Monday, November 13, 2006

Donald Byrd - Byrd In Hand (1959)

As the five-star Down Beat review that this album garnered at the time of its release indicates, Ira Girler was not alone in feeling that Byrd In Hand represented a new plateau for its trumpet-playing leader. The session's inspired music represents the conjunction of several critic associations that brought Byrd into his most productive and influential period as a recording artist.
The most sustained and prolific of these relationships was the one Byrd shared with his old friend from Detroit, Pepper Adams. They had started working in New York and recording together a year earlier, and would continue to co-lead bands through late 1961. While Chet Baker and Gerry Mulligan had already displayed how well trumpet and baritone sax could blend in a small group, Byrd and Adams were clearly something else. The saxophonist, an acerbic dervish with a brawny tone who mixed streams of bebop and caustic quotes, was the perfect complement to Byrd's more thoughtful and tender inventions. This album, their third together and second on Blue Note (after Off to the Races), was the first to fully display the range of moods they were capable of producing. An excellent example is Byrd's haunting "Here Am I", with an atmospheric blend of vamp and melody so strong it was reprised almost verbatim two years later in Duke Pearson's composition "Say You're Mine", which was heard on another of Byrd's best Blute Note sessions, The Cat Walk.
A second important connection represented Byrd In Hand involves Thelonious Monk, a musician who is not even present. Four months before this session, Monk presented his first orchestral concert at New York's Town Hall by augmenting his working quartet (which included Charlie Rouse, Sam Jones and Art Taylor) with six additional musicians including Byrd and Adams. The Riverside album that the concert produced features strong playing from the trumpeter (a product perhaps in part of Monk's threat to replace Byrd with Lee Morgan when the former was late for a rehearsal), and Byrd was clearly satisfied enough with the experience to bring Monk's sidemen into his next project. Rouse, with his immediately identifiable sound and phraseology, is a delight here, and further complements the leader's warmth with his flinty inventions. The day after this session, Rouse, Jones and Taylor began work with their regular boss and Thad Jones on 5 By Monk By 5 of which the British critic Jack Cooke astutely observed that "The times were beginning to catch up with Monk... for a generation well versed in the search for fresh harmonic relationships through their experience of hard bop, and stimulated by that style's rhythmic devices, found themselves with a key to his music". Here we have more proof that Monk's aesthetic was spreading, even in the absence of his compositions.
For this reason, pianist Walter Davis Jr. was an ideal choice for the piano chair, given his friendship with Monk and Bud Powell. Davis was also in the midst of a period during which he collaborated frequently with Byrd. The two, plus Doug Watkins and Art Taylor, had traveled to and recorded in Europe during 1958. Upon their return, Davis began turning up on Blue Note sessions with Byrd, including Jackie McLean's New Soil (cut a month before this date) and his own Davis Cup (recorded two months later, with Jones and Taylor also present). While these albums gave the pianist far more solo space than he had enjoyed on his early recordings with Max Roach and Dizzy Gillespie, they were even more important in announcing Davis's talents as a composer. His writing here is notable in terms of both lyricism and structural originality. "Bronze Dance" shifts moods and meters seamlessly over a unique 28-bar chorus that allows Rouse to display his strong sense of contrast to particularly good effect, while the 44-bar form of "Clarion Calls" is handled by Adams and Byrd without strain. When Rouse gets confused during his "Clarion Calls" solo and stays on for four extra bars, Davis simply omits four bars of his own chorus and sustains a see-saw figure until he is sure that the structure is secure.
One additional point of comparison this album calls to mind involves Clifford Brown, whose influence on Byrd was receding here as Byrd establishes a deeper sense of his own personality. In this regard, the brisk yet relaxed trumpet solo on "The Injuns" should be heard next to Brown's more bravura 1953 reading of the tune on which it is based, "Cherokee", now available on Clifford Brown Memorial Album in the RVG series, from a sextet date that also finds Rouse in the tenor chair.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Melvin Sparks - This Is It (2005)

Melvin Sparks does not care much what you call his funkified approach to playing guitar: 21st century acid-jazz, jam-band nirvana, soul-city hard-groovin', whatever.
A legend to a old school soul-jazz lovers and a funk-father to young hipsters, Sparks has sketched a bluesy line that runs from Jack McDuff to Galactic, and he's still doing his thing his way. This Is It, his third recording on Savant label, is the proof.
"What I did on the last two records and not on this one is what I've done over the years ever since my days with the Upsetters" says the Houston native. "It just so happens that the music has been rediscovered by the young people. They started from the stuff that I do. Many of them have moved on and discovered themselves and left me with my music for me to play."
And play it he does. Sparks has convened a group of old and new friends including organist Jerry Z, drummer Justin Tomsovic, and saxophonist Cochemea Gastellum from Robert Walters' 20th Congress band and lets loose on a mix of original and covers that spans the stylistic horizon.
At 59, the guitarist with the grease-meets-sleek sound continues to carve out a niche for himself after complementing many of the giants of jazz, blues, rock, and funk for decades. Whoelse has performed or recorded with Little Richard, Lonnie Smith, Charles Earland, DJ Logic, Idris Muhammad, Richard Sam Cooke, Soulive and Grover Washington Jr.?
Sparks in unnecessarily modest when he talks about he hopes his listeners will get out of This Is It.
"They might be jogging or riding home, on the bus or subway with headphones and if they are in the mood for a little funky jazz, they can put this album on, and say Yeah." Yeah, indeed.
Sparks lays down a weather map's world of temperatures on this album, from deep heat to cool breezes, while never straying far from the funk that's his calling card. A few of the tunes have a bright, almost contemporary jazz feel, including the title cut, "Give Your Life to G-d" and "Watch Yo Step". He wrote several nearly a decade ago in one intense day-long stretch while he was fasting for the religion he practices, Islam.
"I started early in the day, by the time the sun went down, and when it was time to eat, I had completed them." he recalls. "It was very special and productive."
And there are the covers, including a rendition of the Temptations "My Girl" like you've never heard before, replete with a driving organ opener, quicksilver guitar improvisations and a gruff voiced and entertaining Sparks briefly closing things out with some vocalizing of his own.
"I'm no singer, I know that" the guitarist admits. "But I'm trying to make it fun. That's one thing I learned when I was in the Upsetters backing Sam Cooke and Jackie Wilson, who were real singers. They knew how to make the music fun."
Sparks cover of "Hot Barbeque" is nothing but fast, funky horn-fueled fun. And his own "Bounce" with its deep R&B simmering grooves, is a lesson in history. "When I wrote that I had early Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers in mind" Sparks says. "The harmony is the same as Moanin', but with a boogaloo beat."
A boogaloo beat also propels his "Bambu" which he originally recorded back in the 1970s with organist Rueben Wilson. Sparks' ringing guitar excursions on "The Light Is On" remind listeners that his ideas are as facile and original as they come. And "Heavy Fallin Out" shifts the mood again, this time with a cooler shade of blue on the mid-70s Stylistics tune.
On more than 100 albums he has appeared on, and the scores of hip hop tracks that have sampled his sound, Sparks' guitar contributions have never failed to pump the rhythms and juice the soul of every song. At the helm of his own bands and in control of the Melvin Sparks legacy, he has a straightforward vision."
"I just hope I can progress on for the rest of my life and whatever changes I make, will be natural" he says. "I won't be trying to adjust because the music has gone this way, that way or the other way. I want to grow into what's next for me. And I just love to see people have a good time. They don't have to dance if they don't want to as long as they leave happy and as long as it helps them get through whateever it is they're trying to get through."
And that's what Melvin accomplishes so well.

Scott Hamilton - Jazz Signatures (2001)

Composers write songs, musicians play them. Truth or truism? It took the pop world a few generations to acknowledge the singer/songwriter, but in jazz, the player/writer was always a recognized force. Here, Scott Hamilton -a Concord artist for more than twenty years- places his stamp on several tunes of some of jazz's best players.
With typical candor, Scott explains: "I usually fight the idea of concept albums, because they limit the material, and may end up sounding forced and uncomfortable. But this date was just a happy coincidence. I'd been playing all these tunes with this quartet last year. Most are numbers that John Bunch and I worked up on our annual Christmas gig at London's Pizza Express. When it came time to record something new, I really wanted to use John, Dave and Steve; we toured the continent to very good public reaction."
A little digging into personal history shows that Scott's coming up with this present repertoire has been a lifelong research project. The Hamiltons lived on the East Side where dad Robert, a painter, taught at nearby Rhode Island School of Design. Their house overflowed with art on the walls and music in the air. Scott would commandeer the upright piano in the hall, and proudly play his latest pieces for all who'd listen.
"When I was eight" recalls Scott, "I started clarinet lessons with Frank Marinacchio of the Rhode Island Philharmonic. He was a wonderful, legit clarinetist and I got to hear him play a little jazz on a gig. I studied a few years, but never tried to play jazz. But I was already listening to Johnny Hodges and Charlie Parker."
Scott was soon wailing on tenor saxophone with guys like guitarist Fred Bates, bassist Phil Flanigan, and drummer Chuck Riggs. Providence in the 1970s no longer had the Celebrity Club, a rough-and-tumble bar where you could see Bill Doggett, Gerry Mulligan, Count Basie, Dinah Washington. But it did have Alarie's, a semi-upscale white restaurant for pianists like Mike Renzi; Bovi's Town Tavern for Duke Bellarie, and Fred Grady was still a beacon of bop and swing on late-night radio. Still, Scott and friends idolized the tenor sax led small bands of the swing era, and stood as stalwart throwbacks to an earlier age.
"I listened to tenor sax players for years before I began playing seriously" recalls Scott. "Ben, Hawk, Lester, Bud Freeman. When I took up tenor sax at 16, I was particularly interested in Gene Ammons, Illinois Jacquet, Arnett Cobb, Lockjaw Davis, Red Prysock, Jimmy Forrest, Paul Gonsalves, and Fred Phillips. They're still the guys I listen to. Nothing compared to seeing a great player live. The times I saw Illinois play in the early 70s in Boston, are still my most truly thrilling musical experiences. Later in New York, I heard Zoot Sims and Stan Getz, who made great impressions on my playing."
Scott owned the reverence and keen ear for the sounds of Ben and Hawk, and the melodies of Illinois and Byas that he exhibits here, albeit with more savvy and suavity.
Strayhorn's masterpiece "Raincheck" starts like a riff tune, but then takes a sly slide into 16+16 song form with a hooting tag. Scott refers to Ben Webster in both content and tune, and John Bunch and Dave Green have their says.
Scott treats the Brubeck favorite "In Your Own Sweet Way", written early (1952) in his long, mellowing career, and ekes Zoot-like heat from his choruses. John's choruses span Teddy Wilson pizzazz and Hank Jones charm. The tag is played amoroso, with smears.
Waller's waltz is a waltz, a lively one, with Steve Brown whacking rimshots and tom-tom accents, as well as a capable solo. "I've recorded Jitterburg Waltz with Bucky Pizzarelli" says Scott, "but John's arrangement is so strong, we felt it was like an entirely different tune."
"If You Could See Me Now" excels a sweet ballad moan. "I've always loved Sarah Vaughan's recording" says Scott, "and I've been trying to learn it for years."
"Move" moves in forward bop fashion speedily to its conclusion, propelled by Steve Brown's snappy stick-work. Long in Scott's repertoire but premiered here on an album, it's by drummer Denzil Best, bet heard for fine brushwork in George Shering's early quintets.
Scott affords "When Lights Are Low" it's composer's wonted jaunty manner and elegant melodicism, so far as to inserting, on his last eight bars, a typically Cartesque flippant fillip. John takes a tasty bite, and Scott and Steve engage in lusty exchanges before all exit politely.
"Byas A Drink" is a variation on "Stomping at the Savoy" made in the 1940s under various titles; the riff was used years later by Clifford Brown and Max Roach.
"You Left Me Alone" is one of the first ballads I ever learned to play" recalls Scott. "Illinois wrote it in the 40s and recorded it with an all-star band in an arrangement by Tadd Dameron, who may have had a hand in this arrangement. I never had the nerve to record it before, as Illinois played it so definitively. I feel like I've figured out a way now to put a little of myself into it without losing it too much of Jacquet's original version. The number is meant as a tribute to the tenor player who I've always admired at most."
Hank Jones wrote "Angel Face" for a 1947 Coleman Hawkins date; Lucky Thompson and Milt Jackson recorded it in the 1950s, as one of Hank's most beautiful songs.
"The ringer here is John's Bunch" claims Scott. "John wrote this years ago, but it came out sounding so natural, we had to include it."
Actually, John's inclusion is a perfect capper, a bluesy bit of personal history from a composer who's been first and foremost a solid piano player. He's worked the big bands of Woody Herman, Benny Goodman, Maynard Ferguson, Buddy Rich, played hard for Zoot Sims and Al Cohn, and led his own tight bunches. John signes his closing stomper with a boogie flourish.
And thus have the moving fingers of veterans Scott and John, and youngsters Dave and Steve, played for us yet and another chapter in the book of jazz.