Tag: jazz

Lush Life

There are certain records, certain tracks, that instantly take you back to where you were when you heard them for the very first time. John Coltrane’s “Lush Life” (the first version he recorded, the 1958 version with Red Garland, Donald Byrd, Paul Chambers, and Louis Hayes) is one of those albums, and one of those tracks.

The whole record is unusual in Trane’s discography. The first three tunes are performed by a pianoless trio (Red Garland apparently forgot to show up for the session), and they show a keen sense of rhythm and a searching intelligence while still demonstrating Trane’s mastery of playing over the chords. The fifth track, a quartet session with Garland, Chambers, and Albert Heath on drums, is a straight ahead reading of “I Hear a Rhapsody”–a nice enough performance, but unremarkable by itself.

No, it’s the title track that makes one sit up and pay attention, as I did when I brought it back to my dorm room in the fall of 1990, a story which I’ve told before. All the more if you think of the story (not the words. The words themselves have so little poetry that it’s a miracle that Johnny Hartman brought what he did to the song five years later)–the sad, romantic story of the man who was idly bored until a miracle of love came into his life, and then quietly heartbroken when love departed. So he tries to bolster his spirits, only to confront his own solitude: “Romance is mush/stifling those who thrive/I’ll live a lush life/in some small dive/and there I’ll be/while I rot with the rest/of those whose lives are lonely too.”

Only the artistry of Strayhorn could take us through the gorgeousness of the tune into the depths of that solitude within a single song. One thinks, he must have been a lot of fun at parties.

Review: This Here is Bobby Timmons

this here is bobby timmons

For every jazzman who has a long, illustrious career (think Dexter Gordon), or who blazes bright only to burn out too quickly (Charlie Parker or John Coltrane), there is a Bobby Timmons—an artist with a few frustrating flashes of brilliance followed by a long descent into alcoholism. By the time This Here is Bobby Timmons, Timmons’ first record as a leader, was recorded in 1960, he had already written three seminal original tunes while working with Art Blakey and Cannonball Adderly: “Moanin’,” “This Here,” and “Dat Dere.” 1960 was the peak year in Timmons’ career; he appeared or led on over 20 recordings with Blakey, both Adderly brothers, Lee Morgan, and Buddy Rich, among others. Thereafter his output as a performer and composer diminished until at the end of the decade he was appearing on only one or two sessions a year, and those live rather than studio appearances.

What happened to Timmons? Ironically, his very success may have been his undoing. Some writers have suggested that he was stereotyped as a simple soul player after his originals, which were very much in the “soul jazz” tradition of the early sixties and incorporated simple soul, blues and gospel licks into jazz’s compositional repertoire, became big hits. In fact, some writers go so far as to credit “Moanin’” and “This Here” with making Art Blakey and Cannonball Adderly (respectively) commercial successes.

That Timmons had higher ambitions than the soul-jazz crown can be glimpsed from the set list of this release, which tackles such classics of the repertoire as Ellington’s “Prelude to a Kiss,” “My Funny Valentine,” and Strayhorn’s “Lush Life”—the last as a solo number. The arrangements of all of these numbers are as straightforward jazz covers with little of the stride or gospel influences that Timmons was more famous for. Unfortunately, these numbers occasionally fall flat as a result. It’s on Timmons’ originals that the set really comes alive—though his “Lush Life” hints at the possibility of some deeper artistry, the other cuts either stay resolutely in the same soul-jazz groove or become facile and timid.

This reissue from Fantasy is part of a new line of SACD rereleases of seminal Riverside, Prestige and Contemporary recordings. The sound on the standard CD layer of the hybrid disc is clean and balanced, with the low end gamely holding its own against the cymbal-heavy sound of Jimmy Cobb’s drums—in fact, in a few places the bass seems a little too much in the mix, for instance on the second chorus of “Dat Dere” and on “My Funny Valentine.” A tape wobble partway through “The Party’s Over,” apparently present in the original master, slightly mars the sound, but otherwise the recording is clean and transparent, allowing the listener to hear Timmons’ grunts (like a quieter Keith Jarrett) as well as the music.

Ultimately, This Here is Bobby Timmons is a document from one of the major jazz movements of the fifties and sixties, and should be appreciated in that spirit. This release provides the most transparent glimpse yet into Timmons’ soulful playing and his studio sessions. Also recommended for a fuller vision of Timmons as a performer are his key sessions with Cannonball and with the Jazz Messengers. As a sideman, he was hard to beat; as a composer, he added new sounds and rhythms to the rich griot of jazz; as a leader, his tragically short career denied him the time to grow and mature.

Originally published on BlogCritics.

Holiday songs: Duke Ellington’s Three Suites

duke ellington three suites

Today’s holiday album that doesn’t suck is…well, not really a holiday album. This 1960 recording of Ellington and his orchestra collects three big band arrangements of well-known suites, classical and otherwise: Edvard Grieg’s “Peer Gynt” suite, Ellington’s own “Suite Thursday,” and the reason for this disc’s inclusion in my holiday “must listen” pile, Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite.”

What Ellington and his band do to this chestnut has to be heard to be believed. Who knew that Piotr Illych could swing this hard? (Well, maybe Piotr Illych did. He was a pretty wacky cat.) The suite takes on new life and color in Duke’s able hands. The orchestration is superb, with melody lines jumping from instrument to instrument and big satisfyingly crunchy chords filling out the corners of the familiar Nutcracker melodies. But the real story is in Duke’s rhythmic innovations around the edges of the melodies. The “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy,” here recast as “Sugar Rum Cherry,” is played as a slow slinky swinger. The Russian Dance (“Volga Vouty”) is almost funky as a slow burner. And the faster numbers rock out, with the March (“Peanut Butter Brigage”), Entr’act, and Arabesque Dance (“Arabesque Cookie”) swinging so hard that even the most seasoned swing dancer would break a sweat on the ballroom floor.

After years of my sister’s ballet class dancing the Nutcracker, I never thought of the music as a holiday must listen, but this recording changed my mind. Duke and his band turn it into a modern holiday classic.