers in the summer of 1961, and for two years he wasn't heard from on the national jazz scene (one radio announcer, thinking him dead, programmed a Morgan memorial show which Lee heard). Like too many of his friends and associates, Morgan had been using heroin, and during this period he fought to get himself together in his native Philadelphia. From this low point he returned to New York in 1963, reestablished the Blue Note affilation and, at year's end, recorded his greatest com mercial success, The Sidewinder (BST 84157). The long metered title blues was so popular that Chrysler Corp. used it behind an automobile ad shown during the 1965 World Series.
When the Sidewinder became a hit Morgan was back with Blakey; he left in 1965 to work with his own bands and pursue the larger success his record sales promised. If greater fame and economic security proved illusory, Morgan was able to turn out a series of beautiful albums with the help of some of the period's finest artists. His playing was of a piece with his ear-lier work, only stronger, and aside from attempts to recreate the mood of "The Sidewinder," which became de rigueur on his and others' Blue Note sessions, the most notable change in Morgan was his involvement in compostion. Morgan wrote minimally through 1961, using his early albums to spotlight the work of Philadelphia composers Golson, Owen Marshall and Cal Massey, beginning in 1963, however, Morgan let his own tunes be heard.
This album is prime mid-sixties Morgan, in the company of five stellar associates. Billy Higgins had been Morgan's drummer from The Sidewinder forward; thus he and Morgan had recorded with Wayne Shorter (on Search for the New Land, BST 84169 and The Gigolo, BST 84212) and Herbie Hancock (Search and Cornbread, BST 84222). Bobby Hutcher-son was the leading vibes innovator of the era and (like Mor-gan, Shorter and Hancock) a Blue Note contract artist: he had previously worked with Morgan on Grachan Moncur's Evo lution (BST 84153). While Ron Carter's bass had not pre viously been heard behind Morgan he was perfectly compatible and, of course, he worked with Shorter and Hancock in the immortal Miles Davis Quintet of the time. One fascinating sidelight of the session is that it took place in the middle of the production of Davis' Nefertiti.
"The Procrastinator" is a stunning Morgan composition with a variety of strengths. During the slow section, the main theme conveys a majesty akin to the classic "Search for the New Land," while the countermelody on the bridge could pass for the work of John Lewis; once the tempo arrives, however, the line shows how perfectly it assumes a relaxed hard-bop lope. Morgan is extremely poised and, the pinpoint brilliance of his sound notwithstanding, mellow. Shorter sounds very Traneish, as he did on some of his own Blue Note dates of
the time (and for the most part didn't with Miles), and Hutch erson is joyously fleet. Blue Note's "house" pianists of the time (Hancock, McCoy Tyner, Andrew Hill) always brought out the best in the vibist, and the value of Hancock's support here is unmistakable. The pianist lets his own lines soar, with minimal use of the left hand, and comments pithily behind the ensemble as he does throughout the session.
"Party Time," a staccato medium blues, shows the ability of these men to get into a groove without affectation. Han cock's subtle voicings and shifts in attack sound easy but are actually quite sophisticated, as are Shorter's beautiful simplicity and Morgan's tonal innuendos.
Shorter's "Dear Sir" takes the sextet into the ethereal atmosphere of the Davis quintet. The slow, calmly twisting 16-bar line floats in characteristic Shorter fashion with har monic modulations and rhythmic emphasis appearing at unexpected places. In the tenor solo we hear a different Shorter from "The Procrastinator," a quietly compassionate and highly intelligent voice that has synthesized Coltrane, Rollins, Young and Getz. Hutcherson, whose approach is quite different, achieves an incredible unity of mood, and Hancock is this mood. The trumpet player on a piece like this must obviously confront Davis' example, and Morgan does sound uncommonly close to Miles in a solemn solo.
Morgan's bright "Stop-Start" does just what the title implies. Everyone digs in and flies here (note the change in Shorter), with Hancock bouncing ideas between left and right hands in what might be called his "Blue Note style" (with Davis he often played what amounted to right-handed solos). Morgan breaks up his lines in order to play with the beat, creating the impression of a man whipping the music with controlled fury. There are moments of disorganization. in the fours with Higgins, but they hardly impaire "Stop-Start's" glowing energy.
Carter begins "Rio" with some characteristically rever-berating lines. Shorter's melody is a terse quasi-bossa nova, 14 bars in length, which has an infinite quality akin to so many of Wayne's pieces (like unravelling an onion skin). Hancock and Shorter are most adept in this setting, with the composer working in his enveloping lower register and dis-playing his elegant thematic bent.
With its off-center intro by piano and bass and its stealthy theme, Morgan's "Soft Touch" displays some Shorterish sensitivity. This was the last recorded meeting of the two horn men, who had complemented each other so brilliantly since 1959 in the Jazz Messengers, and "Soft Touch" reminds us how each (in different ways) was a master of tantalizing ambiguity. Morgan's casual cockiness and Shorter's gruff nonchalance both work, aided by the taut rhythm section.
Hutcherson piggy-backs phrase on phrase and shows off his bright metallic sound, while Hancock seems to buff his already lucid ideas through repetition.
The last four years of Morgan's life saw him become in-creasingly vocal about the neglect of jazz by American society in general and the media in particular. In liner notes the interviews he argued for government and media support, and he was one of the leaders of the Jazz and People's Movement which demonstrated during the taping of talk and variety shows during 1970-1. This increased social awareness seemed to signal a new era for Morgan where self-indulgence (char-acterized in the '60s by his song titles, which were often word-plays on his name) gave way to communal concerns. Again, the musical changes were less overt, as he retained all of the earlier passion and straight ahead swing but now shared compositional responsibility among several members of his working quintets.
Morgan's later bands featured Bennie Maupin or Billy Harper in the reed chair, and maintained links with the leader's hard-bop heritage at a time when many of Morgan's peers began dabbling in electricity. An increased use of modes and complex rhythms, plus his own innate intensity, kept Morgan's music from sounding dated, but somehow he retained the image of his Jazz Messenger days. The cover of his last album, Lee Morgan (BST 84901), captures his slightly dated in-souciance as Morgan stares cooly at the camera dressed in suit, tie and dark glasses. (I doubt that anyone else in his band was similarly attired.) Larry Mizell reportedly created the album that Donald Byrd recorded as Black Byrd (an album which revealed the growing jazz crossover marked) as a vehicle for Morgan, but it remains questionable whether Morgan could have adjusted to the demands of contemporary pop stardom. For, as Freddie Hubbard noted in the aforementioned inter-view, "One reason I admire Lee today is that he's not jumping on bandwagons. He's sticking to Lee Morgan, and you either accept it or you don't."
Suddenly, though, Morgan was gone. On the evening of February 19. 1972, his common law wife shot and killed him during an argument at Slugs. Only after the tragedy did his monumental talent, taken for granted during his lifetime, slowly begin to gain its proper share of recognition. Lee Morgan's presence on a record date is now viewed as a gua rantee of quality, and deleted albums under his name are valuable collector's items. The respect many feel for his achievement, like the music on this excellent collection, was unnecessarily delayed. When will we ever learn?
Cover Photo by Charles Stewart
Cover Design by Fujiyama
-Bob Blumenthal
4 days ago | [YT] | 42
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diegodobini2
John Coltrane, Paul Quinichette – Cattin' With Coltrane And Quinichette (1959)
https://youtu.be/jxDY0kEi9iE
Original Liner Notes:
One of the primary reasons jazz has progressed over the years since the legendary Buddy Bolden's great performances, in New Orleans' Lincoln Park; is the many contrasting styles of musicians, as a unit and individually, each spreading a sphere of influence upon his contemporaries. Sometimes these changes have taken place so gradually they have not been noticeable until they have been accomplished. There have been times however, when these changes have been, to the casual listener, almost abrupt, (such as those first notable at Mintons and along 52nd Street).
The leading instrument of influence during the early days of jazz was the trumpet, Oliver, Louis, Bix, etc. Coleman Hawkins instituted the saxophone as an in-fluence in the late twenties and since that time the sax has carried the burden of the influence. In our opinion it remains so today. Tomorrow it might be Mingus' bass or Monk or Tristano's piano, however it is today that we are concerned with, and on this LP there is one of the most interesting contrast of tenor stylings in jazz.
John Coltrane with his driving, almost jet-like pro-gressions, and Paul Quinichette's cool, controlled, deli-berate approach to his horn, offer a wonderful example of contrasting styles. The fact that they are capable of blending these has brought about a highly entertain-ing session.
Coltrane, who has not as yet satisfied himself that he has reached his full potential, displays a searching. quality. Paul conveys a feeling he is confident, that he has chosen his way well. While Paul possesses many of the attributes of an excellent musician, it is unlikely that he will ever become an important in-fluence. (See notes on personalities).
With no intent to take anything away from Paul, it must be noted that Coltrane is today a great tenor influence. Sometime ago we wrote that if there was a tenor that was going to influence other tenormen in this era of jazz it was John Coltrane. Today we are even more convinced. John has not even reached his sphere of importance.
We believe that you are in for some excellent enter-tainment, when you listen to the tracks of this LP, for what one style fails to employ the other does, and they both do it brilliantly. This is what you might term a real down to earth blowing session, an adven ture in the cool and hot, rhythmically and harmonically.
THE TUNES
The opener is Cattin' played in a medium blues tempo. It opens with both John and Paul taking a chorus. As they fade, Mal follows a blue line that leads into John's solo. His solo is indicative of his deep roots and consists of some excellently handled changes. Paul moves in with a smooth treatment, inserting slurs and warm progressions. At the end they are engaged in contrasting exchanges.
Ed opens the door on "Sunday" then stands aside allowing Paul to enter to deliver a series of swinging statements, designed to put you in a fast swinging mood. John is on the scene, before Paul's last note has died away, driving home a most authoritative message. Each take another chorus, then there are a series of exchanges that are reminiscent of the great cutting sessions that used to take place during the swing era. "Exactly Like You" offers Paul in a medium tempo approach to this old standard. (If you have this tune recorded by "Prez" we'd suggest you have it
ready for after reading the personalities you'll want to make a comparison). Mal presents a beautiful solo here, showing his Monk directions. Paul's treatment is almost torrid at times.
"Anatomy": John begins with a few bars then engages in a bit of two part harmony with Paul before enter-ing upon a most interesting solo, on this, another medium tempo excursion. Paul's insertions here have lots of drive and potency. Mal breaks through with excellent interjections before John and Paul go into ex-changes. Note that the performers here never leave you standing between solos, there is expert continuity on all of the tracks.
"Vodka" presents "Trane" on a rather elongated solo on which he displays remarkable dexterity coupled with a wonderful control of tone and imaginative in-novations. This we believe you will find, one of the better Coltrane presentations. Paul is also in his best form here. As you listen to the exchanges between the two note the excellent comping by Mal.
THE PERSONALITIES
Paul Quinchette
Paul makes no pretense that he was not greatly influenced by the late Lester Young. It does not take a critic to see that there is a marked resemblance of tone. However we do not concur with those who insist that he is a carbon copy of "Prez"; nothing is farther from the truth. In his early days. he held a great admiration for "Prez" and at that time there was a considerable likeness in many ways. It has been said that there were many times that Lester was unable to select certain recording made by him with the Count Basie band that had been re-recorded in later years when Paul took over his chair in the band. This we doubt very much, but as we said there was a great similarity in the early days, but Pauls greatness shows in the fact that he was able to replace Lester without causing harm to the Basie reed selection. He was highly respected by Count and the other members of the band.
Today he still has the "Prez" tone but his own originality is in evidence. His thinking and innovations have taken on a modern structure that have been hid-den too long by the ghost of "Prez". We think it's time that he had a hearing on his own.
John Coltrane If I have ever met a musician whom
I sincerely believe is a dedicated one, then it is most certainly "Trane". He has a burning desire to please, both his fellow musician and those who spend their money to hear him in person or buy his recordings. Acceptance means a great deal to him for he, though shy and perhaps a little too withdrawn at times has a real human interest in other people. If he can con-tinue as he has been doing for the past two years there is little doubt, he will become one of the major influences in jazz.
Mal Waldron Mal has the distinction of being one of the better composers of modern jazz. Three of the tunes heard on this LP are his compositions, "Cattin'", "Vodka" and "Anatomy". You might also say he is a liaison between the jazz of today and the jazz of tomor-row. Recently he has, without compromising his basic "Monk" influences, found a warmer medium of ex-pression in his playing that is certain to increase his
prestige as a pianist.
Ed Thigpen & Julian Euell Two-thirds of a very fine rhythm section in attendance on this session have handled a difficult assignment with relaxed poise.
Notes by: BOB SNEAD
Recording: VAN GELDER
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diegodobini2
The Dave Bailey Sextet – Gettin' Into Somethin' (1960)
https://youtu.be/3zWiF9RuYTU
Original Liner Notes:
Jazz, like other forms of art, has a unique language which serves not only as a pattern of speech for the performing musician but also as a working vocabulary for those who discuss and evaluate the music. This language of jazz is noted for the remarkably descriptive set of idioms and phrases which reflect and define the nature of the music itself The phrase "gettin' into somethin'" has great significance for both the musician and the talented listener. It means one is at the point where important musical events are about to take place. There is a sense of arriving at the heart of the matter, of coming to that which is most important In Dave Bailey's first album for Epic, "One Foot in the Gutter" (LA 16008, BA 16008, stereo), there was a great feeling of relaxation and camaraderie; most reviewers noted that everyone concerned was very much at ease. In "Gettin' Into Somethin'" there is a different approach. The audience acted as a great motivating force, as you will hear on the opening of Slop Jah. Dave asked the audience to clap time, and this audience participation affects the mood of the entire performance The first track, Slop Jah, is an original by Clark Terry. It features a "no-nonsense" piano solo by Horace Parlan and an opening phrase on tenor sax by Charlie Rouse which in effect defies description. The tune is based on the blues, and the slow-medium tempo is very much in the current "back-to roots" movement. The second track, Little Old Mongoose, is an up-tempo swinger by Clark and Archie Moore. The things to listen for here are Clark Terry's magnificent control of his horn and perhaps the most integrated rhythm section sound ever behind Curtis Fuller's set of trombone choruses. Evad Smurd is Dave Bailey's solo spot. There are some excellent breaks by Dave and a wonderful trombone chorus by Curtis Fuller On the second side, Blues for J. P. by Horace Parlan is a soulful number dedicated to his wife. Charlie Rouse is the man to listen for here. His tenor solo is one of the most explosive of the year Clark Terry plays both flugel-horn and trumpet within the same chorus, pointing up the fact that Clark's sense of humor adds enormously to the value of his improvising It is obvious from these numbers that Dave Bailey and friends "got into somethin'." We hope that you will feel that "somethin'" too.
MIKE BERNIKER
Japanese 2015 Cd Liner Notes (google translated)
Dave Bailey's albums draw listeners into the fascinating world of modern jazz and leave them feeling truly good. There are no flashy drum solos, which are common in drummer leader albums, and the exchanges of verse between soloist and drummer are almost unheard of. As the leader, Bailey focuses on supporting the soloists, bringing out their individuality and individuality while providing the perfect cushion. It's safe to say that there have been few drummers who could deliver such a precise and lively beat for the soloists. Dave Bailey was born in Portsmouth, Virginia, in February 1926. He aspired to be a pilot as a teenager, and began studying jazz at age 21 after moving to New York. In the 1950s, he played in bands such as Lou Donaldson and Gerry Mulligan. He visited Japan in January 1962 as part of singer Chris Connor's trio, and again in 1964 as a member of the Mulligan Quartet.
"Gettin' Into Something" was recorded in the fall of 1960, under the leadership of Dave Bailey. Between 1960 and 1961, Bailey released five albums as a leader for Epic, Jazz Time, and Jazz Line, all of which exude the funky charm unique to black jazz. This Epic release is his second, following "One Foot in the Gutter." Bailey's drumming is best described as "moderate," but that doesn't mean his playing is limited to simply keeping rhythm. While inspiring his soloists, Bailey also maintains control as a leader, overseeing the band and creating a tight, cohesive sound. What may seem a bit rough at first glance is actually quite satisfying to listen to, demonstrating Dave Bailey's true talent and impressive musicianship.
To record the album, Bailey called on familiar players and invited close colleagues and friends to the studio, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of a club jam session. This creates a more relaxed atmosphere and allows the performance to evoke the joy and passion unique to black jazz. The musicians include drummer Dave Bailey, Clark Terry (trumpet, flugelhorn), Curtis Fuller (trombone), Charlie Rouse (tenor saxophone), Horace Parlan (piano), and Peck Morrison (bass). The relaxed studio atmosphere allows each musician's individuality to emerge even more clearly, adding to the unique enjoyment of this album. All three tracks, "Slop Jar," "Little Old Mongoose," and "Evad Smurd," are originals written by Clark Terry. The composer's own trumpet solos, masterfully manipulating the mute on "Slop Jar," are truly virtuosic. The contrast between Terry's solos and the earthy feel of Rouse and Fuller's is also enjoyable. "Blues for J.P." is by pianist Horace Parlan. J.P. refers to trombonist Julian Priester. The track has a funky theme, and each player's unique talents are showcased in a relay of free-flowing, relaxed blues solos. Bailey's consistent rhythm and precise support, driving the front line, are not to be missed on any track. Dave Bailey later became an active member of Clark Terry's quintet with Bob Brookmeyer, but in 1969 he retired from drumming to become a small plane instructor. In the music world, he also demonstrated his business acumen, working in the management of New York's Jazzmobile. Given this, it is fair to say that the many albums he left behind as a leader, which could be described as the "essence of funky jazz," are of even greater value to fans.
Okazaki Masamichi
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diegodobini2
Charlie Rouse – Yeah! (1961)
https://youtu.be/RsAzZao2s-k
Original Liner Notes:
One of the problems facing the growth of jazz as a whole is the matter of myths and legends, which appear almost daily. These legends usually concern themselves with jazz musicians who suddenly arise as demi-gods on the scene. Every month, a new young player "arrives" and becomes the center of recording activity. During these frantic moments it becomes imperative to listen to those who, over the years, have proven themselves to be masters of their particular instruments. When all is said and done, one must still look to people like Dizzy Gillespie, Clark Terry, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Bud Powell, and their peers.
Tenor saxophonist Charlie Rouse is a member in good standing of this "never-to-be-forgotten" school. His playing has impressed critics and fans for many years. Recent and further proof of Charlie's stature was an invitation to join Thelonius Monk's group.
Charlie's tenor is aggressive, without the usual strident, piercing tone to which listeners have become inured. His sense of swing is uncomplicated, and there is an easy-riding quality to his playing. He is urgent and powerful. Many times he seems to be "floating" on top of his rhythm section. For all these reasons, I feel it is high time Charlie was recorded as a soloist.
This recording also marks the debut of an exciting new pianist—Billy Gardner. As Charlie says, "He sure plays nice things behind you." Billy's playing is very much in the Red Garland-Winton Kelly groove, yet there is a definite individuality to his approach. Dave Bailey on drums and Peck Morrison on bass form the
rest of the rhythm section, and their playing is superb throughout.
Charlie's "floating quality" first becomes apparent in You Don't Know What Love Is. Listen for Billy Gardner's delicate, yet punchy, piano fill. Charlie plays very romantically here, but always urgently.
Lil Rousin' is a swinger in the true sense of the word.
Dave Bailey is particularly impressive. Charlie plays with no holds barred, and Billy's solo adds to the excitement. Stella By Starlight closes the first side. Here Charlie's sax sings with a warmth that one rarely hears on any recording. After the opening statement of the melody, a gentle swing develops. Billy's block chord solo is an exercise in tasty driving that makes this one of the definitive and memorable versions of Stella.
The opener on the second side is Billy's Blues, an original by Billy Gardner. Billy performs the opening theme, then Charlie enters with an explosion. The medium-slow tempo produces one of the most relaxed blues performances on record. Rouse's Point has a very intricate opening; Charlie builds his solo beautifully, demonstrating wonderful command of his horn. His statements are short and to the point. Peck gives Charlie great support here. There Is No Greater Love is another example of Charlie Rouse in a romantic mood; Charlie digs into his bag of blues to give his solo deeper meaning. Billy picks up this cue and offers a superb solo.
This is Charlie Rouse's first album for Epic. We think you will agree with us that there should be many more to come.
- MIKE BERNIKER
Charlie Rouse was born in Washington, D.C. After studies on the clarinet, he turned to the tenor sax and became a highly inventive soloist. He has played with Billy Eckstine, Dizzy Gillespie, and Duke Ellington, and more recently with Buddy Rich and Thelonious Monk.
Dave Bailey was born in Portsmouth, Va. Moving to New York in 1947, he studied at the Music Center Conservatory, then played with Johnny Hodges, Charlie Mingus, Horace Silver, and others. He has made four European tours with Gerry Mulligan.
Peck (John) Morrison, from Lancaster, Penna., studied at the Hartnell School of Music. He has played with Horace Silver, Jay and Kai, Duke Ellington, Gerry Mulligan, and many others.
New York-born Billy Gardner is presently a student at the City College of New York, majoring in psychology and criminology. He was discovered when he sat in with the combo at Small's Paradise in the summer of 1960. This album marks his recording debut.
Lil Reusin' and Stella by Starlight were recorded in New York City on December 20, 1960. You Don't Know What Love Is, Billy's Blues, Rouse's Point, and No Greater Love were recorded on December 21.
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diegodobini2
Oliver Nelson Sextet Feat.: Eric Dolphy / Richard Williams – Screamin' The Blues (1961)
https://youtu.be/_SpbM64qFZE
Original Liner Notes:
Oliver Nelson is a reedman and composer of power and imagination. Reviewing a previous Nelson album, Taking Care of Business (New Jazz 9233), John S. Wilson observed in Down Beat that Nelson has a "rich purity of tone, a direct unclutteredattack, and a singing projection that mark him as one of the most impressive saxophonists playing these days." Wilson cites the fact that Nelson has both a glowingly singing quality and a vibrant strength. "Nelson," summarizes the critic, "is not just a blower but a builder as well with a strong sense of structure."
The recipient of this paean is with the Quincy Jones band as of this writing but intends eventually to form a combo of his own. Nelson has already acquired a diversityof experience and training that accounts in part for the security of his technique and the broadness of his concept. Non Born in St. Louis on June 4, 1932, he comes from a musical family. A brother was in the Cootie Williams saxophone section in the 1940s, and a sister played piano in a St. Louis combo. Nelson began studying piano at six and switched to saxophone five years later. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he's had considerable big band experience, having worked with the Jeter-Pillars and George Hudson bands (1947-1948), Ναι Towles (1949), and Louis Jordan's big band (1950-1951). As a marine, he was in the 3rd Division Band (1952-1954). In more recent years, Nelson has been with Erskine Hawkins, Wild Bill Davis, and Louis Beilson, as well as at the Apollo Theater and heading a combo of his own at the Five Spot in New York.
Nelson Han has also been trained in classical music, having studied composition and theory at Washington University (1954-1957) and Lincoln University (1957-1958). Extramusically, he's an expert in embalming and taxidermy, and his jobs have included runs as a streetcar and bus driver in St. Louis.
For his album, Nelson chose an exceptionally challenging group of embalmed specimens. Eric Dolphy, as he has indicated in Outward Bound (New Jazz 8236) and in his work during the past year with Charlie Mingus, is, along with Ornette Coleman, the most venturesome and original young alto saxophonist in jazz. He plays with unremittingly fierce emotion and often daring imagination. Richard Williams, who can be heard in Gigi Gryce's Sayin' Something [New Jazz 8230], is a uniquely lyrical modernist with a singing brass tone, sweeping, long-lined conception, and an allowing rhythmic momentum that makes many of his colleagues think of Fats Navarro. Pianist Richard Wyands's work is always lucid and thoughtfully structured. He is also an alert, judicious accompanist George Duvivier is one of the most underestimated bassists in jazz. Besides his prodigious technique, Duvivier gets a vibrantly alive sound from the bass, and his beat could support a full military band. Roy Haynes too has been taken for granted, except by other musicians, for much too long. Roy not only keeps time impeccably, but he is a listening drummer, and therefore, adjusts his backgrounds to what each soloist is doing and building. Roy is a remarkably quick-witted accompanist with a superior sense of dynamics as well as a resourceful capacity to provide accents and propel a soloist without making him stumble.
Oliver Nelson arranged all the numbers and is the composer of live. His "Screamin' the Blues" is a twelve-bar blues. Nelson begins preaching on the tenor from the beginning. His gutty tone and aggressive attack herald the passion with which he plays throughout the album. Richard Wyands provides a change of temperature in his distillation of the blues. Complementing Wyands's softer approach, Nelson returns gently but is soon wailing again with fire and a commanding beat into a striking solo that is marked by the hard clarity of his articulationand the soaring sound whose cracklingbrilliance is effectively set off by contrasting pinched notes to intensify the
monologue. Eric Dolphy's rowdy, passionate sound on bass clarinet is immediately identifiable. Dolphy often tries to approximate the pitch and the cadences of speech, and as a result, his solos, as here, can be startlingly unexpected. In one sense, Dolphy is going back to the early jazz tradition of highly vocalized harmony, but in addition, he uses a thoroughly modernand personalized harmonic language. We're back to bedrock with George Duvivier's resonantly authoritative solo. The final ensemble is led by Nelson's bursting tenor, and the horns climax their testimony with a rattle of triplets from the rhythm and blues heritage.
"March On, March On" is a minor blues theme by Esmond Edwards, the redoubtable A&R man for Prestige and New Jazz. The reason for the title is made clear in the martial beat of the ensemble opening that precedes Richard Williams's conscating flight, Oliver Nelson's driving solo, Eric Dolphy's turbulently searching alto, and Richard Wyands's comparatively calm but blues-tinged piano. " The Drive, styled by Oliver Nelson's wife, is a 12-bar song. Nehon's solo is interesting for its consistent rhythmic surge. Williams is bold, and yet at his fastest climbing speed, he never loses the lyrical essence of his style. Dolphy explodes again into a soul that, for all its asymmetrical restlessness, swings as hard as everyone else's. The clear difference in approach between these three horn soloists adds further interestto the album: the straightforward, robust Nelson; the darting, full-throated Williams; and the experimental, unpredictable Dolphy. The revealing contrast in style is made immediately evident in the exchanges of the three horns at the end of "Three Seconds on the final side.
"The Meets" is Oliver Nelson's contribution to the current rerouting of the gospel train in modern jazz. The opening theme contains both the preacher's work and the congregation's response. Williams soon supplies a bristling secular air to the proceedings, launching into an exceptionally arresting solo. Dolphy, as usual, sounds as if he has so many ideas and feelings to get out that both he and his homie have difficulty containing them all. What makes Dolphy so absorbing as an experimenter is that there is no detached cerebral blueprinting in his work. There is wild gnashing in his playing, all the emotions he feels of the moment tumbling after each other and yet forming an indomitably personal whole. Nelson, son of Lenor, comes closerto the preaching of the original ensemble statement and finally does holler the message explicitly as Dolphy and Williams become the parishioners.
"Three Seconds," a minor blues, is thus titled because the three horns play seconds in the tune. Williams is on top, with Eric Dolphy a major second away from him. Nelson is at the bottom, playing the melody and superimposing major and minor seconds on the line. The voicing is evocative, and the bursting of the mood is all the more dramatic as Eric Dolphy lunges out of the ensemble into his solo. Williams is effective on mute, and Nelson has another big-toned, roaring outburst.
An admirer of Eric Dolphy's playing, Nelson wrote "Alkoltis" for both of them; Eric's is the first solo after both play the sinewy theme. Again, there is a strong contrast between Dolphy's jagged lines and volcanic attack on the one hand and the lean, clear, directly driving Oliver Nelson. Somehow, by the way, Richard Williams sounds like a brass section in the shooting backgrounds for both Dolphy and Nelson. Both altos return for the closing statement of the theme, and the album ends with the fierce urgency that has driven everyone's playing from the beginning.
-NAT HENTOFF
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diegodobini2
Oliver Nelson – The Blues And The Abstract Truth (1961)
https://youtu.be/Pvl2Pv0n3DQ
Original Liner Notes:
Classical music of the 19th Century, and contemporary music of our own 20th Century brought about the need for adopting a different perspective in order to create music that was meaningful and vital. This was done in many ways too numerous and complicated to mention here, but one device which has always been successful in both classical music and in present-day jazz is to let the musical ideas determine the form and shape of a musical composition. In effect, that is what I have tried to do here. The blues, which is a twelve-bar form and the form and chord structure I've Got Rhythm, being 32 measures in length, was my material for all of the compositions on this album. The augmentation of the forms themselves comes from thematic motifs and melodic ideas.
STOLEN MOMENTS, written in 1960, is a 16-bar composition derived from blues in C
minor. The tune consists of three melodic ideas which extend the basic blues form. The divisions within the piece would then be 8 bars, 6 bars and 2 bars. In order to add contrast, the harmonic progressions for the solos are minor blues 12 measures in length. Freddie Hubbard begins with a very sensitive and soulful trumpet solo, followed by Eric Dolphy on flute and a tenor solo by myself. Bill Evans completes the series with a beautiful piano solo. After the final statement of melody, the piece ends quietly.
HOE-DOWN lengthens the form of rhythm from 32 to 44 bars. The two notes at the very
beginning of the tune are responsible for the melody itself, and it turns into a statement and response kind of thing which lasts for 44 measures. For the solos, I chose to use the 32-bar mold for the sake of variety, and, needless to say, Freddie Hubbard makes the most of it with a rousing but serious-minded trumpet solo. Eric Dolphy follows with a beautifully projected and controlled interesting alto saxophone solo. I play next and Roy Haynes fol-lows with an 8-bar drum solo which leads back to the written part of the composition. This time we begin on the melody proper, and put the first 4 measures of the tune at the end. This serves as a kind of arc to unify and tie the whole piece together.
CASCADES started out as a saxophone exercise I composed while in school. As it turned out, 32 bars were molded into 56 bars to accommodate all the things that seemed to lend themselves naturally for further musical expansion.
After the complete statement of melody, Cascades becomes a vehicle for Freddie Hubbard and pianist Bill Evans. Freddie begins his solo with long melodic lines that weave in and out of the harmonic progressions. He sounds to me like John Coltrane playing a trumpet. Bill begins his piano solo quietly and gradually builds his lines in intensity and structure. At the conclusion of his last chorus, Bill leads the four horns into the ensemble out-chorus. The out-chorus is different from the melodic line present in the beginning of the piece. It is twelve bars in length and is borrowed harmonically from Stolen Moments. Again the melodic ideas have determined the size and shape of this composition.
YEARNIN' opens the B side of this LP and is a blues in C major with only superficial modifications. Pianist Bill Evans begins with two choruses of blues which set the mood of the piece. The first ensemble is 16 measures long. The second ensemble, 12 measures in length, employs a kind of "amen" cadence that is different from the liturgical one in that it is stationary and does not move when the harmonic progression is resolved. The second ensemble leads directly into Eric Dolphy's alto solo, a trumpet solo by Freddie Hubbard, and some sensitive playing by Bill Evans.
BUTCH and BUTCH is dedicated to my oldest sister and her husband. It remains a blues throughout with no structural changes. I decided to couple the ideas used in this tune and orchestrate them first as statement of melody, then as statement of melody plus back-ground. After a brief introduction by the wonderful Roy Haynes, Eric and Freddie play the bop-like line and are joined by George Barrow on baritone saxophone and myself on tenor for the second statement of melody. This leads to the blowing choruses by myself, followed by Freddie, Eric and pianist Bill Evans.
TEENIE'S BLUES is dedicated to my baby sister, who is a fine singer and pianist now liv-ing in St. Louis, Missouri. The purpose of this tune was to write a blues using traditional harmony employing no more than 3 harmonic progressions. Since the dominant 7th is considered by theorists to be one of the so-called "blue" notes, I limited the underlying harmony to consist of these 3 tonal centers: F7, B flat 7 and C7. The melodic line Eric Dolphy and I play on alto saxophones is made up of displaced intervals which have points
of tension and rest. They are transposed up a half step for the sake of tension and down a half step for resolution of this tension.
Eric has the first solo and gives me the motif that enables me to begin my solo. Bill Evans takes the motif that I conclude with to begin his solo which leads into a piz-zicato bass solo by Paul Chambers. After the bass solo, the melody is restarted on the forte dynamic level for twelve bars and at mezzo forte the second time until the 11th and 12th measures. At this point, Eric and I drive the theme home and, instead of a complete cutoff, allow the melody to dissipate naturally.
The compositions on this recording present a phase of my development up to the present time as a jazz writer (as distinguished from my contemporary or so-called "clas-sical" music) and might shed some light on the subject of where I would like to go as a composer and arranger in the jazz idiom.
As a player, I became aware of some things that I knew existed, but I was afraid to see them as they really were. There is no need to elaborate; but, when I arrived on the New York scene in March 1959, I believed I had my own musical identity; but before long, everything got turned around and I began a period of self-searching. One big influ-ence for tenor players was John Coltrane and it was an influence that I could not deny. Sonny Rollins was the other. It was not until this LP was recorded on Thursday, the 23rd of February, 1961, that I finally had broken through and realized that I would have to be true to myself, to play and write what I think is vital and, most of all, to find my own personality and identity. This does not mean that a musician should reject and shut things out. It means that he should learn, listen, absorb and grow but retain all the things that comprise the identity of the individual himself.
I take off my cap to Paul Chambers, Eric Dolphy, Roy Haynes, Freddie Hubbard and Bill Evans for the fine talent they displayed, and especially to George Barrow, who played only a supporting role. His baritone parts were executed with such precision and devotion that I find it necessary to make special mention of his fine work.
– Oliver Nelson
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