Late

Haven't heard it, but this album has been available twice in a Japanese edition on compact disc ... with the original cover art. I'm assuming the remastering would be better. Here's a pricey copy.

I couldn't agree more. For such a relatively small city, what a delight. I can't wait to see (and hear) what next year's series brings. I have a ticket for Dave Douglas in May, and will probably have to pick up a ticket for Dave Liebman very soon.

"Go" was the only tune I recognized as well. It was a fine concert. That rhythm section is alive. That was my first exposure to Brian Blade, and his playing was an absolute joy. Not only does he have open ears — the way he was listening to Perez (perhaps moreso than to Pattitucci), playing with, then in the next second against, Perez's own rhythmic figures — but he plays every inch of those drums. Not a muscular drummer, say like Elvin Jones, but a dynamic drummer, say like ... Tony Williams. This band — it's so hard not to imagine when you listen to them — evokes, if not actually invokes, the spirit of Davis's 60's quintet more authentically than any other group I've heard, in the studio or live. If I were to offer any criticism — and I would hesitate to call it an actual "criticism" — it's that I wanted more from Wayne's tenor playing. But, note, I'm coming from the severe disadvantage of only really knowing Wayne's work up until about 1972. (32 years more to go!) It seemed to me that his tenor playing often favored long tones and short bursts of notes rather than any developed lines — which, of course, is perfectly allright, but it did make me wonder about his capacity to sustain extended ideas. It's probably not a fair comparison, but when you hear Sonny Rollins these days (a player roughly in the same age bracket), you still hear an athleticism in his playing — meaning, he can still tackle, and is still willing to tackle, any sort of line that might jump into his head. I didn't get that impression with Wayne's tenor playing, almost as if lung power, or simply age, might be prohibitive. Now, on the smaller horn, I had an entirely different impression. To me, when Wayne picked up the soprano, the intensity of the music seemed to take one giant step forward. Pattitucci started bobbing his head, Perez would lay into the keys, and Blade would drop those amazing (and wonderfully loud) bombs. I love Wayne's sound on tenor — up to this day — but for me his soprano playing (based only on last night, of course, and the previous admission of how far along I know his work) contains his most focused energy. This is a band that really seems to like each other, even embracing at the show's end. Wayne Shorter, when you stop and think about it, truly is a living legend for this music, and I'm glad, and appreciatvie, I had the chance — only having to drive 12 blocks! — to see and hear him perform live.

7:30 p.m. I'll be there too. (But in the balcony.) Saw Brad Mehldau just last night at The Shedd. That place, if I do say so, has great acoustics. Even Mehldau made mention of them.

And you'll particularly want the Julius Watkins and Gil Mellé sides.

Garth, Strange that you point that out — when listening to the album, I was thinking "Art Farmer's cookin'!" And then, when I made this post, I thought, "Jeez, I've never heard of Peter Urban." Yes, great version of "Nature Boy" on this one. I'm going to have to dig into those OJC's. Ka-ching.

Some artists just keep slipping under your radar. You see their names in the rack (or online), and then, you don't know why, you just pass them by. Until last week, Teddy Charles was an artist of such a fate for me. I always knew I should have some Charles in my collection, and now I'm glad I do! As it relates to my current fascination with the work of George Russell, I scooped up this one a few days ago: I generally avoid reissues on Collectables, but this one isn't so bad. The remastering is fine if not excellent, and the music ... is great! Just look at the (unique) line-up: Peter Urban: trumpet Gigi Gryce: alto saxophone J.R. Monterose: tenor saxophone George Barrow or Sol Schlinger: baritone saxophone Don Butterfield: tuba Teddy Charles: vibraharp Jimmy Raney: guitar Mal Waldron: piano Teddy Kotick: bass Joe Harris: drums I don't know why, but I often love recordings with bands that are 8-10 in size. Not authentic big bands with "sections," but groups with augmented frontlines and "rhythm" sections. At any rate, would like to hear what you all think of this one, as well as read any suggestions/recommendations for more Charles work. (I did a search before posting, and it looks like the MOMA concert on Fresh Sounds, with Bookers Ervin & Little, comes highly recommended, as does the as-of-yet-unissued-on-compact-disc Russian Music recording on United Artists.)

Might you be a contender? I've changed mine a few times but I've always gone back to my original avatar. OK, you caught me. My avatar's never changed from Newk recording The Bridge. Still, I'm wondering if anyone else, from Day One, has kept their same avatar? I promise I don't know any answers for any of my other questions!

OK, trivia questions in the spirit of this thread. 1. Who has never changed their avatar? 2. Who has never had an avatar? 3. Who has changed their avatar the most? I'm not saying I know the answers ... I don't.

This one? Don't have it, but dig that cover.

I came to Mariano almost exclusively through sideman appearances: his scorching solo work on Mingus's two Impulse! sessions, his lone horn appearance on Dear John C., and ensemble and solo appearances on both the Chaloff and Kenton Presents Mosaics. But, for whatever reasons, not until recently did I pick one of Mariano's own sessions as a leader. This one is one tasty recording, a quartet session with Mariano on both alto and tenor. The ghost of Bird must have made a stop that day at Rudy's studio, sat back, and laughed with admiration and respect for one of his disciples. The thing that seems to differentiate the playing here from other bop-inspired sessions of the era (from the likes of, say, Sonny Stitt) is that Mariano often puts that extra oomph into his lines. Even though he's using Bird's words, there's still a lot of meaning in how they get said. Nothing trailblazing going on here, but it's nevertheless an enjoyable slippers-and-coffee date from start to finish. What Mariano do you like/prefer? I know his music, especially during, and after, his marriage to Toshiko Akiyoshi looked toward different directions.

Brad, if you don't have it already, you'll want to look for The Artistry of Pepper. I think it's much more interesting than Tenors Head On (which isn't a bad record), and the frontline of Perkins and Pepper is a fresh one. Well recorded too.

Going to see (hear) Wayne in six days! I probably won't recognize any of the newer compositions, but if I do, I'll post here. The guys probably won't need water bottles here, though — the weather is just starting to warm up. A whopping 68 degrees today!

Red, As John already mentioned, this is a good place to pick up a lot of early Newk. (Not all, but most.) You not only get Johnson Prestige sessions (with Kenny Dorham in tow), but the Savoy session that yielded Rollins' first recorded composition ("Audobahn"). Rollins is in fine (if still developing) form throughout (on the tracks he's on, that is), and the disc itself has joyous bebop from start to finish — with notable appearances by Sonny Stitt and Cecil Payne. It's actually a disc that gets a lot of play over here. Highly recommended. Now ... Jazz Factory (or was it Definitive? -- same thing) actually put out two compilation discs (one recently, one a few years ago) of "complete" early Rollins, so you can actually go that route, too. I don't think they overlap, and, together, you'll get all the studio sideman appearances up to, I think, 1951: the Gonzales, Johnson, Powell, and Davis sessions, along with Newk's first for Prestige. I haven't actually heard these discs, so I can't comment too much otherwise. You will certainly want to explore the grey market recordings from 1959-1968. Some of Rollins' most brilliant, if at times erratic, playing. There are still concert recordings from this period that are lingering in private collections, and a 30 minute documentary as well. I wish, somehow, that Rolllins estate, or someone connected with Rolllins — in positive business fashion — would collect these concert recordings into one organized box set ... especially while the man is still alive, and might benefit from sales.

I believe this is how my parcel was shipped. (Took ten days.) Overall, no complaints, but it would be nice, I guess, to know what options exist. What is SAL?

Did you have to ask Hiroshi if you could pay in U.S. dollars?

I paid in yen for my last Tanno transaction, PayPal tacked on "their" conversion rate, and the order total was still $39 less than if I'd ordered from, say, Dusty Groove. Does Hiroshi actually offer shipping options?

Aw heck, they aren't so bad. Now, the rats in the Funny Cat thread, that's something entirely different ...

Amen to that. Personal discovery will always be integral to any kind of discovery process, but it never hurts to be aware of, in some way or another, commonly acknowledged landmarks of a creative art. Besides, we're just responding to the initial post, right?

It's on slate for the (U.S.) RVG rodeo, and it sounds great. (The JRVG of Black Fire sounds great, that is.) Judgment sounds even better (to me), and Smokestack has been wildly improved over the last (Larry Walsh) remaster. I couldn't wait for the U.S. pressings, and dropped some yen-dough into Mr. Tanno's pockets.

I seem to recall that Cuscuna was mulling (positively) over Where is Brooklyn?. I think Compulsion is a good call, too (though I'd personally opt for Andrew!!! or Involution first). I also wouldn't be surprised to see Gerry Mulligan's Complete California Concerts, using the recent Japanese re(Mc)masters, come out as a two-fer. Natural Essence, plus one track from The Train Wreck (so that TOCJ owners would have to re-purchase)?

Without George Russell, there likely wouldn't be Kind of Blue as we know it. And — not that we'd expect otherwise from Ken Burns — Russell's omission from Burns' "Jazz" (along with at least Sun Ra and Lennie Tristano) was one of the most glaring omissions from a documentary that wanted to be at least quasi-comprehensive. In that spirit, I'd say that this album is an authentic "cornerstone" of improvised music: Recorded March 31, October 17, and December 21, 1956 The U.S. Koch (pictured above) and BMG France reissues both sound excellent. The BMG France reissue, however, uses the original, unaltered cover art. Here's Nate Dorward's review of this album: George Russell, like Gil Evans, had established a reputation as a brilliantly innovative thinker & arranger in the 1940s and early 1950s without more than a handful of his compositions being recorded — he'd contributed work to dates by Buddy DeFranco, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, &c, but this 1956 recording marks his first date as a leader. Except for a tuned-percussion solo on "Fellow Delegates", he doesn't play on this disc: the piano chair is held by a young Bill Evans, in what counts as his first major outing on disc. The recording would simply be notable for this fact: but it's in any case a major document. The rest of the band is Hal McKusick on alto & flute, Art Farmer on trumpet, Barry Galbraith (a Russell stalwart) on guitar, & a shifting rhythm section which on several tracks features a young Paul Motian. It's still an astonishing disc. Russell's most celebrated innovations concern concepts of jazz harmony and melody--the "Lydian Chromatic Concept of Tonal Organization", a cumbrous name for an elegant & enlightening systematization of music theory which was a direct inspiration for the "modal jazz" of Russell's friend Miles Davis. But less recognized has been Russell's rhythmic innovations, which date back to "Cubano-Be/Cubano-Bop"--check out the bewildering introduction to "Ye Hypocrite, Ye Beelzebub" here, for instance. There's simply nothing else in the period like the extremely intricate polyphonies of Russell's arrangements. Russell was later to follow a similar path to Gil Evans, both in performing as a pianist with his bands despite playing what's often called "arranger's piano", & also more generally in loosening his arrangements to emphasize soloing rather than intricate part-writing. But this album remains the epitome of his early style, along with "All About Rosie" (on the now-out-of-print Birth of the Third Stream compilation) & the furiously intricate "Lydian M-1" (on Teddy Charles' Teddy Charles Tentet album). This album has Russell's first recording under his own name of "Ezz-Thetic", his only composition to become something of a standard (it's an extremely difficult contrafact on the chords to "Love for Sale"). Its centrepiece, though, is the "Concerto for Billy the Kid", a very fast tune (again, written on top of a standard--this time "I Remember April") which after a densely-woven introduction is turned over to Bill Evans. One of the most welcome things about this reissue is the inclusion of an alternate take of this track (recorded a month after the first take) with a different rhythm section. Both versions are masterful. This is one of the essential jazz recordings of the 1950s.

John William Coltrane

I first heard Silent Tongues when I was 16, and, for me, it still remains the most essential Taylor recording to have in a collection. There are other solo performances that probably equal, or even surpass, this particular document's musical accomplishments, but I think, in some ways, that they often all point back to this one album. To be sure, I haven't heard everything (far from it!) that Taylor's recorded, and I readily admit that I tend to concentrate on revisiting familiar Taylor records rather than searching out new ones — thus, some large gaps in my Taylor collection. That said, here's what tops my list of "essential" Taylor: • Jazz Advance — Look for the Japanese RVG of this album. Malcolm Addey remastered the domestic edition (and it sounds fine), but Rudy seems to have spun some gold here. I think it can be had, right now, for under $20 at Red Trumpet. Remastering and price aside, I adore this album, and have always thought it to be the most ground-breaking debut in the history of recorded improvised music. A grand claim, but the music backs it up! No one, in my opinion, would have, or even could have, played "Bemsha Swing" like that. Hard to imagine it's 1955 here, but perhaps it's not so hard when one considers the advances that had already played out in "classical" music by this time. Essential, both historically and (hoorah!) musically. • The Candid Recordings — I actually prefer the remastering on the Mosaic as opposed to the newer remasters made available just a few years ago. But never mind that; this music is vital. There's so much of it to describe, and everyone has their favorite "highlight reel" from this era — as well as opinions on the merits of the sidemen performances (e.g. I'm not so fond of Archie Shepp's contributions, but always like what Lacy has to say) — so I'd just say jump in where and when you can. Of all the Mosaic's that I wish could stay in-print indefinitely, this would be numero uno. • Live at the Café Montmartre on Debut — Or, as I think it's alternatively titled, Nefertiti, the Beautiful Has Come or Trance. The package with the original title that I've listed here is the 2-disc Japanese edition (TKCB 71261) with original cover art. Gorgeous, both sonically and musically. To me, this is the turning point in Taylor's music (at least what I know of it). The doors are at last open, and he's playing what he hears — without the fetters of current musical convention. Jimmy Lyons and "Arthur Murray" (as he's listed here) already have a good sense of what Taylor wants out of a performance, and they respond with some inspired playing. One note: the original tracks for this LP set come out of the speakers with unusual clarity for a live performance; the alternate tracks, however, seem to have come from a different source, and are considerably muddier. (Still, never mind that in light of the music.) • The New World Recordings — The Cecil Taylor Unit and 3 Phasis. Perhaps Taylor's finest band? I don't know his recordings well enough to make that call, but these records, despite their often violent sense of drama, are actually quite musical. They still take considerable endurance to "hear" all the way through, but there's so much to go back to, and to re-discover. Pick these up, spend some quality time with them, and you may actually not have to purchase any Taylor recordings for a while. (What? Blasphemy!) • For Olim — Maybe Taylor's most (choose your favorite adjective: [A] sensitive, emotional, [C] tender) recording? Well, at least it is from those that I own. Not that there's not the usual Taylor fire, but his approach seems more considered here, more reflective. • The Willisau Concert — I would list this solo recording (and, again, the standard disclaimer — I haven't heard that many solo performances) as one that most successfully reaches past the "standards" set by Silent Tongues. When I hear it, I'm tempted into "true master" remarks. Well, that's probably enough! While I'm certainly a fan of Taylor's music, I do want to say that I don't often play the albums I own. Their intensity usually demands that I somehow be "ready" for them, and sometimes this means months in between "Taylor Listening Sessions." But, when the time's right, almost nothing's better. I'd also want to say that I sometimes find a sameness in his solos — a certain recycling of ideas and tendencies that, no matter how much they're modified or altered, make me question just how vast Taylor's musical palette really is. That's a vague statement, to be sure, but perhaps some other Taylor listeners could weigh in — concurring with, or disputing that claim.

I think you're looking for this one. It's a winner.