Showing posts with label Flip Phillips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flip Phillips. Show all posts

Monday, April 3, 2017

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.



Saturday, June 25, 2016

Benny Goodman Live on the West Coast, 1960

During my recent trip to Europe, I rediscovered an album that I'd long forgotten—the outstanding Benny Goodman Swings Again, perhaps one of the least discussed entries in the prolific Benny Goodman discography. Early in 1960, the King of Swing put together a swinging new band for touring purposes. The ten-piece outfit included magnificent musicians such as vibraphonist Red Norvo, tenorist Flip Phillips, altoist Jerry Dodgion, trombonist Murray McEachern, trumpeter Jack Sheldon, pianist Russ Freeman, guitarist Jimmy Wyble, bassist Red Wooten, and drummer John Markham. This was essentially an augmented lineup of the Norvo-led quintet that a few months before had accompanied Frank Sinatra at a concert in Melborne that Blue Note released in the '90s under the title of Frank Sinatra Live in Australia 1959. The Goodman album was released by Columbia and was recorded live at Ciro's in Hollywood and Harrah's in Lake Tahoe, which explains its subtitle, "Recorded Live on the West Coast." It features exciting new readings of Goodman classics such as "Air Mail Special," "Slipped Disc," "I Want to Be Happy," and "After You've Gone" and captures the fresh sound of this tightly knit band in a live setting, the updated arrangements leaving plenty of room for solos not only by the leader but also by Norvo, Phillips, Sheldon, and the rest of the sidemen, all of whom get several chances to showcase their talents.


Benny Goodman, 1960s (Photo: Herb Snitzer)
Goodman is undeniably in top form and even vocalizes—and forgets the lyrics!—on "Gotta Be This or That," a number that he always enjoyed singing. The only ballad on the set list, Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart's "Where or When," is actually one of the highlights, an opportunity for Goodman to show his tender side amid so much swinging uptempo material. Though the clarinetist's contempt for and dislike of vocalists was no secret, he features the lesser-known singer Maria Marshall on two selections, "Waiting for the Robert E. Lee" and "Bill Bailey Won't You Please Come Home," both of which she delivers in a style clearly reminiscent of Judy Garland. A rather obscure vocalist, Marshall also worked with the likes of Chubby Jackson and one Frank DuBois, though I admit the two numbers on this LP are the only recordings by her I've ever heard. Judging by the cover, one of the selling points of the album was a new nine-and-a-half-minute rendition of "Sing Sing Sing (With a Swing)," and although this 1960 arrangement is no match for the classic 1938 Carnegie Hall version, it's still an engaging, spirited performance. Critic Gene Knight, who attended one of these concerts, enthusiastically described Goodman's gig in the New York Journal-American as "an electric shock, administered musically . . . all the old favorites became new favorites again . . . there were shouts, cheers; customers stood up and applauded wildly . . . last night, as always, Benny was BIG!" And Benny Goodman Swings Again fortunately preserves on tape some of the excitement created by this early '60s Goodman outfit for our listening pleasure—alas, my sole complaint is that it only features nine tracks!



Monday, April 4, 2016

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.