The New Johnny Smith Quartet

Montage

The New Johnny Smith Quartet
Roost Records
ROOST LP 2216
1957

From the back cover: There was a time – and not so very long ago at that – when the guitar was thought of as little more than just another member of the rhythm section. Occasionally it was expected to speak for itself, but for the most part it was assumed that it would say pleasantly in the background. Exception to the rule was made, of course, for such a guitarist as Charlie Christian or Albert Casey. The rule was clear enough, however: the guitarist was a character actor, whose supporting role was to keep the beat going with a hum, sweet hum.

How things, and strings have changed! The position of the guitarist in jazz is almost precisely the opposite of what it used to be. Far from being a background noise – an amplifier with a head and a heart – the guitar has moved bodily out of the rhythm section. It has asserted its human rights. Now it occupies the soloist's chair almost all the time. And one of the reasons it does so is the work of the musician whose several excellences concern us here and how, John Henry Smith, Jr., better known as Johnny.

Johnny has consistently made commendable the sound of the guitar, solo or in combination with just a handful of other instruments. From the memorable Moonlight In Vermont of 1952 through his distinguished small band collections of recent years, he has been demonstrating with abiding elegance the great variety of which the guitar is capable, the variety of beats, the variety of genres, the variety of textures. Up tempo, middle, and down, very slow, almost funereal, he has plucked away at his instrument. He has outlined with moving simplicity the attractive tunes of such a composer of taste and skill as Jimmy Van Heusen. He has contrived fetching countermelodies to go with the blues and swinging pieces with longer lines. And throughout, no matter what the tune or tempo or mood, he has played with technical precision and splendor of tone, one of the few men who can produce on the electronic version of the guitar some of the sumptuousness of sound we normally associate with such a master of the unamplified instrument as that Andres Segovia whom Johnny so much admires.

In this latest of Mr. Smith's adventures, he goes to vibes and a suitable assortment of figures and beats to take advantage of the association. The mallets are in the hands of Johnny Rae, that youngster who mad his auspicious debut with the George Shearing Quintet in early 1955 and has been showing well ever since, showing well as a swinging vibist capable of a line of his own, but most of all and best of all as a man with a beat. The variety is drawn from a samba with hill-billy overtones, an early American folk tune, a couple of ballads at contrasting tempos, a handful of swinging pieces, and two excursions into the realm of bop (at least for subject matter).

Surely there are few musicians around today – surely there have never been very many – who could manage the delicate balance of tastes which moves the first side of this record from the artfully constructed ballad mood, the tender chording of It Never Entered My Mind, through the Samba that gets to Brazil only after an unmistakable Arkansas aside, the lovely solo formulations (altogether without accompaniment) of the stately folk-song Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair, the Christian-like single-stringing of the uppish Pawn Ticket, to the similarly zestful 'S Wonderful, even upper.

Overleaf, Johnny helps Johnny happily to hit and settle into a groove, middle-tempo and motto ingratiating in the opening You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To, and the ensuing Blue Light, the adjective of which denotes the form and the mood.

A shimmering vibration of vibraphone and guitar puts out the Light and leads into the appropriately named Montage, a serious set of reflections on handsome melodic material of classical proportions, the kind of thing some of John's old friends from his symphony days might very well blow up into a tone poem or a large-scale set of theme and variations, instead of which the two Johns just blow.

Conclusion to the festivities is wrought by that blues of foppish association, Milt Jackson's always infectious groove, Bags Groove, and the solemn cadences of Monk's Round About Midnight, intoned with a kind of swinging solemnity by the guitarist, the vibist and their rhythm-playing collaborators, bassist George Roumanis (who steps out in several short solos of distinction in the faster jazz) and drummer John Lee (capable not only of a solo break or two but also of a good, firm, steady beat throughout). – Barry Ulanov

From Billboard - April 27, 1957: There is a deftness, almost a slickness, in this offering by guitarist Smith and his new group. Deviating more than usual from a basically ballad format, Johnny's program in this set runs from his meet-the-ballad to folk material to outright jazz blowing. The heavy emphasis is with the blowing. The variety of the program plus the close-knit rapport among the musicians and another fine packaging job by Roost should help sell this one. Jocks can select an extremely well-paced segment from the material available here.

It Never Entered My Mind
Samba
Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair
Pawn Ticket
S' Wonderful
You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To
Blue Lights
Montage
Bag's Groove
Roun D About Midnight