Charlie Parker Jams on Verve, 1952

While certain critics consider that producer Norman Granz was responsible for encouraging Charlie Parker to veer away from bebop somewhat and venture into more commercial territory, there's no doubt that Granz also helped widen Bird's horizons. It would be enough to mention the classic album Charlie Parker with Strings, in which Parker is paired with a string section to create a masterpiece that has stood the test of time and that would later be imitated by countless jazz soloists. But the producer influenced the career of the saxophonist in other ways, as well. Granz was very involved in the production and promotion of live jazz gatherings known as Jazz at the Philharmonic (JATP), all-star groups of jazz musicians who interacted in a jam-session format and who toured both the U.S. and overseas. Many of these live concerts have been preserved on tape thanks to Granz's foresight, and the producer also organized similar studio sessions with an eye to releasing them commercially. One of these, cut in July 1952, involved Parker, who was joined by a stellar cast that included Benny Carter and Johnny Hodges on alto sax, Ben Webster and Flip Phillips on tenor, Charlie Shavers on trumpet, Oscar Peterson on piano, Barney Kessel on guitar, Ray Brown on bass, and J.C. Heard on drums.

Jazz producer Norman Granz

It's well known that all-star dates can be hit or miss, but from the very first bars it seems clear that this one is most definitely a winner. The length of the four cuts recorded (all of them over 13 minutes each) affords plenty of room for each soloist to show off his undeniable talents, and nobody gets in the way of anyone else. The result is a classic jam session that keeps surprising new listeners several decades after its original release. The meeting of these jazz greats is bookended by two bluesy compositions, "Jam Blues" and "Funky Blues," which work perfectly as vehicles for each participant to explore familiar musical territory in a succession of imaginative solos that allow us to experience different approaches to the blues idiom. Cole Porter's "What Is This Thing Called Love," introduced by an energetic piano solo by Peterson, is taken at a breakneck tempo and serves as an excuse for some inspired blowing by everyone. Finally, the cut simply entitled "Ballad Medley" presents the group at its mellowest and most intimate, as they tastefully run through a selection of slow standards by Jerome Kern, Matt Dennis, George Gershwin, Richard Rodgers, and others. Throughout the whole session there's that kind of electricity created by a group of excellent musicians who feel comfortable playing together and who constantly spur each other on to achieve new heights with every new solo. The album has been issued on CD as Charlie Parker Jam Session, and its contents are also available as part of the five-disc set The Complete Norman Granz Jam Sessions, which also presents other similar jams produced by Granz in the same time period. While there are other Bird recordings that one should listen to first, in my opinion this remains one of the most satisfying dates of his remarkable career.

Lyle Ritz and Ukulele Jazz

Sure, the ukulele was widely used in the 1920s by vocalists like Cliff "Ukulele Ike" Edwards and Johnny Marvin to accompany their own singing, and some of them, like Edwards and Marvin, were very proficient on the little instrument. Yet it was Lyle Ritz that brought the ukulele into modern jazz in the 1950s, in particular on How About Uke?, a Verve album recorded over two different sessions in September 1957. Cleveland-born Ritz began playing the ukulele while in college in California, but despite cutting two albums on that instrument in the '50s, he actually garnered a strong reputation as a session musician in the '60s and '70s, appearing on bass on countless pop records with the likes of the Beach Boys, the Monkees, and Herb Alpert, to name but three examples. Being a member of the famous Wrecking Crew helped him pay his bills, but his first love was the ukulele. He never quit playing it, and over the years he built a steady following in Hawaii, which would lead to a sort of revival of interest in his ukulele music in the '80s and '90s, when he began appearing at festivals and making occasional records.

Lyle Ritz (right) with Ray Charles

It was guitarist Barney Kessel that brought Ritz to the attention of Verve Records, and How About Uke? was Ritz's first album for the label (the other one he cut, 1959's 50th State Jazz, is also worth looking up). The ukulele ace is accompanied here by Don Shelton on flute, Red Mitchell on bass, and Gene Estes on drums. Though Shelton takes several flute solos, the spotlight is on Ritz, and that's perhaps why the instrumentation is so sparse and the lineup features no brass instruments. Among the 13 tracks on the album there are only two Ritz originals ("Ritz Cracker" and "Sweet Joan"), the rest being tried-and-true standards like "Don't Get Around Much Anymore," "I'm Beginning to See the Light," "Sunday," and "How About You?" (of course, the title of the LP makes reference to the latter). On the sprightly reading of "Solamente Una Vez (You Belong to My Heart)" and "Tangerine," the quartet goes into Latin territory, and they're equally effective on ballads such as "Moonlight in Vermont" and "Little Girl Blue." Whether Ritz is playing chords behind Shelton's flute or improvising on the melody himself, his technique is so polished that he proves the ukulele can be a viable instrument to play jazz. In fact, Ritz's playing is so compelling that it's easy to forget that we're listening to a ukulele and not a guitar. Unfortunately, neither one of his two Verve outings (both have been reissued on CD by the Fresh Sound label) made any impact outside of Hawaii at the time. Even so, almost 60 years after they were recorded, these sessions have definitely stood the test of time and should be approached as something more than mere novelty items.

Fred Astaire & Oscar Peterson, 1952

Few, if anybody, would disagree that Fred Astaire was one of the foremost dancers of the 20th century. But was he a jazz singer? Apparently, Astaire himself would laugh at the thought. He considered himself, as did most of his audiences, primarily a dancer and often derided his own abilities as a vocalist. Songwriters knew better, though, and recognized in his voice the perfect vehicle for their compositions. To be sure, his range was limited, but whatever he lacked in that department he more than made up for in phrasing and style. His singing is characterized by a rare elegance that is perfectly suited for the urbane melodies and witty lyrics of the songs of Irving Berlin, Cole Porter, and George and Ira Gershwin, among others. No wonder, then, that he introduced a large amount of tunes by these composers that have become standards, titles such as "Let's Face the Music and Dance," "Night and Day," and "Fascinatin' Rhythm," to name but a few. And these were songs that helped put the great in the Great American Songbook.

Although he claimed not to take himself seriously as a vocalist, Astaire loved jazz and jazz musicians, which is hardly surprising, since there is quite a bit of a jazz element in his tap dancing. And he actually had a particularly soft spot for a record project that he did for Verve at the request of label owner Norman Granz, entitled The Astaire Story. In his autobiography, Steps in Time, Astaire recalls these sessions with a mixture of delight and admiration for the musicians with whom he worked: "I found this [album] a most interesting and enjoyable job as Oscar Peterson, Alvin Stoller, Flip Phillips, Charles Shavers, Barney Kessel, Ray Brown and I cut these discs spontaneously on the spot without any prearranged orchestrations. This album, called The Astaire Story, with limited printings, became prominent in the collectors' item category" (301).

Oscar Peterson at the piano

Yet, much more than a mere collector's item, The Astaire Story is a very revealing portrait of Astaire the jazz singer, a relaxed crooner who instinctively plays with the beat and whose phrasing is so casual that at times it almost sounds as though he were reciting the lyrics. The program is made up almost entirely of songs associated with Astaire, and the LP format allows for lengthier arrangements of the tunes, punctuated by lovely solos from Peterson on piano, Shavers on trumpet, Phillips on tenor sax, and Kessel on guitar. Astaire is clearly enjoying himself on these dates, and he sounds as much at ease with Peterson's group as Bing Crosby does on Bing with a Beat accompanied by Bob Scobey (by the way, it's really too bad that nobody ever thought to pair up Der Bingle with Peterson). The result of the Astaire-Peterson sessions, which were held in Los Angeles in December 1952, is what Will Friedwald has called the climax of Astaire's recorded legacy, among the most spontaneous music that either man ever committed to wax, a classic set that offers a definitive glimpse of Astaire having fun and singing jazz in very good company.

Stuff Smith and Oscar Peterson, 1957

Though perhaps he may not be as well remembered today as fellow violinists Joe Venuti and Stéphane Grappelli, the great Stuff Smith is one of the most exciting jazzmen to ever pick up a violin. Born in Portsmouth, Ohio, in 1909, Smith was playing the instrument by age 9 in a band led by his father. In the 1920s he joined the Alphonse Trent orchestra, a territory band that operated mostly in the Texas area, and by the advent of the Swing Era, Smith had moved to New York City, where he became extremely popular with the crowds that gathered at the Onyx Club, mostly made up of musicians. His flawless sense of swing, which he claimed to have learned from none other than Louis Armstrong, soon made him one of the foremost swing violinists, and he was among the very first jazzmen to play electric violin. Smith made his first recordings around 1928, and several of them (particularly "I'Se a-Muggin'," which also features his own infectious vocals) became popular, but he didn't actually record too many albums as a leader. One of his most memorable LPs was cut in 1957 and reissued on CD a few years ago as Stuff Smith & Oscar Peterson (Poll Winners) with three extra tracks added to the six on the original album.

The quartet that accompanies Smith on the two sessions that were needed to complete the album (held in Los Angeles in March 1957) is stellar: Oscar Peterson on piano, Barney Kessel on guitar, Ray Brown on bass, and Alvin Stoller on drums. Everyone involved seems to be at ease, with all participants trading excellent solos, although Smith, Peterson, and Kessel are featured more prominently than the rest. In fact, Smith and Kessel interact seamlessly throughout both sessions, as we can clearly hear on "Soft Winds." Popular standards such as "It Don't Mean a Thing," "I Know That You Know," and "Heat Wave" are perfect vehicles to showcase Smith's virtuosity on the violin, always ably supported by Kessel, Peterson, and the rhythm section. On Duke Ellington's "Things Ain't What They Used to Be," Smith proves that his style is deeply rooted in the blues, and "In a Mellow Tone" offers a good opportunity for everyone to turn in highly inspired solos. Although Smith is known for his swinging style, the extended version of "Body and Soul" shows that he can also be sensitive and inspiring when it comes to ballads. There are even two Smith originals, "Desert Sands" and "Time and Again," that remind us that he was also very talented as a composer. This very recommendable CD also includes two tunes  ("Calypso" and "I Wrote My Song") from a February 1957 date that finds Smith in a similar mood in the company of pianist Carl Perkins, bassist Red Callender, and drummer Oscar Bradley. Writing in Down Beat about this album in 1957, critic Leonard Feather said that "there is no human being on earth or in heaven who can outswing Stuff Smith." Anyone who listens to these wonderful recordings will undoubtedly agree.