W♥M

JAZZ NOTE #12 – FRAME THE MOMENT

Nancy Wilson: Moon River

Growing up in Ohio, Nancy Wilson knew early she wanted to be a singer. After winning talent shows, working clubs, touring with a big band and studying briefly to become a teacher, she decided to make a move to New York City in 1959.

Cannonball Adderly was so impressed with the up-and-coming singer he helped launch Wilson’s career by sharing his manager, John Levy, and his label, Capitol Records.  That’s all the help she would need.  Her debut was so well received she released five albums by her within the first two and a half years.  And for the next forty Wilson would go on to record 70 albums with the last, “Turn to Blue,” winning a Grammy in 2006 for best jazz vocal.

Although Wilson has been described as a blues, jazz and/or cabaret singer, she has always preferred the title, song stylist.  She is definitely one of those artists that can take a standard and make it her own.  With the bright clarity of Ella Fitzgerald, the phrasing of Billie Holiday, the command of Frank Sinatra and the sensibility of her childhood idol, Nat King Cole, Wilson crafts a warm, sophisticated sound or as Time Magazine wrote in 1964, “She is all at once, both cool and sweet, both singer and storyteller.”

Like all the greats, Wilson can bring you in and make you feel at ease.  Take “Moon River.”  Henry Mancini and Johnny Mercer’s original is wistful and longing, but Wilson’s interpretation is a breezy.  She doesn’t so much sing as soar, gliding over the subtle percussive beat as to never land on a single note.  No wonder Joe Williams once called her the Thrush from Columbus.

Dave

 

JAZZ NOTE # 11 – FIND A GROOVE

Peterson & Jackson: Work Song

“If you make a mistake, don’t stop.  Make it part of what you are playing.” I think of this quote by Oscar Peterson every time I hear one of his songs.  He doesn’t so much play the piano as propel it.  In the middle of a solo, every key is under his domain as he deftly dashes the ebony and ivory with contradictory urgency and ease.  Even if Peterson made a mistake, you may never hear it.

Born in Montreal, Canada, Peterson took to the piano early, taking classical training in grade and high school, sometimes practicing 12 hours a day.  Invited to the United States by the legendary Norman Granz, Peterson signed on with Verve Records and formed a trio modeled much like the one made famous by Nat King Cole.  But this was no Route 66.  Peterson intended on letting his piano do the singing.  And with Ray Brown on bass and Ed Thigpen on drums, he started to develop a style that was light, fast, intricate and wholly infused with swing.

Recorded in 1961 “Very Tall” features this trio plus one more, Milt Jackson from The Modern Jazz Quartet.  On the surface the addition didn’t look to be a good fit.  Jackson was more coached in bebop and cool jazz where Peterson was more traditional.  One hot, one cool, how would this arranged marriage by Verve producers work?  How about fantastic!    Although  muscular and dynamic, Peterson knew how to pull back and welcome Jackson’s warm vibraphone solos. 

My favorite track is “Work Song.”  Jackson takes the lead, but Peterson soon leaps in with an effortless response, sounding like he is caught in a stream of eddies, rippling stones, multiple crosscurrents, all of it fluid.  No way is he going to stop.

Dave

JAZZ NOTE # 10 – BABY IT’S FREAKIN COLD OUTSIDE

Baby, It's Cold Outside

The other day I took out the garbage.  And as I headed inside, I noticed a mound of snow, which had been piling since early December, was now over my head.  I took this as a bad sign.  If Punxsutawney Phil lived in Minnesota, he would certainly wait until July before moving to Mexico.  The weatherperson verified this sentiment the other night.  She said that spring will be delayed because the endless acres of fallen snow will act as a giant fridge when warmer winds appear.  But that’s many days away.  Today its four degrees above zero.  Like Vu, I find January to be about survival. 

“Baby, it’s Cold Outside,” a song that toggles between love and frostbite, is an appropriate song for this time of year.  I knew it was a popular ballad, but I was surprised how many people have recorded it.  At I-Tunes I found artists as varied as Tony Bennett, Dean Martin, Lady Antebellum and Jessica Simpson.  For being a song about two lovers there is some strange pairings.  After all, can you mentally picture Norah Jones making out with Willie Nelson?  How about Zooey Deschanel and Leon Redbone?  Then there is the talk show host, Regis Philbin and The Dukes of Hazzard actor, Tom Wopat.  (No, they didn’t sing the duet together. They just appeared in the search.)

Then there is Louis Armstrong and Vilma Middleton with a live rendition on “Satchmo at Pasadena.”  Teamed with his All Stars like Jack Teagarden, Barney Bigard and Earl Hines, Armstrong seems to be more in the mood to entertain than to demonstrate his technical virtuosity.  And although the concert took place on January 30^th, 1951, I don’t think there is anything remarkably brutal when it comes to winter weather in southern California.  No matter.  Armstrong’s jovial tit-a-tat with Middleton and his band mates is a fun time.  Take a listen.  It's pretty funny.  It sure beats being stuck in a snowdrift. 

Dave  

JAZZ NOTE # 6 KICK BACK & RELAX

 

KITTY

Ben Webster & Harry "Sweets" Edison

“Let those other fellows play sixty-thousand notes.

You just play with three with tone.

That makes the difference.”

 
Russell “Pops” Smith

with advice to a young Benny Webster

 

What I like about jazz is how multi-dimensional it can be.  From Dixieland, Big Band to a small trio playing in a hotel lounge, jazz can stir a swell of emotions from wooing a lover to putting a spring in your step.  It can even make you want to kick back after a long day and relax.

When I listen to this Columbia Jazz Masterpiece, “Ben & Sweets” it sounds like two guys taking the time to reflect and for good reason.  By the time Ben Webster and Harry “Sweets” Edison met up in New York in 1962 they had a lot to talk about.  Webster had already made his mark on lead saxophone in the Duke Ellington Orchestra and Edison already spent twelve years as the trumpet soloist with Count Basie.  In the 30’s and 40’s there were no bigger big bands or preeminent soloist.

But the late 40’s and 50’s were not kind to Big Band Swing.  What’s surprising, though, is how constant these two remained when the paradigm shifted from Be-Bop to Hard-Bop to West Coast Cool.  The decades did not matter.  To Webster and Edison, their music was timeless and they kept busy playing by arranging and leading or backing vocalists. By the time they laid down these tracks, both men were established enough to no longer feel a need to impress.  Instead, all they wanted to do was play beautiful music. 

Unlike most albums where I like to cherry pick, I love every track. Each man gets a chance at his own extended solo with a Gershwin tune. (Webster with “How Long is this Going on?” and Edison with “Embraceable You.”)  And when I listen to my favorite, “Kitty”, I can’t help picture Webster and Edison on a front porch in the cool of the evening, laughing, joshing and most of all reminiscing.  “Do you remember the time…?”

Dave

 

 

JAZZ NOTE # 4 – STICK AROUND

01 Sonny, Please

Sonny Rollins

 

Contrary to a popular rock ‘n roll belief, some musicians are better off not burning out quickly or fading away.  Like a fine whiskey or an endearing ballad, jazz musician only get better with time.  Sure, their technical skills may diminish a little, but there is something more worldly and expressive that manifests in musicians with more than a few decades notched into their instruments.  At least that’s what I saw in concert with:

 

-               Jon Lee Hooker with a voice sounding like the beginning of time, seated and playing his guitar through an ongoing standing ovation.

 

-           Ruben Gonzalez from the Buena Vista Social Club, accepting the warm, extended hands as an assistant gently leaned his frail body into the front row during the second encore.

 

-               Jimmy Heath setting down his saxophone to rest against the piano; every once in a while leaning into the microphone to scat out “Johnnie Walker… Black Label.”  (I’m not sure what he meant, but he sure sounded damn cool.)

 

Then there’s Sonny Rollins, the last of the lions, the man who played with everybody and established himself as the best saxophone player among them, the last link to the Golden Era still stretching a career into the present.   

 

I didn’t know what to expect when I sat down for one of his concerts a couple years back.  He already canceled the show once due to illness.  But no matter.  Even though it was Halloween, the city of Minneapolis named it Sonny Rollins Day.  And when he came on stage to accept the certificate, there was a hitch to his step. He didn’t look much like a lion.  He even looked a little out of place with the rest of the band whose combined ages probably didn’t add up to his 75.  So when Sonny set down the plaque and picked up his horn, I was somewhat prepared for a comfortable evening with well-known classics.  What I got right at the beginning was the title song to his new album, “Sonny Please,” indicating to me, indicating to the audience, indicating to sands of time that even though his career was nearing the dying light, he had no intention of going quietly.

 

“Johnnie Walker… Black Label.” 

 

JAZZ NOTE # 3 – PAINT A PICTURE

 

                                   " For me the essence of a big band is in the celebration

                                of the collective by a group of highly individual personalities."

                                                                                 Dave Holland

  

Dave Holland Big Band - First Snow

Dave Holland Big Band

One of the advantages working with 12-16 musicians is the conductor’s ability to expand his palette.  Without uttering one word a big band can create a vivid scene rich in color and bustling with motion.  For example take Duke Ellington’s “Caravan” and Dizzy Gillespie’s “A Night in Tunisia.”  Or since we are moving into the season, listen to Dave Holland’s “First Snow” from his 2002 EMC release “What Goes Around.”

 

If you live in the Northern part of the world like Vu and I do here in Minnesota, then you know how perfectly the song captures how quiet it can get, how beautiful it is and how sad it seems as the soloist evoke their own nuanced emotions:

-   Alex Sipiagin on flugelhorn with a wisp of regret seeing the falling leaves now replaced.

-       Andrew Hayward on trombone with a resigned shrug, already layering.

-       Mark Gross on alto sax with no intention of going quietly, even crying

mid-solo like a man with no gloves trying to get into a frozen car.

By chance I heard this song in my car, coming home after a long hard day.  And as I entered the final bend driving around Lake of the Isles, there they were: flakes, sparse and anemic, like listless albino fireflies floating in the thin air.

If you are a lover of music, there are times in your life when a song slips past the words and melody and becomes something more.  Suddenly, there is no longer outside clamor or inside thought.  The past no longer matters and the future can wait because at the moment there’s this song and it’s taking over as the first snow of the season dances past your dusty windshield.

- Dave

Jazz Note #2 - Play a Showtune

JAZZ NOTE # 2 – PLAY A SHOWTUNE
written by Dave

Ray Charles - Oh, What a Beautiful Morning Charles, Ray And The Count Basie Orchestra/Count Basie Orchestra Jazz Note #1 - Make it Catchy http://weheartmus... As post-war Bebop began to wane into the cold war era, a group of jazz musicians sought to reconnect with their audience. Hard Bop, West Coast Cool, wherever the name, the songs usually stated a quick, catchy theme, letting the players take it from there. A few classics from this time are Lee Mor...

The best way an artist can grab the attention of an ever-elusive audience is to take something tried and true and turn it on its head.  I’m talking about reinterpretation.  When it comes to jazz, there is no better way to ease a new listener into a new sound than to play a familiar tune, especially when song comes from the Rogers and Hammerstein’s musical, “Oklahoma” and Ray Charles is the one singing “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” from the 2006 Concord release, “Ray Sings Basie Swings.”

What I like most about this cover is that it doesn’t remotely sound like morning.  I don’t think the word even exists in the jazz lexicon.  Most jazz musicians don’t even get out of bed before noon.  So when Charles steps into Count Basie’s thick, crisp harmony sounding like a stiff belt of whiskey, he doesn’t lope like a man waking up.  Instead, you hear that growl in his voice and you can see the grin growing for he is a man who is happy that the sun is finally going down.

The time of day isn’t the only thing mixed-up in this song.  Take a full listen and see if you can determine if Charles is singing with a live band.  At the time he was. But when these master tapes were found after his death, the only parts that were salvageable were his vocals.  Count Basie and his orchestra were not properly miked during the concert, but not problem.  Bill Hughes who now steers the venerable, still-playing Count Basie Orchestra was available to lay down the new tracks. 

Some jazz purist may balk at the technology that bridges musicians playing in different decades.  But if that technology allows me to visualize Ray Charles wearing a cowboy hat on top of a horse jazzing up an otherwise “oh hum” song, then I, too, have a wide grin just to hear one more time Ray Charles growl.

Jazz Note #1 - Make it Catchy

JAZZ NOTE # 1 – MAKE IT CATCHY

written by Dave

Miles Davis - Milestones

Miles Davis

As post-war Bebop began to wane into the cold war era, a group of jazz musicians sought to reconnect with their audience. Hard Bop, West Coast Cool, wherever the name, the songs usually stated a quick, catchy theme, letting the players take it from there. A few classics from this time are Lee Morgan’s “Sidewinder”, Horace Silver’s “Song for My Father” and this gem from Miles Davis, “Milestone” from the same-name 1958 Columbia record.

What I like most about this piece is how the hierarchy of the jazz combo is turned around. Usually, it’s the headliner that takes the lead and sets the tone. You would think in a song with “Miles” in the name that Davis would step up to the mic with his muted horn. Instead it’s his sideman on tenor sax, John Coltrane, grabbing the first solo like a quarter-horse out of the gate, sounding like he wants to completely break from the pack, ripping up and down the scales with a buoyant, joyous ease.

“Too many notes,” Davis would constantly chide his young band mate. Coltrane is definitely an interesting contrast to Davis’ subtle, understated tone. Just listen to the first two solos: one playing the edge, almost willingly losing control; the other with no need to impress, a consummate professional taking the smoothest of rides. Also, make note of the slightly awkward transition between the two solos. It almost sounds like Davis tapped Coltrane on the shoulder with a “That’s enough.”