Lightningbug's Jazz and Blues Review ... the birth of the cool ...


nickderiso

TheDerisoReport.com
We're going to start -- where else -- by talking about Miles Davis.
I'd like to get off the beaten path, though ... and dig into some of the more unsung albums ... Here are five that you may not have heard lately -- or at all. If not, avail yourself, baby!:

1. "In a Silent Way," from 1969. "B-i-t-c-hes Brew" got all the press. But on my desert island, give me this particular Miles fusion release.
There are only two titles for each side, and neither is a song. (Side two was the closing for one of the first jazz radio programs I ever did, long ago at the college station. I loved saying those words: "And now, side two of Miles Davis' 'In A Silent Way'...")
Best of all is not the mighty, mighty grooves or the desultory rock-style soloing, but those quiet moments when Miles neatly presupposes the 1990's so-called "space" music.

2. "Amandla," from 1989. The old man still had it. Don't believe me? The band (as always) says it all: new altoist Kenny Garrett, pianist Marcus Miller, keyboardist Joey DeFrancesco, tenor Rick Margitza, pianist Joe Sample.
"Mr. Pastorius" is so straight-ahead, considering the time-frame, that I got misty. Yet his pop leanings find great purpose throughout. An admirable record in that it is both hit-single sounding and jazz credible.

3. "On the Corner," from 1972 -- has to be his tripping-est album ever ... and his most street-level. (Even more so than the hip-hop record; more on that later.)
I love the distorted guitars and strangely thin, double-timed drums here; sounds like north Mississippi blues meets heroin. Must be his biggest bird-flipping release. I mean, the dude put his trumpet through a guitar amp!
I love it for that. Be real: Nothing says Miles like a bird being flipped.

4. "Doo-Bop," from 1991. Miles never stopped shedding sidemen -- and skins.
If you could follow him from cool to kinda-classical to modal to hot through to a rocking, then ambient "In A Silent Way," then you had to follow him into pop. (I liked "Time After Time," for what it was trying to do.) What that means is you understand the artistry, without getting bogged down in the labels.
For Miles, there must then have followed this, a hip hop excursion -- the next natural outgrowth. Davis said he wanted to make the kind of music he heard coming from passing cars when he opened the windows of his home. As such, all of these permutations were required.
I liked the record on these terms. It's not a great hip hop effort. However, it is -- coming from a guy who played nonet cool jazz along side the likes of Shorty Rogers in the 1940s -- ever forward looking, ever hopeful and ever entertaining.

5. Finally, you'll notice I stayed away from the old stuff. Mostly because the old stuff is not that unsung anymore. Loving Miles is getting mysteriously close to loving Louie Armstrong. Join the darn club. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
So, I'm going to cheat: The last thing Miles recorded before his death was startling indeed. It's a loving look back, recorded with the old Gil Evans arrangements ... "Live at Montreux," from 1991.
I'd be hard pressed, frankly, to imagine such a thing were possible. Quincy Jones conducted the outing -- which included cuts from "Birth of the Cool," "Porgy and Bess," "Sketches of Spain" and "Miles Ahead."

The beauty is not in the telling: Miles is clearly about to succumb to those things which ailed him.
The beauty is that this fierce rebel, this restless wanderer, would have taken the time to revisit these wonders at all.
Often times, his protege -- the young trumpeter Wallace Roney -- steps in to buttress the proceedings. But I never stopped having the feeling that this was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, Miles taking a rare moment to look back over his shoulder.
Sadly, that's all too right: A few weeks after this concert, Miles was admitted to an LA hospital and things went south. Death was attributed to pneumonia, but Quincy allows as there were multiple causes.

Q's liner notes, a kind of love letter to Davis, are touching and true: "You really did revolutionize jazz five times. After you, who?"

Indeed.

More to come ...
 
Youhave to mention Miles Smiles, Milestones & Nefertiti because those are my favorites. I don't know if either is included in your asement of the more popular Miles albums, but I love them both.

But I think that the albums that are more poular are that for a reason. Miles on Coulumbia is classic Miles. Round about Midnight (which I am jamming right now) is great. As well as BB, etc.
 

Click here to visit HBCUSportsShop
Suge, I see you are deep into The Classic Period. Nothing -- I mean, NOTHING -- wrong with that.
I've got a cool little favorite from that era, one that not everybody's heard of ... Somethin' Else, a 1958 Cannonball Adderly record on Blue Note that features Davis as a sideman.

What a cast! There's Miles and Cannon, course. (Adderly had left his own group in 1957 to join Miles.) But there's more: Oh-so-cool, oh-so-old school pianist Hank Jones, bassist Sam Jones and drummer Art Blakey, associated with the the then-new school of hard hop.

Hard bop and MILES? Fertile, indeed. No one disappoints ... least of all Miles -- who was, after all, involved with Charlie Parker (certainly a "hot" player) on what I think of as Bird's best work.

Blakey, turns out, is tasteful and understated throughout. They all can be: Pay special attention to the Latin undertones from all three soloists in "Love for Sale."

But that doesn't mean there isn't a lot of heart -- in fact, perhaps a little more than their more famous collaboration a year later -- 1959's "Kind of Blue."

The title track can be well-regarded as Adderly and Davis' most sympathetic pairing (since to my mind Coltrane so dominates in response on "Kind of Blue"). Miles murmurs his solo phases ... each simple, short, brilliant -- all bolstered and fleshed out with the fat and easy echoing of Cannonball.
Love Jones' piano work there, too -- a nod to Evans in that block chord style.

Jones, of course, was no novice, though. "That delicate touch of Hank's," Miles told Leonard Feather, "there's so few that can get it. Bill Evans and Shearing and Teddy Wilson have it. Art Tatum had it."

Cannonball closes out with a showcase on "Dancing in the Dark," at Miles' insistence -- but by then I've almost become certain that this is the lesser-known, but very worthy, companion piece to "Kind of Blue" that every Miles fan should have.

See, it actually IS kind of blue -- if only because Cannonball breathes so much soul into any side.

Scratch that every-Miles-fan comment. Make it: This is the lesser-known, but very worthy, companion piece to "Kind of Blue" that every JAZZ fan should have.
 
I just watched an incredible documentyary this weekend on Encore True about the Blue Note Label. I liked theh show so much I watched it twice.

It talked about the origins of the label. Many of the lesser known artist, and why Blue Note was so intrumental in taking Jazz to the masses. The best part was showing many of the old blue note album covers. And discussing the artist resoning as to why he potographed the musicins the way he did and the importance of cover art with the old LP's.

And amazing show. talked about Trane, Miles, Herbie Hancock(who is often over looked, but is a mucical giant for over 4 decades, but most only know him for that song he did in the 80's) etc. But the show was dynamic.

PBS is showing all of the Ken Burns stories. I am waiting until they show his history of jazz again!
 
That's six Miles recommendations from me so far.
Let's make it an even 10:

I'll heartily agree (who wouldn't??) on "'Round about Midnight" and "Kind of Blue," of course.
ALSO:
"Miles Ahead": In the style of "Birth of the Cool," but far more modern.
"Live Around the World": A great look into his last period, with tremendous version of "Tutu."

HONORABLE MENTIONS:
-- "Filles De Kilimanjaro": Title track is one of ineffable beauty.
-- "Cookin' at the Plugged Nickel": Frenzied '60s genius.
-- "A Tribute to Miles": That same 1960s group, just after Davis' death, with Wallace Roney on trumpet. Hancock is brilliant.
 
Let's move on to some blues ...

I'd like to start new-school -- with Robert Cray.

Call him yuppie if you want, but at least he doesn't play rock and pass it off as blues, as do so many of the new so-called crossover artists. Saw him for the first time in New Orleans, and I'll always associate a song I heard that night with the city and its football team: "The Forecast (Calls for Pain)." Such a great blues title.

Singing something like O.V. Wright (the great 1960s singer on Memphis' Hi Records), Cray also plays in the crisp, crying fashion of B.B. King. One well-placed guitar note might be all he hits, while others would play three or four.

I came to know about Robert Cray by association. Digging through the blues stacks at the old SOOTO Records in the Shreveport, I stumbled across the 1985 album "Showdown!" on Alligator, featuring two I knew and one I didn't: Albert Collins, Johnny Copeland ... and some dude named Robert Cray. I bit -- and boy, am I glad I did.

Cray was very obviously influenced by Collins -- who burned a Telecaster legend into place at Cray's high school graduation. But, I later followed him as a kind of new-wave Moses ... the guy who made it OK for most folks to admit to liking blues again. I mean, in the late 1980s, he was on MTV!

The breakthrough "Strong Persuader" (with "Smoking Gun," it won him a Grammy) also includes one of my favorites from him, "Foul Play." Just a GALLOPING bass line.
 
A newer record from Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown ...

Gatemouth Brown crosses more boundries than Delta Airlines.
Big band swing? Gotcha. Down-home blues? Sure thing.
Funk, jazz, zydeco, bluegrass, calypso? Comin' right up.

It's ironic then that on 1992's "No Looking Back," by Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, (Alligator) is an opening track like "Digging Up New Ground," the most old-school of anything here: a straight blues track, sung low.
It's not tired, now -- not by any means. But ... it ain't exactly "new ground."

That comes next: "Dope" is in the now-classic Gate mold, a blurry amalgamation that swings. It fact, it nearly bucks.
Then there's one featuring the now-washed-up 1980s folkster Michelle Shocked, singing on a country-ish number called "I Will Be Your Friend."
I will be your shocked fan.

Coming fast on the heels of the Grammy-nominated "Standing My Ground" from 1989, "No Looking Back" solidified it: Gate was "back" ... with a crotchity sound made new.

So, the ever-evolving Brown is, in fact, standing his ground. There are five new originals, six covers -- with four stinging instrumentals (always the tastiest morsels on Brown's later records). Even so, this big-horn arrangement sounds a lot like his older stuff, circa the 1950s.
 
Look at you two Funroe dudes getting all cultural up in heah. I'm not much of a jazz man, although I have taken time in my life to listen to some jazz radio stations from time to time. I was mostly impressed with the works of Dizzy Gillepsie, The Crusaders, and Earl Klugh. I'm gonna have to listen more to some Miles Davis on a deeper degree. I've always recognized and appreciated his genius but as a rule, I hardly buy musiic anymore.

Being North La, I can't help but be a blues man. My personal all-time favorite is the Hook, John Lee Hooker. The man was brilliant! My favorites are Boom Boom Boom!, One Bourbon, One Scotch, 1 Beer and his collabaration with Van Morrison (I'll never get out of these blues alive)!

Have either of you had the chance to catch a performance by The Blues Machine outta Monroe? Are they still performing? Man, when I lived in Monroe, I used to love to get my Saturday evening drink started at either the Elite or Willie T's over in Booker T.
 
I had to restrict my Miles Davis to:

Birth of Cool
Kind of Blue
Sketches of Spain

Those get me where I need to be...


And the Panthalasa Miles remix cd.
 
Originally posted by MikeBigg
Have either of you had the chance to catch a performance by The Blues Machine outta Monroe? Are they still performing? Man, when I lived in Monroe, I used to love to get my Saturday evening drink started at either the Elite or Willie T's over in Booker T.


Ah, the Elite! Been a while since I've been in -- kids and all -- but back in the day I was a regular happenstance there: Artie "Blues Boy" White was a staple. Best show ever was a Thanksgiving gig by Little Milton, must've been 15 years back now. We were ALL bawling when he started in on "Walking the Back Streets ..." then RIGHT back on the dance floor for "Grits Ain't Groceries" ...

If you want to dig DEEP on Gillespie ... here's a great one ...

Just popped in Coleman Hawkins' smoker "Rainbow Mist" (it's on the Chicago label Delmark), from 1944 -- a brilliant record borne out of boredom.
Hawkins, the tenor saxman, had already made his splash with the song "Body and Soul," back in 1939. When he returned from living in Europe for five years, he took a chance on updating his by-then decrepit standard -- stirring in some talented unknowns that had yet to reach a mainstream audience.

Hawkins caught a young trumpet player named John Birks Gillespie at the Onyx Club and, by all accounts, liked what he heard. Dizzy, of course, would call that group the first bonafide bop configuration.
Coleman knew a few of the particulars: Co-leader was bassist Oscar Pettiford, who'd played on Hawkins' "The Man I Love." He was also a fan of the tenormen in Dizzy's group, Budd Johnson and Don Byas.
Not hard to see what was brewing here. Hawk was out to top himself -- so he called in some young lions, even letting a kid named Max Roach sit in on drums.

This new take on "Body and Soul" was notable then for two reasons. It was the debut session for Apollo Records, a label that started at the Rainbow Music Shop near the Apollo Theater in Harlem.
More importantly, some call this the original bop recording. ("Rainbow Mist" includes the first recorded version of the bop standard "Salt Peanuts," for instance.)

As you might imagine, "Rainbow Mist" (named for that Harlem record store) is big. Five saxes and three trumpets is how big.
"Woody 'n You" is a fierce example of early Gillespie. For one moment, it is ALL Dizzy and Hawk -- Gillespie with the countermelody and Coleman skidding over the top.

The unstated thing here is the brilliance of this date's rhythm section. Pettiford and Roach are utterly in command of this sound of jazz to come.

Later dates are included in this sterling and remastered reissue, and they feature a separate band -- spotlighted by legendary tenor player Ben Webster; this proves to be an interesting study.
Hawkins must have been watching Webster closely in the days leading up to this session. His solos alternately mimic and complement Webster throughout.

Charlie Shavers -- who, along with Gillespie, was a member of Frank Fairfax's large band in the 1930s -- takes the turn most associated with Dizzy on "Salt Peanuts." That dude just blows a HOLE in the second half of the album.

A must-have for jazz fans.
 
I'm sorry LB, but you MB, and Dirty are all on yourown when it comes to the Blues. Maybe I'm just not old enough, or maybe I won't ever like it. but i just can't get into the blues at all!! My aunt used to run the "Underground" a club off Jackson St. and I used to go an dclean up on the weekends to make some money in high school....and all they played was Blues, and it sucked! But I did get to me Rudy Ray Moore!!!

Now on the jazz issue. I don't like Big Band Jazz. I like the turn that the genre took in the 50's when it became even more creative and artist started to develop distict sounds. some so distict that when you her a song you know who it is. But I never got into the big bands, which may be why I am not a huge fan of Bird. But that's another issue all together.

I love George Benson as well, mainly because I love the guitar. I have several GB albums. i just would rather he play, than sing.

Of new artist, I listen to J Redman alot, I have a few of his albums, and of course I have about 5 or 6 Marsalis(sp.) albums. he just puts out so many!
 
The Underground! Now I saw Rudy at a joint just down from the underpass on Plum Street, back when I lived in Monroe. Forgot the name of club, though. Was that it??

Ask your aunt if she knew the legendary Odis Warren Jackson -- he booked bands for the Elite in the Booker T area of Monroe and, more famously, the Members Club in Richwood. He was a Chicago transplant (an ex-prison employee in Gary, they called him The Warden sometimes) and one of the best friends I ever had.

*
To me, Redman is one of the more impressive young tenor players in recent memory.
His first record, the 1993 self-titled release, was a wonder. Even as he gripped the horn and took off into an improvisation, there was sure-footed instinct for melody.
Young Redman appeared to be something like a warmer, more tuneful Sonny Rollins.

Check that: "Wish," Warner Bros., released later that same year and featuring guitarist Pat Metheny, rips that hypothesis to shreads. (The title track is a tune from "Joshua Redman," included here in a version done live at the Village Vanguard.)

This recording is something like Redman's degree in Ornette-thology. Also sitting in are thumpers Charlie Haden and Billy Higgens on bass and drums. They, along with Metheny, have all been associated with Ornette Coleman over the years.
"Wish" even blasts off with Coleman's composition "Turnaround."

Here's where it really gets weird. Joshua's father Dewey (like his son, a saxophonist) played with Coleman. Dewey was also on Metheny's great "80/81" release on ECM ... which featured a version of Coleman's composition "Turnaround."

Metheny, in fact, contributes much toward making "Wish" what it was: A bold new direction of Redman.
Redman seemed to have emerged already assured, and with his own voice. "Wish" proved that wasn't entirely true -- that Redman could still be taken to new plateaus when he's roughed up by a great backing group.
 
Back to blues ...

Proclaimed by the U.S. Congress as 'The Year of The Blues,' 2003's highlights included this fall's extensive PBS
documentary series on the genre. In September, BMG Heritage also celebrated
this tradition with a series of impeccably curated blues releases,
including new titles in Bluebird's acclaimed and best-selling series 'When
The Sun Goes Down: The Secret History of Rock and Roll;' collections of
seminal vintage blues ('Worried Life Blues') and modern classics ('Every
Day I Have the Blues'); and a collection of Taj Mahal's essential
recordings from the late 1990's.

Here's a look:

'When The Sun Goes Down: The Secret History of Rock and Roll' (Three Titles):
Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup; Rock Me Mamma VOLUME 7
Sonny Boy Williamson: Blue Bird Blues VOLUME 8
Blind Willie McTell: Statesboro Blues VOLUME 9

I am especially impressed with this stuff by Crudup, whose hits launched the career of Elvis
Presley; Sonny Boy Williamson, creator of what became the Chicago blues
sound; and the only complete collection of the Victor recordings of Blind
Willie McTell, the first blues master of the 12-string guitar.

Drawing on the catalog of RCA Victor and Bluebird recordings - perhaps the greatest
of all early blues catalogs -- the three titles represent the newest
installments in the series, which aims to present the very first recorded
versions of songs that went on to become standards of electric blues and
rock 'n' roll.

The first 'When The Sun Goes Down' titles were released in 2002 to
acclaim, with Billboard noting: "Blessed by phenomenal
remastering and ace liner notes...the series' subtitle is no idle boast:
White and black, male and female, these artists indeed wrote "The Secret
history of Rock 'n' Roll."
Look out for the first ever DVD addition to the 'When The Sun Goes Down'
series with Howlin' Wolf.

Worried Life Blues
Every Day I Have The Blues

These two collections map the blues through 100 years of turbulent
American history, from the cotton patch to the concert hall.

With only one exception, closing track Johnny Moore's 1949 classic "How
Blue Can You Get (Downhearted)," a B.B. King concert staple, 'Worried Life
Blues' draws material from the fertile period between the century's two
world wars. Opening with Sonny Boy Williamson's "Good Morning, School
Girl," the 16 tracks run the gamut, with highlights ranging from Big Bill
Broonzy's "Keep Your Hands Off Her" to Leadbelly's "Midnight Special."

On 'Every Day I Have The Blues' we hear blues as it grew into form we know
today, plugged in and turned up. Containing key Chicago tracks such as
Elmore James's "Dust My Broom," Howlin' Wolf's "Little Red Rooster" and
Bobby Bland's "Stormy Monday Blues," the collection also includes current
artists such as Robert Cray and The Jeff Healey Band.

Taj Mahal
Blues With A Feeling: The Very Best Of Taj Majal

Taj's career began with an early love and fascination with country
blues, but by the 1990s had reached a new level of success, documented on
this collection, incorporating more eclectic musical forms, including
reggae, ragtime, African music, Hawaiian sounds, West Indian and calypso,
and Zydeco.

Throughout, 'Blues With A Feeling' showcases rock, pop, blues and
R&B-flavored material Taj recorded during his years on Private Music,
including "You've Got To Love Her With A Feeling," a duet with Eric
Clapton, and "Mockingbird" with Etta James.

MORE ON THE YEAR OF THE BLUES
In 1903, on a lonely train platform in Tutwiler, Miss., African
American composer W.C. Handy is said to have encountered a man playing "the weirdest music
I had ever heard," an unexpected sound that would soon expand to become the
most influential form of American roots music. And although it reverberates
to this day across the globe, both on its own and through the many genres
of which it is the foundation -- including jazz, rhythm and blues, rock 'n'
roll, soul, and hip-hop -- it is still known, quite simply, as the blues.

In celebration of the 100th anniversary of this encounter, and in
recognition of the blues' ongoing impact on music and cultural history,
both in America and around the world, on Sept. 5, 2002, the United
States Congress proclaimed the year 2003 as the "Year of the Blues."

See what has happened to football teams from Grambling State and New Orleans, well, I think they were on to something ... :)
 
I said Underground.....I meant the UnderPass. On the corner of Jackson and Plum St., Across from the Cracker Barrell(I used to work there too). The club was owned by F. Nash. He has a new spot now, on South 2nd, across from Johnnys Pizza! I forget the name of the new club...but I'll be there checking out all the old people acting a fool when I get home for X-mas!
 
Underpass ... that was it. Rudy Ray was a STAPLE.

Other jazzy thoughts ...

I have grown to have deep appreciation for the work of bassist Ray Brown -- one of those underrated guys who kept on producing important work well past his so-called prime, because Brown was such an in-the-pocket guy.

You can't go wrong with the old Jazz at the Philharmonic stuff, of course. But I couldn't more highly recommend his late-period work on Telarc.

Ray Brown first appeared on the label on some of its first major non-classical releases, debuting in 1989 with Andre Previn and Mundell Lowe on "After Hours." So-so, but then he got hot -- very hot: Brown's 1993 trio recording (with Benny Green and Jeff Hamilton), called "Bass Face," is one of my favorite Brown releases ever. (And that includes stints with Peterson, Basie and Gillespie.)

Critics took notice of the career renaissance: In 1999, Brown won Acoustic Bassist of the Year in Down Beat?s Readers Poll.

Best of all, though, was this: A 1999 album with Oscar Peterson and Milt Jackson, called "The Very Tall Band." Ooooh, I've burned this one UP! Recorded live at the Blue Note in November 1998, we now mourn the passing of two of its stars.

In 2001, Brown released "SuperBass 2," another live recording, this time at the Blue Note in New York City. Bassists John Clayton and Christian McBride were featured.

ALSO check out ... "Some of My Best Friends Are... Guitarists," with John Pizzarelli, Herb Ellis, Russell Malone, Ulf Wakenius, Bruce Forman and Kenny Burrell, is the latest installment in Ray Brown?s "Some of My Best Friends Are..." series -- released in June '02.
 

Click here to visit HBCUSportsShop
Anybody remember that old R&B hit "My Back Scratcher?" It's a doozy by Frank Frost from "Jelly Roll Blues" on Paula Records.
"We were just settin' in the studio and the song came 'round. One take," Frost has said. "It's short -- yes, Lord -- 'cause I was out of wind."

So, sure, "My Back Scratcher" has a one-off feel. But that (deeply appreciated) in-studio looseness, you realize, makes this tune pure genius.
As produced by Scotty Moore -- yeah, Elvis' guitarist -- this record hits a groove on the first cut ... and that's that. From there on out, it's a can't-sit-still barrage of high-flying harmonica antics, go-ahead-and-holler vocals and serious shaking rhythms.

One minor gripe: The liner notes are awfully thin on "Jelly Roll Blues." For instance, we don't know who's playing on the date, or when it was recorded.
However, the disc itself, with its even sound quality and hot-dog playing, is nothing if not extraordinary.

For what it's worth, Frost's band probably included guitarist Big Jack Johnson and drummer Sam Carr, Robert Nighthawk's son -- both of whom where recording with Frost at the time.
Delta hipster tip: All three appeared on several albums; a good place to start would be the great 1992 compilation "Clarksdale, Miss.: Coahoma the Blues," from the Rooster Blues label.
 
Sadly, two of these cats are both gone now ...

North Louisiana reached the end of the twentieth century with some things unchanged. Some people still worked hard--many with their hands--and prayed harder, and blues singers still spoke to it with guitar, harmonica, and the human voice. Among those who speak, were four men who seem to form a kind of conversation about black and white, past and present.

There was Jesse Thomas of Shreveport. On his old records, he's a whispering recollection of all that is desired and feared, of human longing. There was Brownie Ford of Hebert: When he sung about Cowboy Jack, Ford was fierce and determined, personifying everything that makes the South what it is in our mind--expansive, scary, yet hopeful. And there is Henry and Tookie of Rayville, two friends who perhaps wouldn't have been friends in another time. A black man and a white man, joined together in songs celebrating the heavy air of the Delta.

In those four men, two white and two black, we can clearly see where blues has come from and where it's going. Their music unfolds in a time-honored way--blues or ballads sung loud--but in a most modern form: The overlay of race permeates their work, yet never shouts down its true voice.

Here's the link to the rest of
"The Hiding and Watching Louisiana I-20 Blues":
http://www.louisianafolklife.org/LT..._120_blues.html
 
great thread

l-bug

good stuff here

Somethin' Else is CLASSIC - rare form for true artists

Like Dirty, i love Sketches of Spain

I'm glad that you mentioned Street Corner - i 've been curious about that for a while

some names to drop on y'all to check out:

CARLA COOK
LIZ WRIGHT

these two young sisters are very talented vocalists (the former on MAXJAZZ and the latter on VERVE)

talking the blues, ?whachuknowbout Big Maybelle and Little Ester?

hey, lemme know when you want to talk about Afro-Cuban jazz
 
cook.gif


404525-music-resized200.JPG


cccover3157.jpg


media_wright@72dpi.jpg


lizz_wright_byst.jpg


lwright.jpg


6429794.gif
 
Originally posted by Suge
Herbie Hancock(who is often over looked, but is a mucical giant for over 4 decades, but most only know him for that song he did in the 80's)

Funny, I was talking with a buddy of mine -- originally from Louisiana, he lives in Dallas now -- about Herbie. What he said was priceless:

Herbie Hancock Takin' Off (1962) - The debut record by one of jazz's most important keyboardists since 1960.

While later Blue Note releases such as Maiden Voyage and Empyrean Isles get all the accolades, the first time out finds Hancock always fully formed as both a classically-influenced jazz pianist and a serious composer. This is where the much-covered "Watermelon Man" first appeared.

The bonus is having a horn section of Dexter Gordon and Freddie Hubbard, during a period when they were both recording excellent albums themselves.

I asked him for a less obvious recommendation from Hancock ... Jazzbo recommends ...

Herbie Hancock Mr. Hands (1980) - The seventies began very creatively for HH, first with the space funk Mwandishi albums follwed by the better-known Head Hunters period that firmly eastablished Herbie's pre-eminance in synthesized instrumental funk.

But as the decade wore on, the music got less and less creative until it devolved into generic disco. Right at the end of this era, though, Hancock re-asserts control to generate an electric jazz album with every song distinguishable and original.

Jaco Pastorious puts in meaningful contributions on two tracks, while VSOP mates Ron Carter and Tony Williams guests on a nice island flavored tune appropriately titled "Calypso". Harvey Mason's tricky rhythm on "Shiftless Shuffle" is a reminder of the genius he bestowed on Head Hunters seven years earlier.

But "Just Around The Corner" has got to rank up there with one of the funkiest tunes ever to come from Hancock, the bass/drum progression is the very definition of funk.

Hassan, some thoughts on Afro-Cuban jazz are brewing. Stay tuned ...
 
Make it funky, now!

Maceo Parker -- leader of the ferocious JB Horns, James Brown's band and musical backbone back in the day -- once put it all in perspective, introducing a song from the stage: "We like to play two percent jazz ... and 98 percent funky stuff."

The JBs later took off on their own, recording some terrific solo albums (noteably altoist Parker's "Life on Planet Groove," baritone saxist Pee Wee Ellis' "Blues Mission," bone player Fred Wesley's "Comme Si, Comme Sa"). But we're going to groove for awhile on a collaborative effort, the aptly titled "Funky Good Time/Live" on Gramavision.

The propulsion here in undeniable -- if only because these three guys have been playing together for so long, it's like brothers finishing sentences for one another.
And I love a live soul album, if only because the crowd becomes another growling instrument. Folks howl and grimace, they whoop and hoot -- as, frankly, do these still-rocking JB Horns.

Everybody gets their solo turn, too: Pee Wee on the excellent, excellent "Blues for a L.S.," Fred on "House Party" and Maceo on "Children's World."

But, it's the arm-in-arm revelry of the full-band tunes -- horns tastefully basting each -- that makes this such a funky find. Featured are several songs from the James Brown era -- including the title cut, and "Soul Power."
 
Talking Roomful of Blues.

They haven't taken more than a week off since Nixon's first term.
Meaning they are one of the few blues bands that withstood disco, all the while fathering a rafter-shaking, swing-blues style that saw its own too-fey-by-half revival. (Did you ever notice that all those bands a few years back had names with the word Daddy in them? What---ever.)

So it is that after 30 years, nine guys still make their living as that
funky tabernacle choir, the Roomful of Blues.
Formed in the late 1960s by Duke Robillard, Roomful found its widest popularity much later.
Partly that's because they didn't do much recording early on, until
current saxophonist Rich Lataille joined the band's first horn section in 1970.
It's also partly due to the luck of timing: Roomful of Blues was a
hard-swinging herd of retro cats when being a hard-swinging etc., etc. wasn't cool.
But they've been nominated for four Grammys since 1983. They were named best blues band of the year in the Down Beat international critics poll a few times.
They won a WC Handy Award for best instrumentalist, too - a tribute to the fat, cool sway of Lataille's blowing.

The line-up has been ever-changing: Roomful lost a whopping six members after that Christmas record a while back.
But the vibe is still cleanly soulful, knee-slapping traditional and
above all fun.
Take "Watch You When You Go" (Bullseye Blues and Jazz) -- a windows-down tour of all the blues haunts.
You hit a bump and realize you're leaving Chicago, headed south to Memphis. You gas up in New Orleans and floor it for Kansas City. But not before a pit stop for this lazy Texas shuffle.
Perfect example: They get all over south Louisiana legend Earl King's "Your Love Was Never There" - then they boogie through the title track.

That down-home diversity, coupled with a new graduating class of
performers every few years, always gives Roomful a new sheen: "I feel like I've been in two or three bands," Lataille has said. "The repertoire might be (large), but I'm probably the only one who knows them all."
That long tenure is rewarded on this Roomful album with a
session-closing instrumental Lataille wrote called "Where's Bubba?"

Returning is scorching vocalist Mac Odom, who joined the band for 1998's "There Goes the Neighborhood." In the tradition of big personalities the band has had over the years (Curtis Salgado, Ronnie Earl, Sugar Ray Norcia), here's a guy who doesn't get swallowed up by the bright blast of horns behind him.
Guitarist Chris Vachon, who's been with Roomful since 1990, produces and writes much of their original stuff. (He's also gigged with founder Robillard over the years.)

A particular favorite on "Watch You When You Go" is Vachon's tune "The Salt of My Tears," which chugs along with the kind of chin-wagging rattle associated with the best R&B of their original era.
Roomful isn't done here. They prove equally adept at straight blues, a killer take on "Wait and See" (by Fats Domino and Dave Bartholomew) and the Stevie Ray-swagger of "Backlash."
Ain't nothing new. Nixon's gone, but they remain.
Roomful still piles into the tour bus, making about 200 gigs a year.
They still present a coiled, jumping blues that, through turnover and new commitment, hasn't wrinkled with age.
 
Hey, hassan ... some promised thoughts on Afro-Cuban jazz...

Capitol Records -- under its Blue Note and World Pacific imprints -- put out a much-needed overview of this stuff a while back.
From them emerged a new star: Showcased on both "El Jazz Cubano" (WP) and "Solo Piano" (BN) is the swinging magic of pianist Jesus "Chucho" Valdez.

He's featured both by himself and as the leader of Irakere, one of the most important Cuban jazz outfits since Dizzy's untimely departure. Irakere was founded by Valdez, along with Paquito D'Rivera and Arturo Sandoval, both of whom went on wild acclaim as apprentices with Gillespie.

The anthology features many of the great younger players -- including pianists Hilario Duran (so fleet that you're led to believe that he may, in fact, have three hands) and Gonzalo Rubalcaba -- whose concise, bright arrangements are a high point. Irakere's majestic "Claudia," meanwhile, is romantic and simple.

Featured alone on "Solo Piano," Valdez is even more impressive -- melodic then percussive, cascading then driving. His work is simply sparkling, like a good turn of phrase by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Very cool. Rubalcaba also did an album, mostly solo, called "Imagine" which is fantastic ...
 
Bassist Ray Brown, RIP

I was talking to my buddy Jazzbo about great jazz bassists ...
His take:
If you ask a jazz fan (like me) who they think is the best bass player of the genre, he's likely to to mention names like Charlie Haden, Charles Mingus, Scott LaFaro, Ron Carter or Dave Holland. Ask a jazz bassist, and he's more apt to say Ray Brown. Brown's influence on post-war jazz cannot be underestimated. Now, he was not a soloist on the level of Oscar Pettiford or Holland, but nobody could anchor the bottom as solidly as Ray.

I agree. ...

This is one of those underrated guys who kept on producing important work well past his so-called prime, because Brown was such an in-the-pocket guy.

You can't go wrong with the old Jazz at the Philharmonic stuff, of course. But I couldn't more highly recommend his late-period work on Telarc -- some of which is mentioned above by JB.

Ray Brown first appeared on the label on some of its first major non-classical releases, debuting in 1989 with Andre Previn and Mundell Lowe on "After Hours." So-so, but then he got hot -- very hot: Brown's 1993 trio recording (with Benny Green and Jeff Hamilton), called "Bass Face," is one of my favorite Brown releases ever. (And that includes stints with Peterson, Basie and Gillespie.)

Critics took notice of the career renaissance: In 1999, Brown won Acoustic Bassist of the Year in Down Beat?s Readers Poll.

Best of all, though, was this: A 1999 album with Oscar Peterson and Milt Jackson, called "The Very Tall Band." Ooooh, I've burned this one UP! Recorded live at the Blue Note in November 1998, we now mourn the passing of two of its stars.

In 2001, Brown released "SuperBass 2," another live recording, this time at the Blue Note in New York City. Bassists John Clayton and Christian McBride were featured.

I also liked "Some of My Best Friends Are... Guitarists," with John Pizzarelli, Herb Ellis, Russell Malone, Ulf Wakenius, Bruce Forman and Kenny Burrell -- which, was, I believe, the last installment in Brown?s "Some of My Best Friends Are..." series.
 
Back
Top