This 1963 date is titled for Dexter Gordon's living in self-imposed Parisian exile and recording there with two other exptriates and a French native. Along with Gordon, pianist Bud Powell and Kenny "Klook" Clarke were living in the City of Lights and were joined by the brilliant French bassman Pierre Michelot. This is a freewheeling bop date with the band working out on such categoric standards as "Scrapple from the Apple," and "A Night in Tunisia." In addition, American vernacular tunes such as "Willow Weep for Me" and "Stairway to the Stars" are included. Gordon is at the very top of his game here. His playing is crisp, tight, and full of playful fury. Powell, who at this stage of his life was almost continually plagued by personal problems, never sounded better than he does in this session. His playing is a tad more laid-back here, but is nonetheless full of the brilliant harmonic asides and incendiary single-note runs he is legendary for. The rhythm section is close-knit and stop-on-a-dime accurate.
Dexter Gordon - Our Man in Paris
Rahsaan Roland Kirk - Rip, Rig and Panic
Despite its brevity, Rip, Rig, and Panic may be pre-Rahsaan Roland Kirk's greatest outing. Recorded in 1965 at Rudy Van Gelder's studio in New Jersey, Kirk is teamed with the most awesome rhythm section he ever recorded with: drummer Elvin Jones, pianist Jaki Byard, and bassist Richard Davis. Clocking in at a mere 36 minutes, Kirk and his quartet moved through a series of musicological changes that defined him as an artist at the time. Five of the seven compositions are his, and reach through each of the phases that Kirk was interested in integrating into his compositional and improvisational voice. First there is the elegant modal music of "No Tonic Press," with its non-linear mathematic groove maintained with verve by Jones in all the knotty spots. Then there is the ethereal Middle-Eastern harmony juxtaposed against the changes in "Once in a While" by Bennie Green. But the whole thing comes together by the third tune, when Kirk sifts his hearing of New Orleans music into gear with "From Bechet, Byas, and Fats." Using his loopy manzello to approximate the soprano saxophone, Kirk and Byard trade fours on some odd open-D modal theme before shifting into the music of Bechet's time and coming out on tenor with direct quotes from the Don Byas book, with Byard and Davis turning around on a blues motif as Jones double times with a sheet of rim shots. Through the rest, the set moves consistently more outside, with Kirk flipping instruments and Jones and Davis turning the rhythmic patterns around on Byard, who takes it all in stride and shifts the harmonic levels to Kirk's intensity on the title track and "Mystical Dream." The set ends with the bluesy, somnambulant groove of "Slippery, Hippery, and Flippery." There's a paranoid opening with Jones running all over the kit, Byard slipping up and down the board, and Kirk making siren sounds before entering his bluesy post-bop nightmare of a jam that winds itself out over studio distortion, Kirk's noises, and a killer tenor solo that caps everything on the album. Positively smashing.
Sonny Rollins Quartet - Tenor Madness
At a time when he was a member of the legendary Clifford Brown/Max Roach sextet, Sonny Rollins was still the apple fallen not too far from the tree of Miles Davis. Tenor Madness was the recording that, once and for all, established Newk as one of the premier tenor saxophonists, an accolade that in retrospect, has continued through six full decades and gives an indication why a young Rollins was so well liked, as his fluency, whimsical nature, and solid construct of melodies and solos gave him the title of the next Coleman Hawkins or Lester Young of mainstream jazz. With the team of pianist Red Garland, bassist Paul Chambers, and drummer Philly Joe Jones, staples of that era's Miles Davis combos, Rollins has all the rhythmic ammunition to cut loose, be free, and extrapolate on themes as only he could, and still can. This is most evident on his version of "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World," started in its normal choppy waltz time, followed by a sax/drums prelude, a drum solo from Jones, and steamed from there on in, a hot 4/4 romp. Garland is particularly outstanding for keeping up the pace, depth and placement on this one. A bluesy version of "When Your Lover Has Gone," again enlivened by Jones, and the legendary title track with Rollins and John Coltrane trading long solos, and fours with Jones, are tunes that in the mid-'50s defined the parlance "blowing session." "Paul's Pal," in tribute to Chambers, has become a standard in its own right with a bright, memorable melody showing the good humor of Rollins, especially on the second time through, while the saxophonist's ability to sing vocal like tones through his horn is no better evinced as during the light ballad "My Reverie." A recording that should stand proudly alongside Saxophone Colossus as some of the best work of Sonny Rollins in his early years, it's also a testament to the validity, vibrancy, and depth of modern jazz in the post-World War era. It belongs on everybody's shelf.
¡¡ Feliz Navidad a todos !!
Simplemente desearos a todos los que con vuestras visitas habéis hecho que este blog vaya creciendo poco a poco una muy feliz navidad. Saludar en especial a a aquellos que publicáis vuestros comentarios porque te confirman que hay alguien que te escucha: yeshedorje, J. Javier Fraiz, el_kirk_, lumpenproletariat, josé maría Aguilar, Graciela, txerrena, etc... Saludos también a aquellos que visitan este blog de destinos tan variados del mundo como Villeneuve-loubet (Francia), Buenos Aires (Argentina), Avila (España), Voorschoten (Holanda), Tegucigalpa (Honduras), Mexico DF (Mexico), Concepción (Chile), Neiva (Colombia), Jelenia Góra (Polonia), Saint Petersburg (Rusia), Udine (Italia), Tel Aviv-yafo (Israel), Chiba (Japon), Cedar Rapids (USA), Porto (Portugal), Richmond (Canada), Guayaquil (Ecuador), Lima (Peru), London (UK), Suzano (Brasil), Prague (Rep. Checa), Rabat (Marruecos), Karlsruhe (Alemania), Maracaibo (Venezuela)...
Este Martini va por todos vosotros
¡¡ Feliz Navidad !!
Joe Henderson - Page One
Tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson's debut as a leader is a particularly strong and historic effort. The title "Page One" is fitting for this disc as it marks the beginning of the first chapter in the long career of tenor man Joe Henderson. And what a beginning it is; no less than Kenny Dorham, McCoy Tyner, Butch Warren, and Pete La Roca join the saxophonist for a stunning set that includes "Blue Bossa" and "Recorda Me," two works that would be forever associated with Henderson. Both are bossa novas that offer a hip alternative to the easy-listening Brazilian trend that would become popular with the masses. Henderson and Dorham make an ideal pair on these and other choice cuts like the blistering "Homestretch" and the engaging swinger "Jinrikisha." These both show the already mature compositional prowess that would become Henderson's trademark throughout his legendary career. The final blues number, "Out of the Night," features powerful work by the leader that only hints of things to come in subsequent chapters. It's highly recommended.
The Best of Gerry Mulligan Quartet with Chet Baker
For many people, the 1952-1957 incarnation of the Gerry Mulligan Quartet that featured trumpeter Chet Baker alongside Mulligan's baritone sax is the group that defines not only Mulligan's career, but almost the entirety of West Coast "cool" jazz (barring, perhaps, the equally seismic partnership of Dave Brubeck and Paul Desmond). The 1991 anthology “The Best of Gerry Mulligan Quartet with Chet Baker” is an admirably concise 10-track distillation of the five-year partnership between the two. Although Mulligan would go on to a varied (and rarely less than fascinating) career that lasted for decades, many fans of the mercurial Baker agree that the trumpeter never played better than he did with Mulligan on classic sides like "Soft Shoe." The set also includes versions of "Jeru" and "Darn That Dream," songs better associated with Mulligan's earlier work with Miles Davis on the “Birth of the Cool” sessions, and a live instrumental version of "My Funny Valentine," which would later go on to become Baker's signature vocal tune.
Dave Holland Quartet - Conference of the Birds
Dave Holland's debut as a leader, Conference of the Birds, doesn't seem to get its proper due outside of avant-garde circles; perhaps, when discussing the greats, Holland's name simply doesn't spring to mind as immediately. Whatever the case, Conference of the Birds is one of the all-time avant-garde jazz classics, incorporating a wide spectrum of '60s innovations. Part of the reason it works so well is the one-time-only team-up of two avant-garde legends: the fiery, passionate Sam Rivers and the cerebral Anthony Braxton; they complement and contrast one another in energizing fashion throughout. But much credit is due to Holland; make no mistake, even though he throws the spotlight to Rivers and Braxton, this is his date. The repertoire consists entirely of Holland originals, and his work here established him as easily the most advanced bassist/composer since Charles Mingus. His compositions show an impressive range: twisting, unpredictable themes accompanied by storming solos (the classic "Four Winds," "Interception"); free improvisation in group-dialogue form ("Q&A"); inside/outside avant-bop ("See Saw"); and surprisingly lovely, meditative flute showcases (the classic title track, "Now Here (Nowhere)"). No matter how free things get, Holland's pieces always set up logical frameworks with a clear-minded focus, which makes it easier to get a handle on the advanced musicianship of Holland's quartet (which also includes drummer Barry Altschul, who played in Chick Corea's Circle with Braxton and Holland). The absence of a piano frees up Rivers and Braxton to play off of one another, but the task of driving the ensemble then falls to Holland, and his prominent, muscular lines manage to really push his front line all by themselves. This album is a basic requirement for any avant-garde jazz collection, and it's also one of the most varied and accessible introductions to the style one could hope for.
Diana Krall - Love Scenes
On Love Scenes, Diana Krall utilizes the same trio format she used on her critically acclaimed All for You. And it's easy to understand why: the simple instrumentation--Krall plus guitarist Russell Malone and bassist Chrisian McBride--is the perfect setting for her sultry voice and relaxed piano playing. She offers 12 delightful interpretations of well-chosen, romance-related standards. The three musicians have a wonderful rapport (both Malone and McBride have played on previous Krall albums), and each tune exhibits an easy, effortless swing. Krall' s piano playing is sensitive and lyrical on the ballads, and right in the groove on the uptempo numbers. Malone's full, rich tone blends perfectly with Krall's piano accompaniment, and McBride's formidable bass playing punctuates the trio's every nuance on this drumless date. She is at her best on "I Don't Know Enough About You," "I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance With You," and "How Deep Is the Ocean." However, Krall's earlier Nat King Cole tribute had more variety in tempos and moods and is recommended first. The album was nominated for a 1998 Grammy Award for Best Jazz Vocal Performance.
Thelonious Monk Septet - Monk's Music
Monk's Music is often cited as one of the focal points of Thelonious Monk's six-year affiliation (1955-1961) with the Riverside label. Although the original disc clocked in at slightly over 30 minutes, packed into that half hour are not only the introduction of a few of Monk's signature compositions, but also some amazing interactions from the assembled ensemble. Joining Thelonious Monk (piano) during these two recording sessions are Ray Copeland (trumpet), Gigi Gryce (alto sax), Coleman Hawkins (tenor sax), John Coltrane (tenor sax), Wilbur Ware (bass), and Art Blakey (drums). The true meaning of the album's title exists beyond just Thelonious, as the opening sacred prelude, "Abide With Me," was written by William H. Monk. This brief piece features only the horn quartet, foreshadowing their importance throughout the album. The angular stride style featured during the chorus of "Well You Needn't" is tackled with the same nimble authority as Monk's completely unfettered solos. If his ability to swing and his utilization of atomic clock accuracy have ever been questioned, the answer lies no further. So utterly free and fantastic, certain passages command immediate review to be fully comprehended. Hearing Coltrane and Hawkins together is admittedly part of the charm in these sides. "Ruby, My Dear" is bathed in the smoky essence of Hawkins' rich textures and Coltrane's playful cat-and-mouse aggression. Blakey gently propels the rhythm, never getting in the way and sporting a serene snare groove throughout. "Off Minor" is largely led by Monk, with solos that follow into and out of the memorable chorus that sparkles with the full involvement of the horn and rhythm sections. The same is true for this definitive version of "Epistrophy" -- perhaps the zenith collaborative effort between Coltrane and Monk. Additionally, Blakey is in top form, with a solo that borders on spastic precision.
John Scofield - A Go Go
John Scofield owes a great deal to Medeski, Martin & Wood for the success of A Go Go. The piano/organ, bass, and drum playing trio adds a world of bouncing vibes to Scofield's inquisitive, happy guitar work here. A Go Go is an album of mostly breezy, sometimes tense, jam-based grooves. The album's charm is in its "city meets the tropics" feel. The four players create such a warm, vibrant sound that resisting the urge to tap one's feet along with the beat becomes a near impossibility. The opening song is a treat of plucked guitars and tightly packed new jazz. Other standouts are "Kubrick," a swooning, gentle change of pace packed with background tension, and "Hottentot," a tour de force of dynamic interplay. There's nary a moment of filler to be found across the ten tracks. It's clear that Scofield enjoyed the collaboration, as his guitars seem to nearly speak joy. His alternately jangling and plucking style sees him weaving in and out of the young trio's sound net with ample confidence. As fun as A Go Go is, it's just as well-sequenced, as Scofield and company vary their pace and tone expertly throughout the album's running time. A Go Go is far more than four cool cats jamming together and enjoying each other's company. It's an immensely entertaining, enlightening ride.
Miles Davis - In a Silent Way
Listening to Miles Davis' originally released version of In a Silent Way in light of the complete sessions released by Sony in 2001 (Columbia Legacy 65362) reveals just how strategic and dramatic a studio construction it was. If one listens to Joe Zawinul's original version of "In a Silent Way," it comes across as almost a folk song with a very pronounced melody. The version Miles Davis and Teo Macero assembled from the recording session in July of 1968 is anything but. There is no melody, not even a melodic frame. There are only vamps and solos, grooves layered on top of other grooves spiraling toward space but ending in silence. But even these don't begin until almost ten minutes into the piece. It's Miles and McLaughlin, sparely breathing and wending their way through a series of seemingly disconnected phrases until the groove monster kicks in. The solos are extended, digging deep into the heart of the ethereal groove, which was dark, smoky, and ashen. McLaughlin and Hancock are particularly brilliant, but Corea's solo on the Fender Rhodes is one of his most articulate and spiraling on the instrument ever. The A-side of the album, "Shhh/Peaceful," is even more so. With Tony Williams shimmering away on the cymbals in double time, Miles comes out slippery and slowly, playing over the top of the vamp, playing ostinato and moving off into more mysterious territory a moment at a time. With Zawinul's organ in the background offering the occasional swell of darkness and dimension, Miles could continue indefinitely. But McLaughlin is hovering, easing in, moving up against the organ and the trills by Hancock and Corea; Wayne Shorter hesitantly winds in and out of the mix on his soprano, filling space until it's his turn to solo. But John McLaughlin, playing solos and fills throughout (the piece is like one long dreamy solo for the guitarist), is what gives it its open quality, like a piece of music with no borders as he turns in and through the commingling keyboards as Holland paces everything along. When the first round of solos ends, Zawinul and McLaughlin and Williams usher it back in with painterly decoration and illumination from Corea and Hancock. Miles picks up on another riff created by Corea and slips in to bring back the ostinato "theme" of the work. He plays glissando right near the very end, which is the only place where the band swells and the tune moves above a whisper before Zawinul's organ fades it into silence. This disc holds up, and perhaps is even stronger because of the issue of the complete sessions. It is, along with Jack Johnson and Bitches Brew, a signature Miles Davis session from the electric era.
