tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-201153282024-03-15T21:10:30.904-04:00SOUND INSIGHTSDouglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.comBlogger465125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-1383767676226291552023-11-23T09:35:00.000-05:002023-11-23T09:35:50.715-05:00Paul Desmond featuring Gabor Szabo – “Skylark” at 50<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijlF87Wvg7q3I6fRWlYZ2mcqn3lg1pNLscWGmuSVHVezsH6QYZpp7hzlw-7IILEYLcpF9uRfHBOPApKlRyl2eiwpwn_e49O_thee0ryVyDIL5Js0brTGzt_E0NDE3B4xvXiCFs0VeM22rPqbesA0vIaaqSLOo4gZSCycbpkOPCZlMugk3tU2lY/s599/skylark1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="597" data-original-width="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijlF87Wvg7q3I6fRWlYZ2mcqn3lg1pNLscWGmuSVHVezsH6QYZpp7hzlw-7IILEYLcpF9uRfHBOPApKlRyl2eiwpwn_e49O_thee0ryVyDIL5Js0brTGzt_E0NDE3B4xvXiCFs0VeM22rPqbesA0vIaaqSLOo4gZSCycbpkOPCZlMugk3tU2lY/s400/skylark1.jpg"/></a></div><p><b><center>I.</center></b>
<p>Alto saxophonist Paul Desmond (1924-77) is best remembered as the linchpin of the Dave Brubeck Quartet from 1951 to 1967. During that period, Desmond recorded several piano-less albums of his own with Gerry Mulligan and others, most notably, with guitarist Jim Hall. And, lest one forgets, Desmond provided the Brubeck quartet with its signature hit, “Take Five” – released in 1959, but which, surprisingly, did not catch on until 1961.
<p>Once freed from Brubeck, however, the distinctive Desmond was wooed by producer Creed Taylor to record two superb albums for the A&M/CTI label. After recording his final A&M album, the Don Sebesky-produced <i>Bridge Over Troubled Water</i>, in 1970, the lazy Desmond largely receded from the music scene.
<p>Not much of a club-date player, Desmond would reunite with Brubeck in 1972 for the Two Generations of Brubeck, playing the festival circuit on the East Coast as well as those in Europe, Australia and Japan.
<p>By this time, producer Creed Taylor’s now independent CTI label had become the most artistically and commercially successful of all jazz labels. Taylor invited the ever-skittish Desmond back to the fold, where he initially made guest appearances on such CTI recordings as Jackie & Roy’s “Summer Song/Summertime” from <i>Time & Love</i> (1972) and Don Sebesky’s “Song to a Seagull” and “Vocalise” from <i>Giant Box</i> (1973).
<p>The CTI roster also now included the Hungarian guitarist Gabor Szabo (1936-82), who had previously put out a spate of well-regarded records on the Impulse, Skye and Blue Thumb labels. Taylor had already issued Szabo’s CTI debut, <i>Mizrab</i>, in April 1973, while the guitarist recorded his CTI follow-up, <i>Rambler</i> in September of that year.
<p>In an audacious bit of casting, producer Creed Taylor paired these two individualists – seemingly one’s oil to the other’s water – for <i>Skylark</i>, an album that shouldn’t work…but does. Tremendously well, in fact. It’s one of those things that sounds crazy in the telling but, in all due credit to the producer, is surprisingly magnificent to hear.
<p>Taylor could have chosen – or overdubbed – a guitarist like CTI All Star George Benson or even Jim Hall, who would also come to CTI in the following months. Both are “prettier” guitarists, seemingly suitable to Desmond’s milieu. But if Taylor (who did not drink) was mixing a cocktail, this is a Long Island Iced Tea: it goes down easy, but it’s stronger than one might guess or assume.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLziLshlVGo7BS6My9eR-sTcYzdfMfB5BBjaTXz5M8PkFiUCeVjAVZYYJ9Ip9jdhqhgAN0pKPmI1N6Fb2GfMUaz_9eGJo1desLSUxsB7Cboezz0nNMei20q46xqr2iODq6LaNhDphyfpKwphD0kQMgyix3xn_JBECAg7PHoSBylo2i6ShkS36-/s507/skylark2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLziLshlVGo7BS6My9eR-sTcYzdfMfB5BBjaTXz5M8PkFiUCeVjAVZYYJ9Ip9jdhqhgAN0pKPmI1N6Fb2GfMUaz_9eGJo1desLSUxsB7Cboezz0nNMei20q46xqr2iODq6LaNhDphyfpKwphD0kQMgyix3xn_JBECAg7PHoSBylo2i6ShkS36-/s400/skylark2.jpg"/><figcaption>Paul Desmond, photographed by Armen Kachaturian</figcaption></a></div><p><b><center>II.</center></b>
<p>Recorded over three dates in late November (with Gabor Szabo) and early December (without Szabo) 1973, <i>Skylark</i> introduces Paul Desmond to the seventies-era “CTI sound” and formula. There’s an original, a pop tune, a standard and not one but two jazzed-up classical pieces.
<p>Desmond is backed by a small group of CTI All Stars including Bob James on keyboards, Ron Carter (who appeared on Desmond’s previous A&M albums) on bass and Jack DeJohnette – in the next-to-last of his CTI recordings – on drums.
<p>Added to the mix are the backgrounded guitarist Gene Bertoncini, Ralph MacDonald on percussion (“Was a Sunny Day” only) and George Ricci on cello (“Music for a While” only). CTI’s in-house arranger, Don Sebesky, who had provided the larger frameworks for Desmond’s previous A&M albums, provides minimal but beautifully consequential direction here.
<p>Although Gabor Szabo gets featured billing on <i>Skylark</i>’s cover, the guitarist appears on only two of the original LP’s five songs: “Take Ten” and “Romance de Amor.” (Szabo returns, however, for bonus tracks issued decades later on CD.) The great Gene Bertoncini (b. 1937), on the other hand, appears throughout – but hardly ever in a solo capacity.
<p>If this seems odd, it’s worth remembering Creed Taylor’s first recording with Szabo – Gary McFarland’s 1965 album <i>The In Sound</i> (Verve) – also paired the Hungarian guitarist with a second guitar: no less than the great Kenny Burrell, who, at that time, was much better known and, himself, a particularly well-documented soloist.
<p>Perhaps Taylor felt that, while Szabo may have been a strong and compelling soloist, he was not necessarily the ideal accompanist or rhythm guitarist for a session – particularly for someone of Paul Desmond’s disposition or demeanor. Szabo himself likely picked up on Taylor’s insight on <i>The In Sound</i> as he recruited guitarist Jimmy Stewart to join his own memorable quintet, which unfortunately only lasted from 1967 to 1969.
<p>Suffice it to say, the two guitarists work (or, more accurately, are recorded) superbly well together on <i>Skylark</i>. But, more important, there is an unexpected kismet in Desmond’s sweet and Szabo’s sour, a mix that makes <i>Skylark</i> a highlight in both the saxophonist’s and especially the guitarist’s discographies.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtupGkGX3iCuCEJ5DaICe8b9SjE7fZCjMzVOrzM0TFpX5PnJvJdfgbnp0cw-3cPd_Ot3DrHTwnPhnIyNsXyVInfFslNBxP1UIEw64Co5CjqZX1iXCaoMvyzlEM6HFHVdUMWKfb7PVtEDTUinZE28N1WeQyhLNWcCsbLWmd5Rhnd00u2Y7XKL_n/s500/skylark_szabo.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtupGkGX3iCuCEJ5DaICe8b9SjE7fZCjMzVOrzM0TFpX5PnJvJdfgbnp0cw-3cPd_Ot3DrHTwnPhnIyNsXyVInfFslNBxP1UIEw64Co5CjqZX1iXCaoMvyzlEM6HFHVdUMWKfb7PVtEDTUinZE28N1WeQyhLNWcCsbLWmd5Rhnd00u2Y7XKL_n/s400/skylark_szabo.jpg"/><figcaption>Gabor Szabo</figcaption></a></div><p><b><center>III.</center></b>
<p><i>Skylark</i> opens with what is probably Paul Desmond’s second-best-known composition of all time. Like the enduring Dave Brubeck Quartet hit “Take Five,” its sequel, “Take Ten,” is also written in 5/4 time, or, more to the point here, 10/8 time. Desmond originally wrote and recorded “Take Ten” for his 1963 solo album of the same name in a superb quartet performance featuring Jim Hall on guitar.
<p>Here, “Take Ten” is delivered by the core quintet – and, to these ears – in a darker, more deeply considered performance (Bertonicini seems to sit this one out). Szabo provides the rhythm support, aided in no small measure by Bob James’ Fender Rhodes. Desmond solos as mellifluously as ever while Szabo takes a hypnotic solo that recalls his spellbinding glory days.
<p>Following the intoxicating opener, the nine-plus-minute “Romance de Amor” makes for the album’s most compelling highlight. It is an unusual choice, but a superb one. It also spotlights the best work the group and its individuals offer on the record.
<p>”Romance de Amor” is believed to have been written for solo guitar in the late 19th century. The Spanish or South American piece is considered “Traditional” as its origins have long been in dispute.
<p>The three-part structure of the song is superbly and subtly arranged by Don Sebesky as follows: 1 = Gene Bertoncini plays the Spanish section on solo guitar. The line is repeated by Gabor Szabo with Bertoncini, Ron Carter on bass and raga-like percussion (00:00 to 00:57). 2 = Paul Desmond with rhythm section in a bossa mode (000:58 to 01:23). 3 = Sebesky omits the original theme’s third part for a more dramatic raga-like structure that Desmond beautifully improvises over (01:24 to 02:29).
<p>Desmond continues to improvise over changes to sections 2 and 3 (02:29 to 03:20) – while Szabo strikes several notes around the 02:55 mark. Szabo solos hypnotically over a vamp that riffs off a minor chord stoked by Carter’s bass with occasional keyboard and drum swells (03:21 to 05:48).
<p>Bob James takes a laid-back solo with Carter on bass and DeJohnette supporting on an intuitive heartbeat bass drum. This eventually leads to sparring with Szabo on guitar (05:48 to 08:08). Desmond returns to riff off section 2 until the group closes out the tune by returning to the first section. It is a marvelous and memorable performance.
<p>Once upon a time, this listener would let the first side of this record play through to the end, then pick up the needle and play it all over again. For hours. Whatever one may assume about the Desmond-Szabo pairing is instantly dispelled by the simpatico aural chemistry they make over these two songs. Desmond shines in this electric context, while, for Szabo, these pieces (coupled with the first side of his own CTI album <i>Mizrab</i>) represent the very best of the guitarist’s work in the seventies.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSLfKmVhyI_HXUPudO1H0maKaEUy-ovyw2nTAN5xI8dSVAYf2igBJ1pvaWbb10YWGR0_sD7KdmKcHzz31g3XoqvTZQZ7Jrp0-WOK4m2vTeVvI0nubCaLQyGW9rbkxhGkTaXZwMN235PQXaRQDD1FHMe1nTaojom8PwNVF0UEeCpbLDwVTf_Yn/s600/skylark3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSLfKmVhyI_HXUPudO1H0maKaEUy-ovyw2nTAN5xI8dSVAYf2igBJ1pvaWbb10YWGR0_sD7KdmKcHzz31g3XoqvTZQZ7Jrp0-WOK4m2vTeVvI0nubCaLQyGW9rbkxhGkTaXZwMN235PQXaRQDD1FHMe1nTaojom8PwNVF0UEeCpbLDwVTf_Yn/s400/skylark3.jpg"/><figcaption>The 1988 CD release of <i>Skylark</i>.</figcaption></a></div><p><b><center>IV.</center></b>
<p>Flipping the original record over, however, was always a bit of a jolt. There is a sense as though this side comes from another album altogether. Or, at least another recording session – which it pretty much was.
<p>First of all, despite his co-star billing, Szabo is gone. It’s difficult to say why: bonus tracks to a CD version of <i>Skylark</i> released years later reveal the guitarist recorded perfectly fine takes of at least two of the album’s three remaining tracks. But…
<p>It was likely the sort of thing that soured Szabo on CTI (in a <i>DownBeat</i> Blindfold Test the guitarist later slyly referred to Creed Taylor as “my current landlord”). But given Taylor’s sensibilities, the producer may have struggled a bit more than usual with what to do with – or for – the guitarist, particularly as a sideman or in this Desmond situation.
<p>Side two opens with a breezy bossa take of Paul Simon’s Jamaican-lite “Was a Sunny Day.” The Simon original featured fellow CTI recording artist Airto (Moriera) – who appeared on the earlier Desmond albums <i>Summertime</i> and <i>From the Hot Afternoon</i>, but, for whatever reason, is not heard here.
<p>The song originally factored on Simon’s 1973 album <i>There Goes Rhymin’ Simon</i>, an album that also featured the original version of “Take Me to the Mardi Gras,” which Bob James would, of course, turn into a sample classic on his 1975 CTI album <i>Bob James Two</i>.
<p>In another unique programming choice, <i>Skylark</i> takes up “Music for a While” by the English Baroque composer Henry Purcell (1659–95). Originally scored for soprano (voice), harpsicord and bass viol, “Music for a While” is the second of four movements originally written as incidental music for John Dryden’s play based on the story of Sophocles’ <i>Oedipus</i>.
<p>But a second classical theme on one jazz album was maybe a bridge too far – and likely sabotages the saxophonist, however beautifully he navigates this sea’s particular chop.
<p>”Music for a While” opens with a dreamy, echo-y Fender Rhodes trill (similar to the one James used for Eric Gale’s “Forecast” earlier that year) that leads into the main melody. George Ricci – picking up the part originally intended for Szabo – is brought in on cello to do a lovely pas de deux with Desmond’s alto. Sebesky sets the song in a typical Spanish mode before lurching into the delightful changes of “Django.” It’s a lovely performance, but – rather oddly – mostly unmemorable.
<p>Surprisingly, Desmond had not previously recorded Hoagy Carmichael’s “Skylark.” Even more remarkably, Dave Brubeck – in or out of the original quartet – never recorded “Skylark” either.
<p>Here, “Skylark” opens as a duet between Desmond and Gene Bertoncini before yielding to the quartet with Carter and DeJohnette. In the original album version, Bob James comes in for a pretty but seemingly tentative-sounding piano solo (perhaps Dave Brubeck was whispering in his ear). The piano solo heard here supplants a perfectly wonderful Jim Hall-esque solo delivered by Bertoncini on the “Skylark (alt take),” first released in 1997.
<p>There was likely a version of “Skylark” recorded that featured Gabor Szabo instead of the prettier and less rough-hewn-sounding Bertoncini. But, if so, it has not yet been heard. “Skylark” seems just the sort of thing Szabo would have gravitated toward, yet it never factored in his own repertoire. If, indeed, Szabo recorded the tune here, he was no doubt insulted by the slight this <i>Skylark</i> delivered.
<p>Sebesky would go on to arrange “Skylark” again for CTI albums by Roland Hanna (1982) and Jim Hall (1992). He also arranged a version of “Skylark” for a 1980 album by Italian flugelhorn player Franco Ambrosetti that featured <i>Skylark</i> bassist Ron Carter.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK6Xe7mqG-ERXvyYJvlDXRkz2d8jA6IIitj8Cw3LHf1PIvIWmukOC4Kcj_9IKa9mzduuDU7RNl6OiMh2GgYnWiFTiMZVjnjBnBpkS7ti3RheP7FdyokcrlmrkaX0v10MgwpB4pfq5rRiQgqvlqW6Y1p0MqS4LbkuywRN1zxIqVSAZ9arQulAT/s600/skylark4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="524" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK6Xe7mqG-ERXvyYJvlDXRkz2d8jA6IIitj8Cw3LHf1PIvIWmukOC4Kcj_9IKa9mzduuDU7RNl6OiMh2GgYnWiFTiMZVjnjBnBpkS7ti3RheP7FdyokcrlmrkaX0v10MgwpB4pfq5rRiQgqvlqW6Y1p0MqS4LbkuywRN1zxIqVSAZ9arQulAT/s400/skylark4.jpg"/><figcaption>The 1997 CD release of <i>Skylark</i>.</figcaption></a></div><p><b><center>V.</center></b>
<p><i>Skylark</i> was released in May 1974 to generally favorable reviews that mostly commented on the distinctive alto saxophonist’s tone. To wit:
<p>“The altoist works in a coolly relaxed environment, almost icy but nonetheless in a constant state of fluid motion” (<i>Billboard</i>). “His feathery tone is unmistakable. Light and airy and filled with personal style, especially ‘Was A Sunny Day’" (<i>Walrus</i>). “Desmond is an outstanding player whose work is more soothing than it is vital…[with] an excellent rhythm section playing a variety of material, mostly of the dreamy kind” (<i>Asbury Park Sunday Press</i>).
<p><i>DownBeat</i>’s Charles Mitchell awarded the album five stars in the music magazine’s July 18, 1974, issue (the same issue that gave Szabo’s own CTI album <i>Rambler</i> a mere two and a half stars): “What a beauty! The only imperfect thing about this LP is that it is far too short. But don’t let that fact deter you from experiencing the poetry of Desmond and Co. – if the album was half as long, it’d still be worth it.” The incisive review also notes:
<p>"The teaming of Desmond and Gabor Szabo is a natural. Both have a subdued, liquid quality to their styles, which complement each other frighteningly well. Both solo with lyrical fire at low levels of volume, and both choose their notes elegantly and judiciously. Add a gracefully introspective pianist, a quality ‘second’ guitarist, and one of the three best bassists in jazz and the result is music uncluttered, complete in itself, and soulfully beautiful."
<p>In this writer’s opinion, <i>Skylark</i> - in full or in part – is an artistic success that is nicely crafted by producer Creed Taylor and even more beautifully delivered by the musicians and soloists who made this possible. But, in the end, the album likely appealed only to fans of the saxophonist or the guitarist. (I was not able to verify how well the album performed.)
<p>Fans of Desmond (and possibly Desmond himself) may not have been so accepting of Szabo, despite however magical their brief communion may have been. <i>Skylark</i> is, however, surely one of the best of the few records the Hungarian guitarist ever worked on as a sideman. The <i>DownBeat</i> review aptly concludes:
<p>"<i>Skylark</i> happens to suit any mood you’re in, because it goes far beyond simple mood music, a label often slapped on both Desmond and Szabo in the past. By now we should be hip to the fact that intense doesn’t necessarily equal loud; but it’s hard for us to remember that in these days of Mahavishnu and Cobham. We need albums like <i>Skylark</i> to remind us."
<p><i>Skylark</i> was first issued on CD in 1988 with a “bonus track” recording of Victor Herbert and Al Dubin’s “Indian Summer” that had not appeared on the original LP. The piece is a quartet feature for Desmond with Gene Bertoncini (very much in Jim Hall mode), Ron Carter (who solos) and Jack DeJohnette. This warm, sunny waltz was probably recorded at the December session – and likely left off the original album because it calls attention to Szabo’s absence.
<p>The slightly longer “alternate take” of “Indian Summer” – first issued as a “bonus track” on the 1997 CD release of <i>Skylark</i> - was, however, no doubt recorded <i>first</i>, as it features Gabor Szabo (who does not solo) supporting Desmond rather than Bertoncini. It is perfectly serviceable, particularly showcasing Szabo’s finesse as a fine accompaniment. It’s therefore a riddle as to how or why it was kept off the original release.
<p>Like “Indian Summer (alt take),” the “alternate take” of “Music for a While” is also a quartet piece with Szabo in for Bertoncini. Again, Szabo doesn’t solo here. But the song’s first appearance came not on the 1988 CD release of <i>Skylark</i> but rather on the 1988 compilation CD <i>Classics in Jazz</i>. “Music for a While (alt take)” finally appeared on the 1997 CD release of <i>Skylark</i> - which was reissued as is in 2003 – and, to this day, remains the most comprehensive version of <i>Skylark</i> available to date.
<p>Paul Desmond would record one more album for CTI – the straight quartet of <i>Pure Desmond</i> (1974), also with Ron Carter – while reuniting with Jim Hall for the guitarist’s landmark CTI debut <i>Concierto</i> (1975 – also arranged by Don Sebesky). The alto saxophonist died shortly thereafter of lung cancer on May 30, 1977. He was only 52 years old.
<p>Likewise, Gabor Szabo recorded only one more record for the CTI subsidiary label Salvation, <i>Macho</i> (1975), which was produced and arranged by Bob James (the last of their collaborations together). After several more records on other labels, the guitarist died of liver and kidney failure in his native Hungary on February 26, 1982. He was only 45 years old.
<p>Fortunately, as of this writing, Bob James, Ron Carter, Jack DeJohnette and Gene Bertoncini are all still with us and, happily, still working.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvFJaFPBIRFKHHokGccKVp345hJuESok0whwvEdOU9_djrY4mMFvdcI66yUgtcoou5qLNy9NlBuBTlx3tMXMSc-SQsLUtM86j1ql1qU5B-nQGDUFy_kN7XSyNzXveBku-T_bgAxa3b1zfsbCFk9ZbJ1KwpnSwfzSijBiHglySYyDCJRyY7IQqW/s432/skylark6.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="233" data-original-width="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvFJaFPBIRFKHHokGccKVp345hJuESok0whwvEdOU9_djrY4mMFvdcI66yUgtcoou5qLNy9NlBuBTlx3tMXMSc-SQsLUtM86j1ql1qU5B-nQGDUFy_kN7XSyNzXveBku-T_bgAxa3b1zfsbCFk9ZbJ1KwpnSwfzSijBiHglySYyDCJRyY7IQqW/s400/skylark6.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>About the Cover:</b> The arresting photograph on the cover of <i>Skylark</i> is so striking and unusual that it almost seems like an illustration – or, an illusion or a dream image. Its Zen quality suggests a flower made of hearts beating out waves of light.
<p>The 1974 photograph, titled “Flower in Water,” is by the renowned photographer Pete Turner (1934-2017), the artist behind many of CTI’s iconic covers – notably the ironic icicles cover of Desmond’s 1969 album <i>Summertime</i>. Although the premise, noted in the photo’s title, is simple, the execution was a bit more of an experiment for the photographer than is widely known:
<p>“I saw this flower floating in a man-made pool outdoors,” said Turner in his 2006 book <i>The Color of Jazz</i>, “and the sunlight was creating highlights on the water, like musical notes. A slow shutter speed can blur the image, but it can also blur the highlights while the black background stays the same. So I tried different shutter speeds and all the factors played in, like the wind, the movement of the flower, and the mystery of not knowing what it would look like till the film came back.”
<p>The sense here is that “Flower in Water” taps nicely into Johnny Mercer’s lyric to “Skylark.” Certainly, the flower and its waves of light would appeal to the songbird of the title. But the “flower in water” also alludes to “a meadow in the mist / Where someone’s waiting to be kissed.”
<p>Or, this: “a valley green with spring / Where my heart can go a-journeying.” Or, the wonderful verse that goes: ”And in your lonely flight / Haven’t you heard the music of the night? / Wonderful music, faint as the will o’ the wisp / Crazy as a loon / Sad as a gypsy serenading the moon.”
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-68317689372052358032023-10-28T17:00:00.000-04:002023-10-28T17:00:48.753-04:00John Scofield – “Uncle John’s Band” (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aRCZrp7SNmLbS4FCJIL_TW-JF2phSmZ654plxKduJ0b0SQ7Po8SRXdXEBhyIeyrB2P7l1naEeQvWA-qdHqj4oE3pdEeD9vodupBzviwMBTJ-XDarVPSzRjyRb0Nvs_q5HCFqrRDzhkiuMlmYe55VuyUOavs6nX-DTHwNINjsGIFhWLtnKblF/s1200/unclejohn.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aRCZrp7SNmLbS4FCJIL_TW-JF2phSmZ654plxKduJ0b0SQ7Po8SRXdXEBhyIeyrB2P7l1naEeQvWA-qdHqj4oE3pdEeD9vodupBzviwMBTJ-XDarVPSzRjyRb0Nvs_q5HCFqrRDzhkiuMlmYe55VuyUOavs6nX-DTHwNINjsGIFhWLtnKblF/s400/unclejohn.jpg"/></a></div><p>Seemingly more music is released today than ever before. But precious little of this bounty rates more than a listen or two. Or, much of a mention. This is especially true in today’s seemingly fragmented jazz market. The young lions keep trying to rebrand the music: thus far to little avail. Meanwhile the old cats keep trying to keep up.
<p>That’s why it’s notable when an album like guitarist John Scofield’s <i>Uncle John’s Band</i> comes along. This is a terrific record – and one that rates repeated listens. It’s familiar and exciting, like visiting with an old friend
<p>The 71-year-old Scofield has made scores of interesting and enjoyable records throughout the years. Some, like <i>Grace Under Pressure</i> (1992); <i>Hand Jive</i> and <i>I Can See Your House from Here</i> (both 1994); <i>Groove Elation!</i> (1995), <i>Quiet</i> (1996); and <i>A Go Go</i> (1998) stand out. Most are considered classics.
<p>So many others make for easy favorites, too; namely the Medeski Scofield Martin & Wood disc <i>Out Louder</i> (2007); the Gov’t Mule set <i>Sco-Mule</i> (2015); and the intoxicating brew that is DeJohnette / Grenadier / Medeski / Scofield’s <i>Hudson</i> (2017).
<p><i>Uncle John’s Band</i> is easily one of John Scofield’s very best discs. Mixing rock covers and jazz standards with Scofield’s clever and ever-incisive originals, this well-programed double-disc set breezes by without ever coasting or missing a beat. It holds one’s attention like too few discs these days do.
<p>Accompanying the guitarist here are bassist Vicente Archer (Robert Glasper, Nicholas Payton, Jeremy Pelt) and long-time aide-de-camp Bill Stewart on drums. (Curiously, the package’s spine and label refer to this as the “John Scofield Trio” while the CD cover credits only the guitarist.) This trio first waxed Scofield’s <i>Combo 66</i> for Verve in 2018 – an album I missed somehow.
<p>This is the guitarist’s third outing for ECM Records – and the affiliation seems to suit the now elder statesman of the guitar. His earliest gig with the German label goes all the way back to Marc Johnson’s seminal 1986 outing <i>Bass Desires</i> (although Scofield had earlier appeared on a 1982 album by Peter Warren for the ECM-distributed JAPO label). Scofield has since appeared on other ECM albums by Johnson, Jack DeJohnette, Gary Burton and frequent Scofield collaborator Steve Swallow.
<p>Scofield’s recent turn on ECM might recall another guitarist named John from Connecticut and fellow Berklee alum: John Abercrombie (1944-2017) recorded several dozen albums for ECM between 1975 and 2017. Interestingly, Scofield replaced Abercrombie in Billy Cobham’s band in 1975 and the two recorded the non-ECM album <i>Solar</i> together in 1984.
<p>Among Abercrombie’s most memorable ECM discs were those he made with Gateway between 1976 and 1996, a trio featuring bassist Dave Holland and drummer Jack DeJohnette.
<p>Like so many guitarists, Scofield shines brightest in a trio format – and this is an especially compelling trio of collaborators. Half of the set’s 14 tracks are Scofield originals. As ever, these are playful yet wistful, funky and folksy, yet welcoming and seemingly familiar. Here, though, Scofield’s signature turns of phrase breathe with an air of reflection, contemplation and, dare I suggest, a joie de vivre. This is a man who loves what he does.
<p>Highlights among the originals include the blueish “Mo Green” (a money pun, perhaps, on <i>The Godfather</i> character), the Sco-meets-Wes groover “Mask,” “How Deep,” and “TV Band” (featuring a puckish quote of The Monkees’ “Last Train to Clarksville” – get it?).
<p>The jazz standards are well selected, ranging from the familiar (“Stairway to the Stars” and “Somewhere”) to the too-little known (Miles Davis’ “Budo” and Dizzy Gillespie’s “Ray’s Idea” – while Scofield worked with both Davis and Gillespie, they likely never played these particular oldies).
<p>But it may well be the rock covers that stand out most here.
<p>Scofield opens the disc with a superb take on Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man.” He covers this one much like a sixties guitarist would, say Gabor Szabo circa 1967-68? (Surprisingly, Szabo never touched this one.) Scofield’s approach here nicely gives the twang of his guitar a sitar-like vibe.
<p>The guitarist also delivers an ironic but surprisingly hip take on Neil Young’s “Old Man” and closes out the set with the inspired choice of the Grateful Dead’s 1970 hit (their first) that gives this album its name. Scofield makes meaty jazz out of this folksy bit of bluegrass, imbuing it with the sort of Americana that fellow guitarist Bill Frisell has long traversed. Scofield owns this one, though.
<p>“Uncle John’s Band,” song and album, would make ideal fodder for a blindfold test. John Scofield is easily identified at every turn here – from his signature songs to the way he simply plays a tune (and it really is <i>playing</i>; there is never a sense of effort or obligation). <i>Uncle John’s Band</i> would even make the ordeal of wearing a blindfold seem joyful. Very highly recommended.
<p>(In another anomaly, the ECM website lists the recording date of <i>Uncle John’s Band</i> as August 2022, while my copy of the disc lists the date as August 2023 – an especially quick turnaround for an October 2023 release.)
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-15831724772692610872023-09-21T00:00:00.003-04:002023-09-21T00:00:00.143-04:00Gabor Szabo – “Rambler” at 50<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuP0rxuDavvR4TYOXKedgi4f4bHItzI_lIwPbBN-Uoctqa-ZJHuSezq-aOvzz4S2dB2TqpIo70zlNfiTnzAWZ0cFV3VlsuR_b6y7-paAi1aB3DWDB08zOK4yYOEnK1E406Hqvx30Y8QkKYVSsYWkfTNDiyOo46YUs-0dLpS_SwFUds5SN_v1s/s600/rambler1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuP0rxuDavvR4TYOXKedgi4f4bHItzI_lIwPbBN-Uoctqa-ZJHuSezq-aOvzz4S2dB2TqpIo70zlNfiTnzAWZ0cFV3VlsuR_b6y7-paAi1aB3DWDB08zOK4yYOEnK1E406Hqvx30Y8QkKYVSsYWkfTNDiyOo46YUs-0dLpS_SwFUds5SN_v1s/s400/rambler1.jpg"/></a></div><p><center><b>I.</b></center>
<p>Early in his career, guitarist Gabor Szabo (1936-82) had the incredibly good fortune to be signed to Impulse Records, one of the most significant American jazz labels of the sixties. That came about mainly because of the successful contributions the guitarist made to Chico Hamilton’s critically and commercially successful records on the label in the early sixties – and producer Bob Thiele’s early championing of the guitarist.
<p>The records waxed by Szabo on his own for Impulse, recorded between 1965 and 1967, were significant and remain among his best-known and some of the most important recordings of the guitarist’s ever-so brief career.
<p>By the next decade, though, Szabo again found himself at one of that era’s most important – and successful – jazz labels: producer Creed Taylor’s legendary CTI Records. (It is worth remembering that Impulse was also the brainchild of Creed Taylor, although the producer was long gone at Impulse by the time Szabo came along.)
<p>CTI made stars of arranger/keyboardists [Eumir] Deodato and Bob James, trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, saxophonists Grover Washington, Jr., Stanley Turrentine and Hank Crawford, guitarist George Benson and singer Esther Phillips. Creed Taylor’s label even helped revive the careers of such jazz greats as vibraphonist Milt Jackson, trumpeter Chet Baker and, notably, guitarist Jim Hall and saxophonist Paul Desmond.
<p>But, somehow, Gabor Szabo fell between the cracks at CTI. The guitarist recorded a mere three albums for the label between 1972 and 1975 and made a notable guest appearance on saxophonist Paul Desmond’s superb CTI outing <i>Skylark</i>.
<p>While Szabo’s CTI albums boast first-rate productions, high-class musicianship and some of the guitarist’s best studio work of the period, none made much of a dent in the musical psyche at the time, nor added anything of much significance to the guitarist’s legacy.
<p>Oddly, the second of these, <i>Rambler</i> (1974), probably had the least impact of all.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUdNfAg7vBHHx3i6vnE8AdF2zfYsg98hVem5PPNF_FMOdWfzIImqIysr0ExBLv7-cYfZgFo0p_0COZUW6KxiQXGYvQR6Qh669juXPI0mZjZcP1hcWdsxwOwiWcSz3anXFiB0fGddNZ_-qgwF1vwNIsnB6uQkyKL3C6jGpyrJ3iW01SDx3luEA/s300/rambler4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUdNfAg7vBHHx3i6vnE8AdF2zfYsg98hVem5PPNF_FMOdWfzIImqIysr0ExBLv7-cYfZgFo0p_0COZUW6KxiQXGYvQR6Qh669juXPI0mZjZcP1hcWdsxwOwiWcSz3anXFiB0fGddNZ_-qgwF1vwNIsnB6uQkyKL3C6jGpyrJ3iW01SDx3luEA/s400/rambler4.jpg"/><figcaption>Gabor Szabo, photographed by Charles Stewart.</a></div><p><center><b>II.</b></center>
<p>When Gabor Szabo arrived at CTI in the early seventies, the label was faring particularly well. There was every reason to believe producer Creed Taylor could reignite the spark that made the guitarist’s magical touch so alluring earlier in his career.
<p>It’s no secret that Gabor Szabo was floundering at this point in his career. After a brief run of unsuccessful records on the Blue Thumb label, the guitarist seemed to be struggling to find his place in a jazz world that CTI seemingly perfected.
<p>His first album for the label, <i>Mizrab</i>, is a prototypical “CTI album,” with long, original groovers and CTI’s top-tier in-house talent. The first side of that record – featuring the songs “Mizrab” and “Thirteen” – also remains among Szabo’s best-ever recordings. Unfortunately, the album failed to make the waves it deserved.
<p>For his CTI sequel, Gabor Szabo made a much more personal statement (recording with his own band at the time) but one that ironically feels much more anonymous. That is largely because Szabo turns the album over to his bass player, Wolfgang Melz, who wrote five of the album’s six songs.
<p>The overall effect is that Gabor Szabo sounds like a guest on his own album.
<p<i>Rambler</i> was recorded in September 1973, while the West Coast-dwelling Szabo was in the Big Apple for an appearance at Carnegie Hall. The album doesn’t specify dates (indicating overdubs and possible retakes, were necessary), but it is easy enough to guess that the bulk of the recording was done during the last week of the month.
<p>Szabo’s quartet played Carnegie Hall on Friday, September 21, 1973, headlining a “Three Guitars” program that also featured John Fahey and Laurindo Almedia: “three guitarists who don’t appear very often in New York.” As John Rockwell reported in the <i>New York Times</i>:
<indent>“Szabo, who closed the program, came from Hungary and played with such jazzmen as Chico Hamilton and Charles Lloyd. Friday he was using an electric guitar and working with an accomplished trio behind him. If the music they produced was a bit too smooth and derivative at times, at others it managed to work up to a good bit of virtuosity and excitement.” (September 24, 1973)</indent>
<p>Szabo also performed at Montclair High School in Montclair, New Jersey, on Friday, September 28 and Saturday, September 29, indicating that the bulk of this album was recorded between these two concert dates.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3SqCEf_o1-0H4o8wUyp5gdw2vkAQsEDK9aGlq_Vnx0Bi7WHT0AOSW4pLu83_yPUfoNfZrvXvpGISZE4qleT1Uoh2gBRItUjNXzNWJ7W4RKMrHqaIB2YsunkcdJROt4IHNxbsjdn453ER3Xjl-LNxv47DvzfRkvmS8zNJuAkyW6F--cIrFcsS/s720/wolf1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3SqCEf_o1-0H4o8wUyp5gdw2vkAQsEDK9aGlq_Vnx0Bi7WHT0AOSW4pLu83_yPUfoNfZrvXvpGISZE4qleT1Uoh2gBRItUjNXzNWJ7W4RKMrHqaIB2YsunkcdJROt4IHNxbsjdn453ER3Xjl-LNxv47DvzfRkvmS8zNJuAkyW6F--cIrFcsS/s400/wolf1.jpg"/><figcaption>Wolfgang Melz, ca. 1974.</figcaption></a></div><p><center><b>III.</b></center>
<p>Remarkably, producer Creed Taylor allowed Gabor Szabo to record with the band he brought from California for the Carnegie Hall performance: keyboardist Mike Wofford, drummer Bob Morin and electric bassist and composer Wolfgang Melz. CTI’s in-house arranger Bob James – who, at this writing, just issued his latest CD, <i>Jazz Hands</i> - is credited with “musical supervision” and overdubs several keyboards of his own (an uncredited percussionist, probably Ralph MacDonald, is evident throughout as well).
<p>Even more remarkably, Taylor allowed Szabo to hand off the album’s compositional duties to Melz. I have often wondered whether this was an act of defiance on Szabo’s part, similar to Miles Davis refusing to let Warner Bros. profit off the publication of his music. But Szabo retained the publishing rights of his own compositions on other CTI albums. Szabo was therefore either unprepared or unmotivated to provide originals for <i>Rambler</i>.
<p>Born in Germany in 1938, Wolfgang Melz came to the U.S. in the early sixties – playing, of all things, the banjo. Almost immediately, Melz was playing Dixieland with Teddy Buckner and flat-out country music with Buck Owens. He discovered electric bass almost by accident and became obsessed with it. The self-taught Melz had neither previously played upright bass nor ever tried to play it throughout the remainder of his career. But he distinguished himself on the electric instrument almost immediately.
<p>Melz got his professional start playing bass with jazz singer Anita O’Day and in the pop-rock group The Association. He quickly thereafter became a studio musician. Notably, of the few records he’s waxed, where he is actually named, most are all in the company of his studio friends.
<p>Shortly thereafter, Melz met Szabo through keyboardist Richard Thompson, who was part of The Association when Melz was part of that group. Melz and Szabo hit it off right away (Melz has always quipped that Szabo said they were “born in the same hometown, Europe!”) and the bassist joined Szabo’s group – as did Thompson and vibraphonist Lynn Blessing (on whose sole solo album, <i>Sunset Painter</i>, Melz appeared).
<p>Melz – known as “Wolfie” to friends and family – had previously written “Country Illusion” for Szabo’s 1970 album <i>Magical Connection</i> and would appear on the guitarist’s <i>High Contrast</i> (1971 – where he collaborated on that album’s dazzling “Fingers”) as well as Charles Lloyd’s terrifically underrated <i>Waves</i> (1972 – also with Szabo). The bassist appeared with Szabo (mainly on West Coast dates) for the next few years before retiring to Houston, Texas, where he still resides today.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrcTCI_ANvF2WdifTcvJZzHP1XFVcJeAcBfUeeXRoaagC0Av4mhybohnD8vbVcnpOQp_N1dgyKbXKjoDFoaiEbj1nN3X-fSfBk4yWIPB5i23qoDqCQ-6pm9k9-XQSzaA5ORyctWtLdmOtEZzSkqh8OMFyADEgC2HuUXIPhVeblznO-2I2rbQV/s600/mizrab3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="597" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrcTCI_ANvF2WdifTcvJZzHP1XFVcJeAcBfUeeXRoaagC0Av4mhybohnD8vbVcnpOQp_N1dgyKbXKjoDFoaiEbj1nN3X-fSfBk4yWIPB5i23qoDqCQ-6pm9k9-XQSzaA5ORyctWtLdmOtEZzSkqh8OMFyADEgC2HuUXIPhVeblznO-2I2rbQV/s400/mizrab3.jpg"/></a></div><p><center><b>IV.</b></center>
<p>”Rambler” had been in Szabo’s repertoire for several years by this point. The song, known then as “The Rambler,” was first recorded by Szabo in June 1970 as part of the <i>Magical Connection</i> sessions, but remains unreleased to this day. The song – more riff than melody, really – is an appealing bit of rock-funk that could have easily found favor in the Allman Brothers or even Three Dog Night.
<p>Here, in the first thirty seconds, the guitarist and the bassist spar beautifully. Their communion casts a spell that emboldens the song and launches Szabo into one of his most compelling solos on the record. It’s easy to hear what appealed to the guitarist in this rock-ish groove: he’s clearly having fun here. But not everyone was as captivated by the charm of this piece as I am:
<p>"Rambler," wrote critic Leonard Feather of a 1974 live performance of the tune, “[is] of no particular interest harmonically or structurally. Szabo, who at times has a tendency to extract an almost banjo-like tone from his guitar, didn't seem able to work up much concern for what he was doing—understandably, since the material itself [is] worthy only of a second-rate rock group.”
<p>“Rambler” was also covered by then-San Francisco-based drummer Dick McGarvin for a 1974 album called <i>Peaceful</i>. McGarvin, a veteran of Paul Revere and the Raiders, a disc jockey and – probably – the actor who appeared in such films as <i>Mommie Dearest</i> (1981) and <i>Diehard 2</i>, recorded his take on “Rambler” several months <i>before</i> Szabo’s version came out, likely indicating he either heard the Szabo group perform it (in San Francisco) – or possibly performed it himself with Szabo.
<p>The ballad “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye” is tailor-made for Szabo and his romantic sensibilities. While it is certainly molded in the “soft rock” of the day, there is a distinct hint here of European classicism, not dissimilar to the guitarist’s own later ballad “Time.” This “Goodbye” is sort of like a broken waltz.
<p>Here, as on several occasions on <i>Mizrab</i>, Szabo subtly overdubs himself on guitar. Bob James offers a lovely piano solo that suggests a touch of Leon Russell’s “A Song for You” that propels Szabo into his own powerful, though plaintive, statement.
<p>The breezy ”New Love” has the West Coast pop flavor of America or Seals & Crofts and, with half a century’s hindsight, sounds like a prototypical variation of smooth jazz. James offers another piano solo before the rhythm section (bolstered by Morin) kicks up the pace for the guitarist’s terrific solo flight. Szabo biographer Károly Libisch calls “New Love” a “beautifully crafted, inspired, delicate piece.”
<p>“Reinhardt,” another of Melz’s rock-like vamps – this time, in distinctly Krautrock mode – is named not for Belgian jazz guitarist Django Reinhardt but rather the bassist’s son. (Melz, who has a brother named Reinhardt, also has a grandson with this name).
<p>I don’t find this to be a particularly compelling or engaging tune, but, again, the rhythm section is all in and works up a head of steam to inspire Szabo toward some of his more interesting work here. But James is somehow allowed to overplay his hand on “Reinhardt,” adding odd synthesizer washes, unusual organ doodles and a mélange of distractions over a rather uninspired electric piano solo.
<p>Almost exactly one year later, Szabo would include “Reinhardt” in the program of music he performed with Hungarian musicians for Hungary’s first-ever TV program devoted to jazz music: <i>Jazzpódium 74: Szabó Gábor (USA) Müsora</i>. While “Reinhardt” was not broadcast at the time, the performance was recorded and included on the 2008 LP/CD release <i>Gabor Szabo In Budapest</i>.
<p>The delightful ”Help Me Build a Lifetime” is one of the album’s hidden gems. For some reason, this catchy little number never had much prominence inside – or outside – of Szabo’s orbit. “Lifetime” harks back to those wonderfully zippy tunes like “Cheetah,” “Sophisticated Wheels” or “Comin’ Back” that Szabo could whip out in his sleep. Indeed, Szabo (who overdubs himself again) delivers a fiery solo here that recalls those glorious early days. Melz himself offers up yet another tasty solo.
<p>Robert Lamm’s pretty “All is Well” is an odd addition to the program. This little-known piece originated on the band Chicago’s 1972 album <i>Chicago V</i>. Lamm had already written such well-known Chicago hits as “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is,” “Twenty-Five or Six to Four” and “Saturday in the Park” (also on <i>Chicago V</i>). “All is Well” was not even released as a single by the group. One wonders whose idea it was to cover it here.
<p>Szabo’s presence is almost perfunctory at this point. “All is Well” is seemingly more of a showcase for James’s piano – which has the strangely muffled resilience engineer Rudy Van Gelder accorded to all acoustic pianos he recorded for CTI during this period. The song’s outro offers its most compelling case, wherein the quartet is allowed to riff off the melody while the guitarist and bassist dance around each other’s lovely figures. A little more of this would have been magical.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3v8vcWcARNabtGcLCyaMzFsN7bapCG0zsay7ceqwgc5Rlp9nGg17TTZvfarYLFY6iNj-LCrrJ9-j40gVyiVnF6zL1V--_tfBv5SRcblFZ14-u1h-FPBtAIuomFHV7Rp6w43EYEhNFgAUHkrQi9YSntHltRMBeY5x1OpYvIgfN8tEKCuS_YY0/s300/rambler6.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3v8vcWcARNabtGcLCyaMzFsN7bapCG0zsay7ceqwgc5Rlp9nGg17TTZvfarYLFY6iNj-LCrrJ9-j40gVyiVnF6zL1V--_tfBv5SRcblFZ14-u1h-FPBtAIuomFHV7Rp6w43EYEhNFgAUHkrQi9YSntHltRMBeY5x1OpYvIgfN8tEKCuS_YY0/s400/rambler6.jpg"/></a></div><p><center><b>V.</b></center>
<p><i>Rambler</i>, to these ears, is a satisfying, well-rounded program. But while the guitarist is in fine fettle throughout, the album is, however, only a middling success: neither the best he could do nor the worst he actually did.
<p>One misses Szabo’s compositional contributions, yet Melz’s tunes – not to mention his adept work on bass – fit Szabo like a glove. And the guitarist’s enthusiasm for the program can hardly be questioned.
<p>In some ways, <i>Rambler</i>, like <i>High Contrast</i> (1971) before it and certainly <i>Faces</i> (1976) later, is something of a transitional record: the result of a one-time maverick looking for a way to fit in to changing times and changing tastes. He was hardly alone there.
<p>Szabo was off to California shortly thereafter for a scheduled appearance starting on Tuesday, October 2 at Howard Rumsey’s Concerts by the Sea in Redondo Beach. He’d be back on the East Coast in late November for sessions with saxophonist Paul Desmond that resulted in the marvelous album <i>Skylark</i> (more on that later).
<p>Szabo’s second CTI album was released in March 1974, at the same time as vibraphonist Milt Jackson’s second CTI album, <i>Goodbye</i>. After much digging, I have been unable to determine whether the Szabo record ever charted or how much it might have sold.
<p>”Szabo has abandoned his feedback sound,” wrote <i>Billboard</i> of <i>Rambler</i>, “and now concentrates on blending pure, beautiful tones within the constantly moving rhythmic feel of this quintet. There is a haunting, melodic quality to his playing, whether it's on the single note lines or when strumming several strings al the same time. Bassist Wolfgang Metz is a superb accompanist, duet partner with Szabo on guitar, laying down strong, rich notes.” (April 27, 1974)
<p><i>DownBeat</i> was far less charitable. In a two-and-a-half-star review (oddly peppered with typos), critic Jon Balleras griped, “The problem is partially with programming. Too many of these tunes fall into the same lightweight rock groove; while their melodies are listenable, they’re far from memorable….Melz’s bass work, though, is worth listening for…In short, this is pleasant music; you can probably dance to it, but I don’t recommend it for serious listening.” (July 18, 1974)
<p>Surprisingly, there were no singles issued from the album, although at least one tune, “Help Me Build a Lifetime,” had a reasonable shot at radio airplay. “It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye” might have had a chance as well.
<p>The Japanese label P.J.L. (Polystar Jazz Library) label licensed <i>Rambler</i>, among about a dozen other CTI titles including Szabo’s <i>Macho</i>, from King Records for a CD issue in 2002. Sony Records, which owns the bulk of the CTI catalog outside of Japan, has since included <i>Rambler</i> on most streaming services…so, it should be easy to hear the album in whatever media format you prefer.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmHFGBq490uexBVd5KtEycnlmA39gA0IrO_mIYkpzYHhZ6lqt_hUh3GrW3M1Bqo3OtDImRQioKyhpHoU8Piywia8po5XrPj2d4lq5YXFPgTmBvZSWtS18JCV79KKC8H_73nFjLuTX7HmZAGsqPKluoCJ-PHLZVBPY0PtkukjcpDhaiZa6fzl0/s432/rambler2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmHFGBq490uexBVd5KtEycnlmA39gA0IrO_mIYkpzYHhZ6lqt_hUh3GrW3M1Bqo3OtDImRQioKyhpHoU8Piywia8po5XrPj2d4lq5YXFPgTmBvZSWtS18JCV79KKC8H_73nFjLuTX7HmZAGsqPKluoCJ-PHLZVBPY0PtkukjcpDhaiZa6fzl0/s400/rambler2.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>About the Cover:</b> The striking photograph on the cover of <i>Rambler</i> was shot in 1973 by Pete Turner inside the Hyatt Regency hotel in Houston, Texas. Opening the previous year, the hotel is famed as Houston’s tallest and prominently features a revolving restaurant called the “Spindletop.” The hotel was also the site for a scene in the 1976 film <i>Logan’s Run</i>.
<p>“In this period,” noted photographer Pete Turner in his landmark book <i>The Color of Jazz</i> (2006), “when anything went for these covers, those atrium hotels were just coming in. It was a big visual turn-on for me. Up to that point, nobody photographed hotel lobbies. The lighted paths are actually elevator shafts. I tilted the camera and that’s what gives it a directional excitement. I used daylight colors to give it that warm effect.”
<p>In a nice bit of kismet, it’s worth noting that <i>Rambler</i> bassist Wolfgang Melz himself ended up relocating to Houston, while <i>Rambler</i> keyboardist Mike Wofford was born in Texas…but miles away, in the lovely town of San Antonio, where I spent a brief sojourn myself.
<p>While a hotel seems to be an ideal way to represent a <i>rambler</i>'s plight - or - flight, Pete Turner's terrifically-stylized photograph beautifully suggests an architectural web. It begs the question: Who is the <i>rambler</i>, the spider or the fly?
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-65099231675570147702023-08-26T16:10:00.003-04:002023-08-26T16:10:53.733-04:00Gil Evans on Verve (1964-88)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAh0XM4Ch_Q8J4c9i3NW6ddnjm2615sEDaZk-n2SR1D7yU92kyUcse2JN6vtTLjAKaa4qTZDjg3_j9-QOtby_kFbbDm0tye25hr7qc5weI3MZXJQJith3erZ5i1oAo2EZ6Xv2u-j_VHUYT2bKqfpGAOyMQqhH6efrg-ZKMzRn6x8Dkj7JrUldp/s600/gil5.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAh0XM4Ch_Q8J4c9i3NW6ddnjm2615sEDaZk-n2SR1D7yU92kyUcse2JN6vtTLjAKaa4qTZDjg3_j9-QOtby_kFbbDm0tye25hr7qc5weI3MZXJQJith3erZ5i1oAo2EZ6Xv2u-j_VHUYT2bKqfpGAOyMQqhH6efrg-ZKMzRn6x8Dkj7JrUldp/s400/gil5.jpg"/></a></div><p>Under the aegis of Creed Taylor, Verve Records may well have reached its commercial, critical and artistic zenith in 1964. Consider just some of the label’s releases that year.
<p>There was not one but three great Jimmy Smith records issued in 1964, notably the exceptional Lalo Schifrin-arranged <i>The Cat</i>.
<p>Also out that year were guitarist Wes Montgomery’s Verve debut, <i>Movin’ Wes</i>; Bill Evans’s evergreen <i>Trio 64</i>; and, of course, the multiple Grammy Award-winning <i>Getz/Gilberto</i>, the disc that recognized and rewarded saxophonist Stan Getz and guitar/vocalist João Gilberto, engineer, Phil Ramone, and the album’s huge hit single, “The Girl from Ipanema,” helmed by ingenue Astrud Gilberto.
<p>And then there was <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i>, the exceptional Verve debut of the great arranger, then-reluctant bandleader and pianist Gil Evans (1912-88).
<p>The album was Evans’s first foray under his own name since the magnificent <i>Out of the Cool</i> four years earlier, an album also produced by Creed Taylor. (That album’s sequel, <i>Into the Hot</i> [1961], was a Gil Evans outing in name only.) In the meantime, Evans was actively working with Miles Davis on the trumpeter’s celebrated <i>Miles Davis at Carnegie Hall</i> (1962) and the troubled but still worthy <i>Quiet Nights</i> (1963).
<p>While Evans effectively recorded only one album for Verve, the majority of his studio work for the remainder of the decade was with the label and yielded several discs well worth exploring. (Evans’s work with Miles Davis in 1968 and an eponymous disc some two years later, for the briefly-lived Ampex label, later retitled <i>Blues in Orbit</i>, are not part of this conversation.)
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-92182210596312543002023-08-26T16:08:00.001-04:002023-08-26T16:08:05.367-04:00Gil Evans - "The Individualism of Gil Evans" (1964)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTyAZ2E9lOkaxO3_u2x-XWeOnkti5_HYulqz8vSernOPbJLcDWliTKsxBdDcbMvgJwRlnl5I4qmWVkTorfEsaTsQeEFXDgVGj4Gkq7TID9kssNb2auvdrdZFDppo8UJOq4Fe-iiftueyvIqzzJpyAYe3kjluBilOCKl-07ERcAUC2WaW2giIr/s600/tiofge1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTyAZ2E9lOkaxO3_u2x-XWeOnkti5_HYulqz8vSernOPbJLcDWliTKsxBdDcbMvgJwRlnl5I4qmWVkTorfEsaTsQeEFXDgVGj4Gkq7TID9kssNb2auvdrdZFDppo8UJOq4Fe-iiftueyvIqzzJpyAYe3kjluBilOCKl-07ERcAUC2WaW2giIr/s400/tiofge1.jpg"/></a></div><p>Recorded over four sessions between September 1963 and July 1964, the five songs that make up the original LP of <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i> seem to chronicle a desire for some sort of perfection that likely frustrated producer Creed Taylor, himself a perfectionist. It’s probably the same sort of thing that flummoxed Evans and Davis on what Columbia put out as <i>Quiet Nights</i>.
<p>But if the result is imperfect, <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i> comes as close as you can get to a perfectly satisfying musical statement from Gil Evans.
<p>This exquisite album is probably best known for its signature piece, “Las Vegas Tango.” Named because “it had a kind of open sound like the plains,” “Las Vegas Tango” is a brilliant two-part invention: the early part gets a mournful solo by trombonist Jimmy Cleveland while the brassy part (which screams of the Las Vegas strip to these ears) benefits by guitarist Kenny Burrell, almost buried in the mix.
<p>It’s easy to miss the significance of Paul Chamber’s moody bass and Elvin Jones’s aggressive percussion on “Las Vegas Tango”’s affective and hypnotic draw. But it’s their work that helps makes this track as singular and memorable as it is.
<p>Unlike other songs present here, Evans never performed “Las Vegas Tango” again – until bandleader and Evans biographer Laurent Cugny persuaded the song’s composer to revive it during a European tour at the end of his life. “Las Vegas Tango” is hardly the standard it should be. But it has been effectively covered by artists as diverse as Robert Wyatt, Michael Shrieve, Nels Cline, Mike Gibbs and, most notably and effectively by Gary Burton.
<p>“The Barbara Song” (a.k.a. “Barbarasong”) is a haunting theme taken from Kurt Weill’s music for Bertolt Brecht’s “play with music” <i>The Threepenny Opera</i>. The song has not often received much coverage in jazz, but it was notably covered in 1962 on a Weill tribute album by Andre Previn and J.J. Johnson. Here, Evans crafts some gorgeous, dreamlike horn swaths while offering his always welcome “arranger’s piano.” Wayne Shorter takes a beautifully lyrical solo that is particularly notable as that aspect of his playing hadn’t been much in evidence at the time.
<p>“Hotel Me” is one of the themes Evans and Miles Davis wrote for the play “Time of the Barracudas” (more on that later). If this one is a bawdy stripper-type theme, it is certainly one of the classiest. Evans balances low brass with wispy flutes and takes a number of solo spins on piano, playing – as he himself says in the album’s liner notes – “real broad.” Evans continued performing “Hotel Me” throughout the remainder of his life, but the song was also known as “Jelly Rolls” by the early seventies.
<p>In such company, the likeable but ever-so brief ”Flute Song,” a feature for Al Block, and “El Toreador” (spotlighting trumpeter Johnny Coles) feel more like filler than fleshed-out melodies. Both are far too fleeting but impressionistic and ever-Evanescent orchestral pieces that serve more as transitions than compositions – or, like outtakes from the Davis-Evans masterwork <i>Sketches of Spain</i> (1960).
<p><i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i> was released in September 1964 to mostly favorable fanfare. "’Exotic Jazz,’" wrote <i>Billboard</i> on September 26, 1964, “truly special, highly stylized and individualistic to the last note.”
<p>”The 88'er's thematic originality and inventive instrumentation,” wrote <i>Cash Box</i>, somewhat condescendingly, “is evident throughout these highly individual performances” (also September 26, 1964). Notice how both reviews use the album’s title as a point of contention, making it difficult to discern whether individuality was considered a good thing or bad.
<p>Individuality doesn’t normally sell records. But it leaves a mark, as this record surely did. From its striking cover to the amazing music within, this album continues to speak volumes.
<p><i>The Individuality of Gil Evans</i> was nominated for a Grammy Award as Best Instrumental Jazz Performance – Large Group or Soloist with Large Group. While the Miles Davis-Gil Evans set <i>Quiet Nights</i> was also nominated that year, both lost to guitarist Laurindo Almedia’s lovely but long-forgotten <i>Guitar from Ipanema</i>.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-78669376406318539032023-08-26T16:05:00.002-04:002023-08-26T16:08:19.406-04:00Kenny Burrell - "Guitar Forms" (1965)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNVCZqzXto0cbd0E-WHVfWMBLLf8-u5sFPSQHoc5niWCkYXJhkjxJdE_bSAQIxNQRpn6tZ-fhkxVgHSRWkyMQ0s_IcFvHdB-FNOWFpvFRkBw4gR-lc_Etd_8Kgbd06yidJTD2hLz5rUr4XG2-lNIny_ryESkUq58cYIXFZrDO4oIcrgcv4kVd/s600/kenny.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="595" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNVCZqzXto0cbd0E-WHVfWMBLLf8-u5sFPSQHoc5niWCkYXJhkjxJdE_bSAQIxNQRpn6tZ-fhkxVgHSRWkyMQ0s_IcFvHdB-FNOWFpvFRkBw4gR-lc_Etd_8Kgbd06yidJTD2hLz5rUr4XG2-lNIny_ryESkUq58cYIXFZrDO4oIcrgcv4kVd/s400/kenny.jpg"/></a></div><p>The prodigiously adaptable, prolifically recorded and always engaging guitarist Kenny Burrell had previously factored in orchestras accompanying such singers as Billie Holiday, Jimmy Witherspoon, Dinah Washington and Tony Bennett.
<p>He was also one of Creed Taylor’s go-to session guys, appearing on Verve records by Kai Winding, Johnny Hodges, Cal Tjader and, notably, Jimmy Smith. Burrell was also one of the key contributors to the aforementioned <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i>.
<p>After a long series of albums under his own name – mostly, but not solely, for the Prestige label – Kenny Burrell was offered an opportunity by Verve producer Creed Taylor to record an album arranged and conducted by the one and only Gil Evans. What musician worth his (or her) salt could turn down such an offer? Of course, Kenny Burrell agreed.
<p>That album, <i>Guitar Forms</i>, is only sporadically orchestral – and notably subtle when it is. But it is a bravura showcase of Kenny Burrell’s acuity, vast gifts and ever-enduring appeal.
<p>The nine tracks appearing on the original LP were recorded over four sessions, two in December 1964 (with Gil Evans and an orchestra) and two in April 1965 (in a small-group setting – audibly without Evans and company). While it is not known whether the arranger was meant to preside over the entire album, the mix of orchestral and small group suits the leader just fine. Indeed, the small-group pieces hold their own among the orchestral pieces and do much to showcase Burrell’s musicality and versatility.
<p>The album comes out swinging with Burrell in familiar territory, vamping on Elvin Jones’s absolutely Burrell-like “Downstairs.” Burrell is equally in his element on bassist Joe Benjamin’s “Terrace Theme” and the guitarist’s bossa-<i>noverdrive</i> number “Breadwinner,” all in a quintet with pianist Roger Kellaway, Benjamin on bass, Grady Tate on drums and Willie Rodriguez on congas.
<p>The guitarist himself transcribed George Gershwin’s 1926 piece “Prelude #2” for solo acoustic guitar. It’s a particularly lovely, though brief, performance. The liner notes tell us that there was not enough space on the original album for the entire performance, so the recording was edited to offer up an “excerpt.” Strangely, though, when the disc was reissued on CD in 1997 with multiple takes of “Downstairs,” “Terrace Theme” and “Breadwinner,” there was no sign of an extended take of “Prelude #2” to be found.
<p>As nicely balanced as this set is, the focus here is on the pieces Burrell performs with Gil Evans’s orchestra. Behind the scenes on these tracks are such luminaries as longtime Evans associates trumpeter Johnny Coles, trombonist Jimmy Cleveland and saxophonists Lee Konitz and Steve Lacy as well as such significant aides-de-camp as Richie Kamuca, Ron Carter and Elvin Jones.
<p>None stand out as soloists here. But each serves Evans’s end to make his featured soloist sound, well, magnificent. The result is that <i>Guitar Forms</i> is as much a pleasure for fans of Kenny Burrell as Gil Evans. The five tracks covered here are the only five tracks listed in the recording logs. One could hope for more…but, well, dreams are just dreams.
<p>First up is “Lotus Land.” Written in 1905 by British composer Cyrill Scott (1879-1970), “Louts Land” is clearly inspired by Asian harmonies, giving it an overtly exotic appeal. It is probably Scott’s best-known composition and its popularity is likely due to Martin Denny, who covered the tune on his 1957 “bachelor pad” classic, <i>Exotica</i>.
<p>While pianist George Shearing covered “Lotus Land” in 1964, Kenny Burrell’s first brush with the song likely came during the September 1964 session he waxed for little-known pianist Eddie Bonnemère’s sole Prestige album <i>Jazz Orient-ed</i>.
<p>Here, Burrell and Evans take “Lotus Land” outside of its Asian framing to more of a Spanish setting, obviously recalling <i>Sketches of Spain</i>. It’s an inspired reconsideration. Burrell takes the lead on acoustic guitar, while Evans propels with subtle flute and low-brass motifs. Burrell’s solo here always reminds me of the Flamenco piece played at the outset of John Barry’s <i>Goldfinger</i> (1964) score. But even at nine-plus minutes, this piece seems to fade as something more promising was yet to come.
<p>Alex Wilder’s “Moon and Sand” (1941) is a haunting ballad that hadn’t had much coverage in jazz in the mid-sixties. By the time Keith Jarrett recorded it in 1985, it was considered a “standard” and has since had much coverage, particularly among pianists.
<p>Burrell had recorded the tune two months earlier with vocalist Pat Bowie on her Prestige album <i>Out of Sight!</i>, which is likely what gave the guitarist the idea to cover it here.
<p>Burrell is on acoustic guitar while Evans provides a compelling bossa-nova framework, punctuated with impressionistic horn swaths. It’s a superb performance but producer Creed Taylor oddly brings the percussionists high up in the mix – suggesting some particularly aggressive waves washing up on those otherwise lovely shores.
<p>Likely the inspiration behind Rudolph Legname’s Grammy-nominated cover photo, “Moon and Sand” stayed in the guitarist’s repertoire for many years. Indeed, Burrell recorded the song again in 1979 in a quartet setting – and with far more subtle percussion – for a lovely album called, what else, <i>Moon and Sand</i>.
<p>Burrell’s “Loie” – written for his then-wife Dolores – originated on tenor saxophonist Ike Quebec’s 1962 Blue Note album <i>Bossa Nova Soul Samba</i>. Burrell also recorded a quartet version of “Loie” under his own name for Blue Note in 1963. That recording first appeared on a Japanese album called <i>Freedom</i> - issued in 1979 and reissued domestically on vinyl in 2011. That version of “Loie” can, however, be heard much more easily on the Blue Note compilation <i>The Best of Kenny Burrell</i>.
<p>Here, again, Burrell beautifully leads on his acoustic axe. But Evans adds a fascinating sense of unease with oboe and some especially dramatic horn punctuations. There is, in this reading, an intriguing element of provocation: a love song gone awry. What could have been a jukebox jammer is, at least here, a tempest in a teapot. But it’s all the better for it.
<p>Kenny Burrell had recorded “Greensleeves” with Coleman Hawkins in 1958 and Leo Wright in 1962, but the song was best known in jazz – then and now – from the John Coltrane Quartet’s bravura performance of the tune on the Creed Taylor-produced album <i>Africa/Brass</i> (1961).
<p>The guitarist introduces “Greensleeves” on solo acoustic guitar before the orchestra rolls in and launches Burrell into his electric and positively electrical feature. Evans provides some of his finest big-band charts here since his Claude Thornhill days – while even foreshadowing the baroque charts Don Sebesky and others would provide to jazz players in the years to come.
<p>Burrell would go on to record “Greensleeves” in trios with Jimmy Smith on the memorable <i>Organ Grinder Swing</i> (1965) and live on the otherwise forgotten <i>Jazz Wave, Ltd: On Tour</i> (1969).
<p>Harold Arlen’s 1935 ballad “Last Night When We Were Young” is, perhaps, the album’s sleeper. The tune practically goes by without notice. It was a staple for Judy Garland, Tony Bennett and, perhaps most notably, Frank Sinatra. Burrell has long covered Arlen: “Get Happy,” for example, as well as “Out of this World,” “A Sleepin’ Bee,” “Blues in the Night,” “As Long as I Live” and “One for My Baby,” among others.
<p>”Last Night” features some of Evans’s most subtle orchestrations. Indeed, they’re nearly negligible given Burrell’s acoustic performance of the tune. Evans’s contributions here are brief – but exceedingly memorable. He does what any good arranger is supposed to do: step back and make the leader sound good.
<p><i>Guitar Forms</i> was released in October 1965 with one single issued from the album, “Loie” backed with the Evans-less “Downstairs.” The disc was first issued on CD in 1985 (which is when I first heard it) and again in 1997 with four additional takes of “Downstairs” and “Breadwinner” and three additional takes of “Terrace Theme,” but nothing extra from the sessions with Evans.
<p>The album was nominated for Best Instrumental Jazz Performance – Large Group or Soloist with Large Group – losing to Duke’s <i>Ellington ‘66</i> – while Gil Evans’s arrangement of “Greensleeves” was nominated for Best Arrangement Accompanying Vocalist or Instrumentalist – losing to Gordon Jenkins’s arrangement of Frank Sinatra’s “It Was a Very Good Year.”
<p><i>Guitar Forms</i> is jazz at its classiest. The album stands out in Kenny Burrell’s extensive seventy-year discography as one of his best – which is saying something, given the sheer amount of good guitaring the man has waxed over that amazing amount of time. It is also ranks, to these ears, among the highlights of Gil Evans’s distinguished discography.
<p>Burrell would go on to wax “arranged” albums with such greats as Richard Evans, Don Sebesky, Johnny Pate, Benny Golson and, much later, Gerald Wilson. But nothing comes close to the singular achievement that is <i>Guitar Forms</i>.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-16297899012784593482023-08-26T16:03:00.001-04:002023-08-26T16:08:37.064-04:00Astrud Gilberto - "Look to the Rainbow" (1966)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitGjvuK244H4Ji7azHnU-JnAomDH5oVO54swX5EVn5n2q6Lp8HrVcNuSxaLjYts1abw3t4qhQjCor4S5OVA-amm-aptMT0Q8ZvbroZsPSg14kRwAuzZaI0gTErbgszBIeir9Spug7VuAGNjtnQAT2SuE_lbsmRN3xBP0rYsTqBVzO6aT_djiDT/s600/astrud.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitGjvuK244H4Ji7azHnU-JnAomDH5oVO54swX5EVn5n2q6Lp8HrVcNuSxaLjYts1abw3t4qhQjCor4S5OVA-amm-aptMT0Q8ZvbroZsPSg14kRwAuzZaI0gTErbgszBIeir9Spug7VuAGNjtnQAT2SuE_lbsmRN3xBP0rYsTqBVzO6aT_djiDT/s400/astrud.jpg"/></a></div><p>The idea of pairing Brazilian vocalist Astrud Gilberto with jazz arranger Gil Evans seems, if not necessarily inspired, then certainly audacious. Producer Creed Taylor, the only one who could have made such a meeting possible in the first place, likely regretted the decision almost immediately.
<p>Recorded over no less than five sessions in November and December 1965 and one in February 1966 – and requiring two additional arrangements by Al Cohn (“Lugar Bonita” and “El Preciso Aprender A Ser So”) – the eleven songs that make up what became <i>Look to the Rainbow</i> must have felt like pulling teeth.
<p>Listening to the result sometimes feels like no less than a trip to the dentist’s office itself: sometimes pleasant, sometimes not.
<p>Surprisingly, there is almost no chemistry here. Gilberto, who is often said to inject “a certain sadness” in her singing, sounds positively disinterested here. She is surely not the breezy “Girl from Ipanema” (which she isn’t anyway) on this disc. Gilberto sounds bored, sometimes off-key, not to mention uninspired and even confused by her accompaniment. Such confusion seems justified.
<p>To be fair, Astrud Gilberto, despite her stunning ability to sing in many languages, is <i>not</i> a jazz singer. And while Gil Evans had arranged for several singers earlier in his career (Helen Merrill, Marcy Lutes, Lucy Reed), his affinity for this sort of music was limited…at best.
<p>Let’s face it: Astrud Gilberto is no jazz singer and Gil Evans is no populist.
<p>It is notable that only two musicians are credited here. That’s pretty unusual for an Evans project and suggests that his (or somebody’s) heart really wasn’t in it. Not even the Stan Getz-ish soloist on “Maria Quiet” is identified.
<p>The Verve recording logs list the possible participation of Johnny Coles on trumpet, Bob Brookmeyer on trombone and Kenny Burrell on guitar. Evans himself is credited on piano and while it sounds like him on the album’s tinkly title track, the soloist on “Bim Bom” surely does not. Grady Tate is audibly present throughout on drums.
<p>Baden Powell’s “Berimbau” kicks the album off in fine style, offering the best of both singer and arranger the disc has to offer. It promises much more than <i>Look to the Rainbow</i> ends up delivering. Featured on the titular instrument is Brazilian percussionist Dom Um Romão, who played drums on the 1964 version of the song by Trio 3D on their album <i>Tema 3D</i>.
<p>The album’s first two English-language songs are both Michel Legrand numbers, “Once Upon a Summertime” (a.k.a. “La valse des lilas”), which Evans previously tackled with Miles Davis on <i>Quiet Nights</i>, and the soporific “I Will Wait for You,” with a brief statement of sorts from trumpeter Johnny Coles.
<p>Antonio Carlos Jobim’s well-known “(A) Felicidade” and ”Frevo” – both from <i>Black Orpheus</i> (1959) – get fairly uncomfortable makeovers in Evans’s hands. The latter tune, especially, gets a wildly incongruent Carnival setting. It’s as though John Barry went native much as he did for the Junkanoo sequence in <i>Thunderball</i>.
<p>The pair don’t really get back on track until the album’s closer, an English-language cover of Jobim’s “She’s a Carioca.” This iteration of the song made its first appearance on the 1965 Nelson Riddle-arranged album <i>The Wonderful World of Antonio Carlos Jobim</i> (which also included Dom Um Romão on drums), although Gilberto leaves out all the bits about being “in love with her in the most exciting way.”
<p>Even Evans is back in his element here. His horn parts – which don’t even attempt to mimic Riddle’s smoother strings and flutes – are more in his signature style and fit the song and Gilberto’s style more seamlessly than elsewhere.
<p>Gilberto avails herself nicely on the Brazilian pieces – perhaps because she had more of a hand in selecting them. These include the aforementioned “She’s a Carioca”; “Bim Bom,” written by ex-husband João Gilberto (and previously covered by Stan Getz and Gary McFarland on <i>Big Band Bossa Nova</i>); and Carlos Lyra’s spunky “Maria Quiet” (first heard in America on a 1965 Sergio Mendes record), which gets a set of English lyrics by Norman Gimbel specifically for this recording.
<p><i>Look to the Rainbow</i> was released in April 1966 to surprisingly little fanfare. “The clear, bell-like tones that mark Miss Gilberto's vocal style,” wrote <i>Billboard</i>, “enhance the jazz-oriented melodies arranged by Gil Evans…Should prove a hot sales and programming item.” But it didn’t.
<p>Oddly, there were no singles issued from the album at the time. Instead, Verve had Astrud Gilberto front some contemporaneous movie themes: the non-album, Don Sebesky-arranged “Wish Me a Rainbow” (from <i>This Property is Condemned</i>) and, later in the year, “Who Needs Forever” (from the soundtrack to <i>The Deadly Affair</i>).
<p>In July of the following year, Verve released a promotional five-disc boxset of singles titled <i>Verve Celebrity Scene – Astrud Gilberto</i> that sampled ten songs from Gilberto’s catalog, including this album’s “Once Upon a Summertime,” “Berimbau,” “Look to the Rainbow” and “Lugar Bonita.” The package, issued to radio stations for airplay, likely had very little effect.
<p>After <i>Look to the Rainbow</i>, Astrud Gilberto would team with fellow Brazilian ex-pat Walter Wanderley for <i>A Certain Smile A Certain Sadness</i> (1967). (The first side of that LP appears as “bonus tracks” to the first CD issue of <i>Look to the Rainbow</i>.)
<p>Gil Evans would again vanish from the scene. “Periodically,” wrote Ralph J. Gleason, “since he first attracted attention in the jazz world, Gil Evans has made a statement and retreated from the stage into a kind of musical hibernation into which he assimilates music and lets it work its way through his system. Then he emerges again with some new contribution.”
<p>That contribution would not appear until four years later with a newly electric Evans set on Ampex called, simply enough, <i>Gil Evans</i> (later known as <i>Blues in Orbit</i>). That album laid the foundation of the orchestra that would personify Evans for the remainder of his career.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-34307199679054385262023-08-26T16:01:00.001-04:002023-08-26T16:08:50.870-04:00Gil Evans Orch, Kenny Burrell & Phil Woods - "Previously Unreleased Recordings" (1974)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMwhrq7KWBlCIUV4bo4KiUZ0Kq-keBj0UakeZTfLA4ro9Rooc1GrU5uBve-wcTosrGXg_1P12Ssv45Z6nKGKCQiZBmwjVRY8WVIXvfsdj__pmfE9nwoZZAWjqXIKsbgiDX8Veu68VVwrRzHH0b5_nakwM9ekf_ckPaLxmf90J_oa1i8n22B2K/s360/gil4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMwhrq7KWBlCIUV4bo4KiUZ0Kq-keBj0UakeZTfLA4ro9Rooc1GrU5uBve-wcTosrGXg_1P12Ssv45Z6nKGKCQiZBmwjVRY8WVIXvfsdj__pmfE9nwoZZAWjqXIKsbgiDX8Veu68VVwrRzHH0b5_nakwM9ekf_ckPaLxmf90J_oa1i8n22B2K/s400/gil4.jpg"/></a></div><p>The January 1974 release of this record greatly upset Gil Evans. He considered these outtakes from <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i> as unfinished, inferior or unacceptable to the work that was issued in 1964.
<p>This disc was one of Verve’s “Previously Unreleased Recordings,” a series that rescued six otherwise unissued treasures buried in the Verve vaults by Stan Getz and Bill Evans, Johnny Hodges with Lalo Schifrin, Clark Terry with Bob Brookmeyer, Jimmy Witherspoon with Ben Webster and Sonny Stitt. The majority of these were originally produced by Creed Taylor, who, in 1974, was basking in the success of his own CTI Records productions. Taylor was likely unhappy about these releases as well.
<p>The Evans set contained five previously unissued tracks Evans waxed over three 1964 recording sessions: March 4 (“Blues and Orbit,” “Isabel”), May 25 (“Concorde,” “Spoonful”) and July 9 (“Barracuda” – the same session that yielded the previously-released “The Barbara Song”).
<p>Perhaps what galled Evans even more is the shoddy way the music was treated here. The titles “Blues in Orbit” and “Isabel” (also listed on a British compilation as “The Underdog”) are both incorrectly titled and credited. “Blues in Orbit,” a song properly credited to George Russell, is actually Charlie Parker’s “Cheryl” while “Isabel” is Al Cohn’s “Ah, Moore.”
<p>It’s difficult to say how these songs ended up with these titles. But they were likely listed as such on the original 1964 recording logs. But since the recordings weren’t released at the time, nobody bothered to correct the sheets. Whoever was in charge of putting these recordings out in 1974 just didn’t know enough to correct the titles – or ask someone who might have known, like, say, Mr. Evans.
<p>Both these tunes are from a quartet session that featured Evans on piano, Tony Studd on bass-trombone, Paul Chambers on bass and Clifford Jarvis on drums. Neither is particularly bad nor shames anyone in any way. Each spotlights Studd (sounding very much like Bob Brookmeyer here) and, unusually, Evans on piano – very nicely.
<p>But there is a jam session quality to these two pieces, as though the players were just warming up or winding down from the real work at hand. Neither piece would have fit comfortably in or on the large-group soundscapes of <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i>. Both producer Creed Taylor and the record’s leader would have understood this and objected to the release of these tracks – in 1964 and 1974.
<p>John Lewis’s ”Concorde” and Willie Dixon’s “Spoonful” (on the record label as “Spoonfull”) come from a session that also included a piece titled “Punjab,” a track that was never finished to Evans’s satisfaction – and, remarkably, has never been issued (although bandleader Ryan Truesdell recorded Evans’s arrangement of “Punjab” for the 2012 disc <i>Centennial</i>).
<p>While “Spoonful” might have come as a surprise to listeners in 1964 – maybe even 1974, too – one listen reveals just how flawlessly Evans can bring any good tune into his own musical universe (something which failed him somewhat on <i>Gil Evans Plays the Music of Jimi Hendrix</i>, also released in 1974). Evans’s horn voicings here are ethereal.
<p>As it turns out, it would be another 14 years before anyone would know how savagely “Spoonful” was edited here. The nearly 14-minute piece lost about four and a half minutes of playing time for this release, sacrificing Thad Jones’s terrific solo, a piano interlude and a good bit of that sensuous Evans orchestration. Other soloists heard here are Kenny Burrell, Phil Woods and, intermittently, Evans himself.
<p>Rounding out the record is “Barracuda,” perhaps this disc’s most notable piece. If this was left off <i>The Individualism</i> for time considerations, it suggests that either Evans or Taylor were hoping for a follow-up. It’s just too good to sit in a vault somewhere.
<p>“Barracuda” – credited here solely to Evans – is an extended version of one of the cues Gil Evans and Miles Davis crafted for Peter Barnes’s 1963 play <i>Time of the Barracudas</i>. Davis and Evans wrote and recorded a series of twenty-some cues, including this one and “Hotel Me,” in October 1963 that amounted to about 12 minutes of music. A tape recording of the score was meant to accompany the play’s performances, but it’s uncertain whether that ever happened.
<p>The Miles Davis recording of the suite wouldn’t see the light of day until the 1996 box set <i>Miles Davis & Gil Evans – The Complete Columbia Studio Recordings</i> and, then, as a bonus track to the 1997 CD issue of <i>Quiet Nights</i>.
<p>Here, Evans elongates the theme as a feature for Wayne Shorter on tenor sax, Kenny Burrell on guitar and, notably, Elvin Jones on drums (props to Gary Peacock for his work on bass here, too). This must have been a revelation in 1974. It certainly was for this listener in 1988.
<p>Wayne Shorter, who was present on the Miles Davis recording of the tune, also recorded the song in 1965 as “Barracudas” (credited there solely to Evans). But even that recording wasn’t issued until years later on the Japanese album <i>The Collector</i> (1979) and, in America, on the <i>Etcetera</i> LP in 1980 and on CD (with a different cover) in 1995.
<p>Evans himself later recorded the song as “General Assembly” on his 1970 album <i>Gil Evans</i> (a.k.a. <i>Blues in Orbit</i>) and when “Barracuda” appeared on the 1988 CD release of <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i>, it was nicely placed at the beginning of the disc and was listed as “Time of the Barracudas.” In both cases, the song was properly credited to both Gil Evans and Miles Davis.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-6502294713383742572023-08-26T15:58:00.001-04:002023-08-26T16:09:10.070-04:00Gil Evans - "The Individualism of Gil Evans" (1988)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKp9liK3KfGa7wNUkTcrjKEPDGKzw3NPjjXLoD9x0yTWck1ZZxJnVR33-7glsUbWGutWGzrNJAF2M8PaS5rlXbKrfuWK82jQggLhogXDRxL6TOSf232FQuB8eMWJ87SPrbxCji5iROwZpaiXBfsTUonG3VE_UHsmA-BVMoYg76kcDDtDd9O5D/s594/tiofge2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKp9liK3KfGa7wNUkTcrjKEPDGKzw3NPjjXLoD9x0yTWck1ZZxJnVR33-7glsUbWGutWGzrNJAF2M8PaS5rlXbKrfuWK82jQggLhogXDRxL6TOSf232FQuB8eMWJ87SPrbxCji5iROwZpaiXBfsTUonG3VE_UHsmA-BVMoYg76kcDDtDd9O5D/s400/tiofge2.jpg"/></a></div><p>Coming mere months after Gil Evans’s death at age 75, this first-ever appearance of <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i> on CD seemed then like some sort of solace: a measure of the man’s craft and evidence of his singular genius. Surely one of Evans’s finest musical documents, this iteration of <i>The Individualism</i> remains, perhaps, the most complete and satisfying version of the disc that could be.
<p>It’s also exactly what Evans himself wanted. The producers – who include the reliably thorough, careful and artful Michael Cuscuna and Richard Seidel with the assistance of venerable researcher Phil Schaap – worked closely with Evans himself in crafting the final presentation.
<p>The CD doubles the LP’s original playing time by adding to the album’s original five titles (tracks 2 to 5), three titles appearing on the 1974 album (tracks 1, 8 and 9 – the newly presented unedited 13-and-a-half-minute version of “Spoonful”) and two previously unissued titles.
<p>According to Cuscuna’s liner notes (which accompany Gene Lees’s original notes with Evans’s commentary), Evans was energized by hearing this recording of “Spoonful.” “Upon hearing the full version for approval of this CD,” writes Cuscuna, “Gil fell in love with the arrangement and the performance. He has resolved to bring it into the book of his current performance.”
<p>As no official recording has documented such evidence, you have to wonder whether this ever happened.
<p>In a bit of perfect programming, the CD opens not with “The Barbara Song,” as on the original LP, but with “Time of the Barracudas,” which was known on the 1974 album as “Barracuda.” This Evans original perfectly sets the stage for what else is to come. It’s mind-boggling that this treasure wasn’t issued at the time.
<p>Perhaps another Evans album on Verve was in the works. That would explain the appearance here of the two previously unreleased titles, “Proclamation” and “Nothing Like You.” Both were recorded at Rudy Van Gelder’s studio on October 29, 1964, a full month <i>after</i> the original release of <i>The Individualization of Gil Evans</i>.
<p>”Proclamation” is an impressionistic string of arpeggios that gets equally dreamy solos by Wayne Shorter, (possibly and briefly) Johnny Coles and Evans’s spiky piano motifs. Like “Time of the Barracudas” – known then as “General Assembly” – Evans would revisit “Proclamation” on his eponymous 1969 recording, later known as <i>Blues in Orbit</i>. There, it is briefer and much more dramatic: more nightmare than this disc’s dream scenario.
<p>Bob Dorough’s “Nothing Like You” had been arranged by Evans in 1962 for Miles Davis (although the song was recorded during the <i>Quiet Nights</i> sessions, it wasn’t issued until 1967, where it was tacked on to the end of Davis’s otherwise quintet recording of <i>Sorcerer</i>). Here, the song is helmed by Wayne Shorter, who was also present on the Davis recording – a full two years <i>before</i> he joined the trumpeter’s now-famed second quintet.
<p>This iteration of “Nothing Like You” removes Willie Bobo’s percussion in favor of (probably) Elvin Jones’s more aggressive drum work and adds (likely Kenny Burrell’s) guitar, flute and tuba to the soundscape. It also reminds listeners that Miles was merely part of the section on the original, not the soloist: surely a tribute to the gorgeous charts that Evans provided to him.
<p>After this October 1964 session, Evans would work on several Verve sessions for Kenny Burrell and Astrud Gilberto. But the man largely vanished from the music scene after that. There was no full-fledged sequel to <i>The Individualization of Gil Evans</i>. By early 1967, producer Creed Taylor would leave Verve. He and Evans would never work together again.
<p>Evans would reunite with Miles Davis in early 1968 for several takes of “Falling Water” and did not return on record under his own name until 1969 – and, oddly, on the then new and fledgling Ampex label.
<p>Whether its title is complimentary or critical (or, knowing Creed Taylor, a bit of both), <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i> is an individual achievement and, in this presentation, among Gil Evans’s best work of the sixties, if not among the best work under his own name in his entire career.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-63685897628981909532023-08-06T10:33:00.001-04:002023-08-06T10:33:58.803-04:00The Forgotten Fusions of Freddie Hubbard (1981-89)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1VpUgJbeD4rH59pvYsTGvX_24rd4c2rMutqtGoOoUH_f7k126zYSp6PRKBGyQFW5soIgP4fwqWM1yZvK-voHN8RzMKMgp3VDj4n5MOFmhZREQAKE4Rl2w0u0U3_bQOG-i9k2BDE21kJUjGfUaxAItJGaka0EzRJnzaV_WtUT_j45453Xi3iG/s1000/hub1a.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1VpUgJbeD4rH59pvYsTGvX_24rd4c2rMutqtGoOoUH_f7k126zYSp6PRKBGyQFW5soIgP4fwqWM1yZvK-voHN8RzMKMgp3VDj4n5MOFmhZREQAKE4Rl2w0u0U3_bQOG-i9k2BDE21kJUjGfUaxAItJGaka0EzRJnzaV_WtUT_j45453Xi3iG/s400/hub1a.jpg"/></a></div><p>Fusion jazz was as good as dead by 1980. Well, maybe not dead – but definitely not as cool or cutting-edge as it was only a decade before. It was also no longer the “fusion” of jazz, rock and funk it once was. At the turn of the eighties, fusion was much more informed by disco, itself a victim of popular – and, not-so-arguably, racist and homophobic – backlash by then.
<p>For all the jazz players mining fusion throughout the seventies, many of whom became stars during this period, most saw the writing on the wall. The times were changing…yet again. Fusion players began to splinter off: some going back (awkwardly and inconsequentially) to their acoustic roots while others swam easily into the warm waters of “smooth jazz.” Some soldiered on, wherever it took them.
<p>Consider trumpeter and flugelhorn player Freddie Hubbard (1938-2008). He easily and successfully traversed the worlds of bebop, post-bop, modal, free (“new thing”) and soul jazz in the sixties before launching into fusion at CTI in the seventies, beginning with his landmark album <i>Red Clay</i> (1970).
<p>Shortly after winning a Grammy Award for his 1971 album <i>First Light</i>, the trumpeter left CTI for a highly lucrative contract (that CTI could not afford to match) at the mega-major Columbia label, home to fusion legends Weather Report, Herbie Hancock, John McLaughlin’s Mahavishnu Orchestra and (later) Chick Corea’s Return to Forever.
<p>Oh, and someone named Miles – a frequent challenger to Freddie Hubbard in the polls and the charts throughout the years.
<p>Between 1974 and 1980, Hubbard waxed seven studio records for Columbia, including his most divisive album (and a favorite of this writer), <i>Windjammer</i> (1976). Produced and arranged by Hubbard’s fellow CTI All Star alum Bob James, <i>Windjammer</i> became – and remains – Freddie Hubbard’s best-selling and highest-charting album, reaching #85 in the <i>Billboard</i> Top 200 in 1976.
<p>The last Freddie Hubbard album to even crack the <i>Billboard</i> Top 200 – on Columbia or <i>any</i> label – was the superb 1978 <i>Super Blue</i>, essentially a CTI All Stars reunion. Hubbard’s particularly fine, but regrettably-titled <i>Skagly</i> (1980) made a minor dent on jazz radio. But even jazz radio stations were starting to vanish around the country by then.
<p>In October 1980, Columbia “dropped” Freddie Hubbard (as well as Stan Getz and Wilbert Longmire) from the label – a mere five months after the release of <i>Skagly</i>, despite the album reaching number 14 that year on the <i>Billboard</i> Jazz chart. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough.
<p>Oddly, though, Hubbard blamed his lack of success at Columbia on Bob James, of all people.
<p>”I think Columbia relied too much on Bob James to produce jazz artists,” Hubbard told <i>DownBeat</i> in November 1981. “He wasn’t really a jazz producer. He was trying to get me away from jazz, which he did. Bob would just come in and lay down the tracks. I had to fit into what he had laid out. That was a mistake ‘cause there was no looseness.”
<p>Outside of <i>Windjammer</i>, though, James had no known input on any other Hubbard album. It’s also unlikely James would have had the time for Hubbard after their lone album together as James was engaged with setting up his own Tappan Zee label and its artist roster – one that did not include the trumpeter in any way. But at least Hubbard himself considered <i>Windjammer</i> “a pretty good album.”
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsotQ-oftVfEjBEfDgHHxBx-9dsyVVKBgKASbb4hqElmCtUCsjYoXGRhVIJ2JBDGiTVTU4aaihKqfTlLStHnsfh7_Q6RwBqsuUOWB0m2nIYbPcQ7oy4PNCNJepP-CcyIzz7l9UHR_Wz6drtghSA7fxhN8Zcz7E7cOP67r2O1klh85XB2ED2Gxr/s1188/fred2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsotQ-oftVfEjBEfDgHHxBx-9dsyVVKBgKASbb4hqElmCtUCsjYoXGRhVIJ2JBDGiTVTU4aaihKqfTlLStHnsfh7_Q6RwBqsuUOWB0m2nIYbPcQ7oy4PNCNJepP-CcyIzz7l9UHR_Wz6drtghSA7fxhN8Zcz7E7cOP67r2O1klh85XB2ED2Gxr/s320/fred2.jpg"/></a></div><p><b><center>II.</center></b>
<p>If Hubbard seemed bitter, his departure from Columbia freed him from whatever burdens Columbia imposed upon him---to do the exact same thing. While he was now a free agent, able to chart the waters of a new decade of ever-evolving tastes, technology and up-and-coming talent (notably a young lion named Wynton) he kept putting out more commercially-oriented fare. For a while, at least.
<p>Now something of an elder stateman, Hubbard, only in his early forties, was busier than ever. He had a strong repertoire of originals and standards and was consistently able to keep a working band together. Hubbard did gigs on both the West and East Coasts, played festival dates all over the world and was often a featured soloist with many college bands.
<p>A lot of these live dates were recorded and quite a few were issued during this period, most with Hubbard’s own consent. Hubbard also took advantage of many recording opportunities for a variety of American, European and Japanese labels.
<p>Even though Hubbard was already part of one of the seventies’ only notable acoustic jazz groups, V.S.O.P. The Quintet (1976-79), he gradually returned to straight-ahead, or, as some would say, “traditional” jazz settings on his own.
<p>The most memorable of these include the none too subtly-titled <i>Back to Birdland</i> (1981 – notable at the time for being digitally recorded), the all-star <i>The Griffith Park Collection</i> (1982), the terrific <i>Sweet Return</i> (1983) and the exceptional <i>Double Take</i> (1985), with Woody Shaw. Not for nothing are these Freddie Hubbard discs his best-remembered from the period.
<p>Later in the decade, Hubbard would also take star turns on better-than-fine acoustic dates co-led by Benny Golson (1987), Kirk Lightsey (1988) and Art Blakey (1989) – all, notably, for labels outside of the U.S.
<p>Still, he kept coming back to fusion. But the subject found Hubbard flip-flopping, as though the next one would be on his terms and the previous ones were on someone else’s terms.
<p>“Everyone thought I was going after the money,” he said. “I’m the type of cat that likes to venture into all kinds of music.” But then he’d continue along these lines: “I know McCoy [Tyner] and Cecil [Taylor] have stuck straight on out with their thing, but my lifestyle is different. I wanna live good.”
<p>While Hubbard hardly cranked out obvious <i>Red Clay</i> (1970) copycats, he did attempt to replicate <i>First Light</i> (1971) a bit more often than the market was willing to bear. Many contemporaneous critics were hostile toward most CTI records. But Hubbard’s CTI releases were held up as the trumpeter’s <i>best</i> recordings, particularly compared to his Columbia discs and these later fusion records.
<p>Freddie Hubbard, whose sense of the market at the dawn of the eighties was probably not as sharp or as attuned as so many of his previous collaborators (consider, say, “Rockit”), he still waxed several albums of worthy music, nominally considered fusion music:
<p><i>Mistral</i> (1981), <i>Splash</i> (1981), <i>Ride Like The Wind</i> (1982), <i>Life Flight</i> (1987) and <i>Times Are Changing</i> (1989).
<p>Without exception, each of these records – covered in the following posts – have at least one or more notable Freddie moments that are well worth cherishing and a perfect fit in “Hubbard’s Cupboard.”
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-70990447932420065702023-08-06T10:28:00.002-04:002023-08-06T18:06:08.602-04:00Freddie Hubbard – "Mistral" (1981)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANCYg8P0U1P-h6VDhbc_aMiJP1kCBvh2xRqvvFtam2N5tu2u2LctNfZpUxvGxH2REgnR8YHanP3IXn0TOVgW7uL3SMT9NRrkL0roEb1Pn8j_4Rd-ibO1tSpjMsYmDRSZPbtXXqpoTjNYZhwFllC0kC8qcMx1HFuI6URssrGlAn_C5KKFZGoIP/s500/fh_mistral.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANCYg8P0U1P-h6VDhbc_aMiJP1kCBvh2xRqvvFtam2N5tu2u2LctNfZpUxvGxH2REgnR8YHanP3IXn0TOVgW7uL3SMT9NRrkL0roEb1Pn8j_4Rd-ibO1tSpjMsYmDRSZPbtXXqpoTjNYZhwFllC0kC8qcMx1HFuI6URssrGlAn_C5KKFZGoIP/s400/fh_mistral.jpg"/></a></div><p><i>Mistral</i> probably derives its title from the cold winterly wind that blew Freddie Hubbard from his major-label perch at Columbia. Recorded over several days in September 1980, <i>Mistral</i> was likely recorded for – and financed by – the Columbia label. The recording was picked up and released a year later by the Japanese East World label and issued in the U.S. by Liberty, home at the time to guitarist Earl Klugh.
<p>Curiously, though, the record is purportedly produced by John Koenig, then head honcho at his father Lester’s revived Contemporary Records. Koenig was responsible for producing the trumpeter’s guest appearances on two terrific records of the period: pianist George Cables’ <i>Cables’ Vision</i> (1980) and fellow CTI veteran Joe Farrell’s <i>Sonic Text</i> (1981). One wonders why <i>this</i> record wasn’t on Contemporary as well.
<p>Joining Hubbard on <i>Mistral</i>’s front line is West Coast jazz legend Art Pepper (also on Contemporary at the time). In their only known recording together, Hubbard and Pepper are linked by pianist George Cables, who was Hubbard’s pianist in the early seventies and Pepper’s pianist in the late seventies. Pepper is not an obvious foil for Hubbard. But he’s no slouch and his warm tone holds its own alongside the leader, particularly when Hubbard is on the flugelhorn.
<p>Cables himself returned to Hubbard’s band after several albums together on CTI and Columbia in the mid-seventies (the two would pair up again on Hubbard’s 1981 acoustic set <i>Back to Birdland</i>).
<p>Perhaps the most notable addition to the line-up is bass wunderkind Stanley Clarke, who was experiencing a burst of his own popularity at the time. Hubbard and Clarke were captured only briefly before this: the latter as guest on the former’s <i>The Love Connection</i> and the former as guest on the latter’s <i>I Wanna Play For You</i> (both 1979).
<p>Trombonist Phil Ranelin returns from <i>Skagly</i> to take a tasty solo on “Bring it Back Home.”
<p><i>Mistral</i> is a solid slice of good fusion jazz, but maybe a bit more of its time than many of Hubbard’s CTI and Columbia albums. It isn’t programmed as strongly as it might have been: opening with the familiar “Sunshine Lady” doesn’t promise nearly as much as the set’s fiery closer, “Bring it Back Home.”
<p>The program is typical for Hubbard during this time, a few originals (at least one burner and a ballad), the requisite standard (in this case, Cole Porter’s “I Love You”) and some band features. Highlights include Hubbard’s terrifically funky “Bring it Back Home” (handily driven by Cables, Clarke and drummer Peter Erskine) and George Cable’s moody “Blue Nights,” which was also recorded with lyrics around the same time for Japanese vocalist Anli Sugano’s <i>Show Case</i>, also on East World.
<p>Hubbard and company are surely at their best, though, on the album’s straight-ahead pieces, “I Love You,” and Hubbard’s “Eclipse,” first heard on his underrated 1970 Atlantic album <i>The Black Angel</i>. Both pieces were the middle tracks of the original vinyl LP’s two sides, landing like the lyrical second movement of a classical concerto. In other words, these two tracks are perfectly positioned on the record.
<p>It seems someone could have tried crafting singles out of the easy funk of “Now I’ve Found You” or Clarke’s smooth-y “Sunshine Lady” (also recorded several months earlier by Clarke for the 1980 CTI all-star date <i>Fuse One</i>). But no one did. For the record, CTI didn’t try to do anything with “Sunshine Lady” either.
<p>”A first-class mainstream jazz album,” said <i>Billboard</i> (September 26, 1981) of <i>Mistral</i> while <i>Cash Box</i> noted that “Hubbard is in a mellow mood on…this smooth ride.” Both comments seem at odds with one another, but both are true. <i>Mistral</i> is evidence of the tightrope many jazz greats were walking at the time. Here, Freddie Hubbard navigates that fine line particularly well.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-81850827110788909162023-08-06T10:26:00.002-04:002023-08-06T18:05:52.424-04:00Freddie Hubbard – "Splash" (1981)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GHafgxIaNK2tchLBNSqJr4NrqJOJ4PN_5ufHEHvYzlS3r7kI0I4dCvqwbixqT4RtvshAwDyDWwHOI-HepKwkeVxy992DyW3lnfYzMwfdvejTtnPM_Xz50q1GN8CpIjDGiRixCSUyaGPApKGWKxa524Dq8uNdwHgdC7nPhuyJx_hNnVHm-mkm/s600/fh_splash.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GHafgxIaNK2tchLBNSqJr4NrqJOJ4PN_5ufHEHvYzlS3r7kI0I4dCvqwbixqT4RtvshAwDyDWwHOI-HepKwkeVxy992DyW3lnfYzMwfdvejTtnPM_Xz50q1GN8CpIjDGiRixCSUyaGPApKGWKxa524Dq8uNdwHgdC7nPhuyJx_hNnVHm-mkm/s400/fh_splash.jpg"/></a></div><p>Hot on the heels of fellow CTI alum Grover Washington, Jr.’s number 2 hit “Just the Two of Us,”
Freddie Hubbard took his own shot at the charts with the much-too maligned and now all-but forgotten <i>Splash</i>.
<p>But instead of going with known hit makers like former CTI phenom Eumir Deodato – who had recently turned Kool and the Gang into a Top 40 act – or Ralph MacDonald and William Salter, the brains behind Washington’s success (and both of whom co-wrote “Rock Me Arms,” for Hubbard’s aforementioned <i>Windjammer</i>), Hubbard oddly opted to go with unknowns who had precious little experience or success in jazz, R&B, pop or wherever these tributaries find a successful sense of confluence.
<p>”I’m producing it,” Hubbard told <i>DownBeat</i> in 1981. “I doubt if you’ll know any of the cats on it though – they don’t have no names. Studio guys.” True to his word, an arsenal of LA session players made this particular <i>Splash</i>. These include keyboardists Clarence McDonald (one of the album’s contractors) and Chester Thompson (from Tower of Power), guitarists David T. Walker and Paul Jackson, Jr. and legendary drummer Jim Keltner.
<p>For better or worse, it’s also his first record with vocalists.
<p><i>Splash</i> is primarily guided by arranger and co-producer Sanifu Al Hall, Jr., a former trombonist with the Ray Charles Orchestra and West Coast studio musician in the seventies (he’s since relocated back to his native Jacksonville, Florida).
<p>While Hubbard was promoting his first post-CTI album <i>High Energy</i> (1974), the trumpeter called Hall to sub for trombonist George Bohannon in Hubbard’s band. Already a fan of the trumpeter, Hall was first struck by Hubbard on J.J. Johnson’s 1961 album <i>J.J., Inc.</i> Hall would later appear on Hubbard’s <i>High Energy</i> follow-up, <i>Liquid Love</i> (1975).
<p>Hall neither got much credit for his session work nor took many headlining gigs but he did arrange Hubbard’s fellow CTI All Star alum Johnny Hammond’s 1977 album <i>Storm Warning</i>.
<p>Hubbard’s first appearance on the Berkeley-based Fantasy label (from which fellow CTI alum Stanley Turrentine had recently departed) is also likely due to Hall, who had recently arranged a single for the label, “(I Don’t Wanna Dance Tonight) I Got Love on My Mind,” by singer and songwriter Marilyn McLeod – who is Alice Coltrane’s sister and the maternal grandmother of the musician, songwriter and producer Stephen Ellison, a.k.a. Flying Lotus.
<p>The program is, admittedly, a mixed bag: more ripple than splash. There is no instrumental soloist other than Hubbard, and surprisingly no saxophone foil. But, of course, the focus here is on the album’s wanna-be single, “You’re Gonna Lose Me,” a feature for the wonderfully gifted vocalist Jeanie Tracy.
<p>Ms. Tracy, who sadly never found her own stardom but would later work with Aretha Franklin, Jeffrey Osborne, Peabo Bryson, Sheena Easton and Van Morrison, was a singer in the great Sylvester’s band at the time (which also included <i>Splash</i> keyboardist Louis Small).
<p>It’s a noble effort, but, of course, it never went anywhere. Hubbard’s requisite solo is as negligible as notable (as was his appearance on Billy Joel’s “Zanzibar”)...but hardly the point of the song. Hubbard would return the favor by appearing on Ms. Tracy’s “I Feel Like Dancing” on her 1982 solo debut <i>Me and You</i>.
<p>Almost the entirety of the rest of the program is what’s worth hearing. It’s certainly “of its time,” with the disco-y title track (with Hubbard on flugelhorn) sounding almost like soundtrack fare, but no less enjoyable even so.
<p>“Mystic Lady,” likewise, recalls the Hubbard-esque “Take Me Home” track from the Bill Conti soundtrack of that year’s James Bond film <i>For Your Eyes Only</i>. This smoothie might have made a better single choice, but such hits as those by Chuck Mangione (“Feels So Good,” 1977) and Herb Alpert (“Rise,” 1979) seemed way back in the rear-view mirror by this point.
<p>Many might appreciate the disco-funk of the all-instrumental “Sister ‘Stine” (as I certainly do). But the disc’s highlight is surely the closer, “Jarri,” a composition credited to Hubbard, Hall and Cynthia Faulkner. If “Jarri” wasn’t a “hit,” it surely deserved a place in Freddie Hubbard’s repertoire.
<p>Something else that never happened.
<p>Apparently, there was enough music recorded at these sessions for a second album. But the utter lack of interest in or attention to <i>Splash</i> prevented any such sequel. It would be interesting, though, to hear what else came out of these sessions.
<p><i>All Music</i>’s Scott Yanow unfairly called <i>Splash</i> one of Hubbard’s “low points” but on the 2011 CD release of the album, the BGP label referred to “[t]he renowned trumpeter’s final album to mix soul and jazz” as a “real gem.”
<p>”<i>Splash</i> is the most commercial thing I’ve ever done,” Freddie Hubbard apparently bragged to <i>DownBeat</i> in 1981…for some reason. Steve Bloom, the interviewer, was unabashedly disappointed: “<i>Splash</i>,” he said, is a poolful [sic] of chlorinated funk-jazz.”
<p>Fantasy would later capture Hubbard – in straight-ahead mode – with saxophonist Joe Henderson and vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson, at a November 1981 club date, issued over three records: <i>Keystone Bop</i> (1982), <i>A Little Night Music</i> (1983) and <i>Freddie Hubbard Classics</i> (1984). These were later compiled over two CDs: <i>Keystone Bop: Sunday Night>/i> (1994) and <i>Keystone Bop: Vol. 2 Friday/Saturday</i> (1996).
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-11441946237458903172023-08-06T10:23:00.004-04:002023-08-06T18:05:36.810-04:00Freddie Hubbard – "Ride Like The Wind" (1982)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq_qS8I6VCD2NZ9sR18EbHyv45X9rVeThUqQi2PiT_ky4KVSh9LBK3_Gj50Hn7gJzwyT5CyHdXHZey8mVIRICUK38YR89jrNAc1LXqJVlvjd6CA43UmPOV3VFiMxW-ZT8mattoLZYs8zy6zI1l2Vpcy-_HUYs8Fjcm9DxamWtjgZB4Oh__kRCn/s599/hub4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq_qS8I6VCD2NZ9sR18EbHyv45X9rVeThUqQi2PiT_ky4KVSh9LBK3_Gj50Hn7gJzwyT5CyHdXHZey8mVIRICUK38YR89jrNAc1LXqJVlvjd6CA43UmPOV3VFiMxW-ZT8mattoLZYs8zy6zI1l2Vpcy-_HUYs8Fjcm9DxamWtjgZB4Oh__kRCn/s400/hub4.jpg"/></a></div><p>In 1981, the music-biz publication <i>Cash Box</i> hinted that producer Michael Cuscuna was planning a collaborative LP between trumpeters Freddie Hubbard and Woody Shaw on former Columbia head honcho Bruce Lundvall’s new Elektra jazz label (9/12/81).
<p>That label eventually evolved in to the short-lived but especially classy Elektra-Musician Records, briefly home to some of the most notable jazz of the early eighties and peopled by many former Columbia jazz stars like Dexter Gordon, Eric Gale and Billy Cobham.
<p>The rumored Hubbard-Shaw collaboration didn’t happen until 1985 – for the revived Blue Note label (which, by then, Lundvall had moved to oversee). What came out instead was Shaw’s straight-ahead <i>Master of the Art</i>, with guest star Bobby Hutcherson (also both former Columbia artists), and Hubbard’s surprising crossover set, <i>Ride Like the Wind</i>.
<p>The surprise wasn’t another Freddie Hubbard crossover record, but the appearance of a crossover set on a label that was, for the most part, either staunchly “straight ahead” or more progressive. Given the timing of the recording (June 1981), it seems entirely likely that this particularly expensive record was financed by and intended for another label altogether in a deal that somehow fell through.
<p>It’s easy enough to assume that Lundvall picked up the masters to put out a brand-name record on his newly-launched Elektra Musician label.
<p>This was the trumpeter’s first foray in to orchestrated jazz since <i>The Love Connection</i> (1979), an album Hubbard called “overproduced” in 1981 – precisely around the same time he was recording <i>Ride Like the Wind</i>. But it’s more like a West Coast <i>Windjammer</i>, down to the dual recent Top 20 covers and the <i>wind</i> on both covers blowing Hubtones’s bespoke scarves.
<p>Released in March 1982, only several months after <i>Splash</i>, <i>Ride Like the Wind</i> pairs Hubbard with composer and arranger Allyn Ferguson, a name not particularly well-known in jazz or pop in the early eighties.
<p>Ferguson’s work in jazz included brief collaborations with Stan Kenton (whose 1965 Ferguson-penned piece “Passacaglia and Fugue” features several of the same musicians heard here), Buddy Rich and Sarah Vaughan. He also served an extended stint as Johnny Mathis’s arranger in the sixties.
<p>Much of Ferguson’s work, though, is as soundtrack composer for many TV series and movies, most notably at the time, as music director for TV’s “Charlie’s Angels” (1976-81) and “Barney Miller” (1975-82). His “Charlie’s Angels” theme is probably his best-known piece.
<p>Here, Hubbard and Ferguson cover Kenny Loggins’s “This is It” (1979) and Christopher Cross’s “Ride Like the Wind” (1980, and also featuring this session’s trumpeter Chuck Findley), both of which surprisingly translate well as instrumentals. Edited versions of both tunes were issued as a promotional single, with “This is It” as the a-side. Presumably, it didn’t get picked up by many radio stations.
<p>Ferguson contributes three peppy, if mostly soundtrack-y originals, the cleverly titled “Hubbard’s Cupboard,” the nicely moody “Condition Alpha” and the storyboarded “Two Moods for Freddie.” While “Condition Alpha” is the record’s stand-out piece, “Two Moods” is notable for trombonist Bill Watrous’s sole – and welcome – appearance on the disc.
<p>Ferguson and Hubbard deliver an incisive and funky take on Joe Zawinul’s “Birdland.” Already nicely covered elsewhere by Stanley Turrentine and Maynard Ferguson, this “Birdland” has an edge that recalls Bob James’s gospel piano breaks on Hubbard’s earlier cover of “Dream Weaver.”
<p>Hubbard’s always lovely “Brigitte,” named for his wife and first appearing on his 1973 CTI album <i>Keep Your Soul Together</i>, gets a bit soapy here – sounding as though it belongs on a James Bond soundtrack of the period.
<p>Ultimately, <i>Ride Like the Wind</i> is like the evening breeze: pleasant, peaceful, calm and cool. And probably too much of a good thing. Like the breeze, you fail to even notice it after a while.
<p>Despite saxophonist Bud Shank’s presence in the orchestra, Freddie Hubbard is the primary soloist throughout, with occasional tasty electric piano solos by Bill Mays. Hubbard delivers the goods, but he could be playing anything with anybody here. Nothing stands out.
<p>“Hubbard displays…strong chops,” wrote <i>Billboard</i> at the time, “but…offers less warmth on <i>Ride Like The Wind</i>, a sleek but somewhat impersonal array of pop hits given supercharged string and horn charts by Allyn Ferguson. Cut live by Soundstream's two-channel digital system, the disk gives us plenty of Abe Laboriel's funky bass and Bill Maxwell's dance rhythms on drums. What it lacks is Hubbard's sense of discovery on his recent acoustic sets, but fusion fans will still relish its sonics.” (February 27, 1982)
<p>Remarkably, for the period, the <i>Wind</i> recording sessions were filmed for the Sony VHS videotape release called <i>Freddie Hubbard – Studiolive</i>. Originally released in 1981 as part of Sony’s “Video LP” video cassettes, the entire 59-minute LP program is easily viewed now on YouTube.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-42131180065721891652023-08-06T10:22:00.003-04:002023-08-06T18:05:15.667-04:00Freddie Hubbard – "Life Flight" (1987)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DZb7eWURsTqvpxL8W_EJKcW6ECBfKDIPQWNjGMYjmIiW1nAJ3TM2-LDpWXCApdIEwD0-dnf968MkBlRqDPCgQY14eZmkClBDmWzx4X4V4DO9liD2T4Ixef1H7MQmKFAd0FK6hKrEpqCcodSfYMWspbZZeZJa-y_yVvZtin6o7wCRtQuhLXAT/s600/hub5.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DZb7eWURsTqvpxL8W_EJKcW6ECBfKDIPQWNjGMYjmIiW1nAJ3TM2-LDpWXCApdIEwD0-dnf968MkBlRqDPCgQY14eZmkClBDmWzx4X4V4DO9liD2T4Ixef1H7MQmKFAd0FK6hKrEpqCcodSfYMWspbZZeZJa-y_yVvZtin6o7wCRtQuhLXAT/s400/hub5.jpg"/></a></div><p><i>Veteran trumpeter cuts a groove midway between his old Blue Note and CTI sessions on this slick album. Jazz radio will likely pick up on side one, featuring a session with guests Stanley Turrentine and George Benson. Unchallenging but commercially sure-fire.</i> - Billboard
<p>There’s absolutely nothing “midway” or “sure-fire” about this schizophrenic record.
<p>Released in August 1987, <i>Life Flight</i> is Freddie Hubbard’s first solo outing on the storied Blue Note label since 1965. Its split personality pits anonymous electric funk on side one of the original vinyl LP (his first dive down this rabbit hole in a full five years) with two strong signature Hubbard compositions on side two, delivered by an acoustic quintet in straight-ahead fashion.
<p>Both groups feature keyboardist Larry Willis, who, surprisingly, had only previously recorded with Hubbard on a 1981 Jimmy Cobb disc, and drummer and fellow-CTI accolade Idris Muhammad, who first factored with Hubbard on George Benson’s 1969 album <i>The Other Side of Abbey Road</i>.
<p>Side one is comprised of two longish but bland funk-blues tunes that would have <i>never</i> made the cut on any CTI record. They do, however, boast the comfortable familiarity of the expert noodling by the leader and his former CTI All Stars compatriots, saxophonist Stanley Turrentine and guitarist George Benson.
<p>These pieces include the oddly-titled almost-melody “Battlescar Galorica,” co-written by Eddie “Gip” Noble (best known as co-writer of Teddy Pendergrass’s “Love T.K.O.”) and George Johnson of the Brothers Johnson, and the electric blues riff “A Saint’s Homecoming Song.” The latter piece is credited solely to Johnson, who had previously “played” with Hubbard on Steve Arrington’s 1985 dance hit “Feel So Real.” Although the soloists are, as ever, a joy to hear, neither of these tracks will lodge in anyone’s memory.
<p>For whatever reason, the guitarist George “Lightnin’ Licks” Johnson wasn’t invited to play here: probably to keep a light on Benson. But while none of this fusion side makes much sense, it’s easy to assume more was recorded than appears here. But if this was the best of what was recorded during the electric sessions, we probably don’t need to hear much more.
<p>Benson and Turrentine sadly disappear from side two and exceptional tenor saxophonist Ralph Moore steps in for the record’s far-superior acoustic second side.
<p>The 22 minutes of this side are the only signs of <i>life</i> or <i>flight</i> here. These two pieces – “The Melting Pot” and “Life Flight,” both Hubbard compositions – would have found favor on any one of Hubbard’s CTI, Columbia, Atlantic or Blue Note records.
<p>Here, Hubbard steps up as composer – and his playing and soloing take on meaningful prowess, something rather lacking on too many of his fusion recordings of the period. So does the playing of pianist Larry Willis and bassist Rufus Reid. These pieces are not only worthy of Hubbard but Blue Note as well.
<p>Interesting, though, to see Freddie pictured on the then-mod Italian couch here, as it updates or recalls his appearance 14 years earlier on Pete Turner’s then-hip “lips” couch, as pictured on the cover of the 1973 CTI album <i>Keep Your Soul Together</i>.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-36219789745276065942023-08-06T10:20:00.004-04:002023-08-06T18:14:44.849-04:00Freddie Hubbard – "Times Are Changing" (1989)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjBFvmuLpLTExeRuWBDVmoLldo_thaMXWv-8_pvodwkcMbs7nhkHKmcwzdtkoChf5ZE55yo4vtzO81HVOVIfYtavBRRBxb00bfFXLTPyOKTPbSNRQERji10psM8SZhszmyYQG6x1fiudhRoYoqfnwVR6pG5Rt5QnqorKZOj4dBoAimvffblqo/s600/hub6.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjBFvmuLpLTExeRuWBDVmoLldo_thaMXWv-8_pvodwkcMbs7nhkHKmcwzdtkoChf5ZE55yo4vtzO81HVOVIfYtavBRRBxb00bfFXLTPyOKTPbSNRQERji10psM8SZhszmyYQG6x1fiudhRoYoqfnwVR6pG5Rt5QnqorKZOj4dBoAimvffblqo/s400/hub6.jpg"/></a></div><p>”For his Blue Note encore,” reported <i>Billboard</i> magazine on November 7, 1987, “Hubbard wants to do a ‘big production record,’ similar to the early '70s CTI work – like <i>First Light</i> and <i>Red Clay</i> – that enhanced his following. But to do so, the trumpeter says he'll need a bigger budget than he had for <i>Life Flight</i>.
<p>”The producer who best captured this type of sound, says Hubbard, was CTI maven Creed Taylor, although he thinks Bob James came close with <i>Windjammer</i>. He'd like to book Herbie Hancock to run the board for his next date, but says Hancock's schedule may be too crowded.”
<p>On <i>Times Are Changing</i>, the last major-label release during his lifetime, Freddie Hubbard was unable to secure the services or the aid of Creed Taylor, Bob James or even Herbie Hancock. He didn’t get to do a “big production record” either – something that synthesizers made wildly unfashionable at this point.
<p>Odder, still, is the strange delay that it took Hubbard to get out his desired <i>Life Flight</i> follow-up. This suggests there was not much agreement about either what this disc should be or how much money Blue Note would fork over for this sort of record.
<p>The program and the production here is largely overseen by keyboardist and songwriter Todd Cochran, much in the way Marcus Miller was then overseeing such Miles Davis recordings as <i>Tutu</i> (1986) and <i>Music from Siesta</i> (1987). Basically, the nominal leader drops his signature tones over top already-crafted grooves and then it goes to market.
<p>Todd Cochran started his career as a teenager in John Handy’s group and made a name for himself with Bobby Hutcherson (check out the 1971 disc <i>Head On</i>). Cochran recorded two of his own albums as Bayeté for Prestige in the early seventies, memorably waxing the song “Free Angela,” which would later get covered by Santana.
<p>Cochran would go on to form the pop-rock band Automatic Man, a short-lived venture he co-founded with drummer and former Santana co-founder Michael Shrieve. Cochran went on to be a session player and songwriter for sessions by Stanley Clarke, Stanley Turrentine, Stix Hooper and many others.
<p>He had previously worked with Hubbard on Stanley Clarke’s “Together Again,” from the bassist’s 1979 album <i>I Wanna Play for You</i>. He also played on the title song to CTI’s Fuse One sequel <i>Silk</i> (1981), again with Clarke.
<p>Hardly surprising then that Cochran brought some of his friends along for this date, including Michael Shrieve on percussion, Stix Hooper on drums (“Spanish Rose,” “Times ‘R Changin”) and Stanley Clarke on bass (“Spanish Rose”).
<p>Also present throughout is percussionist Munyungo (here as “Munyango”) Jackson, a frequent Cochran associate. Jackson and Hubbard had recently appeared together on Norman Connors’s 1988 “Samba for Maria” and the percussionist was on the 1980 Connors album <i>Take it to the Limit</i>, where Hubbard is the featured soloist on the terrific instrumental cover of Steely Dan’s “Black Cow.”
<p>This disc’s opener, ”Spanish Rose,” is a pleasant, breezy confection that finds Hubbard seemingly comfortable in a south-of-the-border smooth-jazz mode. Clarke and Hooper give the piece a real jazz vibe that is mostly missing elsewhere here.
<p>Things get even smoother on the very eighties-esque “Back to Lovin’ Again,” a piece that sounds as though it could have been on any direct-to-video movie soundtrack of the period. Hubbard’s familiar elegance keeps things interesting, but neither of these pieces have the memorable punch of a typical Hubbard composition. Think “Red Clay,” “Povo” or even “Skagly.”
<p>The Spanish flair continues on “Corazon Amplio (A Song for Bert),” a lovely cover of Sting’s eminently coverable “Fragile,” and the longish “Sabrosa.” Enjoyable and listenable as each of these may well be, all these tracks sound as though they are competing for spots on the Miles Davis/Marcus Miller <i>Siesta</i> soundtrack.
<p>The evocative “Sabrosa” is by trumpeter Tex Allen (Gil Evans, Vincent Herring), who also contributed music to a 1981 Jimmy Cobb album featuring Hubbard. Saxophonist Vincent Herring – who would later join Hubbard’s band and appears on Hubbard’s <i>Bolivia</i>(1991) and <i>MMTC</i> (1995) – also covered “Sabrosa” on his 1995 album <i>Don’t Let it Go</i>.
<p>Remarkably, for all the pop turns here, Blue Note took no chances with <i>Times Are Changing</i>. Several wannabe 45s are heard here, but no singles were ever issued.
<p>Take, for example, “Was She Really There.” This peculiar number gets a vocal turn from then-frequent GRP vocalist Phil Perry, with a muted Hubbard adding sugary squiggles. To be sure, it’s not your average pop confectionary. One wonders who thought it might be.
<p>It’s credited to the mysterious “G.F. Miely,” who turns out to be San Franscisco-based pianist and composer George Mullally. He recorded a few albums in the early eighties credited to “George M’Lely.” Hardly radio-friendly, “Was She Really There” may well have made a better instrumental – for a different album. It’s hard to tell.
<p>That Blue Note translated this disc’s title track into common English from its otherwise Prince-ly derivation shows either how little they were behind the whole project or how much they just didn’t get any of it.
<p>Unfortunately, the song “Times ‘R Changin” is little better than anonymous mid-eighties electro-funk: a knock-off of more interesting fare such as “Rockit” (1983), “Close (To The Edit)” (1984) or an instrumental outtake from Prince’s similarly titled <i>Sign “O” The Times</i> (1987).
<p>”Trumpet vet delivers the ‘production record’ he has promised for two years,” wrote <i>Billboard</i> in May 1989, upon the album’s release. “Though his track record on crossover attempts has been spotty, early radio response puts this in the win column.” (Initially, this was true. But while the record reached a fairly respectable number 19 on the magazine’s Contemporary Jazz Albums chart, Hubbard’s previous effort, <i>Life Flight</i>, hit higher, reaching number 13 on that very same chart.)
<p>”Keyboardist Cochran,” continued <i>Billboard</i>, “has written what may be Hubbard's smoothest fusion effort since his CTI days.” Whoever wrote that obviously hadn’t really listened to (or liked) Freddie Hubbard’s CTI records – or heard <i>any</i> of the studio records Hubbard waxed in the subsequent fifteen years.
<p>Like the earlier <i>Ride Like the Wind</i>, <I>Times Are Changing</i> is more enjoyable than memorable. Hubbard’s playing throughout is on point, but he’s definitely coasting on autopilot here, more or less noodling over top someone else’s music.
<p>If times were changing, then <i>Times Are Changing</i> was probably more backward glance than forward vision.
<p>After this, Freddie Hubbard never made another so-called “production record.” Indeed, health problems and a serious lip injury curtailed much of his ability to record in any situation as prodigiously as he previously had.
<p>The few studio recordings Hubbard waxed hereafter were all straight ahead – with several guest appearances on other artist’s hip-hop records – and, in most cases, contain little of the energy or enthusiasm he displayed on the records covered here.
<p>I, for one, am glad for these records Freddie Hubbard made. I love each and every one. I could only wish this great player, bandmate and composer could have found a better way to navigate his path to a crossover success that likely never happened to his own personal satisfaction.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-37666987286463734812023-07-22T10:42:00.007-04:002023-08-06T18:10:21.215-04:00Gil Evans Paris Workshop / Laurent Cugny – "Spoonful" (2017)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeUoPSBP1E7spnyZueOxlxpk6HuNY5I4KXeKuC56h5BW4WsCGKAPmat3RHW17iexNZfG8qtMdaTXqBF6kUKuGmasGD8grskX8IjKKFfRlswnqP05uP8MLYD0OVY_7KOOPEmsVCQKS-hIMuDpw3cnl9mQWkB159VECC5o98p6vP10lgFf_dA1Q4/s600/cugny3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeUoPSBP1E7spnyZueOxlxpk6HuNY5I4KXeKuC56h5BW4WsCGKAPmat3RHW17iexNZfG8qtMdaTXqBF6kUKuGmasGD8grskX8IjKKFfRlswnqP05uP8MLYD0OVY_7KOOPEmsVCQKS-hIMuDpw3cnl9mQWkB159VECC5o98p6vP10lgFf_dA1Q4/s400/cugny3.jpg"/></a></div><p><b><i>I recently received an email message from the Spanish Fresh Sound Records listing</i> Spoonful <i>as a new release. Only after I ordered it did I learn this marvelous double-disc set was issued way back in 2017. Still, it was new to me and well worth the effort to get.</i></b>
<p>Why name a big band after Gil Evans? French pianist, composer, arranger and bandleader Laurent Cugny puts it simply: “Pleasure of sound, of harmony, of melody, of form.” Indeed, Gil Evans (1912-88) had a language all his own. Maybe several languages. And each were pure pleasure.
<p>In addition to being a musician and bandleader, Cugny is also a professor of music and musicology at Sorbonne Université. He is also the author of a number of significant jazz-related books, notably <i>Las Vegas Tango: Un vie de Gil Evans</i> (1989) and <i>Électrique Miles Davis, 1968-1975</i> (1993), neither of which were ever translated in to English.
<p>Cugny’s books available in English include the well-regarded reference texts <i>Analysis of Jazz</i> (2019) and <i>Eurojazzland</i> (2012), on which he served as a contributor and coeditor.
<p>Laurent Cugny (b. 1955) met Evans in the mid-eighties when the younger man was writing what turned out to be the first book published about the jazz legend, best known then – and probably still today – for his magnificent work with Miles Davis. (At the time, Maria Schneider, now a revered leader of her own orchestra, was more than a protégé: she, too, was actively working with Evans.)
<p>In 1987, Cugny invited Evans to travel to Europe to play his music with the French bandleader’s Big Band Lumiere. They played 21 dates in Europe and recorded enough music to fill two discs, <i>Rhythm-a-Ning</i> (1988) and <i>Golden Hair</i> (1989).
<p>Both of these discs were studio recordings (captured over several days in November 1987), a real rarity for Evans at this point in his recording career – and both loom large as some of Evans’s best late-period work. Much of the reason for these discs’ artistic success is due, in large part, to Laurent Cugny himself.
<p>”My idea at the time,” writes Cugny in this disc’s liner notes, “was…to rebalance somewhat the equilibrium between writing and improvisation, which, to my taste, too often went towards improvisation in his groups in his later style.”
<p>Cugny, who cites his own favored model of the maestro’s, the superb 1972 album <i>Masabumi Kikuchi + Gil Evans</i>, continues to remain fond of Gil Evans – in his own music as well as the wide-ranging repertoire of Evans himself.
<p>Cugny continues to work actively in France, and has worked with such Americans (in Paris) as Abbey Lincoln, Lucky Peterson and Rhoda Scott.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG11Xe-wq0m4HHMcx7R_IO7lwLJwCTCgL9PrnOfZ2yvUyVcaGkBm9riSSFFeLtxZ0pkSTxC1nbvt_qaghHrdMfwr8ckAZvJOrs2H8p_yQIM6ZadQ4EBjR_Na1mx9GhFRHaYkiNMbOfrWrJFGhEYNFjXxYYlNrL4E5RtVG8xNo34ufmuJxjQ9aj/s225/cugny1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG11Xe-wq0m4HHMcx7R_IO7lwLJwCTCgL9PrnOfZ2yvUyVcaGkBm9riSSFFeLtxZ0pkSTxC1nbvt_qaghHrdMfwr8ckAZvJOrs2H8p_yQIM6ZadQ4EBjR_Na1mx9GhFRHaYkiNMbOfrWrJFGhEYNFjXxYYlNrL4E5RtVG8xNo34ufmuJxjQ9aj/s320/cugny1.jpg"/></a></div><p>In what is – at least, to date – the lone GEPW project, Cugny manages to balance the acoustic and electric Evans and the decades-length Evans-like sound in a 16-piece band, with electric guitar and Fender Rhodes mixing and matching with French horns, tuba, trumpet and saxophone.
<p>This remarkable double-disc set from 2017 features one disc devoted to the music of Laurent Cugny, titled “La vie facile” (The Easy Life) and another to the music of Gil Evans titled “Time of the Barracudas.” Each holds many secrets, only some of which I will reveal here.
<p>Cugny bolts out of the gate, running with the banger that is “Krikor.” Given the gaming craftsmanship and the crafty gamesmanship at play here, it’s likely the song is named for the Brazilian chess grandmaster Krikor Mekhitarian. The solos may well be beside the point (the clever writing is what is most memorable here), but tenor player Adrien Sanchez takes solo honors, while Cugny offers up an impressionistic Gil Evans-like piano “solo” that gives the clever piece a welcome moody and contemplative vigor that sixties-era Evans would have appreciated.
<p>The set progresses beautifully with a gorgeous cover of Milton Nascimento’s “Lillia,” spotlighting the ethereal and evocative guitar work of Marc-Antoine Perrio and a Steve Lacy-meets-Wayne Shorter soprano solo by Martin Guerpin (“Lilia” is best known from Wayne Shorter’s 1975 album with Nascimento, <i>Native Dancer</i>).
<p>Also of note are Cugny’s lively, loping and lovely “Liviore,” the dreamy “La vie facile” and GEPW French Horn player Victor Michaud’s compelling “Louisville,” featuring a haunting trombone solo by Bastien Ballaz. “Louisville” harks to or recalls, to this listener, the dramatic and emotional story-like gravitas of so much of Snarky Puppy’s work. (I hear a little Hugh Masekela – or maybe Jonas Gwangwa – here too.)
<p>One of the nicest surprises on this part of the program is the Gershwin classic “My Man’s Gone Now.”
<p>You’d think this properly belongs on the Gil Evans portion of the set. But not the way Cugny handles it. Here, Cugny reframes the <i>Porgy and Bess</i> piece in the Miles mode of David Crosby’s “Guinnevere” – which Cugny previously tapped for his own “Lady, Like Yours” (from the terrific 1991 disc <i>Santander</i>). A dash of “Las Vegas Tango” informs as well – as though delivered by Henry Mancini.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQVWTD4RU2cimfFu2uR0HFtVAY8vAzHXU4bEZMxjug_sPlFtWKkY5Mwg6HKxDJurjzPvofOV2NKwGobaiPocNWkotL1oZoBYs4ye8NXtUqj83Mb0YBYGXsWI70uyfZAmX1__FzU177R5P_LWUnZrzOcy6eI8vLLDTifAb3vwWJsr3bOpUqsmF/s1280/cugny2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQVWTD4RU2cimfFu2uR0HFtVAY8vAzHXU4bEZMxjug_sPlFtWKkY5Mwg6HKxDJurjzPvofOV2NKwGobaiPocNWkotL1oZoBYs4ye8NXtUqj83Mb0YBYGXsWI70uyfZAmX1__FzU177R5P_LWUnZrzOcy6eI8vLLDTifAb3vwWJsr3bOpUqsmF/s400/cugny2.jpg"/></a></div><p>With a few exceptions, the disc devoted to the music – or, more specifically, the repertoire – of Gil Evans, dubbed here “Time of the Barracudas,” falls just below the high bar set by “La vie Facile” and, in some respects, the earlier discs Cugny waxed with Evans, too.
<p>Cugny covers a great swath of Evans’s music – maybe too great. The set spans Evans material from the fifties (“King Porter Stomp,” “Bud and Bird”) to the eighties (“London” and the Mingus covers), with the best material coming from somewhere in between. To be fair, though, the two extremes in Evans’s career noted here surprisingly seem to have much more in common than not.
<p>Still, rousing as it is, the opener, “King Porter Stomp,” is a bit of a jolt. It’s delivered with great verve and Cugny’s typical wit but seems only peripherally Evans-ish. Jelly Roll Morton’s original was first “interpreted” by Evans on his 1958 album <i>New Bottle, Old Wine</i>. It wasn’t so much a feature for Evans (or even his writing) as much as it was a showpiece for saxophonist Cannonball Adderley, who swings the hell out of the tune.
<p>Here, alto player Antonin-Tri Hoang gives it his all, but he still can’t fit it in to what this listener considers Evans country. (To be fair, Evans revisited the tune again in 1975, a few months <i>before</i> Adderley’s untimely death, where it was a feature for David Sanborn.)
<p>But if opening with “King Porter Stomp” seems a bit off, the remaining program is beautifully balanced with alternating Cugny duets, all in the ever-so brief one-to-two-minute range: the underrated “Sunken Treasure” (with Pierrio), “Zee Zee” (with Quentin Ghomari), “Orange was the Color of Her Dress, Then Silk Blues” (with Martin Guerpin) and two versions of “The Barbara Song” (one with Bastien Ballaz and another with Cugny on dueling keyboards).
<p>With these pieces, Cugny reveals precisely how Evans could turn mere sketches into full-fledged paintings. But on the longer pieces, Cugny expertly turns Evans’s one-act plays in to three-act theater.
<p>This is most evident on the haunting and hypnotic 15-minute take of Willie Dixon’s “Spoonful.” While certainly this disc’s finest moment, the otherwise wonderful tune has a troubled provenance in Evans’s world.
<p>Originally made famous by Howlin’ Wolf in 1960, ”Spoonful” was recorded by Evans in 1964 but not issued at the time. When a nine-and-a-half-minute edit of the song was first issued in 1974, Evans was unhappy about its release. Presumably, he was displeased with the performance but perhaps he was more upset about the edit. The song was, however, restored to its original near 14-minute glory – to Evans’s apparent satisfaction – for the 1988 CD release of <i>The Individualism of Gil Evans</i>.
<p>Cugny joyfully extends Evans’s framework on “Spoonful” while juicy solos are served up by Marc-Antoine Perrio on guitar, Quentin Ghomari on trumpet, Léo Pellet on trombone and Antonin-Tri Hoang on alto sax.
<p>“Spoonful” is undoubtedly <i>Spoonful</i>’s “La Nevada” or “Las Vegas Tango” moment, two Evans classics curiously missing here – even as Cugny boasts in his liner notes of getting Evans to perform “La Nevada” during their time together, a song Evans hadn’t performed since recording it on <i>Out of the Cool</i> in 1960.
<p>Additional highlights of this Evans-Cugny collaboration include the perfectly evocative “Time of the Barracudas,” with Adrien Sanchez on tenor sax, Charles Mingus’s always delightful “Boogie Stop Shuffle” (which Evans arranged, late in his career, for the soundtrack to the 1986 film <i>Absolute Beginners</i>) and the bravura “Blues in Orbit,” with solos by Miles-ish Brice Moscardini on trumpet and Eric Dolphy-esque Jean-Philippe Scali on bass clarinet.
<p>Kudos, too, to Cugny for the New Orleans lilt he brings to ”Bud and Bird,” topped by infectious solos by Bastien Ballaz on trombone and Quentin Ghomari on trumpet.
<p>If the “Time of the Barracudas” disc isn’t as satisfying as “La vie facile,” it is due, perhaps, to the former’s “big band” sound overpowering its more ethereal and orchestral moments, the sound Cugny absolutely masters on the latter disc. But those brief interludes on “Barracudas” are exquisite and make for essential listening even so.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi78KPDX7iX-ZKocdsqCQgjbO2iUGp_c-5_TmvIyvhr4Dh6lfhdu-JpjmYoetNn4zmFCu75FrwHXbHCcIeFmd4VYjJMFyEoI9Zc-NACeIrT1e7kLjUf5zoEaChTcsZVcqKpv4PXkHoTvBt_Zech1v3WWPJQPgOJJOLF7TPx_edaRwuqxkv7G6u/s575/cugny4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="575" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi78KPDX7iX-ZKocdsqCQgjbO2iUGp_c-5_TmvIyvhr4Dh6lfhdu-JpjmYoetNn4zmFCu75FrwHXbHCcIeFmd4VYjJMFyEoI9Zc-NACeIrT1e7kLjUf5zoEaChTcsZVcqKpv4PXkHoTvBt_Zech1v3WWPJQPgOJJOLF7TPx_edaRwuqxkv7G6u/s400/cugny4.jpg"/></a></div><p>More recently, Cugny has put out the electrifying CD <i>Zeitgeist</i> (2023) with a group he calls the Laurent Cugny Tentet, which also includes GEPW trumpeter Quentin Ghomari.
<p>This is a superb fusion fest that mines <i>Bitches Brew</i>-era Miles, shaped and grooved by Cugny’s logic and love for electric Miles, ca. 1969 to 1975. There, he offers scintillating covers of The Beatles’ “I Want You” and Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock” (like <i>Bitches Brew</i>, postcards from 1969) as well as an electric Milesian cover of Cugny’s “Liviore” (also on the GEPW disc).
<p><i>Zeitgeist</i> also offers an impressively electric take on Ellington’s “Mood Indigo” and an unexpected cover of Miles Davis’s “Mr. Foster,” recorded by the trumpeter in 1973 but not released until 2007 on <i>The Complete On the Corner Sessions</i> box set (it also serves as the title track to the titular drummer Al Foster’s 1979 Japanese album). Like <i>Spoonful</i>, <i>Zeitgeist</i> is well worth exploring.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-25987772714925530562023-07-19T20:21:00.003-04:002023-08-06T18:07:55.213-04:00Cubana la Guantanamera. Nueva versión.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="41RoFlAvjcQ" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/41RoFlAvjcQ"></iframe></div>Wow! So beautiful, so perfect. No words required.Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-9676141268186877592023-07-08T20:04:00.000-04:002023-07-08T20:04:42.048-04:00George Freeman – “The Good Life” (2023)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSs2d-InLWuLCjAsPLG5RrZfwRMLx3_hF8eDN-mg3hNczlhgRsfWI8VkfR7817BHIKjDRMztCpoGi0FmCn0m0dFWxs3S-smsiOELv0qtYqGS4poCiJ1ERlF6U-pOMcWjX465tRxIhZWBRrIRiHtgGjwtHE-auPAbDikc08JRVgZq2M4X2XS7g/s1433/george1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="1433" data-original-width="1433" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSs2d-InLWuLCjAsPLG5RrZfwRMLx3_hF8eDN-mg3hNczlhgRsfWI8VkfR7817BHIKjDRMztCpoGi0FmCn0m0dFWxs3S-smsiOELv0qtYqGS4poCiJ1ERlF6U-pOMcWjX465tRxIhZWBRrIRiHtgGjwtHE-auPAbDikc08JRVgZq2M4X2XS7g/s400/george1.jpg"/></a></div><p>In a recording career that spans nearly eight decades, guitarist George Freeman (b. 1927) can be heard on only a handful of discs: some by others and fewer yet by Freeman himself.
<p>One reason for this is that Freeman wasn’t often credited on his sessions for others (particularly in the forties and the fifties). Another reason is that Freeman always went back home to Chicago when he got tired of gigging to be with family and occasionally lead a trio of his own.
<p>George Freeman, brother of Von and uncle to Chico, has played with sax greats Charlie Parker, Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt. He’s traveled the R&B circuit with Sil Austin and Jackie Wilson and done his time in the organ combos of Wild Bill Davis, Richard “Groove” Holmes and Jimmy McGriff.
<p>While George Freeman was never as prolifically recorded as other guitarists of his generation – say, Joe Pass or Kenny Burrell – the sound he put out on guitar was unlike anything heard before or since. His tone could be pretty, but often raw and aggressive. It’s the sound of feeling. Also, his phrasing could be melodic, but charges more like a leader on a horn than a section mate who takes a solo.
<p>"There is virtually no precedent,” wrote tenor saxophonist, bandleader, educator, scholar, author and <i>The Good Life</i> producer Loren Schoenberg in his notes to a 1998 Charlie Parker compilation, “for the outrageously experimental music that George Freeman creates…[His playing] is unlike anything I have ever heard, and seems much closer to what John Scofield and Bill Frisell have brought to the jazz guitar in the '90s than to anything from his own contemporaries.”
<p>In other words, once you hear George Freeman, you pay attention – as though a whole new sound and groove had taken over and a song becomes immediately transformed. The music takes on a totally new meaning and requires a whole new way of hearing.
<p>Even an organ trio is amped up by Freeman’s presence. Check out the way he steals the show and shreds – before it was even a thing – on Jimmy McGriff’s “Freedom Suite (Part 2)” or Groove Holmes’ “Licks a Plenty” (both 1973, although Freeman can be heard to superb effect on the 1961 version of the latter tune with Ben Webster). On that latter recording, Freeman brings out a whole new meaning to the titles “Out of Nowhere” and “The Squirrel” as well.
<p>Consider, too, the remarkably sizzling and scintillating “Jug Eyes” and the guitarist’s own “The Black Cat” from saxophonist Gene Ammons’ 1971 album <i>The Black Cat!</i>. And, of course, there is the psychedelic acid-jazz classic “The Bump” from Freeman’s 1973 rarity <i>Franticdiagnosis</i>.
<p>Once you hear George Freeman, you’ll want to hear more.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhDtLpPMnXNM3WwHpBx_vZ7t4Ibu1U-K7FVr06hRb7S1fgUHkOZycZ0wy08uQO1fFdYU9Qeb1bbhTWVaTCbmJAK3c5JQkUQwLimRowYOizfs04kkJtV7ZAdS3bGq43THPfpa-KMjaG6GyiHvKfRACi9yPoq2jVdN7wWIRGjRNOmSvkrerpUGN/s599/george4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhDtLpPMnXNM3WwHpBx_vZ7t4Ibu1U-K7FVr06hRb7S1fgUHkOZycZ0wy08uQO1fFdYU9Qeb1bbhTWVaTCbmJAK3c5JQkUQwLimRowYOizfs04kkJtV7ZAdS3bGq43THPfpa-KMjaG6GyiHvKfRACi9yPoq2jVdN7wWIRGjRNOmSvkrerpUGN/s400/george4.jpg"/></a></div><p>That brings us to <i>The Good Life</i>, which, by my count, is only George Freeman’s twelfth album as a leader. To celebrate his 95th birthday in 2022, George convened two trios: one in May with bassist Christian McBride and drummer Carl Allen and another in June with organist Joey DeFrancesco and drummer Lewis Nash.
<p>Surprisingly, or maybe not, Freeman had never worked with either McBride or DeFrancesco, yet, unfortunately, <i>The Good Life</i> seems to be the organ player’s final recording. Joey DeFrancesco died only two months after this date with Freeman.
<p> Throughout, this nonagenarian is in especially fine fettle. While maybe not as fleet as he used to be – or maybe no longer in need of standing out – the guitarist is never less than witty, even feisty. He is, by turns, playful yet precise; sly yet succinct, and always warm, wise and wonderful. He’s clearly having fun here, playing, indeed, as though he’s living “the good life.”
<p>The program is mostly made up of George Freeman’s bluesy originals, bookended by the jazz standard “If I Had You” (with DeFrancesco) and Sacha Distel’s popular “The Good Life” (with McBride). With his solos on these two pieces, however, the guitarist reveals his characteristic resolve of exploring the more unchartered waters of the otherwise well-known songs: not so much deconstructing, but reconstructing. As ever, his playing commands attention.
<p>While there’s not a dud in the bunch, the disc’s highlight is surely Freeman’s “Lowe Groovin,” from the trio with McBride. The song dates back to the mid-forties when Freeman played it with trumpeter Joe Morris’s orchestra, a group that also featured Johnny Griffin.
<p>When the song was released on record in 1948, it was wrongly credited to Morris – a move that caused Freeman to leave the band. By the eighties, Freeman was able to reclaim credit for the song and its publishing rights.
<p>Here, Freeman and McBride turn the heat way down “lowe” to a smokey, smoking blues. It’s a stark contrast to the jumpy R&B of the original and contains many fine moments in its all-too brief six minutes (replete with the guitarist’s devilishly clever quote of “You Came a Long Way from St. Louis”).
<p>It’s a shame that Defrancesco and McBride aren’t heard together here – as they occasionally had been as far back as Joey’s 1993 <i>Part III</i> and as recently as Christian’s marvelous big band outing <i>For Jimmy, Wes and Oliver</i> (2020).
<p>Here, Joey shines on “Mr. D,” written by the guitarist especially for the late, great and much-missed organist, and “Up and Down,” while Christian rocks, as expected, throughout, most notably on “Lowe Groovin” and “Sister Tankersley,” written by the guitarist for his mother, who lived to be 101.
<p>The disc’s affectionate liner notes were written by producer Michael Cuscuna, who, in a nice “full circle” moment, financed and produced George Freeman’s 1969 recording debut, <i>Birth Sign</i>. Cuscuna “discovered” Freeman back in 1968 while writing the notes for the album <i>The Astonishing Mickey Fields</i>, where the tenor saxophonist was backed by Groove Holmes’ group, featuring George Freeman.
<p>One could wish for a full disc’s worth of material from both sessions. But what is here is absorbing, often bracing and always enjoyable. Five guys just a-sittin’ and a-rockin’.
<p><i>The Good Life</i> is good jazz.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-75277734338187341102023-07-03T09:47:00.000-04:002023-07-03T09:47:22.513-04:00Herbert Rehbein on Decca<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXWZAtGFyilssViGt-zDjCj_JqgZHbm9KhkhoOfE0CxI4-zUJQ95OBOyhGqSaOn2QM0rxmFpMjdgEkbvtf9S6nwaoBM2OaMvqTZ1cytavaivaergmCyJ5gAQB_IiVgIbLo804ei-99HgCFcb5DOyaRNpzVX9HVPkzapI5hf67Wq6e9ug9TLzd/s600/herbert.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXWZAtGFyilssViGt-zDjCj_JqgZHbm9KhkhoOfE0CxI4-zUJQ95OBOyhGqSaOn2QM0rxmFpMjdgEkbvtf9S6nwaoBM2OaMvqTZ1cytavaivaergmCyJ5gAQB_IiVgIbLo804ei-99HgCFcb5DOyaRNpzVX9HVPkzapI5hf67Wq6e9ug9TLzd/s400/herbert.jpg"/></a></div><p>The German composer and bandleader Bert Kaempfert looms large as a pop-song composer and maestro of exceptional easy-listening music. Nearly half a century since his untimely passing in 1980, Kaempfert’s presence in music continues to be felt.
<p>He stands head and shoulders among the world’s best and best-known songwriters and his music continues to be covered today. And Kaempfert’s records – dozens waxed from the fifties through the seventies – are as timeless as ever.
<p>But there’s no talking about Bert Kaempfert without mentioning Herbert Rehbein. And, sadly, too many of us – this writer included – fail to mention Rehbein’s significant contribution to music <i>and</i> the success of Bert Kaempfert.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0ZqqsOqG75BDFZUGwwfjC_mnUipbNxC07lNa6qPCsvaD1klTuFcFDstrDnHKnUmghkUXBfpc9-sx7kDgbjT_wlJO17kcHV1nnBDWmPTNEg5oCswronDE78R6DwT3T1Ckw3z7QFgPulyGFTNx__rwAa_ucfN9cr9lQ0B3h2JzJFSJUHzyeT8J/s495/decca.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="128" data-original-width="495" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0ZqqsOqG75BDFZUGwwfjC_mnUipbNxC07lNa6qPCsvaD1klTuFcFDstrDnHKnUmghkUXBfpc9-sx7kDgbjT_wlJO17kcHV1nnBDWmPTNEg5oCswronDE78R6DwT3T1Ckw3z7QFgPulyGFTNx__rwAa_ucfN9cr9lQ0B3h2JzJFSJUHzyeT8J/s400/decca.jpg"/></a></div><p>Herbert Rehbein was born in Hamburg, Germany in 1922. His first contact with music was an inexpensive violin his parents gave him instead of the more expensive piano he wanted. He practiced with fervor, mastering the classics of Brahms, Mendelssohn and Tchaikovsky.
<p>By age 19, he was drafted in to the military but was lucky enough to get stationed on the Mediterranean island of Crete, where he served in the Music Corps. Later, he was taken as a prisoner of war, yet somehow was allowed to play the violin. Even more remarkably, he was named violin soloist and musical director of Yukoslavia’s Belgrade Radio Orchestra.
<p>Rehbein eventually returned to Hamburg in 1952 to attend to his mother’s illness. While there, he met fellow orchestra leader, Bert Kaempfert. After several performances together, the two became friends and, eventually, songwriting partners.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm7va_kKpSMUE18hh5z26Ut06nR_7UsUBkncJrHjdR6cik8EFgxhR-eFmmwJepSJlBAhktNIA0gydNuM0DI6Z4QWKuf2PG9yDEzkyP3vBi7joEI8b1drcf3UfhYSnOVY9bw_IsQ7rP70DLW1WA5bfg4QNpXekoq26WtxVIIuWyLIm5AsYhprOW/s656/herbert2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="656" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm7va_kKpSMUE18hh5z26Ut06nR_7UsUBkncJrHjdR6cik8EFgxhR-eFmmwJepSJlBAhktNIA0gydNuM0DI6Z4QWKuf2PG9yDEzkyP3vBi7joEI8b1drcf3UfhYSnOVY9bw_IsQ7rP70DLW1WA5bfg4QNpXekoq26WtxVIIuWyLIm5AsYhprOW/s400/herbert2.jpg"/></a></div><p>By the mid-fifties, Rehbein had relocated to Switzerland, where he became musical director and principal soloist of the Swiss Radio Orchestra, a position he held for many years. He began issuing singles under his own name and accompanying Swiss singer and actor Vico Torriani (1920-98) on a series of international hits.
<p>On record, Kaempfert and Rehbein’s partnership seems to have begun on the former’s 1961 album <i>Lights Out, Sweet Dreams</i> with the pairs’ songs, “Highland Dream,” “Sweet Dreams” and “Magnolia Blossoms.” Expat Rehbein is also said to have had an even greater role in the Kaempfert universe as the Hamburg-based orchestra’s principal arranger and conductor. (Albums, in those days, rarely gave credit where credit was due.)
<p>The pair were credited with crafting a “continental sound” that made the “Kaempfert Touch” an international success in the sixties. They wrote hundreds of songs (together and with others) over nearly two decades including “My Way of Life (Over and Over)” (a hit for Frank Sinatra), the lovely “Sweet Maria,” “The Lady Smiles,” “It Makes No Difference,” “Lady” and “You Turned My World Around” (also covered by Sinatra).
<p>Dean Martin recorded the writing partners’ “I Can’t Help Remembering You” and “Welcome to My World” while Sammy Davis, Jr. had a hit with “Lonely is the Name” and Al Martino scored with “Wiederseh’n.” The two wrote many more songs – particularly for Kaempfert records – that deserve to be much better known. Only some are noted here.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqn7GrRwIXb6qVKskg8hYUAwxgKOGiWc2tsTwZGH9Sq_M5Oz6-NgG9eXBQbiPyyAWZtZQsR7uLFqgdXY2SVr02de58GXP5GWA2F2_ZAr3yg65Dy_vDIPuVCVW02YgY9FsSyfNt-GM96KMLbHqMvtuhqEXtAyFyzTKvAQybXjUT5r0xuAeW7hd-/s600/herblp1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqn7GrRwIXb6qVKskg8hYUAwxgKOGiWc2tsTwZGH9Sq_M5Oz6-NgG9eXBQbiPyyAWZtZQsR7uLFqgdXY2SVr02de58GXP5GWA2F2_ZAr3yg65Dy_vDIPuVCVW02YgY9FsSyfNt-GM96KMLbHqMvtuhqEXtAyFyzTKvAQybXjUT5r0xuAeW7hd-/s400/herblp1.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>Music To Soothe That Tiger (1965)</b>
<p><i>This is cheek-to-cheek music, designed to be shared with someone you love. Sit back and turn the lights down low…you might even unlock the cage…you’ve got nothing to worry about, start the music and “hold that tiger.”</i> - From the album’s cheeky liner notes
<p><i>This album title understates the contents. The tunes and arrangements could soothe the most savage of beasts. Lush, smooth strings and brass envelop the listener into relaxation.</i> - Billboard (February 6, 1965)
<p><i>European export Herbert Rehbein guides his lush [orchestra] in a rich-sounding tour of “cheek-to- cheek” music with this outing…a beautiful package of romance-filled nostalgia.</i> - Cash Box (March 27, 1965)
<p>Originally released in Europe in 1964 as <i>Bert Kaempfert Presents Love</i>, <i>Music To Soothe That Tiger</i> is specifically engineered to echo those popular mood records of the fifties, particularly the records of Jackie Gleason. Although this sort of thing was still in vogue, its luster was dulled rather significantly by the breakout of the Fab Four around this time.
<p>Rehbein goes out of his way to contrast the then-popular “Kaempfert sound” by bringing strings to the fore, swapping out Fred Moch’s trumpet for the welcome smokey after-hours tenor of Emil Wurster and, most significantly, doing away with Ladi Geisler’s signature “Knack-Bass” in favor of upright bass and acoustic guitar for rhythm support (giving the orchestra a feel of Count Basie lite).
<p>The Kaempfert-Rehbein compositions here include “Don’t Talk to Me” (also on Kaempfert’s </i>Living It Up!</i> and later covered by Johnny Mathis) and “The Lady Smiles” (also covered by Matt Monroe) as well as the little known but worthy “Moon Maid” and “Dry Eyes.” Also here is Rehbein’s solo composition “I Love You So,” which Kaempfert covered a decade later on the 1975 <i>Moon Over Miami</i>, his final American release.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNI1YVfcmK5LMM-CGxeMuVNXgkO5ttHoz3eTOul_MW48akfWQ7WQZI0Fxo-_VaDlgEt0aTLqyfaL3aP7RNRBhPRKRHR0q0FbCo6tB3Bw6ayTfE1n3t9X8-NQ6rHSA10wWmoDZYPtQKrVXsA56YcayyAu0ndqzl8v7Q3RWawVFkdu-MErUIGth/s599/herbcd1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNI1YVfcmK5LMM-CGxeMuVNXgkO5ttHoz3eTOul_MW48akfWQ7WQZI0Fxo-_VaDlgEt0aTLqyfaL3aP7RNRBhPRKRHR0q0FbCo6tB3Bw6ayTfE1n3t9X8-NQ6rHSA10wWmoDZYPtQKrVXsA56YcayyAu0ndqzl8v7Q3RWawVFkdu-MErUIGth/s400/herbcd1.jpg"/></a></div><p>(Interestingly, all five of the previously mentioned songs were sampled in 2018 by Pit Baumgartner for the fascinating and compelling <i>Strangers in Dub: Bert Kaempfert meets De-Phazz</i>. “I admit that in my youth,” writes Baumgartner in his liner note, “I thought Bert Kaempfert’s music was uncool. Today I can see his quality.” His loving tribute is proof of just how cool this music is – still.)
<p>A violinist, possibly Rehbein himself, takes the lead on “Chances Are,” “If I Had You” and “Speak Low.”
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="SDaosLZ_A0A" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SDaosLZ_A0A"></iframe></div><p><b>”Sweet and Lovely” b/w “Blue Beat” (1966)</b>
<p>Of the three albums issued under Herbert Rehbein’s name in the United States, surprisingly none bore any single releases. This means that either radio stations expressed little to no interest in Rehbein’s music or Decca wasn’t doing much to promote Kaempfert’s co-hort. Either way, this is an indication that these records did not fare particularly well.
<p>But in 1966 Decca managed to sneak out a Herbert Rehbein single that never appeared on any album. The A-side was the old chestnut “Sweet and Lovely,” a song made popular in 1931 by Bing Crosby and also Guy Lombardo.
<p>The song has been covered by jazz pianists Thelonious Monk, Bill Evans and Ahmad Jamal but was largely ignored by the easy-listening maestros – although former Jackie Gleason Orchestra soloist Bobby Hackett (who cut a Kaempfert tribute album in 1963) covered “Sweet and Lovely” in 1961.
<p>The single is notable, however, for its flip side: the otherwise unknown Kaempfert-Rehbein composition “Blue Beat.” This all-too brief and uncharacteristic bit of Kaempfertiana is a cool, catchy mishmash of Neal Hefti’s “Batman” theme with Herbie Hancock’s “Watermelon Man” and Henry Mancini’s “Baby Elephant Walk.” “Blue Beat” has somehow eluded all the many Kaempfert compilations on LP and CD, yet is well worth hearing.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0PM6uHzIke9Wt91JK89nnvrsZo4EUlYZg9XCSmzhJYF5-4WcqR0S3LShDwkEFwJxEBuAvEBsnkAqA0C4KrSqobEA__NKaseRY20ZsyGIm_3Fj2fTAeXQmrPzeQzWuACTUeJnawmV2LgcpZLprab2p1bee_rrGADFQZ0CVmKQO7uu4DzvFmsig/s599/herblp2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="597" data-original-width="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0PM6uHzIke9Wt91JK89nnvrsZo4EUlYZg9XCSmzhJYF5-4WcqR0S3LShDwkEFwJxEBuAvEBsnkAqA0C4KrSqobEA__NKaseRY20ZsyGIm_3Fj2fTAeXQmrPzeQzWuACTUeJnawmV2LgcpZLprab2p1bee_rrGADFQZ0CVmKQO7uu4DzvFmsig/s400/herblp2.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>Love After Midnight (1967)</b>
<p><i>A nightcap in a dimly-lit café, a slow ride through the park in a hansom cab, sweet nothings whispered in the wee small hours…Love After Midnight is beautiful music, beautifully played, certain to make lovers of us all.</i> - From the album’s dreamy liner notes
<p><i>A selection of romantic tunes performed by Herbert Rehbein and his orchestra. The sound…is full, rich, and clear, and the package should attract plenty of attention.</i> - Cash Box (February 18, 1967)
<p>The strings are lush and flowing, the trumpet muted and soft, and the violin crystal clear yet subduing in a beautiful program.</i> - Billboard (March 4, 1967)
<p>Recorded around the same time of Bert Kaempfert’s 1967 album <i>Hold Me</i> - which also includes versions of this record’s “Lady” and “Hold Back the Dawn” - <i>Love After Midnight</i> is a bit more taciturn than its predecessor: music to soothe that tiger <i>to sleep</i>.
<p>Rehbein’s rather mournful violin is brought forward on more of the program than before but rather notably on “Yesterday” and the Rehbein original “A Gypsy in Manhattan,” a nice companion piece to the earlier Kaempfert-Rehbein number “Tipsy Gypsy.” This particular “Gypsy,” however, suggests a Bernard Hermann combine as much of the past (say, <i>Vertigo</i>) as of the future (possibly <i>Taxi Driver</i>).
<p>Trumpeter Manfred “Fred” Moch (1930-2011), Kaempfert’s regular soloist at the time, is brought in to add a refreshing edge of jazz to the proceedings, much as Bobby Hackett added such flair to Jackie Gleason’s records in the fifties. Moch peps up the program considerably when he steps up to the mic, particularly on the title track, the lovely “Li’l Darlin” (a performance which likely made composer Neal Hefti especially proud), “Lady” and “A Gypsy in Manhattan.”
<p>The record is flush with lush strings and all the better for it. The swells throughout are dreamy, and often vaguely suggestive. This sense of programming highlights what many listeners of this sort of music already knew: easy listening isn’t as easy as it sounds.
<p>Along with the previously noted Kaempfert-Rehbein tunes, the album also features the pair’s terrific title track, which was previously recorded by Kaempfert in 1963 and included on his European compilation album <i>Let’s Go Bowling</i>. A particularly dreamy take of Kaempfert’s “Strangers in the Night” – a number one hit for Frank Sinatra and originally derived from a song on the soundtrack to <i>A Man Could Get Killed</i> - is included but it’s worth noting that Rehbein had no hand in composing the tune, even though he’s frequently credited there as Kaempfert’s co-composer.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1yJzMDXmopU2QWFVk7Fg3AK7xfUP6QzEL_-c_810DjuFt2LXMgPX-ogo-QxBeYFAoNWUixlkRyiqiZq1C8lks4ywIEOHFIWwGfZ5QNsHLq7gIZe4ZtFIBYwRTH1WpVKp526FtiaIkhXUVfOoYkSq6TAVGr-k_L0h9_M-sow3vLN2TeyClt1H/s600/herblp3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1yJzMDXmopU2QWFVk7Fg3AK7xfUP6QzEL_-c_810DjuFt2LXMgPX-ogo-QxBeYFAoNWUixlkRyiqiZq1C8lks4ywIEOHFIWwGfZ5QNsHLq7gIZe4ZtFIBYwRTH1WpVKp526FtiaIkhXUVfOoYkSq6TAVGr-k_L0h9_M-sow3vLN2TeyClt1H/s400/herblp3.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>…And So To Bed: The Love Music of Bert Kaempfert (1969)</b>
<p><i>The choice of songs offered here is dedicated to that special time when day ebbs away to a quiet close, when reality tunes out…and dreams tune in. Some of the songs are familiar favorites, popular with many of today’s top recording artists, while others are somewhat less familiar. Each, however, is a musical gem that sets a special mood, enhanced by Herbert Rehbein’s faultless musicianship.</i> - From the album’s grim liner notes
<p><i>Easy listening is not always all that easy, but with Bert Kaempfert's long-time collaborator, Herbert Rehbein, the soft sounds of easy listening are coupled with the pleasant sounds of smooth dance rhythms. If you were planning on dancing in your sleep, you would listen to Herbert Rehbein…”</i> - Cash Box (August 23, 1969)
<p>While it might be difficult to determine whether either of the above comments are positive or negative, there is a real sense about this album that Herbert Rehbein’s previous records, lovely as they may be, were anything but big sellers.
<p>Marketing <i>…And So To Bed</i> as a Bert Kaempfert tribute album suggests that Herbert Rehbein seemed to need the more familiar name to sell records. After all, ten of the eleven songs here are as much Rehbein’s as Kaempfert’s. But it’s not even clear this was enough: Kaempfert’s popularity – at least in the United States – was beginning to wane.
<p><i>…And So To Bed</i> actually sounds more like a Bert Kaempfert record than Rehbein’s two previous efforts. Most notable of all is the inclusion of electric bass and the light touch of a drummer, both echoing the typical Kaempfert record of the period.
<p>In addition to the soaring strings typical of Rehbein’s previous records, the leader’s violin (nicely) shares the solo spotlight with an unnamed flautist – a staple of Kaempfert albums of yore. A batch of vocalists also offer a minimal background of “oohs” and “aahs,” as was happening on Kaempfert’s records at the time as well.
<p>The program is well-conceived too. Oddly, the one song here that Rehbein didn’t have a hand in, the well-known “Spanish Eyes,” is the album’s most significant highlight (and this listener’s first exposure to Herbert Rehbein and His Orchestra). Rehbein’s strings positively caress this most beautiful of melodies.
<p>Other joys abound, though, too. These include the haunting “Malaysian Melody,” the otherwise too-morose “The World We Knew,” and the appropriately moody “Manhattan After Dark.”
<p>Also included here are two numbers that don’t factor on any of the Kaempfert records: “The Times Will Change” (later covered by Johnny Mathis) and “I Can’t Help Remembering You” (covered earlier by Dean Martin). The cover versions – and not the Rehbein takes heard here – are included on the 2002 compilation <i>The Bert Kaempfert Story: A Musical Biography</i>.
<p>While <i>…And So To Bed</i> was seemingly – and oddly – never released in Europe or Rehbein’s native Germany (or adopted Swiss homeland), it is also the last of Rehbein’s albums released in America. And so to bed, indeed.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJYuOkJC1h_JsQR9f8jqxZwJkXdBXSJxdTatrEHzUWgF7ENcbaQECGLUqIB9lMwfP0bMGPfkCr32-im_lJrfjvp5MelnZ3CFcbY5pTOTI8oRMcmG28tvgGBGgYSr0UHc78ag8tZn1XoL7MQELWPkHQ0BkPC6mjzopsbvpqmG9TxPO41DpoMCq/s600/herbcd2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJYuOkJC1h_JsQR9f8jqxZwJkXdBXSJxdTatrEHzUWgF7ENcbaQECGLUqIB9lMwfP0bMGPfkCr32-im_lJrfjvp5MelnZ3CFcbY5pTOTI8oRMcmG28tvgGBGgYSr0UHc78ag8tZn1XoL7MQELWPkHQ0BkPC6mjzopsbvpqmG9TxPO41DpoMCq/s400/herbcd2.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>The Rehbein Compilations</b>
<p>Bert Kaempfert continued to work with Herbert Rehbein throughout the seventies – even after the United States stopped issuing Kaempfert recordings in 1975. Rehbein won a 1972 competition for his Olympics theme song, “Munich Fanfare March,” recorded by German orchestra leader Max Greger (and also known as “Olympic Games March” and “Olympis-Jodler”).
<p>Rehbein later recorded one final album under his own name in Italy (seemingly without Kaempfert), <i>Beautiful Morning</i>, which was issued posthumously in 1980. Sadly, Herbert Rehbein died of cancer at the relatively early age of 57 in 1979 while Kaempfert himself passed away eleven months later from complications of a stroke at the equally young age of 56.
<p>In 1993, Herbert Rehbein and Bert Kaempfert were both inducted in to the Songwriters Hall of Fame. Three of the writing pairs’ compositions - “Lady,” “The World We Knew” and “Sweet Maria” (the only song not represented on these recordings) - won music publisher BMI Awards for exceptional performances.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0wP-gHeUUBoUhUACzDfXBC8xIxBGHsmZJUEVfcBpuQDfZd--gLpANCoSlNXyruiO4N6Q9Sxcfwal2HnnTw_PzmPsdTtXxsSIR1nFamorrMlmtQvS2CFfB8rtEUvgfL3l5j0MCCbZdPjZGNttOOXF-DqasR9qPHATyCiSy-1pAreYo0-ibH79/s300/herbcd3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0wP-gHeUUBoUhUACzDfXBC8xIxBGHsmZJUEVfcBpuQDfZd--gLpANCoSlNXyruiO4N6Q9Sxcfwal2HnnTw_PzmPsdTtXxsSIR1nFamorrMlmtQvS2CFfB8rtEUvgfL3l5j0MCCbZdPjZGNttOOXF-DqasR9qPHATyCiSy-1pAreYo0-ibH79/s400/herbcd3.jpg"/></a></div><p>The emergence of the CD format and streaming technologies were very good for Bert Kaempfert’s catalog, keeping much of the bandleader’s recordings in circulation throughout much of the more than four decades that have passed since his death.
<p>Rehbein has also seen two CD compilations of his work: <i>Herbert Rehbein and His Orchestra: The Complete LP Collection</i> (Taragon, 2000) and <i>Soothing The Tiger: The Gentle Sound of Herbert Rehbein and His Orchestra</i> (Edel, 2013). Both sets contain the entire contents of the three Rehbein albums on Decca, though neither adds either side of the 1966 Decca single.
<p>All three of the albums discussed here are thoroughly delightful. None are exactly the same, though each bears a consistency that begged for more.
<p>One senses, though, that Herbert Rehbein was an uncomfortable and possibly unwilling leader. He seemed happier – and certainly more prodigious – behind the scenes.
<p>He is a genuinely accomplished writer – my guess is Rehbein was responsible for the moodier and more wistful melancholy of Kaempfert’s music (Kaempfert’s thing was swing) – as well as a sensitively seasoned arranger who was able to corral large groups of strings, horns and rhythm into a beautiful singular whole. Again, easy ain’t easy.
<p>A lot of Kaempfert’s success is due to Herbert Rehbein. Certainly, both owe much to producer (and occasional songwriting partner) Milt Gabler for their international renown. But Herbert Rehbein was the man behind the curtain: the maker of magic. Not the face of the music, but the body and soul of it.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-63051897445098470312023-06-24T16:22:00.005-04:002023-06-27T20:40:42.159-04:00Charting The Bert Kaempfert Songbook<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLtrn5z3h2EcB5nrMAOviz8Cao2qx5fhaC1WBYpwZogdnxmGS41uqM8f9_izka-DqlAlqLiUFe7XNxkKiTo-6W1OATa6iTyISiSCJjdcQ2KiI80INajLvo1o2_G7TQ8QD4GL1mg5ryeU3K9p2FW-R2rAFziXaek9UFz5_Ys_vRKN2ig3vhcj8E/s225/bkp1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLtrn5z3h2EcB5nrMAOviz8Cao2qx5fhaC1WBYpwZogdnxmGS41uqM8f9_izka-DqlAlqLiUFe7XNxkKiTo-6W1OATa6iTyISiSCJjdcQ2KiI80INajLvo1o2_G7TQ8QD4GL1mg5ryeU3K9p2FW-R2rAFziXaek9UFz5_Ys_vRKN2ig3vhcj8E/s400/bkp1.jpg"/></a></div><p>The summer of 1967 is best remembered for <i>Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band</i>, The Doors’ “Light My Fire” and, of course, as the Summer of Love. But, as listeners at the time may recall, it is also when the German composer and bandleader Bert Kaempfert (1923-80) was at the peak of his own popularity – and, notably, right here in the United States.
<p>Best remembered now as an easy-listening maestro who scored dozens of best-selling orchestral and mostly instrumental records in the sixties and seventies, Kaempfert was an especially prolific composer (and co-composer) of mostly “pretty” tunes that became hits for other artists, particularly popular American vocalists.
<p>Kaempfert’s success started early in the decade when his orchestra’s cover of “Wonderland by Night” – a song, recorded in 1959, which he surprisingly couldn’t get released in his native Germany – turned in to a worldwide number one hit in November 1960. He then went on to discover The Beatles, producing the Fab Four’s earliest recordings that same year.
<p>Embarking on a series of easy-listening records for the Decca label (in the U.S. and on Polydor in Europe), Kaempfert consistently sold well and solidified his place as a composer of catchy, memorable tunes and often beautiful, yet catchy melodies. He also waxed elegantly on jazz and swing standards – notably avoiding many of pop’s tops and the AM radio hits that so many of the other bandleaders of the day were trading in on at the time.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQq4zS4NEyuuKBolCxkiANr6_2HDBTgjJsr7jOBatwiNNsCeuWk6tz9z_NijR0GIXgPpfPPVIH-xNlVocGR9PdhG3H_TcnJsDOY_OH2qUaHe2_wZ-g809dK4rC9NZEidNSnYcM6RN91yvr7eoSl386NogqO-pkQ6DcHyNrXPhAPJyyop_Zi5U/s507/bkp8.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQq4zS4NEyuuKBolCxkiANr6_2HDBTgjJsr7jOBatwiNNsCeuWk6tz9z_NijR0GIXgPpfPPVIH-xNlVocGR9PdhG3H_TcnJsDOY_OH2qUaHe2_wZ-g809dK4rC9NZEidNSnYcM6RN91yvr7eoSl386NogqO-pkQ6DcHyNrXPhAPJyyop_Zi5U/s400/bkp8.jpg"/></a></div><p>Kaempfert had his own hits with “Tenderly” (1961), “Afrikaan Beat” (1962 – beautifully revived forty years later in the film <i>About Schmidt</i>), “Red Roses for a Blue Lady” and “Three O’clock in the Morning” (both 1965).
<p>But as a composer, Kaempfert also had a hand in such hits for Elvis Presley (“Wooden Heart,” 1961), Wayne Newton (“Danke Schoen,” 1963 and “Remember When,” 1965), Al Martino (“Spanish Eyes,” 1965), Nat “King” Cole (“L.O.V.E.,” 1964), Jack Jones (“Lady,” 1967) and, most notably, Frank Sinatra’s “comeback” hit “Strangers in the Night” (1966) – a song the legendary singer allegedly hated.
<p>Kaempfert became relentlessly covered. Indeed, the music publisher BMI awarded Kaempfert Special Citations of Achievement “in recognition of the great national popularity as measured by over 1 million broadcast performances” for his compositions “Danke Schoen,” “Lady,” “The World We Knew (Over and Over),” “Spanish Eyes,” “Strangers in the Night” and “Sweet Maria.”
<p>Among Kaempfert’s most popular songs, SecondHandSongs lists 312 recorded covers of “Spanish Eyes,” the 51st most popular song in 1965, and 379 covers of “Strangers in the Night,” the 21st most popular song in 1966.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24oKraZwwbthqOTNZCzlYHhsyCM22XGoTWOxv4JyrHmyqaj6p9Yndl7CHThcY0X0IJnBQdUdYN0evKax_7P6lEOH-jpXgq7LJJs98ehkSYYlXiNuwv-j_DcUJ9aXcbpDZ1jJCV1SJ2xuxkiDTQ1YR4Fxgles1XeL5sktMJwvaoCqctTM2_mRc/s640/bkp2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24oKraZwwbthqOTNZCzlYHhsyCM22XGoTWOxv4JyrHmyqaj6p9Yndl7CHThcY0X0IJnBQdUdYN0evKax_7P6lEOH-jpXgq7LJJs98ehkSYYlXiNuwv-j_DcUJ9aXcbpDZ1jJCV1SJ2xuxkiDTQ1YR4Fxgles1XeL5sktMJwvaoCqctTM2_mRc/s400/bkp2.jpg"/></a></div><p>While Kaempfert was nominated only once for a Grammy Award (“Strangers in the Night”) and Kaempfert (and James Last) engineer Peter Klemt was unaccountably nominated only once for his work on Bert’s album <i>The Kaempfert Touch</i> (1970), little wonder why Kaempfert felt unstoppable. Awards didn’t matter…sales did.
<p>”Kaempfert predicts,” roared a <i>Billboard</i> magazine headline in May 13, 1967, “[a] shift to soft music.”
<p>”I have made it a little easier,” said the composer at the time, “for both new and old vocalists of the soft-sell school to get recorded and sell their records.”
<p>And so it was…for a few more weeks.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRo4k2fB0G6ijP_upu78IpxKuMIauyGYLGhfH2XT7kz39WGOi6Sw1ow_cayswFe1peCTC-O6kcU4wx8pAMyzjGDGFEAaKV5HSe0logS8AmsytlC_6RX7Ea_b7aSIHgsvqzLj9SftujtQQGJ-n1B2dpD7vB52fvaYCaZeHIgXjgjp9mMfFXaRo/s400/bkp3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRo4k2fB0G6ijP_upu78IpxKuMIauyGYLGhfH2XT7kz39WGOi6Sw1ow_cayswFe1peCTC-O6kcU4wx8pAMyzjGDGFEAaKV5HSe0logS8AmsytlC_6RX7Ea_b7aSIHgsvqzLj9SftujtQQGJ-n1B2dpD7vB52fvaYCaZeHIgXjgjp9mMfFXaRo/s400/bkp3.jpg"/></a></div><p>”Already,” Kaempfert boasted of his then-forthcoming record (<i>…Love That Bert Kaempfert</i>), "Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Al Martino, Andy Williams, Bobby Darin and Wayne Newton will record songs from my new album and the lyrics for these songs haven't been written yet."
<p>For the record, Andy Williams <i>did</i> cover the earlier “Strangers in the Night” and “Spanish Eyes” – nothing from “my new album” – but Bobby Darin (1936-73) never issued anything written by Bert Kaempfert.
<p>But while Bert was busting out all over, the summer of 1967 happened. That summer saw a seismic shift in popular music: from the Brill Building and folk to rock and the rise of the singer-songwriter. Suddenly, there was a whole new generation of record buyer. The “kids” of the day were no longer listening to or buying the “vocalists of the soft-sell school.”
<p>Still, Kaempfert managed to chart with songs aimed at the “easy listening” crowd – known today as the slightly hipper “Adult Contemporary” set – at least for a few more years.
<p>Kaempfert and his co-writers, notably long-time partner Herbert Rehbein, conceived a prodigious number of songs that became hits for English-speaking singers. This was likely facilitated by Kaempfert’s American producer and frequent co-writer, Milt Gabler. And most charted.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEGonarP1KowcUzs0VLvDMjZnfZDXe9YyR4Lhozcdbep940RtaBhFCGCSE54fhqXbdVjXtHjNcFPvIVwqwyVuAsbo7Mmu2zg6O0ybnYDhTNFkoi1CpWKXHziyycJSm0aPWfoBh3-MYOAiGelU_4o1E-VZ-O42evmk1wvG1vY5C7OaLfA_HN4A/s300/bkp10.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEGonarP1KowcUzs0VLvDMjZnfZDXe9YyR4Lhozcdbep940RtaBhFCGCSE54fhqXbdVjXtHjNcFPvIVwqwyVuAsbo7Mmu2zg6O0ybnYDhTNFkoi1CpWKXHziyycJSm0aPWfoBh3-MYOAiGelU_4o1E-VZ-O42evmk1wvG1vY5C7OaLfA_HN4A/s400/bkp10.jpg"/></a></div><p>What follows is a list of those Bert Kaempfert compositions by others that charted on the <i>Billboard</i> Hot 100 (*) or on other charts that made such performances notable. Note: “AC” = the Adult Contemporary chart listing, while “UK” = the United Kingdom chart listing:
<p>“Wooden Heart” by Elvis Presley (1961, #1 UK; 2005, #2 UK [!] – released twice in the US in 1964 and 1965, though neither issue charted)
<p> (*) “Wooden Heart” by Joe Dowell (1961, #1)
<p> (*) “A Swingin’ Safari” by The Billy Vaughn Singers (1962, #13, #5 AC)
<p> (*) “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton (1963, #13, #3 AC)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjamVW9I8QmaOYuix78QEuuc0NGwwLuW6veeB5o0Sv1gphd7p7hoyFeBiyFDCpNNsVsxiM45yErFzRt5HNPHj9c__tC5x_yCeVpK207WrfL4R0HmldSp4IXTxP13FFualQ3mQGARNI-Ptt0ODqWwhTODZGEGjEgJ9-cITotppLy5ep8SQY47et3/s640/bkp7.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjamVW9I8QmaOYuix78QEuuc0NGwwLuW6veeB5o0Sv1gphd7p7hoyFeBiyFDCpNNsVsxiM45yErFzRt5HNPHj9c__tC5x_yCeVpK207WrfL4R0HmldSp4IXTxP13FFualQ3mQGARNI-Ptt0ODqWwhTODZGEGjEgJ9-cITotppLy5ep8SQY47et3/s400/bkp7.jpg"/></a></div><p> (*) “L-O-V-E” by Nat King Cole (1964, #81, #17 AC)
<p> (*) “Only Those in Love” by Baby Washington (1965, #73, #10 R&B)
<p> (*) “Remember When” by Wayne Newton (1965, #69, #15 AC)
<p> (*) “Spanish Eyes” by Al Martino (1965, #15, #1 AC)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRG0pqpa2Si15O-qcdRt7CPTEZ14zalEFDNPW6vq8iUR0m2wtRZLQ_A2nB0fu10aceEmPaI6b9K_V3B2_zKHN35rQF5-lo_-9NDrbDvUfeYBZTYx52HyrNgYjCIzeb3qcAFZTh7DOdFzfkVgxZtsqFt1lbO58fjUfh47_-mzqZ4LAbndBXLwQu/s300/bkp6.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRG0pqpa2Si15O-qcdRt7CPTEZ14zalEFDNPW6vq8iUR0m2wtRZLQ_A2nB0fu10aceEmPaI6b9K_V3B2_zKHN35rQF5-lo_-9NDrbDvUfeYBZTYx52HyrNgYjCIzeb3qcAFZTh7DOdFzfkVgxZtsqFt1lbO58fjUfh47_-mzqZ4LAbndBXLwQu/s400/bkp6.jpg"/></a></div><p> (*) “Strangers in the Night” by Frank Sinatra (1966, #1 US/AC/UK)
<p> (*) Weiderseh’n” by Al Martino (1966, #57, #3 AC)
<p> (*) “Lady” by Jack Jones (1967, #39, #1 AC)
<p> “Sweet Maria” by The Billy Vaughn Singers (1967, #6 AC)
<p> “The Lady Smiles” by Matt Monro (1967, #11 AC)
<p> “Sweet Maria” by Steve Lawrence (1967, #23 AC)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQGVjSABHEbPWBXXsjJFp-e3ciOlD4gfialhM-Neh8ngw8HCABBQQylXRormh4DtWaNnk-BSLFl1i7PHm3QefmQ7Sgm5uk9dObBhDFvxbn4o0fXiXxziq7XRb1Vy6PPVHuiY3GamH_mLYUYu9enOt09flNm1hnMQthiFkYsYhjQ3-vEgh5ErcW/s300/bkp11.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQGVjSABHEbPWBXXsjJFp-e3ciOlD4gfialhM-Neh8ngw8HCABBQQylXRormh4DtWaNnk-BSLFl1i7PHm3QefmQ7Sgm5uk9dObBhDFvxbn4o0fXiXxziq7XRb1Vy6PPVHuiY3GamH_mLYUYu9enOt09flNm1hnMQthiFkYsYhjQ3-vEgh5ErcW/s400/bkp11.jpg"/></a></div><p> (*) “The World We Knew (Over and Over)” by Frank Sinatra (1967, #30, #1 AC)
<p> “It Makes No Difference” by Vic Damone (1967, #39 AC)
<p> “Don’t Talk to Me” by Johnny Mathis (1967, #21 AC)
<p> “I Can’t Help Remembering You” by The Anita Kerr Singers (1967, #15 AC)
<p> (*) “Lonely is the Name” by Sammy Davis, Jr. (1968, #93, #12 AC)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVHu57JDe1XKAcjfO1V0ZB-S79hTktbXhxR7sQozq68hqzFUri407sR8WN_89dxUYo8Mn0KTTzxPT3-6vHw0X3PujMYUxBLL7DD2HwdbvJzi73XXUKmRgi8pfgyY9ZP6dim7n2Ybo2uXSNEiD4CQAESsdgSrQOyZ-dtxEPRHUyRvdFth7FDrMP/s500/bkp5.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVHu57JDe1XKAcjfO1V0ZB-S79hTktbXhxR7sQozq68hqzFUri407sR8WN_89dxUYo8Mn0KTTzxPT3-6vHw0X3PujMYUxBLL7DD2HwdbvJzi73XXUKmRgi8pfgyY9ZP6dim7n2Ybo2uXSNEiD4CQAESsdgSrQOyZ-dtxEPRHUyRvdFth7FDrMP/s400/bkp5.jpg"/></a></div><p> (*) “My Way of Life” by Frank Sinatra (1968, #64, #3 AC)
<p> “The Maltese Melody” by Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass (1970, #14 AC)
<p> (*) “You Turned My World Around” by Frank Sinatra (1974, #83, #11 AC).
<p> (*) “Wooden Heart” by Bobby Vinton (1975, #58, #23 AC)
<p> “Strangers in the Night” by Bette Midler (1976, #45 AC)
<p> “Spanish Eyes” by Charlie Rich (1979, #20 Country)
<p> “Spanish Eyes” by Willie Nelson with Julio Iglesias (1988, #8 Country)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ91b-jWcfy3lP5kOroJNvNYOKGH0nd7LDRX7kmoIiBOl3MpiS4V3IZALN8IpxvI7qcGUmSJ-H3Ty0ifmj_FEfo3PpZs7CoqlrsP7nn5W7ZMND1y3h91Re_-xQR3JpqG7TMTbOqsIgp2Vl10hrG4IQhXcoBPMJbBdOfJVZaWaie05pkZ3UQdKt/s550/bkp9.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ91b-jWcfy3lP5kOroJNvNYOKGH0nd7LDRX7kmoIiBOl3MpiS4V3IZALN8IpxvI7qcGUmSJ-H3Ty0ifmj_FEfo3PpZs7CoqlrsP7nn5W7ZMND1y3h91Re_-xQR3JpqG7TMTbOqsIgp2Vl10hrG4IQhXcoBPMJbBdOfJVZaWaie05pkZ3UQdKt/s400/bkp9.jpg"/></a></div><p>Kaempfert also penned many more songs that didn’t chart. For example, Wayne – “Mr. Las Vegas” – Newton also covered such additional Kaempfert trifles as “Don’t Talk to Me” (1965) as well as “L-O-V-E,” “Moon Over Naples,” “The Yo Yo Puppet Song” (also covered by trumpeter Al Hirt), “Wiedersehn” and “Remember When” (all 1966).
<p>Rat Pack crooner Dean Martin took on the Kaempfert nuggets “Take Me” (1963), “I Can’t Help Remembering You” (1967) and “Welcome to My Heart” (1968) – interestingly, though, none of these were ever issued as singles.
<p>Singer and actress Jane Morgan recorded Kaempfert’s “Now and Forever” in 1966 while Johnny Mathis put out the Kaempfert tunes “Every Time I Dream of You” (1968), “Strangers in the Night” (1969) and the 1970 album <i>Johnny Mathis Sings The Music of Bacharach & Kaempfert</i>. (The Kaempfert pieces from that album were issued separately as a Bert tribute LP in Europe, although, quite curiously, none of the Kaempfert tunes were ever issued as singles.)
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKOTtOQ-Y6Q0YrAWkhxCVOUY5KRwP2Rb6MjF463zRMhyWLhRpX7rPP4XMVytZoJEqp5Ppc_DjyI9xk7igiSHWlMEK9lUkrU8mJ2cA23OlOO2xUN1n5BKJWXYa1R7nRxa5UkzJz-LCy50ZhyATvhkLfvGhyrN07igcYtcXVNuIOr3F6v4xK8w2/s295/bk_swing.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="213" data-original-width="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKOTtOQ-Y6Q0YrAWkhxCVOUY5KRwP2Rb6MjF463zRMhyWLhRpX7rPP4XMVytZoJEqp5Ppc_DjyI9xk7igiSHWlMEK9lUkrU8mJ2cA23OlOO2xUN1n5BKJWXYa1R7nRxa5UkzJz-LCy50ZhyATvhkLfvGhyrN07igcYtcXVNuIOr3F6v4xK8w2/s400/bk_swing.jpg"/></a></div><p>Mathis recorded his Kaempfert tribute in Hamburg with Kaempfert’s own orchestra, although none of the Kaempfert tunes from the set were issued as singles. Singers in the 21st century continue covering Kaempfert, including Joss Stone, Marc Almond, Jon Secada, Diana Krall and Helen Schneider, who recorded a full-on tribute in her <i>The World We Knew – The Bert Kaempfert Album</i> (2010).
<p>Bert Kaempfert continued recording and performing with his orchestra throughout the seventies, but his appeal as a hit songwriter had largely dissipated. Since his early death at age 56 in 1980, Kaempfert’s prodigious catalog has often been reissued on CD and is available to this day on most streaming platforms. The music of Bert Kaempfert continues to resonate in the samples of his magic by such artists as Nicola Conte, Naughty by Nature, Lil’ Kim, Chelsea Collins, G-Eazy and others.
<p>Evergreens, all.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-3425573918097625812023-06-10T17:50:00.002-04:002023-06-12T17:23:12.528-04:00Easy Does It: Bert Kaempfert Tribute Albums<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy922jxoayzvX393ET2Dmt6Kdlqbea6IxJabJUpQFquc-XIg_FgHQsR3N50DoWpRfD0ifnF_rw3YOHKww8VMwFYr-x23Zhzn_PHw85i8XFQdUWyv5hRQlzLNmxEPxr4WnNWkNY62ELOMnFTC66HXXbDFGz7xfolbSFgsvMMs-9zJaneZDRqg/s999/bk_image.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="999" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy922jxoayzvX393ET2Dmt6Kdlqbea6IxJabJUpQFquc-XIg_FgHQsR3N50DoWpRfD0ifnF_rw3YOHKww8VMwFYr-x23Zhzn_PHw85i8XFQdUWyv5hRQlzLNmxEPxr4WnNWkNY62ELOMnFTC66HXXbDFGz7xfolbSFgsvMMs-9zJaneZDRqg/s400/bk_image.jpg"/></a></div><p>The German composer and bandleader Bert Kaempfert (1923-80) was a singular force in music in the sixties. Not only was he the first person to “discover” and record The Beatles (and, curiously, one of the few orchestral leaders that didn’t much cover The Beatles), he also gave Elvis Presley a huge European hit, “Wooden Heart” (from the 1960 Elvis Presley film <i>G.I. Blues</i>).
<p>From the early fifties, Kaempfert – a talent scout as well as bandleader – had recorded successful orchestral records in Germany. But he achieved international success and acclaim with his cover of “Wonderland by Night,” a number one hit in the United States in 1960.
<p>Throughout the sixties and seventies, Kaempfert put out dozens of records (for the Decca label in the U.S.), all recorded in Hamburg and supervised by American producer Milt Gabler that sold very well. The mostly instrumental records were considered “beautiful music” and filed under “easy listening,” and featured Europe’s leading musicians parlaying Kaempfert’s signature sound.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q521qh-VCBcIyv4C3dMyEdp1mHYJBSP6US9qq_sKtb9Xp-0xO37cfcOaEUuMr4yw784I5yCAJJBoEaowlrwZUkEOoofeUuDfcLjQyFwEqVRnvCo4zmeFYQpWaBDkBJXRC-D2uaAoLAXOlRUwESVQeotJ22RjHYEJbgtXppV7FiX6eZ7OWg/s295/bk_swing.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="213" data-original-width="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q521qh-VCBcIyv4C3dMyEdp1mHYJBSP6US9qq_sKtb9Xp-0xO37cfcOaEUuMr4yw784I5yCAJJBoEaowlrwZUkEOoofeUuDfcLjQyFwEqVRnvCo4zmeFYQpWaBDkBJXRC-D2uaAoLAXOlRUwESVQeotJ22RjHYEJbgtXppV7FiX6eZ7OWg/s400/bk_swing.jpg"/></a></div><p>Kaempfert also penned many American hits for a variety of singers from Wayne Newton, Connie Francis, Al Martino, Dean Martin, Nat King Cole, Sammy Davis, Jr. and, notably, one of Frank Sinatra’s “come back” hits, “Strangers in the Night” (1966).
<p>Naturally, these songs were covered by other singers, jazz instrumentalists and lounge meisters spinning out easy-listening records of their own. Several artists even devoted full albums to Bert Kaempfert’s music. These albums were recorded between 1963 and 1969, during Kaempfert’s hit heyday. (Kaempfert recorded up to his 1980 death, but his records stopped appearing in the States five years earlier.)
<p>This essay considers albums by Bobby Hackett, Anita Kerr, Pete Fountain, Al Hirt and the Living Strings. But later Bert Kaempfert tribute albums were also waxed by Johnny Mathis (1970 – recorded in Hamburg with Kaempfert’s orchestra), fellow bandleader Paul Kuhn (2003), former Kaempfert player Jiggs Whigham (2006), vibraphonist Christopher Dell (2007 – with Kaempert’s “knack bass” player Ladi Geisler on guitar) and the maestro's grandson, trumpeter Stefan Kaempfert (2011).
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ZYa41FBgv7Aa829M5M3ij2pPM1G6830KhiKoZOw_atOg0Q1pktB2_8KegLFEIBWTKdKdKfJUT4fHUNT8cLdJejEVgwuJQpQHuQeqbALFzIe1yTTGnHU3Ny4sCPo4mxNjfavx9W2JCTAzAqDxmsUjLXUJ61IWrZL2yugRHMmOboBM-wIZvA/s599/bk_hackett.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ZYa41FBgv7Aa829M5M3ij2pPM1G6830KhiKoZOw_atOg0Q1pktB2_8KegLFEIBWTKdKdKfJUT4fHUNT8cLdJejEVgwuJQpQHuQeqbALFzIe1yTTGnHU3Ny4sCPo4mxNjfavx9W2JCTAzAqDxmsUjLXUJ61IWrZL2yugRHMmOboBM-wIZvA/s400/bk_hackett.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>Bobby Hackett Plays The Music Of Bert Kaempfert (1964)</b>
<p>Jazz trumpeter and cornetist Bobby Hackett (1915-76) was initially (and latterly) associated with Dixieland, but earned his jazz chops in the bands of Eddie Condon, Benny Goodman and, most notably, Glenn Miller – often earning positive praise as the heir apparent to the great Bix Beiderbecke. He was also the featured soloist on many of Jackie Gleason’s mood music records of the fifties, offering a pleasing, light but soothingly sultry touch of jazz to those recordings.
<p>Hackett’s “superbly gentle tone,” as Leonard Feather put it, made him the ideal candidate to front, if maybe not the first Bert Kaempfert tribute, then surely the first one to hit American shores.
<p><i>Bobby Hackett Plays The Music Of Bert Kaempfert</i> is a sequel to the 1963 Hackett tribute to Henry Mancini. Both discs were expertly – if not also, experimentally – arranged by keyboard virtuoso Dick Hyman, who is as responsible for the success of this Kaempfert tribute as Hackett.
<p>Here, Hackett covers three of Kaempfert’s U.S. hits (“Wonderland by Night,” “Now and Forever” and “Afrikaan Beat”) as well as “Danke Schoen,” Wayne Newton’s 1963 American hit (Hyman covered the tune on his 1963 album <i>Fabulous</i>). Five of the tunes Hackett covers here come from Kaempfert’s terrific 1962 disc <i>That Happy Feeling</i> (released, for the most part, in Europe as <i>A Swingin’ Safari</i>) – emphasizing how much fun Kaempfert’s music was.
<p>Indeed, Hackett swings this safari. His jazz roots kick Kaempfert’s music into gear while Dick Hyman’s typically quirky arrangements and various keyboard accompaniment work well here. The pair bring out the Mancini in “The Bass Walks” and Kaempfert’s melodic gift for such catchy numbers as “A Swingin’ Safari,” “Afrikaan Beat” and the appropriately “Happy Trumpeter” (covered several years later by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass as “Magic Trumpet”).
<p>The album’s highlight is surely the imaginative and delightfully spunky “Mexican Market Day,” a supercharged take on “Market Day.” It’s a wonder how this gem – which easily could have been titled “African Market Day” – never became a hit. It seems no one bothered trying. Here, as on the other up-tempo numbers, Hyman drives the beat a little harder and faster than Kaempfert does on the original – a key to the album’s success and what <i>Cashbox</i> called the album’s “bright freshness.”
<p>In addition to breezy solos from Hackett and Hyman, guitar solos add an attractive edge to this very worthy tribute (Joe Puma, George Barnes and Jimmy Mitchell are the session’s guitarists). <i>Bobby Hackett Plays The Music Of Bert Kaempfert</i> is among the best of the Kaempfert tributes and the closest any of these recordings come to jazz. Hackett’s Mancini and Kaempfert’s tribute discs were combined for a single – and highly recommended – CD release in 2002.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGmzI1t7M38u4PrGYNi4KHDpmtwhW1m0-hmav-qRjyMSM9ETRsURPiq2Xxou6BvlKumygSpWQJ4-Zuzp02br3Oj2wYixmwKFM58xVvDY041ymwcQpCDVeaTNFqWWpVce6yk-dFs5qINaYScgjJaAG_6kmrglaYHT46PPl_Fcfsd3mnMB6kQ/s600/bk_kerr.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGmzI1t7M38u4PrGYNi4KHDpmtwhW1m0-hmav-qRjyMSM9ETRsURPiq2Xxou6BvlKumygSpWQJ4-Zuzp02br3Oj2wYixmwKFM58xVvDY041ymwcQpCDVeaTNFqWWpVce6yk-dFs5qINaYScgjJaAG_6kmrglaYHT46PPl_Fcfsd3mnMB6kQ/s400/bk_kerr.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>The Anita Kerr Singers: Bert Kaempfert Turns Us On (1967)</b>
<p>Anita Kerr (1927-2022) wrote, arranged and conducted scores of records in the sixties and seventies for herself and many others. She also led a quartet of vocalists called the Anita Kerr Singers – based in Nashville in the early sixties (mostly in a country bag), Los Angeles in the late sixties (all in decidedly easy tempos) and in Europe thereafter in a variety of secular and non-secular circumstances.
<p>Kerr had previously recorded a tribute to Henry Mancini and would later record one to Burt Bacharach. Released in mid-1967, <i>Bert Kaempfert Turns Us On</i> seems to suggest the German bandleader’s hit compositions were cool – the way your dad’s music is cool to you. Popular though they may have been, these songs were most likely <i>not</i> embraced by the Summer of Love crowd.
<p>The hits covered here are an impressive lot: “Wonderland by Night” (1961) for Anita Bryant (the 1960 instrumental was Kaempfert’s first international hit), “Danke Schoen” (1963) and “Remember When” (1965) for Wayne Newton, “Spanish Eyes” (1965) for Al Martino, “Love” (1965) for Nat King Cole, “Strangers in the Night” (1966) and “The World We Knew” (1967) for Frank Sinatra, “I Can’t Help Remembering You” (1967) for Dean Martin and “Lady” (1967) for Jack Jones.
<p>But Kerr turns down the heat and volume to such a degree that what we get are pretty, though ultimately, downer dirges. It sounds all hushed and dreamy, in a way meant to lull – or scare – children or listeners right to sleep.
<p>Among the album’s few surprises are “Two Can Live on Love Alone,” which no one else seems to have ever covered, a slightly rousing “A Swingin’ Safari” replete with a jaunty set of lyrics (credited to someone named “Tansey”) and “For Bert,” a musically clever though lyrically confusing bit of fun from Kerr and lyricist Rod McKuen.
<p>While seven of this album’s dozen songs were recorded by Johnny Mathis in Hamburg with longtime Kaempfert arranger Herbert Rehbein in 1970 for <i>Johnny Mathis Sings the Music of Bacharach and Kaempfert</i>, Kaempfert himself recorded “For Bert” on his 1975 album <i>Love Walked In</i> (which was never released in the US). <i>Bert Kaempfert Turns Us On</i> has been issued on CD in several variations.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5cQs88_A6g3NxdabguvWDqmc1V2A5HpHq89cqyc602QkmCQm4SyCWHW6S3dOBlppHqVS20KdmusTdICQNbeeSN-jSbJ0XtcSnnfEtNq9RgOSWrSAqnmV2uPXIwNYPOLrjS3y96mlktGPUT7BCZ0nWSHGhhiqzjqgXufWKhxkI4g4w9Jz-g/s600/bk_fountain.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5cQs88_A6g3NxdabguvWDqmc1V2A5HpHq89cqyc602QkmCQm4SyCWHW6S3dOBlppHqVS20KdmusTdICQNbeeSN-jSbJ0XtcSnnfEtNq9RgOSWrSAqnmV2uPXIwNYPOLrjS3y96mlktGPUT7BCZ0nWSHGhhiqzjqgXufWKhxkI4g4w9Jz-g/s400/bk_fountain.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>Pete Fountain Plays Bert Kaempfert (1967)</b>
<p>This may be the most notable, if not the best, of all the Bert Kaempfert tribute albums discussed here. Pete Fountain (born Pierre Dewey Fountaine, Jr. in New Orleans), was already a veteran of Lawrence Welk’s orchestra and the Dukes of Dixieland and owned and operated a popular club in New Orleans’s French Quarter.
<p>In early 1967, Fountain (1930-2016) traveled to Hamburg, Germany to record his own Bert Kaempfert tribute album – with no less than Bert Kaempfert’s own orchestra! Kaempfert’s lifelong musical associate Herbert Rehbein (1922-79) did the arrangements and Bert himself provided two new tunes to the program: “For Pete’s Sake” (also the album’s single) and the marvelous, though all too-brief “Have a Ball.” Neither tune ever popped up on Kaempfert’s own recordings.
<p>All the usual suspects are here, including the then-recent hit take of “Strangers in the Night” – listed correctly as “A Theme From The Universal Picture ‘A Man Could Get Killed’,” even though no song of that title is on that soundtrack album. But Fountain seems to be on low burn. None of the fervor or swagger of New Orleans followed him to Hamburg. While there is a pleasant addition of marimba on some tracks, the producer (Fountain’s regular, Charles “Bud” Dant, and not Milt Gabler, Kaempfert’s regular helmsman) unwisely tamped down Ladi Geisler’s signature “Knackbass” throughout.
<p>This safari doesn’t swing hard or often enough, but when it does it’s worth hearing. “For Pete’s Sake” was featured some years back on a Bert Kaempfert CD anthology, but the full album has yet to appear on CD.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhuTzZOZ_aYQotb4LK4wCcbpSLG2aycWri0VnXfJZJDS42nTvE9jV3F3fpKJznIDpE7TPwtbaX6mMUjcQuic_mOGe7W5XBh-fejm36jqEdJHWKXq07gZP6JNiGRhJgSnm80uA-WZx7yUTNhoUGaouUx4EjwPtKkwKGaA4vBkvgVDKgot8FQ/s599/bk_hirt.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhuTzZOZ_aYQotb4LK4wCcbpSLG2aycWri0VnXfJZJDS42nTvE9jV3F3fpKJznIDpE7TPwtbaX6mMUjcQuic_mOGe7W5XBh-fejm36jqEdJHWKXq07gZP6JNiGRhJgSnm80uA-WZx7yUTNhoUGaouUx4EjwPtKkwKGaA4vBkvgVDKgot8FQ/s400/bk_hirt.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>Al Hirt Plays Bert Kaempfert (1968)</b>
<p>Dixieland trumpeter Al Hirt (1922-99) found fame in the mid-sixties as a hit instrumentalist on such catchy numbers as “Java” and “Cotton Candy.” But he was more than just a purveyor of novelty numbers. His long career was devoted to jazz and the music of his native New Orleans as well as the popular fare of the day. In his only album devoted to a single composer, Hirt recorded this tribute to Bert Kaempfert in 1967 (officially released in January 1968).
<p>Bert Kaempfert had previously covered Hirt’s hits “Java” and “Cotton Candy” on his 1964 album <i>Blue Midnight</i>. Hirt, for his part, had covered such Kaempfert trifles as “Strangers in the Night,” on the 1965 disc <i>Al Hirt Live at the Al Hirt Club</i> (also here) and, most notably, “Yo Yo (Puppet Song)” (a.k.a. “Monte Carlo”) on the trumpeter’s 1967 disc <i>Music to Watch Girls By</i>.
<i>Al Hirt Plays Bert Kaempfert</i> (better known as <i>Hirt Plays Bert</i>) is a real feast, or trumpeter’s treat. While the disc’s liner note tries to convey a collaboration of Hirt and Bert – which it is surely not (the album was recorded in Nashville) – the disc surprisingly and successfully replicates a Kaempfert recording. Ace arranger Lenny Kirkland provides better than suitable arrangements and Hirt’s swinging horn really adds something muscular to the program.
<p>Highlights include the Flamenco take on “Spanish Eyes,” the almost funky “Afrikaan Beat,” “A Swingin’ Safari,” and the surprisingly engaging “Sweet Maria” – all benefiting from Kirkland’s subtlety effective work (his lovely take on “Wonderland by Night” is worth savoring as well). Hirt masters the otherwise downbeat “Danke Schoen” in a way that must have made Kaempfert proud.
<p>While this is hardly the Hirt-Bert collaboration it proports to be, it is far better than a merely fair approximation. It’s a shame that Hirt and Bert never actually worked together. This is another album that has never appeared on CD.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6NR85pYvb3VkdixKvG4Grjm0nj3Po0LGhJovzWzCro7pHcLGHa16LW1soHJgdd75zT0vEon_Yg7DT2GEwNcrQbtP67VbpfUtWqAp4q8ocPCRFz4m1t_wJ_awMwhVwwCfVhE7aNtSeboeE1fmLG8SHX49vEHZMKCtfVz1L1XM4wvlcYnVeA/s508/bk_strings.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="508" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6NR85pYvb3VkdixKvG4Grjm0nj3Po0LGhJovzWzCro7pHcLGHa16LW1soHJgdd75zT0vEon_Yg7DT2GEwNcrQbtP67VbpfUtWqAp4q8ocPCRFz4m1t_wJ_awMwhVwwCfVhE7aNtSeboeE1fmLG8SHX49vEHZMKCtfVz1L1XM4wvlcYnVeA/s400/bk_strings.jpg"/></a></div><p><b>Living Strings Plus Trumpet Play Bert Kaempfert Hits (1969)</b>
<p>In the sixties, the budget label RCA Camden sponsored a huge number of easy-listening collections by such studio outfits as the Living Voices (for which the aforementioned Anita Kerr helmed several recordings), Living Brass, Living Guitars, Living Marimbas and Living Percussion.
<p>The label’s best-known entity, however, was the Living Strings, which produced scads of easy-listening tributes and collections that literally became the model for what is now known as “elevator music.” These things flew off the shelves of grocery stores, drug stores and five and dimes – for those old enough to remember such venues selling LPs back in the day.
<p>The brainchild of Ethel Gabriel (1921-2021) – one of the earliest women executives at any record label and producer of acclaimed records by Elvis Presley, Henry Mancini and Perry Como – the Living Strings was “formed” or created in 1959 and recorded dozens of albums through 1980. There was no such orchestra as the “Living Strings” per se. Studio musicians were recorded around the world to produce records that were ultimately to become known as the Living Strings.
<p>After tributes to The Monkees, Jim Reeves and more than a few musicals – not to mention a record to help you stop smoking – the Living Strings put out an album-length tribute to Bert Kaempfert. The studio group had previously covered Kaempfert’s “Danke Shoen” on <i>Sentimental Journey</i> (1964) and the delightful “Jingo Jango” on its <i>White Christmas</i> (1968). This one was recorded in England, where Kaempfert and fellow German band leader James Last had a huge following.
<p>Beautifully arranged by the British bandleader Geraldo and German ex-pat Bernard Ebbinghouse (John Barry, Cliff Richard), this 1969 tribute is far better than any skeptic might guess. The strings are, as expected, lush and vibrant. But the album actually swings more than expected, particularly on the usually dour “Danke Schoen,” which has a positively Count Basie vibe about it, and the almost anthemic “L.O.V.E.” Or, as the album boldly claims: “A Striking Combination of Lavishness and Spirit!” If that means anything.
<p>Predictably, the arrangers stick with Kaempfert’s prettier tunes (which is why they were hits in the first place), but they make wise choices throughout. The set opens with a lovely take of “Spanish Eyes,” adding a marimba undercurrent that seems nicely informed by “Spanish Harlem.” It’s a whole new way of hearing this overly familiar melody. Combining the marimba with Spanish guitars gives “Wonderland by Night,” Kaempfert’s first American hit, a romantic feel straight out of an old movie.
<p>The gorgeous “The World We Knew,” whose strings and electric bass suggest John Barry’s score to <i>On Her Majesty’s Secret Service</i>, particularly “We Have All the Time in the World.” The ethereal “Sweet Maria” and “(You Are) My Way of Life” would also hardly sound out of place on a James Bond soundtrack as heard here.
<p> This is a set that no doubt pleased Kaempfert – who began using more strings on his own recordings around this time. It’s easy to enjoy and among the best of the sets in this bunch. Unfortunately, <i>Living Strings Plus Trumpet Play Bert Kaempfert Hits</i> never found its way on to CD but is easily available and well worth hearing on streaming services.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-62905214520754046552023-05-16T17:00:00.000-04:002023-05-16T17:00:49.709-04:00The Essential Don Sebesky<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLRsNOTsnHHtRyNJORUnvjACDhTodv9Feu281s_c0XJDLaKBRI4Nn6yy6ayrDBV_2jBCr7F-kMeh0gIOeOswS6euRc3uqxWMPe_NVRh0oGY4IIlX65iOEEK_zpiQgLPDMeQQRbSvcpli84RlQKYNI6FTErSk9fHCpUTAWWn3zGIed0zUgduA/s334/don5.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLRsNOTsnHHtRyNJORUnvjACDhTodv9Feu281s_c0XJDLaKBRI4Nn6yy6ayrDBV_2jBCr7F-kMeh0gIOeOswS6euRc3uqxWMPe_NVRh0oGY4IIlX65iOEEK_zpiQgLPDMeQQRbSvcpli84RlQKYNI6FTErSk9fHCpUTAWWn3zGIed0zUgduA/s320/don5.jpg"/></a></div><p>The composer, arranger, conductor and record producer Don Sebesky wrote film and TV scores, orchestrated Broadway productions and worked on the classier albums by such pop vocalists as Barry Manilow, Christina Aguilera, Rod Stewart, Michael Bublé, Bette Midler, Barbara Streisand, Seal and John Pizzarelli.
<p> But Sebesky, who passed away on April 29 at age 85, was – by most accounts – best known for some of the most important and memorable jazz records of the sixties and seventies. Many of these were produced by Creed Taylor for the Verve, A&M and CTI labels by such artists as Wes Montgomery, George Benson, Paul Desmond, Freddie Hubbard, Hubert Laws and others.
<p>This was a period when jazz was in flux, notably from the rise of pop music and finally, rock and roll. Sebesky rode the wave, adapting many pop and rock hits – notably Beatles covers – and wound up finding his voice on jazz-inflected covers of classical tunes. When the whole fusion thing devolved into the “smooth jazz” of the early eighties, Sebesky completely opted out.
<p>Many think Sebesky cheapened jazz with his arrangements. But either they weren’t listening or they just were plain wrong. Rather than superimposing his charts on soloists, Sebesky would often consider his additions as part of the group. Just like jazz. This made Sebesky stand out from the crowd. His work helped craft what became the “CTI sound” – often replicated but never matched.
<p>Like a film that doesn’t call attention to its direction, Sebesky’s charts only made great (and often legendary) soloists sound even better.
<p>In the spirit of the <i>New York Times</i>, my original intention here was to spotlight the “ten essentials” associated with Don Sebesky’s vast body of work – over sixty years’ worth of recordings. The recordings run the gamut of big band, jazz, crossover and fusion to pop, cabaret, Broadway and light classics.
<p>But I could only pare the list down to 15 songs, the majority of which originally appeared on Creed Taylor productions from the mid-sixties to the early eighties. Many of these pieces are jazz classics and some are forgotten gems. But if I’ve missed anything you think is important, please feel free to leave a message below.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="EXh20Yu-xyg" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EXh20Yu-xyg"></iframe></div><p><b>”Bumpin’” – Wes Montgomery (1965)</b>
<p>The first pairing of guitarist Wes Montgomery with arranger Don Sebesky was initially met with much hostility. But more than half a century later, “Bumpin’” has withstood the test of time. It’s neither as florid as some thought nor as dated as much other material from this period turned out to be. Montgomery’s haunting melody (not to be confused with the more popular “Bumpin’ on Sunset”) is perfected by Sebesky’s subtle string and pizzicato harp counterpoints. The arranger ramps up the drama for a brief but stirring string crescendo (04:18-04:58) that allows the guitarist to go out with the embers of lovely harp arpeggios. It’s the epitome of economy and elegance.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="psvs4axQ10A" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/psvs4axQ10A"></iframe></div><p><b>”A Day in the Life” – Wes Montgomery (1967)</b>
<p>The Beatles’ intriguing, complex and trippy “A Day in the Life” receives a positively dazzling reading here. It’s often considered the Fab Four’s greatest song and Wes Montgomery’s cover is among the finest jazz cover of any Beatles song. Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter and Grady Tate lay down a swampy blues groove that propels Montgomery on a signature course. The guitarist positively owns the melody here and solos off it beautifully. For the first four minutes of this “Day,” Sebesky only hints at what’s to come: single-note vibes counterpoints, strings and harps rumbles, bass flute riffs leading to impending doom string flourishes. Sebesky wisely opts not to orchestrate George Martin’s “end of the world” bridge to the song’s “middle eight” section (“Woke up, fell out of bed…”), perhaps sensing it wasn’t easily copied or bettered. He goes full-on orchestral during McCartney’s “ahh ahh ahhh” interlude in a blend of strings and horns that surely made Martin proud. (McCartney supposedly told producer Creed Taylor that he particularly admired Montgomery’s cover of “A Day in the Life.”) Sebesky’s dreamy (druggy?) fade-out is an atonal, though melodic, wash that finds Montgomery gamely contributing avant-garde chords of his own. For earlier evidence of Sebesky’s talent with strings, check out saxophonist Charlie Mariano’s cover of Russ Freeman’s “The Wind” on <i>A Portrait of Charlie Mariano</i> (1963), a magnificent recording.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="IF25MMkbLUA" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IF25MMkbLUA"></iframe></div><p><b>”Up and At It” – Wes Montgomery (1968)</b>
<p>This might seem an unusual choice of “essential” Don Sebesky as there’s so little Don Sebesky to be heard here. But that’s the point. “Up and At It” is Wes at his funky best, with Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter and Grady Tate driving the guitarist along. It hardly needed any sweetening and, indeed, it doesn’t get much. What Sebesky does contribute are brief counterpoints: one-note vibes chords (reacting to Carter’s bass), a small string section (first echoing Montgomery’s melody, then later riffing off his solo) and three barely audible flutes. “Up and At It” is the pinnacle of poetry in Montgomery and Sebesky’s musical relationship. Like the best of Sebesky’s work, it’s subtle and effective in crossing a good performance over the finish line to great. Sebesky would apply a similar approach to Montgomery’s “Goin’ on to Detroit” (also from <i>Down Here on the Ground</i>), George Benson’s “Footin’ It” and Paul Desmond’s ethereal take on “El Condor Pasa.”
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="TQYrYnNiiZU" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TQYrYnNiiZU"></iframe></div><p><b>”Forget” – Jack Sheldon (1968)</b>
<p>In the late sixties, Don Sebesky produced and arranged two little-known albums for trumpeter and vocalist Jack Sheldon (best known today for<i>Schoolhouse Rock!</i>’s “Conjunction Junction” and “I’m Just a Bill”). Both sets mix pop hits of the day – Sebesky’s Wes-like take on “The Look of Love” is especially notable – with Sebesky originals. This one, the Spanish-tinged “Forget,” is one of Sebesky’s very best compositions. Sheldon’s beautifully mournful trumpet imbues Sebesky’s signature melody with the haunted romanticism of its title. It’s a torch song in the best tradition. “Forget” was later covered by violinist Jean-Luc Ponty, trumpeter Blue Mitchell (with Lee Ritenour and Harold Land) and Brazilian organist Walter Wanderley. Surprisingly, “Forget” was never covered on a CTI album, which may be why the song isn’t much better known. It’s a beauty, though.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="gk8CHAp5gEc" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gk8CHAp5gEc"></iframe></div><p><b>”Guru-vin” – Don Sebesky with Larry Coryell (1969)</b>
<p>Before Don Sebesky shifted to more serious work, adapting classical composers to jazz and devoting tributes to the canonical (Sondheim, Ellington, Bill Evans), he adopted scores of pop, rock, Beatles and charting R&B of the day to jazz. He also composed terrifically engaging pieces of crossover work. The cleverly-titled “Guru-vin,” from Sebesky’s all but forgotten 1969 master patchwork <i>The Distant Galaxy</i> (often considered the artist billing as well as the album title), is one such piece. “Guru-vin” taps as much into the psychedelic music of the day as well as seemingly poking fun of it. Guitarist Larry Coryell mans the electric sitar here while studio vocalist Lois Winter pairs with a high horn section for a melodic counterpoint. The funky “Guru-vin” was never issued as a single and didn’t find an audience until decades later when it was revived as part of the acid jazz movement. Sebesky’s “Beatles strings” (toward the end) add just the right spice to this East-meets-West mash-up that knows how to get down. Coryell, who also guested on Sebesky’s Beatles covers “Lady Madonna” (from <i>The Distant Galaxy</i>) and the earlier “The Word” (from the 1969 album <i>Don Sebesky & The Jazz Rock Syndrome</i>) would reunite with Sebesky many years later on the guitarist’s 1993 disc <i>Fallen Angel</i> and the arranger’s 1998 disc <i>I Remember Bill – A Tribute to Bill Evans</i>.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="jBkTHskJcX0" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jBkTHskJcX0"></iframe></div><p><b>”The Court of the Crimson King” – Doc Severinsen (1970)</b>
<p>This bravura piece of writing is based on the only hit British prog rockers King Crimson ever had. By all accounts, Sebesky was a fan. Sebesky’s brilliant and complex makeover is fusion of the highest order, worthy of any CTI record (Sebesky also produced here). The arranger pairs six horn men off in remarkable fashion: the trumpets of Doc Severinsen and John Frosk, the trombones of Rod Levitt and Paul Faulise, and Stan Webb on flute and Tommy Newsome on tenor sax. Mention should be made of the terrific support work of Joe Beck on acoustic guitar (giving those sections the Spanish flair Sebesky would later patent), the Fender Rhodes of either Derek Smith or Ross Tompkins and the flawless drums of longtime Severinsen ally Ed Shaughnessy. This “Court of the Crimson King” is what a James Bond soundtrack might sound like if it had more jazz.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="zP3U7BfmHG4" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zP3U7BfmHG4"></iframe></div><p><b>”Scarborough Fair/Canticle” – Paul Desmond (1970)</b>
<p>This traditional English ballad was adapted by Paul Simon for Simon & Garfunkel, whose version was featured on the hit soundtrack to <i>The Graduate</i>. Sebesky had already arranged the song for the Soul Flutes and was Grammy-nominated for his uniquely Baroque arrangement of “Scarborough Fair” for Wes Montgomery (both 1968). But this is the version to hear. It comes from an album Sebesky produced and arranged for alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, <i>Bridge Over Troubled Water</i>, a set devoted to songs written or adapted by Paul Simon (the two Pauls shared the same agent). Considering Desmond wasn’t especially familiar or comfortable with Simon’s music, the album is a triumph. Credit Sebesky not only for the record’s artistic success but its considerable pleasures. Sebesky is not often celebrated for his commendable ability with traditional and contemporary folk music, but “Scarborough Fair” is among his best. Also of note here are Sebesky’s take on “Mrs. Robinson,” also from <i>The Graduate</i>, and the breathtaking album opener “El Condor Pasa.”
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="TRTETD-oHqE" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TRTETD-oHqE"></iframe></div><p><b>”The Rite of Spring” – Hubert Laws (1971)</b>
<p>Russian composer Igor Stravinsky’s ballet “The Rite of Spring” caused quite an uproar when it debuted in Paris in 1913. Experimenting with tonality, meter, rhythm and dissonance, Stravinsky’s piece was considered scandalously avant-garde by the French audience at the time. It’s all grist for Sebesky’s mill. In his variation, Sebesky weaves several of the ballet’s themes together – notably, the ballet’s signature solo bassoon opening (Part 1 – Adoration of the Earth: “Introduction”) and the first dance, “Augurs of Spring” – as a nine-minute feature for flautist Hubert Laws. Sebesky and Laws had collaborated on classical themes by Bach, Debussy and Fauré – all of which likely pleased the collaborators more than jazz fans. None of those other classics swung as well as “The Rite of Spring” does here. Especially notable here are David Friedman on vibes, Ron Carter on bass, Jack DeJohnette on drums and Bob James on keyboards. Sebesky would revisit “The Rite of Spring” on his 1979 album <i>Three Works for Jazz Soloists & Symphony Orchestra</i> (a.k.a. <i>Compositional Jazz</i>): it’s a bit more orchestral than this but offers a wide array of great jazz soloists. This is the one to dig.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="F4KluQT0ZAo" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/F4KluQT0ZAo"></iframe></div><p><b>”White Rabbit” – George Benson (1972)</b>
<p>While it’s not certain whose idea it was for guitarist George Benson to cover this 1967 hit by the Jefferson Airplane, it was Sebesky who opted to cast Grace Slick’s original in a Spanish mode. Curiously, Slick based the song’s text on Alice in Wonderland, while the music she composed was informed by Miles Davis’s album <i>Sketches of Spain</i>, particularly that album’s centerpiece “Concierto de Aranjuez” – a piece we’ll come back to here. Sebesky uses Jay Berliner’s acoustic guitar and John Frosk’s trumpet to set the Spanish mood. Benson, Herbie Hancock and Hubert Laws solo. Surprisingly, this sort of thing may have seemed passe by 1971. But, like “The Court of the Crimson King,” Sebesky imbues the whole affair with an air of timelessness.
<p><b>Sidebar:</b> Some of George Benson’s most enjoyable – read: guitar-oriented – music during his CTI years is courtesy of Don Sebesky. These include “Footin’ It” (1968 – a song co-written with Benson and later sampled for Faith Evans’s “Mesmerized”), “Water Brother” (1969), “I Remember Wes” (1973) and “Serbian Blue” (1974).
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="zc6sZVhdOXw" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zc6sZVhdOXw"></iframe></div><p><b>“Firebird/Birds of Fire” – Don Sebesky (1973)</b>
<p>Don Sebesky’s 1973 album <i>Giant Box</i> is surely the composer and arranger’s magnum opus. It is one of the few double-disc sets on CTI and has more stars than a late-night sky. It also contains some of Sebesky’s best writing. The album’s opener, “Firebird/Birds of Fire,” originally took up the whole of the record’s first side. This mash up of Igor Stravinsky and the Mahavishnu Orchestra may not even be the album’s finest moment – there are many here – but it is a striking and successful blend of jazz with the classics. Hubert Laws and Freddie Hubbard solo and Margaret Ross is on harp.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="bdPEr3sfEcU" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bdPEr3sfEcU"></iframe></div><p><b>“Psalm 150” – Don Sebesky (1973)</b>
<p>This curious, though clever, Jimmy Webb anthem seems to have been championed by Don Sebesky. He first arranged the piece – whose lyrics are derived from the final Psalm of the Bible – for trumpeter Doc Severinsen’s 1971 album <i>Brass Roots</i>. The little-known song appears to have been written for the British group Revelation for its eponymous (and only) 1970 album. Shortly thereafter, the song’s composer featured “Psalm 150” on his own album <i>Words and Music</i>. Coming out of the period that brought “Spirit in the Sky” (1969), not to mention <i>Godspell</i> (1970) and <i>Jesus Christ Superstar</i> (1971), “Psalm 150,” a.k.a. “Psalm One-Five-O,” seemed poised to make something of itself. (For the record, Sebesky lifted the Beatles’ appropriation, “He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah,” directly from Webb’s original.) To these ears, the appeal of “Psalm 150” to Sebesky was Webb’s unusual and provocative melody. It is also one of the highlights of Sebesky’s <i>Giant Box</i>. Jackie & Roy sing the lead (after Sebesky himself offers an acapella Latin incantation), with (probably) Sebesky on Fender Rhodes, Ron Carter on bass and Billy Cobham on drums. Outstanding soloists here include Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Ron Carter on bass and Bob James on organ. Sebesky’s charts throughout are magnificent and recall Lalo Schifrin’s work on <i>Rock Requiem</i> (1971).
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="sog9Cc0VhdQ" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sog9Cc0VhdQ"></iframe></div><p><b>”Footprints of the Giant” – Don Sebesky (1975)</b>
<p>“[M]y favorite composer is [Hungarian composer Béla] Bartók,” said Don Sebesky in his <i>Giant Box</i> interview with Didier Deutsch. “I think he’s probably the premier composer of the 20th century.” Sebesky’s earliest reflection on the themes of Bartók is the magisterial “Footprints of the Giant.” Originally written by Sebesky for the 1970 album <i>Doc Severinsen’s Closet</i>, this “Giant” – from Sebesky’s second CTI album, <i>The Rape of El Morro</i>, amps up the rock on this slice of jazz-meets-the-classics ephemera. It features Michael Brecker (and brother Randy in the piece’s intentionally avant-garde intro), a Hendrix-ized Joe Beck on guitar, the electric violin of David Rose and supersonic drummer Steve Gadd. It is noteworthy that Beck also soloed on the Severinsen version of “Footprints” as well. Sebesky would reconsider the Hungarian composer on his “Bird and Bela in B flat,” from the 1979 album <i>Three Works for Jazz Soloists & Symphony Orchestra</i>, what the composer dubbed as a “musical account of an imaginary meeting of Charlie ‘Bird’ Parker and Bela Bartok.”
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="nvMq86JX1GU" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nvMq86JX1GU"></iframe></div><p><b>”Concierto de Aranjuez” – Jim Hall (1975)</b>
<p>Guitarist Jim Hall’s performance of Joaquin Rodrigo’s “Concierto de Aranjuez” is surely among CTI’s greatest artistic triumphs. Gorgeously arranged in a remarkably minimalist fashion (no strings or horns were overdubbed in the making of this classic) by Don Sebesky, “Concierto de Aranjuez” features a stunning performance by not only the guitarist but offers lush solos from Chet Baker on trumpet and Paul Desmond on alto sax. The rhythm section is helmed beautifully by Roland Hanna on piano, Ron Carter on bass and Steve Gadd on drums. Like the 1960 presentation of the tune by Miles Davis and Gil Evans, Hall and Sebesky wax poetic on only the second of the 1939 composition’s three movements. But what is conveyed here is truly outstanding. Each and every second of this nearly 20-minute performance is well worth savoring. Don Sebesky would provide Hall with a sequel of sorts in “Lament for a Fallen Matador,” an adaptation of Tomaso Albioni’s well-known Adagio in G minor, for the guitarist’s 1977 album <i>Commitment</i>. The guitarist would again record “Concierto de Aranjuez,” this time with David Matthews – the man who succeeded Sebesky as CTI’s in-house arranger – on the 1981 Japanese album <i>Concierto de Aranjuez</i> (issued on CD in America in 1992). This version of the Rodrigo classic was considerably more orchestral and featured Hall, rather less distinctively, on acoustic guitar.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="DAMQa6TDArQ" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DAMQa6TDArQ"></iframe></div><p><b>”El Morro” – Chet Baker (1977)</b>
<p>Sebesky originally conceived this Spanish-hued piece as the title track to his 1975 CTI album <i>The Rape of El Morro</i>, where, according to the album’s liner notes, its working title was “Spanish Blood.” There it was a feature for Michael Brecker, Roland Hanna and explorative vocalist Joan La Barbara. Brecker returns to Sebesky’s epic original to share the spotlight here with trumpeter Chet Baker for this more polished version, now simply titled “El Morro,” from Baker’s 1977 album <i>You Can’t Go Home Again</i>. The album, produced, arranged and conducted by Sebesky, is a mix of old and new, with “El Morro” successfully falling somewhere in between. Indeed, it’s the album’s centerpiece and not inaptly described by Baker biographer James Gavin as “a cross between Miles Davis’s <i>Sketches of Spain</i> and a Hollywood bullfighting scene.” With John Scofield adding the appropriate flamenco touch on acoustic guitar, Baker serves up one of the most muscular, dynamic and hypnotic performances of his entire career. He seems very much to be staking his claim on “El Morro” as his own “Aranjuez.” Driving him on are Hubert Laws on flute and piccolo, Richie Bierach on electric piano (who is denied a much-deserved solo), Ron Carter – who is high up in the mix here and who also played on the original – and Tony Williams, low in the mix, on drums. When outtakes from these 1977 sessions were issued in 1989 on the Baker album <i>The Best Thing for You</i>, a 17-minute “alternative composite take” of “El Morro” appeared that added an electric guitar solo from Scofield and the percussion and (Airto-like) vocals of Arto Tunchboyachi. Both versions of “El Morro,” as well as a 13-minute “incomplete take” of the tune, are included on the two-disc CD of <i>You Can’t Go Home Again</i> issued in 2000.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="Oi1ibWOh8uw" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Oi1ibWOh8uw"></iframe></div><p><b>”Malagueña” – Chet Baker/Jim Hall/Hubert Laws (1982)</b>
<p>Don Sebesky likely encountered Cuban composer Ernesto Lecuona’s most famous piece, “Malagueña,” in Stan Kenton’s band in the late fifties. Kenton recorded his own arrangement of the song several years before Sebesky joined the band, but it was likely still in the band’s book at the time. This 1982 performance comes from one of CTI’s last great albums, <i>Studio Trieste</i>, a forum nominally led by trumpeter Chet Baker, guitarist Jim Hall and flautist Hubert Laws (though often credited solely to Hall). Like Sebesky’s arrangement for Jim Hall’s “Concierto de Aranjuez” (and the whole of the album <i>Concierto</i>), ”Malagueña” is scored for the soloists with a small group of supporters. At the risk of repeating myself: No strings or horns were overdubbed in the making of this classic. Baker, Hall and Laws are substantially supported only by Kenny Barron (who solos) on electric piano, George Mraz on bass and Steve Gadd on drums. Mraz, who isn’t as high in the mix as Ron Carter so often is on his CTI discs, acts as the matador to the soloists. A close listen reveals that everyone here is listening to everyone else. It is a performance that positively dances, absolutely swings. Each moment of the all-too brief <i>Studio Trieste</i> is magical. But ”Malagueña” is undoubtedly the album’s greatest moment.
<p>In 1992, producer Creed Taylor edited this recording of ”Malagueña” as a feature for Jim Hall and overdubbed an “additional” arrangement by Jim Pugh for <i>Youkali</i>, a set of updated takes on previous recordings the guitarist made for the CTI label. Sebesky, for his part, would later record ”Malagueña” – in a very similar arrangement but with equally compelling soloists, including Eddie Daniels, Jim Pugh (!), Alex Foster and son Ken Sebesky – on his 1985 album <i>Moving Lines</i>, whose 1989 CD release cops – without credit – Alen MacWeeney’s liner photo from <i>The Rape of El Morro</i>. Hubert Laws also recorded a compelling Sebesky arrangement of ”Malagueña” (which also reunited Sebesky with vocalist Joan La Barbara) on the 1993 disc <i>My Time Will Come</i>.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-89031763704132739902023-05-03T18:13:00.000-04:002023-05-03T18:13:12.348-04:00Don Sebesky<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrznieRT-LXMv_w1Hbd3wOr9fPi8yT8EDfsUYcqULidKATi9nUlhuYQq0T59cGs9EaQBadnh1rAPHq2nbTr4jUA5vRM4xrZPt8pclcho5MLzCFFGzLoo7qcX-Jxg3g06sxxjG4Pjlz0XfOXEKLd0xVdteWMXBKW2LSHxK-Pf7zorSOm5JLlg/s800/doc2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrznieRT-LXMv_w1Hbd3wOr9fPi8yT8EDfsUYcqULidKATi9nUlhuYQq0T59cGs9EaQBadnh1rAPHq2nbTr4jUA5vRM4xrZPt8pclcho5MLzCFFGzLoo7qcX-Jxg3g06sxxjG4Pjlz0XfOXEKLd0xVdteWMXBKW2LSHxK-Pf7zorSOm5JLlg/s400/doc2.jpg"/></a></div><p>The composer, arranger, author, orchestrator and conductor Don Sebesky passed away on Saturday, April 29, 2023, after “a struggle with post-stroke Parkinsonism.” He was 85.
<p>Don Sebesky orchestrated many Broadway musicals, scored several films and arranged some of the most elegant discs by such pop vocalists as Christina Aguilera, Michael Bublé, Carly Simon, Barbara Streisand, Michael Feinstein, Rod Stewart, Liza Minelli and Barry Manilow.
<p>But it is Sebesky’s work as an arranger for such jazz greats as Wes Montgomery, Hubert Laws, Freddie Hubbard, Chet Baker, George Benson and Paul Desmond that he is best known and, for most, highly revered. Those who don’t like any sweetening in their jazz, however, likely would not appreciate the genuine artistry and the collaborative innovations Sebesky brought to jazz – some of the greatest music of its time.
<p>Sebesky started his multi-varied music career in the late fifties playing trombone in the bands of Maynard Ferguson and Stan Kenton. Ferguson encouraged Sebesky to write and arrange for the band and it turned out he had an innate gift for subtle orchestration and swinging big-band writing. (This is the guy who wrote “In the Mod” – yes, you read that right – for The Glenn Miller Orchestra in the sixties!)
<p>One of Sebesky’s first jobs outside of the Ferguson band was arranging and producing the wonderful <i>A Portrait of Charlie Mariano</i> (1963) for saxophonist Charlie Mariano, himself a veteran of the Kenton band. The album became a calling card for Sebesky as it attracted the attention of jazz producer Creed Taylor.
<p>Taylor hired Sebesky to arrange guitarist Wes Montgomery’s 1965 album <i>Bumpin’</i>. The guitarist initially had difficulty fitting his sound in to the orchestra. Taylor solved the problem by proposing that Montgomery and the rhythm section do their thing <i>first</i>. Sebesky could, after the fact, build his charts around the guitarist’s solos.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqdZIHextO9SyP5tlRnmpURNd6jGsqxrNRiiGZxRQKhxhRsMQtwvcj6N2Aa3by552fedD67WCluLLHwrAG1jBfjcFvVWC1_8MgF79z4qY5-ccE53f73jJmWoElk3HA0lcTz9xXqALVATBBPWqT4SGv9HPMtCzDfUqHErG8LIoEm8CylgXKw/s633/don1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="501" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrqdZIHextO9SyP5tlRnmpURNd6jGsqxrNRiiGZxRQKhxhRsMQtwvcj6N2Aa3by552fedD67WCluLLHwrAG1jBfjcFvVWC1_8MgF79z4qY5-ccE53f73jJmWoElk3HA0lcTz9xXqALVATBBPWqT4SGv9HPMtCzDfUqHErG8LIoEm8CylgXKw/s320/don1.jpg"/></a></div><p>“It worked,” Sebesky later said. “We then used this approach for all of Wes’s albums, we used it for most of the albums Creed and I did for other artists as well. It became the basis for the ‘CTI sound.’” Indeed, Sebesky and Taylor worked together on dozens of albums over the next three decades.
<p>“The musicians came up with licks that I then adopt as motifs or use as segues between sections. Writing this way makes me feel like I am part of the rhythm section, part of the nucleus of the ensemble.”
<p>Jazz listeners know Don Sebesky best for the records he arranged for Creed Taylor during the sixties and seventies on the Verve, A&M and CTI labels. That’s partly because most of these records were very popular and also because they are some of the best and classiest jazz discs of its time.
<p>Sebesky’s touch, particularly on the records he did with Taylor, is consistently more supportive than sweetening, more counterpoint than point-making and more collaborative than commanding. He always knew how to make great players sound either great or greater.
<p>Sebesky’s most memorable work with Taylor includes Wes Montgomery’s <b><i>Bumpin’</i></b> (1965), <b><i>A Day in the Life</i></b> (1967 – the title track is among Sebesky’s finest writing) and <b><i>Road Song</i></b> (1968 – Sebesky’s arrangement of this album’s “Scarborough Fair” was nominated for a Grammy); Freddie Hubbard’s Grammy Award winning <b><i>First Light</i></b> (1971 – Sebesky’s arrangement of this disc’s “Lonely Town” was also Grammy-nominated); Hubert Laws’ <b><i>Afro-Classic</i></b> (1971), <b><i>The Rite of Spring</i></b> (1973 – Sebesky’s arrangement of this album’s title track was Grammy-nominated) and the Grammy-nominated <b><i>Morning Star</i></b> (1973); George Benson’s Grammy-nominated <b><i>White Rabbit</i></b> (1972); Jackie & Roy’s <b><i>Time & Love</i></b> (1972 – Sebesky’s arrangements of “Day by Day” and “Lazy Afternoon” here were Grammy-nominated); Milt Jackson’s <b><i>Sunflower</i></b> (1973); Chet Baker’s <b><i>She Was Too Good to Me</i></b> (1974); Jim Hall’s Grammy-nominated <b><i>Concierto</i></b> (1975) and the magnificent <b><i>Studio Trieste</i></b>, a 1982 all-star date headlined by Chet Baker, Jim Hall and Hubert Laws.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJdZHjRnlPDI-2nHNqyAs0KBnGcrmbbH_J7J96BRxlyJFoLDgeRPIgy1zwG4hRxyPSzuKDuorqndczwSSjZRJm-Fh_OtQCX48gw60w-6_fyfST7xMRF-yYLxOtT8op1h4B3Qit6i4VmB04o0IlMLtGoW3VvEtutWi5HAAk179o0ljfPuuqw/s1000/don4.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="897" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJdZHjRnlPDI-2nHNqyAs0KBnGcrmbbH_J7J96BRxlyJFoLDgeRPIgy1zwG4hRxyPSzuKDuorqndczwSSjZRJm-Fh_OtQCX48gw60w-6_fyfST7xMRF-yYLxOtT8op1h4B3Qit6i4VmB04o0IlMLtGoW3VvEtutWi5HAAk179o0ljfPuuqw/s400/don4.jpg"/></a></div><p>Don Sebesky’s own CTI double-disc set <b><i>Giant Box</i></b>, from 1973, is an ambitious and amazingly peopled all-star date that was Grammy-nominated (as was the album’s signature piece, “Firebird/Birds of Fire”) and is likely Sebesky’s best and best-known recorded document.
<p>Soloists on <i>Giant Box</i> are a virtual who’s-who of jazz (all signed to CTI at the time) and include George Benson, Paul Desmond, Joe Farrell, Jackie & Roy, Milt Jackson, Milt Jackson, Bob James, Hubert Laws, and Grover Washington, Jr. The double-disc box set also features bassist Ron Carter, drummers Jack DeJohnette and Billy Cobham, percussionists Airto Moreira, Rubens Bassini and Ralph MacDonald as well as a bevy of famed New York studio musiicians.
<p>Sebesky put out a handful of records under his own name between 1969 and 1999 – sometimes featuring his work on a variety of keyboards and most all Grammy-nominated – for the Verve, CTI, Gryphon, GNP, Doctor Jazz and Angel labels as well as the Grammy Award-winning discs <i>I Remember Bill – A Tribute to Bill Evans</i> (1998) and <i>Joyful Noise – A Tribute to Duke Ellington</i> (1999), both for RCA.
<p>As arranger, Sebesky also worked on a number of fine albums outside of Creed Taylor’s orbit (many of which Sebesky also produced himself) for Paul Desmond, Dizzy Gillespie, Chet Baker, Eddie Daniels, Franco Ambrosetti, Ron Carter, Chris Hunter and Stanley Turrentine – all well worth hearing.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlRk5pheyOFRsnZDME21NdEEPHz_LHYdklxncx-IvoxNQvgWFD-0dOw4Kudk3PJVfzQWj8FufeQZqoWWD2oqHHt5isxexR55T0AthxRlfBjczp954U0mCp2zTCYu8W5vT96IJB-2ibaEeM6KKrXatWbLzcTPyKXOaSCymQr95NeEuocmKPQ/s375/don3.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="320" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlRk5pheyOFRsnZDME21NdEEPHz_LHYdklxncx-IvoxNQvgWFD-0dOw4Kudk3PJVfzQWj8FufeQZqoWWD2oqHHt5isxexR55T0AthxRlfBjczp954U0mCp2zTCYu8W5vT96IJB-2ibaEeM6KKrXatWbLzcTPyKXOaSCymQr95NeEuocmKPQ/s320/don3.jpg"/></a></div><p>My most recent encounter with Don Sebesky was on guitarist Rordrigo Lima’s “Flying Waltz,” a lovely track from his exceptional disc <i>Saga</i> (2014), produced by Arnaldo DeSouteiro, with Hubert Laws and Hugo Fattoruso. Sebesky’s writing for strings here is – and always was – sublime and exceptional.
<p>”By drawing on both his jazz and classical knowledge,” wrote Leonard Feather and Ira Gitler in <i>The Encyclopedia of Jazz in the 70s</i>, “Sebesky has placed these featured artists in orchestral settings that reflect many hues and timbres, thereby making their music readily accessible to a wider ranging audience.”
<p>Sebesky literally wrote the book on his art, <i>The Contemporary Arranger</i>, first published in 1975 and updated a decade later. Aside from composing many terrific originals (“Guru-vin,” “Water Brother,” “El Morro,” “I Remember Bill,” etc.), Sebesky has also brilliantly arranged and adapted a myriad of classical themes in jazz contexts by such composers as Johann Sebastian Bach, Béla Bartók, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Gabriel Fauŕe, Igor Stravinsky, Claude Debussy, Heitor Villa-Lobos, Henry Purcell, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov and Sergei Rachmaninoff.
<p>I’ve written enthusiastically over the years about Sebesky’s work with CTI artists as well as those recordings he did on his own and those Sebesky did with Jack Sheldon, Dizzy Gillespie, Cal Tjader, Doc Severinsen and Larry Coryell, among others.
<p>While his is hardly a household name, Don Sebesky – like all the great arrangers – is the man behind the curtain. He brought magic to other’s music. His musical signature is, as he correctly notes, a key factor in the now legendary “CTI sound.” This makes Don Sebesky one of the greatest contributors to jazz in the last half of the twentieth century.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-69266212340441511232023-05-02T10:00:00.036-04:002023-05-02T10:00:00.143-04:00Airto Moreira and Flora Purim Need Our Help<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dmwX1fLCZmProuRGl_6pPpKBLMKmiOgLnBKavs_V-5or0HWq02EUTFuaW80_fqBAuN7dvJbKLK4OF6y3bg9hEbqg4ipV4duJEeU0R-fQjye6scJ0OJA6qI3xM75FxU0EIx1T7Z5WhHmz4bsCjEWz0hrhlETcRV3fxdNQsRhPlGCL8HSYuw/s700/airtoflora.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="700" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dmwX1fLCZmProuRGl_6pPpKBLMKmiOgLnBKavs_V-5or0HWq02EUTFuaW80_fqBAuN7dvJbKLK4OF6y3bg9hEbqg4ipV4duJEeU0R-fQjye6scJ0OJA6qI3xM75FxU0EIx1T7Z5WhHmz4bsCjEWz0hrhlETcRV3fxdNQsRhPlGCL8HSYuw/s400/airtoflora.jpg"/></a></div><p>The Brazilian jazz icons Airto Moreira and Flora Purim have had more than their fair share of challenges over the past few years. After many years in the United States, Airto and Flora are now back in their native Brazil, where both are facing worsening health and housing conditions.
<p>"Airto and Flora's living situation is rapidly becoming unsustainable,” says daughter Diana Moreira Booker, “with no health insurance and a large increase in rent at their current location. Doctors tell us that a large part of Airto's recovery depends on an immediate change of their living environment so a move is imminent. The family is currently working toward making this happen but we cannot do this alone."
<p>Airto Moreira (b. 1941) and Flora Purim (b. 1942) are Brazilian jazz royalty. Both came to America in 1967 (they were married several years later) and each went on to stellar careers, making significant contributions to American jazz and fusion/crossover as well as pop and world music.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8hIUH4XhUkz39GvvLP2ZetAM8tj_ha9lxcmCxrn7x_NRIv-m3XH0oXiAoEt-lfa6-lPgt1fFTU_EGpNLUdI8TAFPDr17C2LJxxt195vyWS76jBtpwF26ZRKGQq4793fKvcj-qpmrRzzHRta2f8d4Al2jowZWz4LNLj2ug9nDJhElNy9LHg/s720/airto1.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8hIUH4XhUkz39GvvLP2ZetAM8tj_ha9lxcmCxrn7x_NRIv-m3XH0oXiAoEt-lfa6-lPgt1fFTU_EGpNLUdI8TAFPDr17C2LJxxt195vyWS76jBtpwF26ZRKGQq4793fKvcj-qpmrRzzHRta2f8d4Al2jowZWz4LNLj2ug9nDJhElNy9LHg/s400/airto1.jpg"/></a></div><p>Airto, a particularly persuasive percussionist, vocalist and songwriter, recorded and toured with Miles Davis for nearly two (extensively recorded) years, was a founding member of two of jazz fusion’s greatest groups (Weather Report and Return to Forever) and waxed four albums for the CTI label while contributing to some three dozen CTI albums by such artists as Antonio Carlos Jobim, Freddie Hubbard, George Benson and Deodato’s monster hit “Also Sprach Zarathustra (2001).” Airto is also known for such exceptional compositions of his own as “Xibaba,” “Tombo in 7/4” and the great “Misturada.”
<p>There’s no doubt I have heard Airto since I started listening to music. But the first time Airto rivetted me and my attention was on Bob James’ exquisite “Snowbird Fantasy,” from the keyboardist’s 1980 album <i>”H”</i>. The earliest disc I have featuring Airto is the 1965 album <i>À vontade mesmo</i> by trombonist Raulzinho (a.k.a. Raul de Souza), who kindly autographed my copy of the 2001 CD (Raul and Airto reunited in the late seventies on many recordings made on the West Coast). Airto is incredible here (on drums), then came back years later to me with 1979’s “Amajour” (with incredible solos from Herb Alpert and Joe Farrell!) and, later, on the terrific all-star date <i>Killer Bees</i> in 1993.
<p>Airto’s lovely appearance in Kristian St. Clair’s documentary <i>This is Gary McFarland</i> (2006) always stands out in my mind as one of his most beautiful performances (McFarland co-produced Airto’s 1970 solo debut, <i>Natural Feelings</i>). This is Airto Moreira, to me.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-we2CC-MekyloKV8icsxJd5TdYheBtPey4Z5bJSUjjhgT06RegwkCvu4MiMUUw3DARcaaQbbBN0Umw0lrrLd5pFobF4q-K0wIvGZp-9xpInC1S7IxXMTp__5dxlN4njNFwlbRu61LpR37veU5WkZ_ss15iMTwQT9tGFgNaZCXXaXMDp43pw/s612/airto2.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="379" data-original-width="612" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-we2CC-MekyloKV8icsxJd5TdYheBtPey4Z5bJSUjjhgT06RegwkCvu4MiMUUw3DARcaaQbbBN0Umw0lrrLd5pFobF4q-K0wIvGZp-9xpInC1S7IxXMTp__5dxlN4njNFwlbRu61LpR37veU5WkZ_ss15iMTwQT9tGFgNaZCXXaXMDp43pw/s400/airto2.jpg"/></a></div><p>Flora, the iconic and immediately recognizable vocalist and songwriter, released her first album, the wonderful <i>Flora é M.P.M.</i>, in 1964 (produced for CD in 2001 by my good friend Arnaldo DeSouteiro – who worked often with Flora and Airto). Flora toured Europe with Stan Getz and Gil Evans in the late sixties and put out her critically-lauded American record, <i>Butterfly Dreams</i>, in 1973 on the Milestone label.
<p>Many of Flora’s Milestone records (1973-78) paired her beautifully with Joe Henderson – much of which is included on the saxophonist’s glorious 1994 box set <i>The Milestone Years</i>. After a series of crossover records for Warner Bros., Flora spent many years touring with Dizzy Gillespie, Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart and, with Airto, the Fourth World band.
<p>It has always impressed me that author Len Lyons considered Flora’s 1976 album <i>500 Miles High</i> one of the <i>The 101 Best Jazz Albums: A History of Jazz on Records</i>, the influential 1980 book that considered the entire history of jazz to that point.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="kevKSTC65ug" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kevKSTC65ug"></iframe></div><figcaption><i>Airto Moreira's terrific "Misturada" performed LIVE at Jazz Is Dead for the Airto Moreira Benefit Concert, October 25, 2022. More can be found at</i> https://www.jazzisdead.com/uploadevents/airto-moreira?rq=airto <i> - with daughter Diana on lead vocals.</i></figcaption><p>Airto and Flora have continued recording and touring, up to Flora’s 2022 disc <i>If You Will</i>, for the great British Strut label. But, according to daughter Diana, “Airto has suffered many ailments over the past few years. He has been unable to continue with his therapist.
<p>”Flora is also now experiencing her own health challenges. Having been separated for a while, Flora is back in Brazil with Airto but they really could use some home help, a therapist and a move.”
<p>The family is asking for help. Anything we could do to help is much appreciated. If you can do anything to help Airto Moreira and Flora Purim, please go here:
<p>https://www.gofundme.com/f/airto-moreiras-rehabilitation
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20115328.post-7766996507682496342023-04-29T20:15:00.002-04:002023-04-29T20:21:18.063-04:00Alternative Guitar Summit – “Honoring Pat Martino, Volume 1” (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyLig13lMXLshDs5ScllgT12uCd9Uvg4Jaivjtn1MqMkFdteFC1TBHNAaEgVntf4rCQHO2vkZwyyJPJvWa_qRTDArfJoeV5JYc3-9LtAwywvOeMLypXB6KRWTlgSyRkC_AzYJhPFOAaj50Zt6NIcB9_btD2ELnTfAuOJjH2lcAx0hR9uapQ/s522/HighNote7333.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyLig13lMXLshDs5ScllgT12uCd9Uvg4Jaivjtn1MqMkFdteFC1TBHNAaEgVntf4rCQHO2vkZwyyJPJvWa_qRTDArfJoeV5JYc3-9LtAwywvOeMLypXB6KRWTlgSyRkC_AzYJhPFOAaj50Zt6NIcB9_btD2ELnTfAuOJjH2lcAx0hR9uapQ/s400/HighNote7333.jpg"/></a></div><p>The guitarist, composer, educator and author Joel Harrison (b. 1957) founded the Alternative Guitar Summit (AGS) in 2010 as an annual jazz guitar collective of “daring, inventive players who emphasize new and unusual approaches to the guitar.”
<p>The collective features an ever-changing cast of jazz guitarists, from the well-known and well-recorded to new talent coming up through the ranks. (I’m frankly amazed by how many terrifically distinctive guitarists from multiple generations there are these days – so many of whom work with Joel Harrison as part of the AGS.)
<p>To date, this Pat Martino tribute disc is the AGS’s sole release under that moniker.
<p>While AGS traditionally does its thing live in front of an audience in the New York club scene, all such facilities were effectively shuttered in March 2021 when the AGS assembled for this tribute, due to the Covid pandemic lockdowns. Harrison therefore booked a Brooklyn studio, gathered some of New York’s finest guitarists and set up video cameras to capture it all.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLX1xdW2HKIlcyuTCp5GsyGhikbazptvuvS1NUMSIcsGaQt5gLkGZ0CVimHTAlY2dw8jxSCWRXNIGTA9i6csCnSXfHsaNYgAOA06BmliqJzVCApUNYVNUD2Y0H9sAJ-mdboJBVlsYAEFrMyNVoR_2xdeaylQO3qePmuBZivYtDfHvFH52ZQ/s400/Joel-Harrison.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="262" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLX1xdW2HKIlcyuTCp5GsyGhikbazptvuvS1NUMSIcsGaQt5gLkGZ0CVimHTAlY2dw8jxSCWRXNIGTA9i6csCnSXfHsaNYgAOA06BmliqJzVCApUNYVNUD2Y0H9sAJ-mdboJBVlsYAEFrMyNVoR_2xdeaylQO3qePmuBZivYtDfHvFH52ZQ/s400/Joel-Harrison.jpg"/><figcaption>Joel Harrison</figcaption></a></div><p>Much of the nine tracks on <i>Honoring Pat Martino</i> were caught at that gig, which the honoree himself, who was ill at the time, was able to Zoom in to. Pat Martino would be gone eight months later.
<p>While this superb tribute disc claims to celebrate Pat Martino the guitarist – surely a noble effort in its own right – my sense is that it goes a lot further in honoring Pat Martino the composer. Both aspects of Martino’s character are well worth noting. Eight of the nine tunes featured here are Martino compositions, but – oddly – none are from the guitarist’s productive Prestige years (1967-70).
<p>Harrison, however, curates an impressive range of Martino originals here, including “Willow” and Martino’s fairly well-known “On The Stairs,” originally from the guitarist’s album <i>Consciousness</i> (1974); the splendid “Line Games” and “Joyous Lake,” from the fusion album <i>Joyous Lake</i> (1976); “Black Glass” from <i>Interchange</i> (1994); “Noshufuru,” from <i>The Maker</i> (1995); “Country Road,” from <i>Nexus</i> (c. mid 90s); and “Inside Out,” from <i>Undeniable</i> (2011). The only cover here is J.J. Johnson’s classic “Lament,” originally appearing on Martino’s <i>We’ll Be Together Again</i> (1976).
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="FYuctREXeTM" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FYuctREXeTM"></iframe></div><p>Somewhat surprisingly, there are no outright nods – at least here – to Wes Montgomery, one of Martino’s greatest influences, or Martino’s own memorable Montgomery tribute, “The Visit.”
<p>A whopping baker’s dozen of guitarists weigh in here, beautifully paying tribute to Martino’s keen sense of melody, singing and swinging tone and singular dexterity.
<p>The guitarists on the March date are nicely paired on each tune and include Adam Rogers and Peter Bernstein on “Inside Out,” Sheryl Bailey and Ed Cherry on “Willow,” Rez Abbasi and Jeff Miles on “Noshufuru,” Dave Stryker and Paul Bollenback for “On the Stairs,” and Nir Felder and Oz Noy on “Joyous Lake” – all backed by Dezron Douglas on bass and Allan Mednard on drums.
<p>Other guitarists include Kurt Rosenwinkel (“Black Glass”), Russell Malone (the solo “Lament”), Harrison himself (“Country Road,” also solo), and a guitarist I’m sorry to say I completely lost track of over the years, Fareed Haque, who plays “Line Games” on his 1974 Ramirez flamenco guitar – the album’s lone acoustic guitar. (“Line Games” also appears on a 2022 disc-length Pat Martino tribute by Fareed Haque titled <i>Return to the Joyous Lake</i> that is available after a bit of digging from fareed.com.)
<p><i>Honoring Pat Martino</i> coalesces nicely and is especially well programmed. There is a terrific balance of each of the guitarists’ individual personalities with the style and sound of the guitarist they’re honoring.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="-Gpf9HEuMFU" width="400" height="322" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-Gpf9HEuMFU"></iframe></div><p>With nary a dud in the bunch, highlights for this listener include Fareed Haque’s take on “Line Games” (with Kevin Kozol neatly riffing off Gil Goldstein), Sheryl Bailey and the underrated Ed Cherry on the beautifully Wes-ish “Willow” and the inspired pairing of Dave Stryker and Paul Bollenback on the fiery “On the Stairs.” The disc reaches a high mark on “Joyous Lake,” an underrated Martino tune from a critically neglected period in the guitarist’s career, helmed by the magnificent fret work of Nir Felder and Oz Noy.
<p>It’s worth noting that <i>Honoring Pat Martino</i>’s associate producer is Philadelphia violinist Joe Donofrio, who contributed to Martino’s 1976 album <i>Starbright</i> and produced several of the guitarist’s albums, including <i>Formidable</i> (2017), Martino’s final recording.
<p>Here’s hoping there’s a second volume of <i>Honoring Pat Martino</i> on the way. And here’s hoping that HighNote, one of America’s last great jazz labels, might consider putting out more discs by Joel Harrison’s Alternative Guitar Summit.
<p>According to AGS’s web site, the collective’s next scheduled event is August 21 to 25, 2023, at the Full Moon Resort in the Catskills, with Bill Frisell, Marc Ribot, Rodney Jones, Camila Meza, Kurt Rosenwinkel (who mans “Black Glass” here), Gilad Hekselman, Wayne Krantz, Joel Harrison and others.
Douglas Paynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16566227636904708488noreply@blogger.com0