Buddy Montgomery This Rather Than That (Impulse 1969)

The blues-oriented album of vibraphonist and pianist Buddy Montgomery, This Rather Than That, also includes excellent modern jazz playing.

Buddy Montgomery - Rather This Than That

Personnel

Buddy Montgomery (vibraphone, piano), Melvin Rhyne (organ), Jody Christian (piano A4, B1), Manty Ellis (guitar A4, B1), Monk Montgomery (Fender Bass A1, A2, B1, B2, B4), Jimmy Rowser (bass A3, A4), George Brown (drums A1-4, B1, B4)

Recorded

on September 10 & 11, 1069 at Universal Recording Cooperation, Chicago

Released

as Impulse AS-9292 in 1969

Track listing

Side A:
This Rather Than That
Tin Tin Deo
Rose Bud
Stormy
Side B:
Willy Nilly Blues
Beautiful Love
Didn’t We
Winding Up


Family ties: Buddy, of course, was the younger brother of Wes Montgomery and bassist Monk Montgomery, who’s also present on this album. Buddy and Monk were ‘buddies-in-crime’ in The Mastersounds from ‘57 to ‘61, a popular, accessible jazz group that also included Wes Montgomery on one album. (Kismet, World Pacific 1958) From ‘55 to ‘61, the three brothers also starred as the Montgomery Brothers, but they played together well into the period when Wes had become a bonafide jazz star. Buddy was part of the tour that ended so tragically with the passing of Wes due to a heart attack shortly after on June 15, 1968, in their hometown of Indianapolis. Also on this album is another Indianapolis-born musician, organist Melvin Rhyne, who appeared on four acclaimed Wes Montgomery albums. An Indy cousin, so to speak.

Following the death of Wes, Buddy Montgomery mainly concentrated on jazz education, although he kept on recording sporadically as a leader as well as a sideman with old pals in the late eighties and early nineties. (Bobby Hutcherson’s Cruisin’ The Bird, Charlie Rouse’s Epistrophy, David “Fathead” Newman’s Blue Head) Perhaps a place in the background suited Buddy Montgomery best.

Having said that, Buddy’s up front on the front cover of This Rather Than That. What about the fruit and vegetables? I’m not sure what he’s holding in his right hand. Looks like citrus and a pomegranate in his left hand. The symbol of fertility. The Egyptians believed that eating pomegranates granted immortality. The Greek godess Persephones was sent back to Hades every six months because she ate six pomegranate seeds. Heretics say that it was the pomegranate that lured Adam and Eve from paradise. It looks like Buddy is due at the Apollo Theatre for his Wednesday night juggling act.

Buddy Montgomery utilised a focused linear approach, quicksilver, definite phrasing and notes that allure like drops of fountain water. His notes ring shortly, matter-of-factly, more in the vein of Lionel Hampton than Bobby Hutcherson. Buddy Montgomery was an excellent, all-round vibraphonist. He’s very compatible with the tasteful Melvin Rhyne, who’s the king of understatement.

The blues tracks are backbeat-heavy, funky. Monk Montgomery’s electric bass playing (Monk Montgomery pioneered the use of Fender Precision bass in jazz as early as 1951 and featured it strongly with The Mastersounds) perfectly suit the blues tunes, but seriously barricades swing from the modern jazz cuts, in spite of Monk’s top-notch chops. Fine modern jazz has been played with the use of the electric bass. But to my ears, it has a hard time bringing coherence to the overall jazz sound in comparison to the way the upright bass does. The upright bass is for modern jazz what the rug is for Jeffrey ‘The Dude’ Lebowski: it really ties the room together. Luckily, as in Tin Tin Deo, Buddy Montgomery and Rhyne share swinging responsibilities. Accompanied by deft, chubby organ chords, Buddy’s ultra-fast, probing lines slither like vipers in the grass, constantly moving forward. Rhyne answers the call and, regardless of the fast tempo, patiently builds a story free of clichés and counterfeit climaxes.

The group also performs a lush waltz-version of the show tune Beautiful Love. The finishing touch to a quirky but enjoyable album of jukebox blues and modern jazz.

Eddie Daniels First Prize (Prestige 1966)

Eddie Daniels is a jazz saxophonist who turned into a master of classical music. Or no, Eddie Daniels is a concierto clarinetist who played modern jazz with the best of his generation. Well, yes on both counts but not exactly… At any rate, his 1967 recording debut as a leader on Prestige, First Prize, is a monster album.

Eddie Daniels - First Prize

Personnel

Eddie Daniels (tenor saxophone, clarinet), Roland Hanna (piano), Richard Davis (bass), Mel Lewis (drums)

Recorded

on September 8 & 12, 1966 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey

Released

as PR 7506 in 1967

Track listing

Side A:
Felicidad
That Waltz
Falling In Love With Love
Love’s Long Journey
Side B:
Time Marches On
The Spanish Flee
The Rocker
How Deep Is The Ocean


Born in Brooklyn, New York City in 1941, Eddie Daniels started on alto at the age of 9, then studied clarinet on Juillard at 13. Daniels also mastered the tenor, soprano and baritone saxophone, as well as the flute. His first professional job was on tenor saxophone with clarinetist Tony Scott at the Half Note in the fall of 1965. Daniels filled a sax chair in the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra in the late sixties and early seventies, but it was on clarinet that Daniels first gained recognition as part of that highly acclaimed group, winning Downbeat Magazine’s New Star On Clarinet competition in 1966. Daniels developed into a virtuoso of both jazz and classical music, a rare accomplishment. Accolades from a certain duo of renowned ‘Leonards’ comprise ample proof of Daniel’s reputation:

Leonard Feather: ‘It is a rare event in jazz where one man can all but reinvent an instrument bringing it to a new stage of revolution.’

Leonard Bernstein: ‘Eddie Daniels combines elegance and virtuosity in a way that makes me remember Arthur Rubinstein. He is a thoroughly well-bred demon.’

Daniels was a sought-after player who was part of, subsequently, the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra from 1966-72 and the Bobby Rosengarden Orchestra, the house band of the Dick Cavett Show, from 1972-78. Onwards from the eighties, Daniels concentrated more and more on his clarinet work in classical music. His jazz discography includes side dates on Dave Pike’s The Doors Of Perception, Freddie Hubbard’s live album The Hub Of Hubbard, Don Patterson’s The Return Of Don Patterson, Yusef Lateef’s Ten Years Hence and George Benson’s Benson & Farrell. As a leader, Daniels followed up First Prize with the Japanese Columbia album This Is New. Further albums include A Flower For All Seasons, his 1973 cooperation on Choice with guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli, with whom Daniels would build a life-long association, 1988’s Memos From Paradise and 2013’s Duke At The Roadhouse.

In 1966, Daniels also won The International Competion For Modern Jazz on saxophone in Vienna, Austria. Hence, presumably, the title of his debut album. On First Prize, Daniels is supported by the rather unbeatable rhythm crew of the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra, Mel Lewis, Richard Davis and Roland Hanna. Daniels is quite impossible to beat himself. A strong, alternately breathy and piercing tenor sound, which occasionally goes up to the alto register, facilitates an exuberant, flexible style that brings to mind Sonny Rollins and, to a lesser extent, John Coltrane. Clearly in utter control of the tenor, clearly laboring with love, Daniels playfully juggles with tender swing-era whispers and behind-the-beat slurs, perfect legato sections and ferocious forward motion flights and sheets of sound.

Latin-type tunes, like Felicidad and The Spanish Flee, start tenderly and breathy and end up squeezed out like blocks of oak wood in a shredder. It’s overwhelming, not so much because Daniels is showing his fists, but instead is in perfect command of his ferocity. The section in Felicidad in which the tumbling notes of Daniels ricochet off Hanna’s percussive chords is particularly enamouring. Just as well, Daniels relishes standards like Falling In Love With Love, developing a striking contrast between a partly slurred, rubato theme and a hi-octane bebop solo. Hanna chimes in with chubby, Silver-type chords and flowing right hand lines that reveal a definite liking for Bud Powell. The brush work of Mel Lewis carries the tune, it’s steady, holding in check toying Mr. Daniels, while simultaneously providing an almost ethereal sound carpet, like a lake of gentle gulves that roll upon the shore. Throughout the album, the rhythm trio is obviously having fun on a very high musical level.

On clarinet, Daniels is ambidextrous and imposing. Time Marches On employs a classical (overdubbed) theme, seguing into a gentle bossa tune. The Rocker reveals Daniels’ ability to bebop on the instrument, as he fills the uptempo burner with notes that bounce to and fro, much like pinballs that race through the limetless little halls and creviches of an Escher drawing. The organic, wooden sound of the clarinet and the lyrical and muscular lines of Eddie Daniels bring added depth to an album that was already very impressive as a modern tenor sax job. An overwhelming debut.

First Prize is not on Spotify or YouTube. however, Daniels’ version of John Coltrane’s Giant Steps from his second album, This Is New, (listen here) gives a good impression of his mastery of the tenor saxophone. Also on YouTube are a number of instructions that Eddie Daniels gave a couple of years ago as an endorser for Backun. Hear Eddie talk about the blues here, speed and agility here and his dexterity on reed, clarinet and woodwind here. Confident, witty, flexible, just like his music. A handsome man to boot, could’ve been George “Rosemary’s Nephew” Clooney’s older brother.

Les McCann Ltd. Plays The Truth (Pacific Jazz 1960)

In the sixties pianist Les McCann was a crowd favorite. It met with suspicion by more than a few critics, certainly those of the trendsetting Downbeat Magazine. John S. Wilson, one of its reviewers, derided McCann’s gospel style laced with ‘glib, often-lively but essentially anonymous piano with down-home bounce.

Les McCann Ltd. - Plays The Truth

Personnel

Les McCann (piano), Leroy Vinegar (bass), Ron Jefferson (drums)

Recorded

in February 1960, Los Angeles

Released

as PJ-2 in 1960

Track listing

Side A:
Vacushna
A Little ¾ For God & Co
I’ll Remember April
Fish This Week
Side B:
How High The Moon
This Can’t Be Love
For Carl Perkins
The Truth


At one time, as musicians occasionally did, McCann sent a message to Downbeat’s letter section, Chords & Discords:

“I hear Downbeat has been saying some rather bad things about us. Thank you.”

Damn deadpan funny. But was it sarcastic as well? Did McCann also imply that criticism often lacks a feeling of responsibility? Jazz was a tough way of making a living and bad press could hurt business considerably. At least a few of the legends expressed this opinion, notably in drummer Art Taylor’s revealing book of interviews, Notes And Tones.

The dislike of the ‘subjective criticism’ of one man is understandable. But on the other hand: hey, it was their livelihood as well, you know. Lest we forget, a lot of musicians themselves weren’t shy to comment on the efforts of their colleagues in Leonard Feather’s famous Downbeat section, the Blindfold Test.

At any rate, downplaying Les McCann as a bluesy cocktail pianist was rather pointless. Let’s take a look at Plays The Truth, McCann’s debut album for Pacific Jazz. Evidently, McCann is a tunesmith of catchy compositions grounded in church life and Afro-American culture. Two of them on Plays The Truth are impossible to get out of your head and why would you want to? A Little 7/8 For God & Co is a delightful melody that’s attuned to a merrily bouncing rhythm. It swings heavily in the middle section, courtesy of drummer Ron Jefferson, walkin’ bass master Leroy Vinegar and McCann himself, who couples a firm left hand with boogiewoogie-infested right hand lines. The trio brings to mind the effortless swing of Oscar Peterson’s classic outfit including Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen. The tacky and irresistable, uptempo Fish This Week, reminiscent of those nifty and funky Ray Bryant tunes, evokes the luscious laughter and frivolous chit chat of a saturday night fish fry. McCann builds an articulate, ferocious solo of rollicking lines all over the keyboard, bringing to mind iconic masterminds like Teddy Wilson and Earl Hines.

His ballad renditions – I’ll Remember April and This Can’t Be Love – are typified by sentimental intro’s and hard driving middle sections. There is enough uptempo, blues-drenched soul jazz on this album to rock more than a few joints, so a cautious use of blues playing and a constraint on the formulaic loud/soft-dynamics in these ballads would’ve benefited the overall picture. Obviously, Plays The Truth reveals a hard-swinging player without any strong ideas about comprising a coherent LP. Title track The Truth is a variation on slow blues song Trouble In Mind. It’s alluring after hours-music. McCann’s move into a faster tempo after four beguiling, slow dragging minutes comes across as a rather superfluous device. A dedication to his friend, pianist Carl Perkins (a Miles Davis favorite), For Carl Perkins, is a very satisfactory blend of fat, sustained chords and uplifting trio interplay. Stop-time theme Vacushna includes the surprise of a change of key and swings like mad. McCann, typically, puts the groove into these kind of affairs from note one.

An exciting trio player, arguably McCann’s even better in the company of reeds, brass or organ, settings that called for concise solo’s and which highlighted his sprightly accompanying gifts. Cases in point: Live in New York including Stanley Turrentine and Blue Mitchell, Richard “Groove” Holmes’ Something Special, the Jazz Crusaders and Les McCann cooperation Jazz Waltz and Stanley Turrentine’s That’s Where It’s At. In 1969, McCann succesfully crossed over with the jazz funk cooperation with saxophonist Eddie Harris, Swiss Movement, spawning the Billboard chart hit Compared To What. (which also was recorded by McCann “discovery” Roberta Flack the same year) The following decades, McCann essentially sustained his formula of a ‘jazzified’ r&b and soul player and singer. A whole different ballgame. Since the late 00’s, the 81-year old McCann has kept a low profile, only occasionally performing with saxophonist Javon Jackson.

Jazz isn’t worth a penny without blues and gospel. And the sixties-era Les McCann is a blues and gospel player at heart, a preacher, communicator, entertainer. For an illustration of the way McCann captivated audiences, watch this incredible live footage from McCann’s tour in France in 1961.

Glib? Come on!!!

Freddie Hubbard Open Sesame (Blue Note 1960)

Freddie Hubbard’s celebrated debut as a leader on Blue Note, Open Sesame, is as much a Tina Brooks album than a Hubbard album.

Freddie Hubbard - Open Sesame

Personnel

Freddie Hubbard (trumpet), Tina Brooks (tenor saxophone), McCoy Tyner (piano), Sam Jones (bass), Clifford Jarvis (drums)

Recorded

on June 19, 1960 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey

Released

as BLP 4040 in 1960

Track listing

Side A:
Open Sesame
But Beautiful
Gypsy Blue
Side B:
All Or Nothing At All
One Mint Julep
Hub’s Nub


Aweek later, Hubbard played on True Blue (read review here), the only album by Tina Brooks released during the undervalued tenorist’s lifetime. At the start of Hubbard’s career, Brooks proved to be a suitable springboard for the young trumpet player from Indianapolis. In later life, Hubbard lovingly commented on his mentor to Michael Cuscuna. “I loved Tina. He would write shit out on the spot and it would be beautiful. He wrote Gypsy Blue for me on the first record, and I loved it. I just loved it. Tina made my first record date wonderful. He wrote and played beautifully. What a soulful, inspiring cat.” (From: the liner notes of The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Tina Brooks, Mosaic) Yet, Hubbard never used Brooks again for other sessions.

Gypsy Blue is a readily recognisable melody with a real gypsy jazz feeling and a cookin’ 4/4 section. Brooks wrote Open Sesame as well, a purebred hard bop tune. Great vehicles for Hubbard’s vital trumpet playing. At 22, Hubbard is buoyant and confident. On his debut, as modern jazz-minded Hubbard may be in the tradition of Clifford Brown and Fats Navarro, the newly arrived trumpet star, perhaps surprisingly, also brings to mind Louis Armstrong: the unabashed joy that speaks from his frivolous, virtuoso phrases, the exceptional range, the powerful notes that carry from one village to another, calling the children home. Imposing, and the audience hadn’t as yet seen a fully grown Hubbard. 1961’s Hub Cap, Ready For Freddie and Hub-Tones showcase a progressively mature Hubbard with adventurous choices of notes and more dark-hued phrasing. Surely, Hubbard’s pairing to many of Blue Note’s top-rate artists as well as Art Blakey in the fall of 1961 (Hubbard played with Blakey from 1961-64, appearing on, among others, Mosaic and Ugetsu) certainly have helped him find his own voice. So rapid was Hubbard’s evolution, that by late ’60 and early ’61 both Ornette Coleman and John Coltrane were happy to be assisted by the trumpeter on, respectively, Free Jazz and Ole Coltrane.

The fact that the immaculate Tina Brooks never reached the recognition that others off his day received, amazes to this day. Brooks certainly was tough competition for Hank Mobley, Junior Cook and Jimmy Heath. In any case, he’s an essential hard bop player. As the title track Open Sesame shows especially, Brooks threads unexpected paths where ordinary tenorists would opt for safe coda’s, either holding a long, gutsy note in suspension, or jumping to an off-centre triplet, meanwhile dropping meaningful pauzes in between. Brooks has a sinewy tone, a little rough around the edges for extra flavour and slighty drags behind the beat. His smokin’ stories brim with fresh ideas and slowly but surely pick up steam, sometimes by means of a churning out of notes deep from the inner parts of his fragile body, notes that traveled a long way and are just dying to jump out into the woods.

Open Sesame also features McCoy Tyner. The promising pianist had appeared on many recordings as a sideman, his debut as a leader on Impulse, Inception, followed in 1962. In 1961, Tyner completed John Coltrane’s eponymous group including Elvin Jones and Jimmy Garrison. Tyner’s comping brings a sense of urgency, his lines are lyrical and move rapidly in the upper register. Completing the line up are drummer Clifford Jarvis and bassist Sam Jones. Jarvis was 19 years old. Imagine how it must’ve felt to participate in one of those countless sessions at Rudy van Gelder’s magical Englewood Cliffs studio! Wet behind the ears, Jarvis nevertheless is unperturbed, swinging propulsively and providing resonant, well-placed accents. The 36-year old Sam Jones, one of the most sought-after bassists in possession of great walkin’ bass abilities and a definite down home bounce, was part of The Cannonball Adderley Quintet, with the landmark live album The Cannonball Adderley Quintet In San Francisco and his debut as a leader on Riverside, The Soul Society, under his belt. Freddie Hubbard couldn’t have asked for a better outfit to assist him in his rise to prominence as a new star on the trumpet.

Joe Henderson The Kicker (Milestone 1967)

After a series of vanguard jazz releases and collaborations on Blue Note in the mid-sixties, Joe Henderson switched to Orrin Keepnews’ Milestone label and delivered the more straightforward, hard-swinging album The Kicker. Relatively more straightforward. Henderson’s characteristic, adventurous playing style has remained intact. An absolutely sizzling album.

Joe Henderson - The Kicker

Personnel

Joe Henderson (tenor saxophone), Mike Lawrence (trumpet), Grachan Monchur (trombone), Kenny Barron (piano), Ron Carter (bass), Louis Hayes (drums)

Recorded

on August 10 & September 27, 1967 at Plaza Sound Studios, New York City

Released

as Milestone 9008 in 1968

Track listing

Side A:
Mamacita
The Kicker
Chelsea Bridge
If
Side B:
Nardis
Without A Song
O Amor Em Paz
Mo’ Joe


Henderson must be about the most perfect saxophonist in modern jazz. Exceptional chops, a powerful tone and supurb execution. He’s a tenor sax innovator that has explored the outermost regions of the instrument as well as a great storyteller who keeps constant focus on one of mainstream jazz’ most important axioma, meaningful simplicity. A flexible tenorist that moved just as easily ‘in’ and ‘out’. Henderson might not instill cathartic listening experiences like John Coltrane. Nevertheless, a sensitive and fiery personality rings through Henderson’s strong, probing, eccentric lines, lines that suck one into a thrilling tale, including the added bonus of refreshing wit. One cannot possibly subdue feelings of awe for Henderson’s crafty, passionate game. Keeping blues phrasing to a minimum, Henderson’s lines instead slyly suggest the blues.

Henderson was in the thick of mid-sixties hard bop as well as vanguard jazz, recording acclaimed albums as Mode For Joe, In & Out and Inner Urge. Henderson recorded with Kenny Dorham, Grant Green and Horace Silver and appeared on avant-leaning Blue Note albums, among them Andrew Hill’s Point Of Departure, Pete LaRoca’s Basra and Larry Young’s Unity. One wonders why Henderson, during such a prolific period, traded Blue Note for Milestone. Perhaps Henderson regretted the fact that label boss Alfred Lion retired in 1967. (Lion moved to Mexico, his partner Francis Wolff took over production duties, assisted by pianist Duke Pearson, until his death in 1971) In the guise of Orrin Keepnews, Henderson certainly met a like-minded, equally perceptive label boss.

The septet of The Kicker, including young lions Mike Lawrence and Kenny Barron, cuts loose on three classic Henderson compositions. The Latin tune Mamacita swings hard and Henderson embellishes it with confident legato and dead-pan asides. Henderson initially recorded Mamacita with Kenny Dorham, on the trumpeter’s swan song as a leader in 1964, Trompeta Toccata (read review here). The Kicker and Mo’ Joe, both of which were recorded by Horace Silver while Henderson was part of the hard bop pioneer’s quintet in 1964, are explosive, stunning versions of Henderson’s intricate hard bop anthems.

The apparent ease with which Henderson personalizes standards that were carved in stone for posterity by legendary forebearers, is impressive. Billy Strayhorn’s Chelsea Bridge, which showcased Duke Ellington’s prime tenorist Ben Webster in the forties, gets a vital treatment, tender, endearing yet driving. Saxophonist Benny Green typified Chelsea Bridge as the most ethereal composition in jazz history (in his liner notes for Tommy Flanagan’s 1975’s album Tokyo Recital.) Henderson’s breathy excursion certainly does justice to that eternal charm. Henderson fastens the pace of Without A Song, which was performed beautifully, for instance, by Sonny Rollins on the tenorist’s eponymous The Bridge in 1961. Louis Hayes’ and Ron Carter’s free-flowing accompaniment is a big part of the take’s artistic succes. Speaking about Hayes, Louis Hayes’ swift, furious drumming lifts the whole proceedings to an entirely different level. He’s outrageous!

Henderson also wrote the idiosyncratic blues If, taking it at a fast pace, starting with staccato notes, then exploring the low and high register, sprinkling his ‘out’ phrases with a myriad of slurs, while remaining continuous flow and swing. Riveting stuff.

The Miles Davis Quintet Workin’ (Prestige 1956/59)

The first two cuts on Workin’ immediately show the impact of Miles Davis (and his First Great Quintet) on the evolution of jazz in the mid-fifties. Davis put the showtune It Never Entered My Mind in a moody package by way of his subdued, husky trumpet. The instant classic Four swings effortlessly but insistently. With a focus on expression, Davis distinctly shaped the kind of jazz labeled as mainstream or hard bop.

Miles Davis Quintet - Workin'

Personnel

Miles Davis (trumpet), John Coltrane (tenor saxophone), Red Garland (piano), Paul Chambers (bass), Philly Joe Jones (drums)

Recorded

on May 11 and October 26, 1956 at Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, New Jersey

Released

as PR 7166 in 1959

Track listing

Side A:
It Never Entered My Mind
Four
In Your Own Sweet Way
The Theme (take 1)
Side B:
Trane’s Blues
Ahmad’s Blues
Half Nelson
The Theme (take 2)


When I was young, stupid, sloppy drunk and just about to metamorphose into a giant insect, I used to propagate the opinion that Miles Davis sounded like a door who had trouble creaking. I wasn’t quite fond of his (Harmon) mute sound. In hindsight, I’m sure it was also my cheeky, cynical way of questioning the overdone worship of the ‘Miles’ disciples. Guys in front of the stage begging for the styrofoam cup that Miles Davis drank from after finishing his take on Cindy Lauper’s Time After Time. Guys that wouldn’t have minded if Miles Davis’d filled it with some of his urinal artistry.

Regardless of the swagger, that door obviously did make a tentative attempt at showing off its creaking prowess. Arguably, the term ‘ugly beauty’, like the title of the Thelonious Monk tune, appropriately defines the muted Miles Davis sound as opposed to his open horn sound. Sometimes it hurts the ear. But that, perhaps, was the inevitable consequence of the goals that Davis set for himself. His acerbic, thin trumpet voice brings about a distinctive feeling. There’s more than a touch of hurt in the playing of Miles Davis, mingling with a distinct soft spot. Understated drama. Simultaneously, his sound has the utmost seductive quality as if it’s the voice of a loose woman peeping from behind a red velvet curtain… A slightly shabby woman, streetwise like any one con man on the corner. So there’s hurt, tenderness and a touch of seediness. More than anything else, listening to Miles Davis at his husky best is like being involved in a conversation of the utmost intimate level. Davis at his thinnest still annoys me from time to time. I wonder if anyone else has been having a beef with the nasal Miles Davis sound? At any rate, I do pretty well today as far as the muted Miles Davis is concerned. (Someday My Prince Will Come!) Times-a-changin’, people-a-changin’ and opinions and feelings seem to change by the minute nowadays. About the only thing that doesn’t change is the quality of Italian espresso.

Not being taken in immediately by the muted sound of Miles Davis, when Clark Terry, Donald Byrd or Lee Morgan were somehow more accesible, the admiration for the notes and vision consequently took some time coming. There’s something to be said for a slowly developing admiration, ripening year after year, like the timbre of a grand piano. The clarity of his ‘voice’ and the way Miles Davis shaped phrases and usually concentrated on fewer, expressive notes, thereby cleverly making use of his strong, individual points, is enough to make one look back in awed wonder. In the mid fifties, starting off with 1954’s recording of Walkin’, Miles Davis breathed musical life into the motto of ‘less is more’ (which was first posed by modernist architect Mies van der Rohe in the 1930s), opening up jazz in an original, interesting direction for the second time in his career. Davis later claimed that he changed the course of jazz five or six times. Which makes sense but wasn’t entirely accurate.

The first milestone would be the Birth Of The Cool-session of 1949. Thereafter, the modal Kind Of Blue, the albums of his Second Great Quintet in the mid-sixties, the fusion of Bitches Brew, jazz rock of Jack Johnson and eighties crossover album Tutu are influential classics. They’re also cases in point that Miles Davis didn’t shake all this innovative stuff out of his sleeve as the sole master for all those years, but instead also relied on such brilliant vanguard colleagues like Gil Evans, Gerry Mulligan, Teddy Charles, Bill Evans, Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and Marcus Miller. It’s a notion that matches well with the theory that jazz innovations usually don’t come out of the blue, but are the result of a gelling of jazz spirits influencing one another with their simultaneous experiments. Furthermore, often some of these musicians got their ideas from cats they had never even met in (or outside) the studio, like for instance George Russell, or (modernist) classical composers. A valid theory. Superimposing his one-of-a-kind style over the contemporary developments, Miles Davis was crucial to let such profound changes in jazz come to full fruition. He was a catalyst with guts and vision. At the same time, due to his stardom, Davis became the face of that change for the general public.

Long before these kind of elaborate and almost stupefying discussions, in 1956, the one major upset was the signing of Miles Davis to major label Columbia. A big deal not only for Miles Davis but for the Afro-American community in general. Davis, under contract to Prestige, had the agreement that he could record for Columbia and get albums released once his Prestige contract expired. (The first Columbia release would be the Quintet’s 1957 album ‘Round About Midnight) To fulfill his obligations, Davis and Prestige label boss Bob Weinstock agreed to get it over with and record a couple of spontaneous cuts. The sessions of May 11 & October 26, 1956 led to the release of Cookin’, Relaxin’, Workin’ and Steamin’. Great blowing sessions that showcased the exceptional abilities of everyone involved.

Although an easy way out, Bob Weinstock did took care of structuring the hodgepodge of tunes into a logical order of tracks. He included studio chatter, which was symbolic of the loose atmosphere. (the usage of the two short ‘Themes’, a common jazz practice to start and finish live performance sets, also contribute to that atmosphere) It’s impossible to subdue a smile when Miles Davis announces Trane’s Blues with his gruff, raspy voice. Davis and Coltrane have different ways of dealing with the blues. I feel that Coltrane’s confidence in this tune overshadows the tentative steps of Davis. Nevertheless, Davis’ blend of stacked blue notes and deadpan off-center turns is intriguing.

Davis had recorded Four for the first time two years earlier. It was released on the 10-inch Miles Davis Quartet (Prestige, 1954) and the 12-inch Blue Haze. (Prestige, 1956) The solo on that version is the one people have been crazy about ever since, and small wonder! (Listen Here) Miles Davis is also in very good form on the Workin’-version. Coltrane blows tough tenor, eschewing fast flurries of notes in favor of a more relaxed approach, undoubtly under the influence of Davis. Davis re-visits another tune, Half Nelson. It was initially recorded in 1947 under the guidance of Charlie Parker by the Miles Davis All Stars on a 78rpm Savoy single. (and subsequently under Charlie Parker’s name) The group suavely and swinging flies through the infectious uptempo bop tune.

Ahmad’s Blues – a tune by pianist Ahmad Jamal, who was a big influence on Davis at the time – is a showcase for the rhythm trio. Red Garland stretches out ebulliently on the 32-bar blues with his singular long lines and innovative block chord playing. Miles Davis was enamoured of the tune of another pianist, Dave Brubeck, and seized the opportunity to record In Your Own Sweet Way. Davis initially recorded the tune in March 1956. (Collector’s Items, Prestige) Brubeck recorded it in April, a month after Davis, a solo take on Brubeck Plays Brubeck (Columbia 1956) and a live quartet version appeared on Jay & Kay And Dave Brubeck At Newport. (Columbia 1956) Davis recorded the Workin’-version on May 11. He favored a minor mood over Brubeck’s classical approach and delivered an introspective, smoothly flowing take.

Of the sessions that were released as the Workin’/Relaxin’/Steamin’/Cookin’-albums Miles Davis coolly said: ‘We just came in a blew.’ That’s watertight. It wouldn’t be too much to add, however, that Miles Davis came in and blew in fresh, unique fashion.

Johnny “Hammond” Smith The Stinger (Prestige 1965)

Although the quirky cover suggests otherwise, The Stinger is not the soundtrack to a movie about the cousin of Spiderman. On the contrary, it’s a bluesy and varied mid-career session of organist Johnny “Hammond” Smith. One of his best recordings on the Prestige label.

Johnny "Hammond" Smith - The Stinger

Personnel

Johnny “Hammond” Smith (organ), Houston Person (tenor saxophone A1, B1 & B3), Earl Edwards (tenor saxophone A1-3, B2), Floyd Smith (guitar), John Harris (drums)

Recorded

on May 7, 1965 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey

Released

as PR 7408 in 1965

Track listing

Side A:
The Stinger
There Is No Greater Love
Brother John
Side B:
Cleopatra And The African Knight
You Don’t Know What Love Is
Benny’s Diggin’


Smith came up shortly after organist Jimmy Smith’s rise to prominence in 1956 and evolved into a very prolific recording artist for Prestige. A blues-drenched player with an articulate, pianistic style, Johnny “Hammond” Smith’s level was way above the norm. After a stint with Riverside in 1963, Smith switched back to the soul jazz roster of Prestige, stressing a more backbeat-heavy, funky style in the late sixties. (Thereafter, Smith recorded extensively for CTI imprint Kudu) The Stinger marked Smith’s return to Bob Weinstock’s Prestige label.

It bears the carefree atmopshere of the after hours joint. At the same time, Smith demonstrates an exceptional ability to master diverse, intricate repertoire. Benny’s Diggin’, for instance, is an uptempo hard bop mover that would’ve sit well on an early sixties Blue Note album. Cleopatra And The Black Knight combinates a lilting bossa rhythm with an eastern-flavored theme. Smith’s solo intensifies the already considerable swing.

Smith’s uncluttered storytelling comes through equally well in ballads as in funky tunes. The Stinger, driven by a shufflin’, biting drum beat and an archetypical blues guitar line, is a fiery, down-home cooker. Brother Ray, a “Hammond” Smith tribute to Ray Charles, blends a suave horn arrangement with hard swing. It’s perfect foil for tenor saxophonist Houston Person’s muscular style. It also is ample proof that Johnny “Hammond” Smith simply was one of the finest organists around.

About the spotify link below: The Stinger is the second part of this Johnny “Hammond” Smith twofer.