Thad Jones & Mel Lewis All My Yesterdays

THE THAD JONES/MEL LEWIS ORCHESTRA
All My Yesterdays: The Debut 1966 Recordings at the Village Vanguard
(2-CD + 87-page booklet; Resonance HCD-2023)

Thad Jones (tp, flh, arr, con); Jimmy Nottingham, Snooky Young*, Jimmy Owens, Bill Berry, Danny Stiles** (tp);
Bob Brookmeyer* (v-tb); Garnett Brown, Jack Rains, Tom McIntosh** (tb); Cliff Heather (b-tb);
Jerome Richardson, Jerry Dodgion (as, cl, f); Joe Farrell (ts, cl, f); Eddie Daniels (ts, cl);
Marv “Doc” Holliday*, Pepper Adams** (bar-s);
Hank Jones (p); Sam Herman (g, perc); Richard Davis (b); Mel Lewis (d).

Recorded on February 7*, and March 21**, 1966. Total time: 48:49/77:13

Like a lonely dinosaur, the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra has been appearing at the Village Vanguard for just over 50 years now. Basie, Ellington, Herman, and Kenton still roamed the world when it hatched, on the first Monday of February, 1966.

A good chunk of what was heard in the hallowed room that Monday and the one six weeks later is now available on CD, thanks, twice, to Resonance Records: once, because it's the label which has put it out; twice because its chairman, George Klabin, was the 19-year old who recorded the band then and there.

The joy of zest (introducing the Lucky Chops)

Every once in a while the tired discussion on how to bring jazz to people, or make it "popular" reappears. When it does, I always think of these two quotes.

Years ago, singer, pianist and raccounteur Ben Sidran asked Art Blakey to describe jazz in one word, to which the master drummer replied: 

"Intensity. Intensity. Intensity. Even on the ballads."

Sometime in the early seventies, trombonist, pianist, composer and arranger Bob Brookmeyer, a serious guy with zero tolerance to nonsense, said this, as published by Downbeat magazine:

"Above all, you're supposed to have a good time with it. Otherwise you missed the whole point, and you can't do that."

Well, admittedly the music on the video below is not jazz (let's not go into pointless arguments just now), but besides being a grand example of how much fun music can be (and of the value of music as a social tool—the baritone player is obviously nuts, and here he is, being useful to society), I think it provides a good hint of the zest that would be most welcome in any kind of music, and especially in (some) jazz.

(Same video, on Facebook)

Happy festivities and a musical suggestion

Part of my friends and readers, those in the Southern hemisphere, are about to celebrate the Summer, not Winter, Solstice (you dirty rats!), and the end of the year it's just a convention, but be it because days grow shorter on this side of the world, or because most of us will be on a break from work, or for cultural reasons, this is a time for reflection or celebration. So do reflect, and whatever you celebrate, have a great one.

I wasn't really planning on recommending any music for this time of the year. Best-of-the-year lists abound, and there's all the Christmas-y stuff. It'd feel like choosing more candy on top of all the candy we're all being shoved down our throats. 

But then I came across the video about Bob Brookmeyer (see previous entry), and I suddenly heard Jack Teagarden. With strings. In a record I didn't have a clue about. It has Teagarden's voice and trombone, arrangements by Claus Ogerman, Brookmeyer, and Russ Case, and, surprisingly, the tunes are by Willard Robison, whose name is probably less known than some of his tunes, like "Old Folks" or "Cottage for Sale".

The record is Think Well of Me (Verve V6 8465 in stereo, V-8465 in mono) recorded and released in 1962. It was reissued as a limited edition on CD (Verve 314 557 101-2, from 1998, there are second-hand copies around), and it's also on Spotify. There are several uploads on YouTube, and I have compiled this playlist:

Jack Teagarden - Think Well of Me on YouTube

Have a great one, best wishes for 2014, and "see" you then.

Many more bars of Brookmeyer!

Yesterday I blogged about a favourite solo by a favourite musician, but I admit I gave short shrift to his musical accomplishments in my introduction.

After I posted around that entry, my worthy constituent and jazz-tango wizard Pablo Aslan pointed me towards this wonderful film, a very nice overview of Bob Brookmeyer's musical life.

This are the credits:

Montage created by Maria Schneider and Ryan Truesdell in honor of Bob Brookmeyer, for his memorial service at St. Peters Church, NYC, April 11, 2012.

Video edited by Marie Le Claire

All music composed and/or arranged by Bob Brookmeyer

Photos courtesy of: Michael Stephans, Jan Brookmeyer

This is the film.

Sixteen bars of Brookmeyer...

If you’re a regular reader of these pages, you may know that Bob Brookmeyer is one of my favourite musicians in any style or instrument. I love the way he seems to disguise his intelligence behind a gutsy, swinging style of playing the rather cumbersome valve trombone. As an arranger he has walked many paths and explored many routes, but he never disappoints. Not me, anyway.

A very good example of the diversity of his talents as an arranger and as a soloist is his arrangement of “Body and Soul” for Gerry Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band, and the contrast provided by his own 16-bar solo.

Although Brookmeyer was the driving force behind this band, here he only takes half a chorus. Where others drew arabesques on this ballad’s harmonic maze, Brookmeyer cuts through it with very little melodic variation and a very determined rhythmic delivery, with plenty of swing (as in syncopation in the first eight bars) and funk (on his second eight bars, ending his four-note motives on the downbeat, against a sort of rhumba background).

Since the solo is readily available to listen to, I won’t say more. Just that in an interview, asked about his influences he says that the first major influence, and almost the final one was Count Basie. Listening to this solo (starting in 2:37), I think it’s not difficult to imagine playing that solo on the piano.

More Brookmeyer here, and here.

RIP Bob Brookmeyer (1929-2011)

Bob Brookmeyer has died three days before his 82nd birthday. He was an absolute favourite of mine, possibly my favourite musician in all jazz. Why? Because I liked the way he swang, and his sound, and his arrangements, and his wit, and his intellect, which he applied to arrangements and to solos full of ideas and melody. The previous post mentioned a couple of tunes worth checking out with Stan Getz, "Rustic Hop", an original that will lift your spirit unless you're dead, and "Varsity Drag", where he begins his solo with a very simple phrase (first he plays a major third, then a minor third) that will swing your socks off.

There are already some voices wondering why he was not given more recognition. I'd say that, beyond jazz, because this music doesn't amount to much. Sad but true. But within jazz, and this is even sadder, possibly because his long career didn't fit any styles, those very rigid boxes critics and fans of this music, allegedly of a progressive and open-minded persuasion, have created and are so comfortable with.

I already wrote about Brookmeyer some time ago, and you'll find some interesting video footage there. Some years ago I spoke briefly to him, and he told me that Gloomy Sunday was his favourite among his own recordings, where he shared the arranging chores with some esteemed colleagues, such as Ralph Burns.

You can also tune in to Indian Public Radio's David Brent Johnson's Night Lights devoted to Brookmeyer for a nice selection of his work by David with a little help of yours truly. Even better is the NPR Jazz Profile on his 70th birthday, produced by Bill Kirchner.

Bye, Mr. Brookmeyer, and thanks for so many good moments.