Monday Jazz Odyssey Feb 12, 2024
If Two's Company and Three's a Crowd, is a Quintet a Company plus a Crowd?
Joe Lovano’s Jazz Power Trio—A Vinyl Revelation
I’ve been spinning the Tone Poet vinyl edition of Joe Lovano’s Trio Fascination: Edition 1 all week and savoring each listening experience. This record has been a fave since it hit the street back in ‘98, and I was pleased that Team Tone Poet decided to give this record “the treatment.” The CD always sounded quite good, but pales compared to this new vinyl edition. And I’m not an analog purist or vinyl fetishist—if anything, my system leans more favorably to high-res digital via Roon—but this record levels up big time on vinyl. It’s bigger and more spacious and underscores the expertise, versatility, and appetite for adventure running through the bloodstream of this trio. Elvin Jones is a superhero. Anybody wondering if he still had anything to say after such a long, illustrious career will walk away, blown away, and ashamed for even THINKING such a thing. Bassist Dave Holland masterfully engages with Jones to move each conversation forward. That doesn’t mean they always agree; listening to them work things out is captivating. It’s a joyful noise when Lovano enters the chat when things get even MORE real. Here’s “Eternal Joy,” a highlight amongst highlights:
I got into Joe Lovano’s music in the early 90s, but a close encounter in 1996 cemented my fandom. I was invited to Mr. Lovano’s Soho loft to attend a listening party for his (then) new release, Celebrating Sinatra.
At the time, I’d moved on from my wholesale music job (where I constantly engaged with lots of great jazz) to my first label job (where most of the staff and artists on the roster thought The Lonious Monk was some obscure, introverted Dr. Seuss character), so I was stoked for the chance to spend an evening with my old work pals while indulging in a few hours of bop ‘n blues.
Upon arriving at the Lovano loft, my colleagues went to the makeshift bar to get a drink. I made a beeline to the impressive wall of vinyl that seemed to stretch forever. I was browsing wide-eyed at all the classic sides I recognized, making mental notes at the many more I didn’t, when I found myself face-to-face with our host. You don’t have to spend long in the music business to learn how NOT to start a conversation with an artist. But I didn’t have to worry about putting my foot in my mouth or looking like a total fanboy. The affable Mr. Lovano extended a hand, introduced himself, noticed me browsing his vinyl stacks, and asked if I was a collector. That question, of course, is like waving a red flag in front of a bull, and I have no idea how long we talked, but it was long enough that it took a publicist from Blue Note to intervene and remind Mr. Lovano that it was time for him to play.
At that point, Mr. Lovano and his wife performed an impromptu mini-set. He played a variety of saxophones, and she sang. Despite without amplification, rehearsal, or a proper stage, the Lovanos brought the entire room to their knees. That night, between their staggering display of musicianship, hospitality, and Mr. Lovano’s engaging, friendly demeanor, I became a fan for life.
In full disclosure, when I got a copy of the album shortly after, it didn’t hit me where I live, and I’ve never deeply connected with Celebrating Sinatra. It’s not a bad record, but what I heard and felt that night had something more. Whatever secret ingredient might have been absent or in short supply for Celebrating Sinatra was present in full strength in Mr. Lovano’s follow-up, Trio Fascination: Edition 1, which covers a lot of stylistic ground. It also showcases Mr. Lovano’s strengths, manifesting in hard-bop, bebop, blues, and outside/avant-garde experiments.
I hope to see a Joe Lovano trio performance live someday, as I’ve enjoyed seeing him in quartet and quintet lineups over the years. However, in the meantime, I’m still relentlessly spinning the new Tone Poet vinyl of Trio Fascination: Edition 1 as if it’s a brand-new record. I recommend giving it a listen, and if you’ve got a turntable, the vinyl edition is worthy of a space on your shelf.
In Case You Missed It On Instagram:
Curtis Amy & Dupree Bolton ‘Katanga!’
Katanga! is a longtime favorite record, liberated from the darkness of obscurity by Team Tone Poet a couple of years ago, that I wasn’t planning to write about today. But then I read
's excellent, newly updated Substack essay on the supremely talented and tragic trumpeter Dupree Bolton,who KILLS IT on this session, and off to the shelves I went, making a beeline for this record. There’s little choice if you want to hear Dupree Bolton. Absent a surprise from Mr. Gioia’s research when he publishes part two of his essay, Bolton only has two significant studio recordings: Harold Land’s The Fox (due for reissue via Craft Recordings this year) and Katanga! which he recorded with Curtis Amy in 1963 before disappearing. Read the essay. But first, spin this LP. Joining Amy and Bolton are Jack Wilson-piano, Ray Crawford-guitar, Victor Gaskin-bass, and Doug Sides-drums. The tight, swinging, adrenaline-fueled title track opens this album with enough intensity and precision to get everyone’s attention. Bolton’s lunatic solo goes right to the edge until Amy pulls him into a staggered, unison support groove while Wilson takes flight, achieving light speed almost instantly. But it’s not a chops-fest—Wilson keeps things elegant and playful while maintaining impressive athleticism. After Crawford’s brilliance on “Lonely Woman” comes my favorite track on the album: “Native Land” is magic, defying gravity, time, and space. And I expect a Phish “Reba” jam to erupt from its explorations at any moment! I recommend a second coffee before Side B—between the brilliant solos of “Amyable” and the versatility on display as Dupree Bolton shows his sensitive side during “You Don’t Know What Love Is,” by the time the needle hits the deadwax, you’ll have run the gamut of styles, emotions, and musicianship. A crown jewel on Pacific Jazz and the Tone Poet lineup—don’t miss it!
Joe Henderson ‘The Standard Joe’
Standard? Hardly. Not to obsess on the nomenclature, but a jazz novice looking at titles like The Amazing Bud Powell, The Magnificent Thad Jones, or The Remarkable Carmell Jones might see The Standard Joe Henderson and think, “Meh.” Skipping this double LP on Italy’s Red Records is a mistake, even if you own Joe Henderson’s other trio projects. **Especially** if you do. While Joe and drummer Al Foster are constants across all of the Henderson trio projects, hearing them with bassist Ron Carter (State of the Tenor Volumes 1 & 2 from 1985, now both Tone Poet vinyl editions), then bassist Charlie Haden (The Complete An Evening With from 1987, Red Records reissue from 2023), and finally bassist Rufus Reid here provides an opportunity to compare, contrast, and dig into the art of the trio—Joe Henderson style. And The Standard Joe is the sole studio outing of the bunch—a 1991 session with phenomenal takes of Henderson 60s Blue Note classics like “Inner Urge,” “In ‘n Out,” and the Kenny Dorham-penned “Blue Bossa.” The trio also tackles (surprise, surprise) standards like “Round Midnight,” “Body and Soul” (two takes), and “Take the A Train.” While it’s been available on CD for ages, it makes a complete appearance on vinyl here for the first time, and the sound, pressing, and packaging are flawless. Notably, while the two earlier projects were live and primed for experimentation, this studio project feels even more adventurous, with everyone sounding confident in pushing the structures of each tune around until they find the best groove. And though it’s the completion of Henderson’s trio projects, it sets the tone and lays the groundwork for Henderson’s 90s re-emergence and critical/commercial success stories on Verve. All hail the power trio! Also, in case you missed it, there’s a great article on bassist Rufus Reid that’s worth a read from
here:John Coltrane ‘A Love Supreme’
The attitude of gratitude that Coltrane channels on A Love Supreme is inspiring. It’s music that feels comfortable in not knowing but eager to find out. For an album that’s been endlessly analyzed and thoroughly discussed, it remains a delightful enigma—engaging, uplifting, and thought-provoking. Coltrane’s combination of urgency and serenity as he seeks to tap into whatever higher power one believes is in the universe and/or within us all is perpetually profound. The history and mystery of A Love Supreme is well documented elsewhere and worth exploring for the curious. There’s a FANTASTIC multi-part series by
that I highly recommend reading—part 1 can be found here:Still, without knowing a thing about it, even jazz newbies can sense powerful magic at work here. I’m not suggesting your copy will glow blue in the presence of Orcs (Record Store Day edition!), but A Love Supreme is just what the doctor ordered, no matter what ails you. Full disclosure: I struggled with it initially while getting up the jazz appreciation learning curve back in the day. My friend and co-worker Bruce suggested that I focus on the groove in “Part II: Resolution,” and, if it is connected, then come back to the beginning. Thank you, Bruce—that was helpful and broke the barrier. I’ve also found that over time, for all of the well-deserved accolades, GOAT status arguments, and critical acclaim, I love the album more when I stop trying to get to the bottom of it. That’s listening and looking in the wrong direction with A Love Supreme, which sucks the very life out of a record that celebrates it.
Art Pepper ‘Smack Up’
Smack Up is Art Pepper’s brilliant acknowledgment of his fellow jazz sax-men. It would be his second-to-last session for Contemporary before a dark 15-year stretch of incarceration, criminal activity, and bad decisions, exacerbated by substance abuse. But as that facet of Art Pepper is often a focus, let’s spotlight Pepper’s appreciation for other great music and musicians. Art had a specific, thematic aim and approach with Smack Up that differed from the variety of originals, standards, ballads, and blues that had been his small combo forte. With Smack Up, Art Pepper explored the depth, breadth, and brilliance of his fellow sax player’s compositional qualities, from hard-bop hero Harold Land (who composed the title track) to “new thing” revolutionaries like Ornette Coleman. His push for inclusiveness in an era when conservative/traditionalist jazzers pushed back against change showed courage and respect. His quote from the liner notes speaks volumes:
“The way a man walks, the way he talks, the timbre of his voice, the cadences of his speech, his little variations in phrasing a thought — all have so much to do with individuality. The same thing is true of a man’s playing in jazz... his tone, the way his sound moves, his feeling for time. That’s why jazz is consistently fascinating. You could ask six guys to play an identical solo, but when you heard the results, you’d hear six different solos.”
I love the sound on this Acoustic Sounds reissue. The original session captured by Roy DuNann and produced by Lester Koenig for Contemporary Records sounds excellent, and the new Kevin Gray cut does it proper justice. You can buy with confidence. Jack Sheldon-trumpet, Pete Jolly-piano, Jimmy Bond-bass, and Frank Butler-drums. The title track and Pepper’s original are killer one-two punches, but then, for me, it *REALLY* levels up. Excellently played varied and compelling compositions, and a great recording—a must for Art Pepper fans and highly recommended to everybody else.
The Roosevelt Wardell Trio
Vinyl shelf re-organization is an ongoing state of being at Jazz and Coffee HQ. One of the many facets of this hobby I enjoy is the seemingly endless variety of ways hobbyists arrange their collections. Most of us have seen—and resonate with—the famous scene in the 2000 film High Fidelity where John Cusack’s character organizes his records “autobiographically” rather than the tried ‘n true alphabetical, by label or genre.
I tend to go with a broadly alphabetical, “let me try and keep all the ‘W’ artists together’ and then if I get inspired, I’ll pick some nuanced sub-organization routine that puts the heavy hitters within easy reach but keeps the obscurities, unsung heroes, and underdogs deserving of more recognition from getting lost in the shuffle.” But my best efforts only go so far when a title slips a little too far back between two others, which is what happened here, so I’m pleased that I chose the ‘W’ cubes to straighten out—I’ve missed this burner of a piano trio record! It’s a “one and done” 1960 session from virtuoso pianist Roosevelt Wardell, who was plucked from a bar where he’d been playing/singing R&B by legendary jazz altoist Cannonball Adderley. Adderley provided A&R supervision and arranged for his associates Sam Jones (bass) and Louis Hayes (drums) to join Wardell in tackling three Wardell compositions and several standards, with excellent results. Wardell is a confident player—speedy and swinging, with the ability to convince you his piano is miles long with thousands of keys. While he challenges his rhythm section to keep up with him, Adderley chose the Jones/Hayes duo wisely—they invoke the groove, reminding Wardell that while it’s great to take a solo to the edge, it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing! That said, Wardell is often at his best when at his speediest—the ballads here are good but almost an afterthought. The uptempo tunes feel like he’s leading the rhythm section into battle; they’re going to take every hill, but they’re taking no prisoners. If high-octane piano trios are your bag, you’ll find much to love here.
So—how do **YOU** organize your collection? Asking for a friend. Sound off in the comments, please!
“I Don’t Do Impressions” —Don Rickles
Your loss, Don, as it seems like everyone else does. I ran across this rather incredible performance by the John Coltrane Quartet with Eric Dolphy, which sent me on a YouTube journey that was either the most or least productive 90 minutes of the weekend. Here’s a couple of highlights: