Richard "Groove" Holmes – Broadway (1980) https://youtu.be/S_6j-270k0A Original Liner Notes: Much of jazz literature, whether it's a scholarly es say, a personality profile or a cursory review, falls into one of two categories: words celebrating the jazz innovator-an ill-defined term easily and fre-quently abused; or words chastizing the jazz apos-tate-the prodigal son who, for some vaguely nefar-ious reason (personal greed and corporate pressure are the most common charges), has drifted into commercial waters, stranding ashore more "ser-ious-minded" listeners.
Between this rock and hard place lives Richard "Groove" Holmes. Groove came up at a time when Jimmy Smith had a lock on the label "innovator," at least as it applies to the jazz organ, and when more fashionable, less gifted musicians were seeing their trendiest digressions analyzed in print. Words have never been wasted on Groove.
Over the years he's made some excellent record-ings-in small groups with musicians like Gene Ammons, Paul Chambers and Teddy Edwards; in big band settings with Gerald Wilson, Oliver Nelson and Richard Evans; and right here on Broadway with a fine quartet led by tenor saxophonist Houston Per-quan son. Yet, as is often the case in jazz, Groove's contri-butuions have been sadly overlooked.
It's a reality not lost on Groove. He takes comfort in knowing that he's at least been able to keep his music "out there" for the past 20 years. Time spent criss-crossing the country, shuttling from one small club to another, pumping out great sounds in that dexterous left-handed style of his, a style as distinc-tive-yes, as innovative-as any the jazz organ has known.
"It's kind of like Columbus," says Groove, reflect-ing on Jimmy Smith's ascendancy. "Everybody said Columbus discovered America. Then they found out Leif Ericson was here first. Well, the history books don't have room for both of them. When I first heard the jazz organ I heard it through Jimmy. He was a trend setter and we're good friends. But I didn't fol-low Jimmy into the blues. I created something al-together different."
He did it, primarily, by thinking as bassist, something you'll hear time and again on this album. Most organists marvel at the autonomy of Groove's left hand. "A lot of them go out and just hire a bass guitarist to get the same sound," says Groove. "If you do that, you might as well be playing the piano.
"I'm fortunate in that I've always been able to play a funky or syncopated bass line with one hand and solo with the other-always changing my patterns. I don't like to keep the same thing from one chorus to another. I might start with an F instead of an A. My approach has always been different."
What also sets Groove apart from the crowd is his affection for ballads, his singularly light touch, and his enduring gift for melodic improvisation. His fondness for standards is well documented. You can hear it on his recordings with Gene Ammons in the early 60s, years later with the immensely suc-cessful Misty, and now with the haunting rendition of Everything Must Change contained here.
Misty gave Groove a "big name but not a big break." As fate would have it, success broke for him at a time when he was being booked by the same agency as Jimmy Smith. "It wasn't his fault," says Groove. "But the agency was so busy keeping him in the spotlight that I lost out. Misty was the biggest instrumental going at the time, but no college dates, one-nighters, or good club dates were coming in. I was treated pretty funky," he says, before adding with a laugh, "I guess you can't have everything."
Maybe not, but now that the organ is undergoing a renaissance in jazz, it would be nice to see Groove receive a little of what's due him. Broadway should get the ball rolling.
First, this album features Houston Person, who has that big, sonorous tone that Groove enjoys so much. The temptation to compare Houston's ap-proach to that of Ammons is hard to resist. But the truth is that Houston plays straight from the heart with the sort of confidence and warmth that recall many great players-Ammons, Illinois Jacquet and Arnett Cobb, to name but a few.
"I listened to all of them when I was coming up," says Houston, "Gene, Illinois, everyone. Something about their music always attracted me and I tried to listen to them whenever I could." The other musi cian who stands out on Broadway is the young gui-tarist Gerald Smith. He's fast, tasty and resourceful. Best of all, he knows his way around the "groove," working in and out of the textured rhythms supplied by drummer Bobby Ward, percussionist Ralph Dor-sey and Holmes' restless southpaw.
About the tunes: Broadway is the brisk, uncluttered, straight-ahead jazz of which so many Muse albums are made. Houston establishes the theme with a brash, almost booting delivery and then confidently extends it. Gerald alternates single note sprays with scalar pro-gressions before yielding to Groove's charging mo-mentum.
Everything Must Change captures Houston at his most soulful and expressive. He never played this piece before, but he handles it with the cool assur-ance of someone who knows every word. This tune is also typical of Groove's sensitive accompani ment. One of his biggest regrets is that he's never really had a chance to work consistently with a vocalist. One hearing of this track and you'll see what we've been missing.
Ode to Larry Young is a tribute to the late jazz or-ganist. Says Groove: "Larry Young was too far ad-vanced for any organ player to copy. Larry was so far out that he was like a Coltrane to the music. You know when Coltrane first came out and everyone said 'What's he doing?' No one could understand it. Well, Larry got the same reaction." Groove's tribute, more than than any other track on this album, dis-plays his mastery of Fender-like bass lines.
Moon River is what the "groove" is all about. The percussive arrangement provides Houston and Groove with a solid foundation for their solos. Each blossoms with lovely melodic improvisations and gives this standard a refreshing look.
Katherine was one of two slow ballads requested by Houston, who produced this session. "I was really surprised by it," Houston recalls. "It's a lovely ballad written by Groove and it came to me so natur-ally."
Plenty, Plenty Blues takes both Groove and Hous-ton full circle. This is a standard blues, the kind closely linked with the jazz organ of a quarter cen-tury ago and one which still holds up today. "All the organ players-Smith, McGriff, McDuff-enjoy this kind of blues," says Groove. "I love it too, but I've al-ways tried to bring something new to the jazz organ. That's why people began calling it the "groove". That's my sound!"
The proof is in the listening.
-Mike Joyce
diegodobini2
Richard "Groove" Holmes – Broadway (1980)
https://youtu.be/S_6j-270k0A
Original Liner Notes:
Much of jazz literature, whether it's a scholarly es say, a personality profile or a cursory review, falls into one of two categories: words celebrating the jazz innovator-an ill-defined term easily and fre-quently abused; or words chastizing the jazz apos-tate-the prodigal son who, for some vaguely nefar-ious reason (personal greed and corporate pressure are the most common charges), has drifted into commercial waters, stranding ashore more "ser-ious-minded" listeners.
Between this rock and hard place lives Richard "Groove" Holmes. Groove came up at a time when Jimmy Smith had a lock on the label "innovator," at least as it applies to the jazz organ, and when more fashionable, less gifted musicians were seeing their trendiest digressions analyzed in print. Words have never been wasted on Groove.
Over the years he's made some excellent record-ings-in small groups with musicians like Gene Ammons, Paul Chambers and Teddy Edwards; in big band settings with Gerald Wilson, Oliver Nelson and Richard Evans; and right here on Broadway with a fine quartet led by tenor saxophonist Houston Per-quan son. Yet, as is often the case in jazz, Groove's contri-butuions have been sadly overlooked.
It's a reality not lost on Groove. He takes comfort in knowing that he's at least been able to keep his music "out there" for the past 20 years. Time spent criss-crossing the country, shuttling from one small club to another, pumping out great sounds in that dexterous left-handed style of his, a style as distinc-tive-yes, as innovative-as any the jazz organ has known.
"It's kind of like Columbus," says Groove, reflect-ing on Jimmy Smith's ascendancy. "Everybody said Columbus discovered America. Then they found out Leif Ericson was here first. Well, the history books don't have room for both of them. When I first heard the jazz organ I heard it through Jimmy. He was a trend setter and we're good friends. But I didn't fol-low Jimmy into the blues. I created something al-together different."
He did it, primarily, by thinking as bassist, something you'll hear time and again on this album. Most organists marvel at the autonomy of Groove's left hand. "A lot of them go out and just hire a bass guitarist to get the same sound," says Groove. "If you do that, you might as well be playing the piano.
"I'm fortunate in that I've always been able to play a funky or syncopated bass line with one hand and solo with the other-always changing my patterns. I don't like to keep the same thing from one chorus to another. I might start with an F instead of an A. My approach has always been different."
What also sets Groove apart from the crowd is his affection for ballads, his singularly light touch, and his enduring gift for melodic improvisation. His fondness for standards is well documented. You can hear it on his recordings with Gene Ammons in the early 60s, years later with the immensely suc-cessful Misty, and now with the haunting rendition of Everything Must Change contained here.
Misty gave Groove a "big name but not a big break." As fate would have it, success broke for him at a time when he was being booked by the same agency as Jimmy Smith. "It wasn't his fault," says Groove. "But the agency was so busy keeping him in the spotlight that I lost out. Misty was the biggest instrumental going at the time, but no college dates, one-nighters, or good club dates were coming in. I was treated pretty funky," he says, before adding with a laugh, "I guess you can't have everything."
Maybe not, but now that the organ is undergoing a renaissance in jazz, it would be nice to see Groove receive a little of what's due him. Broadway should get the ball rolling.
First, this album features Houston Person, who has that big, sonorous tone that Groove enjoys so much. The temptation to compare Houston's ap-proach to that of Ammons is hard to resist. But the truth is that Houston plays straight from the heart with the sort of confidence and warmth that recall many great players-Ammons, Illinois Jacquet and Arnett Cobb, to name but a few.
"I listened to all of them when I was coming up," says Houston, "Gene, Illinois, everyone. Something about their music always attracted me and I tried to listen to them whenever I could." The other musi cian who stands out on Broadway is the young gui-tarist Gerald Smith. He's fast, tasty and resourceful. Best of all, he knows his way around the "groove," working in and out of the textured rhythms supplied by drummer Bobby Ward, percussionist Ralph Dor-sey and Holmes' restless southpaw.
About the tunes: Broadway is the brisk, uncluttered, straight-ahead jazz of which so many Muse albums are made. Houston establishes the theme with a brash, almost booting delivery and then confidently extends it. Gerald alternates single note sprays with scalar pro-gressions before yielding to Groove's charging mo-mentum.
Everything Must Change captures Houston at his most soulful and expressive. He never played this piece before, but he handles it with the cool assur-ance of someone who knows every word. This tune is also typical of Groove's sensitive accompani ment. One of his biggest regrets is that he's never really had a chance to work consistently with a vocalist. One hearing of this track and you'll see what we've been missing.
Ode to Larry Young is a tribute to the late jazz or-ganist. Says Groove: "Larry Young was too far ad-vanced for any organ player to copy. Larry was so far out that he was like a Coltrane to the music. You know when Coltrane first came out and everyone said 'What's he doing?' No one could understand it. Well, Larry got the same reaction." Groove's tribute, more than than any other track on this album, dis-plays his mastery of Fender-like bass lines.
Moon River is what the "groove" is all about. The percussive arrangement provides Houston and Groove with a solid foundation for their solos. Each blossoms with lovely melodic improvisations and gives this standard a refreshing look.
Katherine was one of two slow ballads requested by Houston, who produced this session. "I was really surprised by it," Houston recalls. "It's a lovely ballad written by Groove and it came to me so natur-ally."
Plenty, Plenty Blues takes both Groove and Hous-ton full circle. This is a standard blues, the kind closely linked with the jazz organ of a quarter cen-tury ago and one which still holds up today. "All the organ players-Smith, McGriff, McDuff-enjoy this kind of blues," says Groove. "I love it too, but I've al-ways tried to bring something new to the jazz organ. That's why people began calling it the "groove". That's my sound!"
The proof is in the listening.
-Mike Joyce
3 weeks ago | [YT] | 25