Evergreens - Billy Taylor

 

All The Things You Are

Evergreens

The Billy Taylor Trio

Produced by Creed Taylor

Engineering by Rudy Van Gelder

Cover Photography by Alan Fontaine

Cover Design by Bob Crozier

ABC-Paramount ABC-112

Recorded February, 1956

Billy Taylor - Piano

Percy Brice - Drums

Earl May - Bass

From the back cover: Jazz has never been a predictable music. It is not really surprising, then, that there should suddenly be more modern jazz pianists than there were heady sonneteers in Elizabethan England. Their names are legion. Their styles, however, like those of most modern jazz musicians, are not. Scratch them, and one finds, like clams in the mud, the queer, solid shells of Thelonius Monk or Bud Powell. One also finds, in discouraging measure, an iron sophistication that disguises, in varied degree, ugliness, ineptness, barreness, and timidity. Sophistication, these days, is rarely synonymous with emotion. Further, it is difficult at any time to project jazz emotion through the piano. As a result, much modern jazz piano is riblike and cold. It is, in fact, like a greenhouse in the sun: glassy and blinding, but, at the same time, hollow, transparent, and quickly conductive. Some among these mechanized gypsies are, of course, honest and highly creative souls. One is Billy Taylor.

Taylor, perhaps more than any, runs almost directly counter-stream to contemporary jazz pianistry. Where much of it is sullen and chrome-bound, he is gentle and economical. Where it dis plays a sad ignorance of piano tradition (both classical and jazz), Taylor has written deft, comprehensive piano instruction books on dixieland piano, boogie woogie, and ragtime piano. Again, where modern jazz piano is largely a ululation of Powell and Monk, Taylor's style speaks of Tatum, Waller, Hines, Nat Cole, as well as Powell and Monk. Finally, where most modern pianists consider immaterial such fundamentals as the sound of their instrument and how it should be struck, Taylor continues to study with Richard McClanahan, a pupil of Tobias Mathay and the teacher of Dame Myra Hess, who approaches the keyboard as if it were a moth's wing.

Taylor's style is deceptive. Primarily, one is struck by his delicately round sense of touch, which is equalled, perhaps, only by Nat Cole, Bengt Hallberg, and Hank Jones. Immediately apparent, as well, is his adoption, on his improvised passages, of a Tatum-Powell single-note attack. More puzzling is the fact that Taylor has been appreciated both at the Copacabana and Birdland. One reason for this is that, superficially, his style is unshouting and melodically kind to the ear, and as fresh in sound as pebbles being dropped into a fish bowel. Furthermore, his planed, cocktail-seeming attack contains for those willing to listen one of the most inventive improvisational minds in jazz. On a fast tune, for example, Taylor's creative intelligence works so rapidly that he can construct in one breath a new and uninterrupted melodic line that sometimes stretches for half a chorus or more. In itself, this would of course be a useless feat (cf. Clifford Brown, Art Tatum, Buddy Rich) if the ideas were not as cohesive and logical as the clapboards on a frame house. At the same time, his left hand, unlike the dead, dust- covered appendage that lies over so much of the landscape of modern jazz piano, continually frames countering or supportive chords, or, more rarely, a completely separate, non-contrapuntal melodic line. (This is still an experimental device, and can be heard here on All The Things You Are.) On slow tempos, Taylor's sausage-machine approach is considerably modified. The phrases are shorter, and often, because there is more time for intensity highly eloquent. (Taylor occasionally drowns in his own great good taste. For his long, exquisitely modelled lines once in a while take on a kind of garrulous, compulsive quality. Tayior's rhythmic approach is equally subtle. Although it rarely has the tobogganing drive of Tatum or Billy Kyle, it is so controlled that he can slip abruptly but without pause from a long, staccato-like series of notes into a run and back to the staccato, or from the staccato to a phrase that heel-drags at the beat, giving one the pleasant effect of having seen a perfect platoon suddenly skip, change step, skip again, and resume its step. His left hand, as well, is replete with off beats, various accents, and strong underpinning rhythms that provide a striking contrast to the creamy right hand.

Billy Taylor, at thirty-four, is a slight, handsome, well put together man who wears heavy horn-rimmed glasses, neither smokes nor drinks, has a formidable set of teeth, a noticeably well-modulated voice, and a first-rate intelligence. He has, too, an infectious sense of humor, humility and talks as he plays with ease, clarity, and knowledge. "This is something I have never been able to explain to myself," he will say typically. "I like Bartok. You'd never know it from my playing. The reason is, that as much as I like him, I have never been able to assimilate him into what I do. Yet, Bach, Mozart, and Debussy have auto- matically become a part of my jazz thinking. Don Shirly takes a block of Ravel and puts it in the middle of his My Funny Valentine and builds on it, using it as a basic motif. Sounds good, but to me, anyway, it's kind of like cheating. You've got to stay somewhere near the tradition. To do that, of course, you have to know the tradition. Until recently, Randy Weston had never even heard a Jelly Roll Morton record. But the minute you open these new avenues to a musician, it's like a stream flowing in. I saw this happen years ago to Thelonius and Bud Powell. Mary Lou Williams took them in hand. One of the things she made them aware of was touch. On some of Powell's most recent records the sound is so much better. She used to sit down with both of them and say, Now, this is the way it goes.' She's helped more young musicians than anyone."

In addition to being a mellifluous talker, Taylor is a talented and fluent composer with some three hundred tunes to his credit. He has acted on the legitimate stage and on television, lectured on music at schools and colleges, and last summer was one of the most articulate members of the second jazz panel at the Newport Jazz Festival.

Taylor, briefly, was born in Greenville, North Carolina. His father was a dentist and a choir conductor, and an uncle played the organ and sang. After trying a number of instruments, he settled on the piano, playing his first professional job when he was thirteen at a "real dive" called Harry's Bluebird Inn outside of Washington, D. C., where his family moved shortly after his birth. He attended Virginia State College, graduating with a Bachelor of Music. Shortly after this, he moved to New York. On the evening he arrived he was heard uptown by Ben Webster, and two days later was a member of his quartet at the Three Deuces on 52nd Street. Before forming his own trio, he went on to work with a Burke's Peerage of jazz that included Sid Catlett, Gillespie, Don Redman, Oscar Pettiford, Gerry Mulligan, Charlie Parker, and so forth. (In the Forties, there was still a good deal of jamming and sitting-in going on all over New York. Taylor believes that the eventual breakdown of this custom is one reason why there is so little individuality among young jazz mus- icians; jamming, as well as big-band experience, was a trying-out where jazzmen listened to one another, learned, and separated the men from the boys.)

Half of the ten selections here, all of which are standards, are ballads, and half in medium or up tempo. The trio itself is the same with the exception of Percy Brice, who replaced Charley Smith on drums about a year ago as the one originally formed some four years ago. It is a tightly relaxed unit that uses its ensemble passages more for recharging episodes and jumping-off points than for bookends. It is also a mildly intricate group that experiments a good deal with Cuban rhythms and with, for example, 6/8 time against 4/4 (All The Things You Are). The trio, as it appears on this LP, is loose enough to allow several bass solos by Earl May and a few brush passages by Brice, who reveals himself as a sensitive, gritty drummer.

A mature, responsible musician thoroughly grounded in the techniques, history, and aesthetics of his music, Taylor is what many "geniuses" never are – a continually inspired, creative performer who plays his instrument with the understanding and beauty it deserves. – Whitney Balliett, The Saturday Review

Cheek To Cheek
It's Too Late Now
I Only Have Eyes For You
Then I'll Be Tired Of You
All The Things You Are
But Not For Me
You Don't Kown What Love Is
Satin Doll
More Than You'll Know
Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Gone With The Wind - Dave Brubeck

 

Gone With The Wind

Gone With The Wind
The Dave Burbeck Quartet
Columbia Records CL 1347
1959

Dave Burbeck - Piano 

Paul Desmond - Alto Sax
Joe Morello - Drums
Gene Wright - Bass

From the back cover: A good deal has been said in print about the merits of the Dave Brubeck Quartet, what it stands for in relation to jazz, what it has contributed to the facade of jazz, etc., and as you listen to the easy flow of melodic lines and the development of each standard composition in this recording, you will know that this is the Quartet at its best. We feel that the music speaks for itself, and that no words need be said here by way of explanation. Therefore, I would only like to tell you of some special incidents which happened during the recording of this album, and include a few comments from Dave himself concerning some of the pieces.From the very first take, we all knew that this was going to be a swinging session, and it was. I believe it is significant that three- fourths of the compositions contained herein are "first-takers," if I may coin a word. On listening to the first play-back by Dave and the group, the comment would almost invariably be: "That's it! Let's make the next one." This happened throughout the entire session in the studio, until it was time to leave for Dave's evening concert at Orange Grove College in Costa Mesa, California, where we also recorded.

Some of the compositions that were used as a basis for improvisation here were played by the group for the first time at the recording studio, and in several cases the arrangements you hear were not previously planned, but worked out spontaneously while recording. This is why, when you listen to Georgia on My Mind, you will hear a low bass note near the beginning and a rather deceptive ending by Dave. There was great speculation in the studio as to how he would end this piece, and we all waited expectantly until the last note was recorded. It is interesting to know that both Georgia on My Min and Swanee River have been favorites of Dave's for years, but this was the first opportunity he had to record them.

You will notice, too, that there are two versions of Camptown Races: because each had its own special quality, both were used. The first one was the original take at the session, and the second one we thought would be of interest because of more West Indian rhythm played by Joe Morello. This, by the way, just happened, too. No cues, no plan before hand. Everything at that point just seemed to work out spontaneously.

In Dave's words, "Look Down That Lonesome Road is a little drama depicting the life story of man. Loneliness in the beginning, then a fuller, expanded life, then gradually back to the loneliness of old age at the end of the road." The clicks that you hear at the end of this tune are intentional, and are meant to represent footsteps.

Gene Wright volunteered to do a tune that he had long wanted to play – Ol' Man River – and Joe Morello contributed to this album about the South by lengthening a quote from Dave's last album, "Newport 1958," where he quoted Short'nin' Bread on the drum solo of C Jam Blues. He lengthened that quote into a track for this album-added yeast to the original Short'nin' Bread, I guess.

Putting together this album, which evokes memories of the South, was an idea which came to Dave following a concert tour of the South. He decided that he would like to do one album of old and familiar tunes in contrast to the album of originals already released (CL 1251), and with the hope of entertaining everyone North, South, East and West.

Swanee River
The Lonesome Road
Georgia On My Mind
Camptown Races
Camptown Races
Short'nin Bread
Basin Street Blues

Ol' Man River
Gone With The Wind

The New Tristano - Lennie Tristano

 

G Minor Complex

The New Tristano
Lennie Tristano
Recording Engineer: Lennie Tristano
Cover Photo: Lee Friedlander
Cover Design: Loring Entemey
Atlantic Records 1357
1962

Lennie Tristano is heard on this LP in unaccompanied piano solos. No use is made of multi-tracking, over-dubbing or tape-speeding on any selection. Lennie Tristano can also be heard on Atlantic LP 1224: Lennie Tristano

From the back cover: As much as possible, everything in this remarkable set of performances by Lennie Tristano is improvised. Lennie improvises with the time, with the time signature; Lennie improvises on the melodic line, on the chord progressions. Although each of the performances has a definite set of chords implicit in it, there is no fixed sequence in any one of them. Nothing is static. Improvisation is all.

Lennie calls what he does here "stretching out in the forms." Within the jazz forms, simple as they are, he has sought the utmost limits of spontaneity of the improvising imagination. He is never altogether unconscious of the progression. He is never enslaved to any sequence of notes or chords. He is almost completely free but not completely. That is part of the joy in it, he explains: "to see how far you can stretch out in a given frame of reference." The possibilities, he says, are "practically infinite, endless even in the most simple forms. You are constantly creating form on form, a multiplicity of lines, a great complex of forms."

The mathematics of this procedure can be deduced. If someone has "practically infinite" patience, he can sit down and copy out the notes Lennie plays. Or, with somewhat less perseverance, he can sit down with Lennie and discover what sort of exercises go into the preparation of such performances. There are, for example, the exercises for the left hand, one finger at a time, in which the single hand is divided up into lines. He will practice improvising with, say, two fingers assigned the bass line and three the melody, then with three on the bass and two on the melody, and so on and on until the fingers drop off from exhaustion or he has negotiated twelve choruses. For what it may be worth to those who want to try this out for themselves, it should be added that so far Lennie has lost no fingers; his hands are intact and so are his twelve- chorus exercises.

The point of all of this is to assure Lennie and the listener of no dissociation of technique and music. All his playing life, Lennie has been working to develop enough skill to express feeling "without be- ing hung up in the skill itself." It is possible to arrive at such control, such a combination of freedom and restraint, that one is never preoccupied with one's fingers as one plays, that one, in fact, is only barely conscious of what one is doing with one's fingers. At that extremely delicate peak of stability, where instability is just a finger's breadth away, one can give over entirely to feeling. That is exactly what jazz musicians have been doing, however high or low their individual peaks of stability, ever since the beginning of jazz (whenever that was). For jazz is an art of feeling and the jazz musician's greatest joy is to yield to his feeling if he has the equipment with which and to which he can surrender. Such a yielding is what we have here, a triumphant demonstration of the art of feeling.

In this most intimate art, this art of feeling, statements are usually highly personal. One has the choice  of exchanging sentiments with other musicians, with a horn or two or with a rhythm section, or of speaking for oneself alone. Inevitably when one enters a jazz dialogue, there are stiff constraints that stand in the way of an open and honest communication of feeling. Not only is there the formal deference that must be shown other musicians, but also a constant return to a melodic line and a rigid adherence to a fixed chord progression so that the improvising musicians may walk together on common ground. By comparison one can see the many advantages of a performance like this one of Lennie's, alone, without rhythm or any other support. Here all the usual meditative resources of the soliloquy are at his disposal as well as the new ones he has developed for himself, devices which permit him to express as many as five ideas at once and in his improvisations to follow the most elaborate involutions of his feelings.

The elaborations are prodigious. In most of these tracks, he works with multiple time patterns, setting 5/4 or 3/8 or some other time against a steady 4/4. But the 4/4 is not so much a fixed measure of four quarter-notes to a bar as a continuity of beats, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, without any bar-line restrictions. On top of this Lennie constructs a fresh contour out of triplets. He alters the basic structure by adding a fourth note to the triplet, borrowing one note from the second triplet to make four notes of the first one, borrowing two from the third triplet to make four notes of the second one, picking up a whole triplet from the next bar to add to the one left in the third, etc. The result is an astonishing contour made up of 4 on 3 (the altered triplet on the conventional triplet), on top of 5 on 4 (the time in one hand), on top of 4/4 (the basic beat). He does as much again with a triplet to which he had added two notes, creating a contour in fives that, if nothing else, is a breath-taking mathematic. al exercise. But it is much more. "I can never think and play at the same time," Lennie says. "It's emotionally impossible." The thinking is in anticipation of the performance. The exercise precedes a recording such as this one by weeks, by months, by years.

Some idea of the extent to which this collection is a unified display of feeling may be gathered from the fact that everything here except one track (the first on the second side) comes from one tape. The first that you hear is the first that Lennie played, the one he calls Becoming. It is a "sort of waking everything up myself, the studio, the tape recorders; a bringing together of all my forces." And so for four and a half minutes he flexes his fingers and articulates his ideas, in preparation for the monumental statement which follows. The appropriately named C Minor Complex is the most eloquent of jazz solos, a complex gathering of melodic lines and contrasting times and swinging beats out of a C minor progression into nearly six minutes of concentrated feeling that reminds one of nothing so much as the D minor Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue of Bach. After so much music, a pause is called for, a lengthy one, before going on to the tuneful ballad You Don't Know What Love Is and the middle-tempo Deliberation which follow.

The second side starts with a kind of suite entitled Scene And Variations, consisting of three sections, Carol, Tania and Bud, based on more or less the same chord progression, moving from a brilliant brief exam- ination of block chords, through a flurry of single-note patterns, to a driving line which does nothing so much as proclaim in precise accents its own linearity. It is not hard to understand, the response of Lennie's baby daughter Tania to these performances. She listened, and listened, and listened, and then just got up and walked all over the place never having walked before.

The set concludes with two typical Tristano performances. First there is an original ballad, Love Lines, handsomely compendious: Lennie makes his point, develops it a little, and stops; that's all he has to say. Then there is another minor-key gathering of lines and times and beats, G Minor Complex. "When I'm through," Lennie says, "I'll have the well-tempered complex." No better description exists of what Lennie Tristano has already achieved: The well-tempered complex: A marvelous multiplicity of forms swinging together in the service of feeling. – Barry Ulanov

Becoming
C Minor Complex
You Don't Know What Love Is
Deliberation
Scene and Variations
  a) Carol
  b) Tania
  c) Bud
Love Lines
G Minor Complex

Norvo... Naturally! - Red Norvo

 

Love For Sale

Norvo... Naturally!

Red Norvo
Produced by Jemo Recording Enterprises
Under the Supervision of Elliot Machit
Musical Direction: Mickey Miller
Recorded in Hollywood, California
Jemo Recordin Enterprises
Rave Records RLP-101
1956

Red Norvo - Vibes
Bob Drasnin - Flute & Alto

Jim Wyble - Guitar
Buddy Clark - Bass
Bill Douglass - Drums

From the back cover: Now! – for the first time you can hear RED NORVO as RED NORVO should be heard. Never before have the glittering talents of "Remarkable Red" been so tastefully and artfully recorded for his millions of fans to enjoy. The miracle of STEROSONIC SOUND RECORDING presents a new and thrilling experience for the hypersensitive ears of our most discerning audiophiles. It represents, at long last, the complete mastering of all the technical problems involved in producing a super-quality high fidelity recording from STEREOPHONIC TAPE MASTERS.

The magic of STEROSONIC SOUND RECORDING will be immediately apparent to even the most critical listener. The scintillating movement of "I'LL REMEMBER APRIL" will produce for you an amazing "in person" feeling and marvelous things will keep on happening right through to the brilliant finale of "LOVE FOR SALE".

Seldom in the history of intimate jazz groups has a "sound" like this been obtained. Those of us who cut our "musical teeth" on the tremendous power of the Benny Goodman Quartet are going to enjoy the wonderful ensemble work that Red displays in this fine album. In addition to this, the pure, free, unrestrained jazz solos that you will hear are the stuff that gladdens a true jazz fan's heart.

Mozart's Magic Flute will certainly spring to mind when you hear the fantastic work of BOB DRASNIN, Red's flute player. Bob's beautiful jazz solo and his flashing cadenza on "Stella" are enough to convince any real jazz fan that here is a truly Magic Flute. Lest we forget, the inspired work of JIM WYBLE on guitar, BUDDY CLARK on bass and BILL DOUGLASS on drums are in sparkling evidence in all of Red's beautifully conceived and brilliantly executed arrangements. So set up your turn- table make yourself comfortable and the RED NORVO QUINTET will set up shop right in your living room. Relax- because it's NORVO Naturally!

I'll Remember Paris
Spider's Web
Tenderly
Lullaby Of Birdland
Stella By Starlight
Scorpion's Nest
Funny Valentine
Love For Sale

The Woody Herman Band!

 

Strange

The Woody Herman Band!

Capitol Records T560
1954

Woody Herman - Clarinet & Alto Sax
Dick Hafer, Bill Perkins, Dave Madden - Tenor Saxes
Jack Nimitz - Baritone Sax
Al Porcino, Dick Collins, John Howell, Charlie Walp, Bill Castagnino - Trumpets
Cy Touff - Bass Trumpet
Dick Kenney, Keith Moon - Trombones
Nat Pierce - Piano
Reed Kelly - Bass
Chuck Flores - Drums

From the back cover: One of the most amazing stories in the music business in the past few years has been the return to the big band field of Woody Herman, and his subsequent demonstration that a big band can be successful and still play the kind of music it wants to.Woody, who has been around the entertainment world a long time – he was billed in vaudeville as "The Boy Wonder of the Clarinet" in 1922 when he was nine years old – had led three highly successful big bands when he organized his Sextet in the early 1950s. The first Herman band, "The Band That Plays the Blues," was a pre-war favorite in the late swing era. The second was the great 1945-46 "First Herd" which set music business records in the mid-forties that still stand. The other was the "Second Herd," the 1947-48 band that featured the famous Four Brothers sound the most imi- tated band sound in jazz – and which recorded the classic Early Autumn for Capitol. Despite the fact that this band won the Down Beat poll and other honors, the music business was at such a low ebb at the time that the "Second Herd" had to be scrapped.

When Woody formed his present band, the one that has become known as the "Third Herd," he carefully planned it to aim first at the dancing public and secondly at the jazz fans. Ralph Burns, Woody's chief arranger and composer of Early Autumn, wrote a basic book designed to keep the Four Brothers sound, featuring danceable tunes in good tempos and yet spicing them with sufficient jazz flavor to hold the interest, not only of the musicians themselves, but of the jazz-minded members of the younger generation.

That they have done this is evident from the success story of the band. In the past three years they have worked 50 weeks of the year with a regular ten days or two weeks vacation. They have pioneered in the presentation of modern big band swing in such spots as the Golden Hotel in Reno and the Statler in New York. In addition, they have made a specialty of playing, with notable success, at college proms and concerts during the spring and fall.

Early in 1954, the "Third Herd" introduced Europe to this type of American orchestra and the subsequent headlines in the British trade papers were enthusiastic. "The Band Is As Great As They Say," the New Musical Express headlined in a rave review.

The reasons for the "Third Herd's" popularity are self-evident on this record. There is the supple, rhythmic foundation – the swing which characterizes Woody Herman; there is the intelligent attention to melodic ballads, beautiful in treatment, bringing out the loveliness that can be jazz; and there is the precision, versatility, and excitement of a big band that is adept, sure of itself, and secure in the knowledge that a major part of its function is to reach the audience.

Over the cleanly swinging rhythm, Woody has integrated the best of modern jazz and the fundamentals of the swing school with the intention of playing for the people, playing good dance music and good jazz-because the roots of jazz are in dance music, and the excitement and fire of jazz can reach almost any audience if it is based on good dance rhythms. It is a tribute to Woody as a musician and as a leader that he has done this. – Ralph J. Gleason Editor, "The Rhythm Section," San Francisco Chronicle

These are the tunes on this record, presenting an excellent cross-section of the varied talents of the "Third Herd."

WILD APPLE HONEY, a great flagwaver, is by now a Herman standard. Tenor solos are by Bill Perkins and Dick Hafer; Cy Touff is heard on bass trumpet; and Charlie Walp's long trumpet solo intro- duces a series of exchanges between the men in the trumpet section.

STRANGE, a beautiful ballad arranged by Ralph Burns, features Woody's romantic alto sax and Dick Kenney's lyric trombone..

MISTY MORNING, a Ralph Burns original, features Woody's alto and Bill Perkins' tenor in what seems destined to be an- other Early Autumn.

WOULD HE?, a catchy original by Manny Albam, offers solos by Touff, Perkins, and Woody on clarinet.

SLEEP, the old standard in an excellent dance tempo, gives Jack Nimitz his chance for a baritone solo after bits by Perkins and Nat Pierce.

AUTOBAHN BLUES, a Ralph Burns original celebrating the Third Herd's visit to Germany in 1954, has solos by Perkins, Woody, and Pierce before a beautiful trumpet chorus by John Howell. This sort of solid blues number is a strong point with this band and seems likely to become a jazz classic.

BY PLAY, a Manny Albam original, features Cy Touff and his bass trumpet in a bright number.

LA CUCARACHA MAMBO is a whimsical arrangement by Billy May. Woody stars on clarinet and the insinuating dance rhythm is simply delightful.

ILL WIND, a ballad of the late 30s arranged by Ralph Burns, features a beautiful soft trumpet solo by Dick Collins, one of the young stars of the Third Herd, another excellent tenor solo by Perkins, and some warm, moving alto by Woody.

BOO HOO, an arrangement of the old pop tune by Nat Pierce, is done in excellent dance tempo and features Collins and Touff trading four bar choruses on the trumpet and bass trumpet.

HITTIN' THE BOTTLE, an old novelty from the 30s, is a head arrangement with solos by Woody, Touff, Perkins and some high note trumpet by Bill Castagnino.