Billy Taylor and Quincy Jones's Jazzy Take on My Fair Lady, 1957

Though perhaps he isn't as well remembered today as his achievements deserve, the career of North Carolina piano man Billy Taylor was full of milestones: in the 1950s he worked as house pianist at New York's Birdland; in the 1960s he became the first black musical director of a major network television program, on the popular David Frost Show; and in the 1970s, he earned a doctorate in music from the University of Massachusetts. Taylor was also very involved in spreading the good news about jazz on the radio and on television, but he always found time to play live and enter the studio regularly for over fifty years, recording a respectable amount of albums for labels such as Prestige, Savoy, Impulse, and Capitol, among others. Born in Greenville in 1921, Taylor moved to NYC in the early 1940s playing and sometimes recording alongside great jazzmen like Slam Stewart, Ben Webster, and violinists Stuff Smith and Eddie South. While working at Birdland, he formed his first trio, the setting in which he felt most comfortable throughout his career, and cut his first of many records as a leader. Taylor passed away in New York in 2010 at age 89, leaving behind a solid musical legacy that's in need of rediscovery.

Those who have criticized Taylor for not being innovative enough should listen closely to what I consider to be his best album—My Fair Lady Loves Jazz, recorded for Impulse in NYC over the course of three separate sessions in January and February 1957. This was at a time when the successful show by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe had been running on Broadway for about a year, and in fact, there was even a release party for the LP that was attended by most of the theatrical cast. Taylor's trio features bassist Earl May and drummer Ed Thigpen, but it's augmented for this project by several excellent horn players like trumpeter Ernie Royal, baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, altoist Tony Ortega, and trombonist Jimmy Cleveland, to mention just four. The horns, arranged by none other than Quincy Jones, are a perfect complement for the elegant sound of Taylor's trio, which they enrich greatly. This is evident from the very first bars of the opening track, "Show Me," which also features Royal on trumpet prominently, and the rest of selections always leave room for solos by Taylor and his guests—Ortega shines on the ballad "I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face" and Cleveland contributes a fine solo to the bouncy "Get Me to the Church on Time," for instance. Jones's charts underscore the jazz elements of great tunes like "I Could Have Danced All Night" and "On the Street Where You Live" without straying too far away from the melodies, and Taylor obviously feels extremely comfortable in the company of May and Thigpen, for whom he only has words of praise in the liner notes. The result is classic, boppish Taylor, a thoroughly satisfying album that serves as the perfect introduction to his music. Other jazz treatments of My Fair Lady, like those by Shelly Manne (for Contemporary, 1956, with André Prévin and Leroy Vinnegar) and Chet Baker (his 1959 Lerner & Loewe songbook for Riverside), may be better known, but Taylor's approach to that memorable musical is one of the most interesting ever recorded.

Billy Eckstine & Quincy Jones at Basin Street East, 1961

One of the smoothest and most successful jazz and pop vocalists of the 1940s and '50s, Billy Eckstine was also one of the most forward-thinking, as we can infer from the lineup of his famous orchestra of the mid-'40s, which included soon-to-be famous jazzmen such as Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Dexter Gordon, and Art Blakey, among many others. Not only was Mr. B a fantastic vocalist, but he was also an intelligent man who made his mark socially and politically. As critic Will Friedwald has noted in his Biographical Guide, "before Louis Armstrong or Nat King Cole dared sing anything other than the blues or novelties, Billy Eckstine was among the first to show the world that the black man could be intellectual, passionate, sensitive, literate, articulate, proud—and profound." Indeed, Eckstine was all this, but most of all, he was profound: his voice was rich and deep, and he imbued everything he sang with a depth that very few singers in jazz, pop, or any other style could even dream of achieving. He felt at ease singing different types of music, but he excelled at the art of the ballad, particularly that of the intimate, emotionally deep variety, like his big 1947 hit, "Everything I Have Is Yours." No wonder that his female fans—black and white alike, in a time of open segregation, no less—went wild over him. He was simply just that deep, that emotional, that attractive.

Producer and arranger Quincy Jones.

By October 1961, when he was recorded live at Basin Street East in New York City, Eckstine's hit-making days were pretty much over, yet he was still at his peak vocally. For this engagement at the legendary club, Mr. B assembled a fantastic orchestra including great musicians such as trumpeter Joe Newman, trombonists Curtis Fuller and Melba Liston, and altoist Phil Woods. With Quincy Jones at the helm and taking care of the arrangements, the results couldn't be anything but outstanding. The album kicks off with a spirited R&B-inflected reading of "All Right, Okay, You Win" that makes it instantly clear that Eckstine still has it and that the listener is in for a real treat. After jokingly describing himself as "the Fabian of the forties," Eckstine goes into a lovely medley of three ballads ("I'm Falling for You," "Fool That I Am," and the classic "Everything I Have Is Yours") that show his mastery of the romantic ballad to great effect. Cole Porter's "In the Still of the Night" is infused with a tasteful Latin beat that suits Eckstine's style perfectly. Next comes one of the highlights of the album—a medley of four Duke Ellington standards that work very well together and that Mr. B performs effortlessly, apparently in front of Ellington himself, who was in the audience on that particular night. Eckstine then moves into more contemporary territory, and his interpretation of Nat Adderley's "Work Song" is surprising for its gospel undertones. The album closes with a fun, swinging rendition of the Con Conrad novelty "Ma (She's Making Eyes at Me)" that once again indicates Eckstine's versatility. Released on Mercury as Billy Eckstine & Quincy Jones at Basin Street East, this is one of Eckstine's best live records, and my only complaint about it is that it's entirely too short.

Drummer Man: Gene Krupa on Verve, 1956

More than merely a jazz drummer, Chicago-born Gene Krupa was a drumming showman, one of the first swing musicians to bring attention to his instrument as a vehicle for exciting, bombastic solos. Krupa's big band, which featured a host of outstanding soloists, was one of the most powerful of the Swing Era, and he was possibly the first drummer in jazz history to rise to major stardom. But by the time he formed his first big band in the late 1930s, Krupa had been around for quite a while, as a studio musician in the 1920s and '30s and as a noted member of the Benny Goodman orchestra. In his book Really the Blues, Mezz Mezzrow talks at length about the early years of Krupa's career, and while with Goodman, the drummer also participated in recordings by the famous BG Trio and Quartet. His appearance at Goodman's epoch-making Carnegie Hall concert in 1938 was extremely successful—his high-octane drumming on "Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing)" during that concert was particularly memorable—and so he soon departed to form his own orchestra. Throughout the 1940s, Krupa had hit after hit with classics such as "Let Me Off Uptown," "Drum Boogie," the self-referential "Opus One," and "Thanks for the Boogie Ride," to name but a few, and his band was known for the quality of the sidemen, including Shorty Sherock, Sam Donahue, Don Fagerquist, Charlie Ventura, and most of all, trumpeter Roy Eldridge and vocalist Anita O'Day. The latter two brought even more colorful, exciting sounds to an already outstanding orchestra during their tenures with the band.

Anita O'Day and Roy Eldridge

It didn't help, though, that Krupa had to face a short jail sentence on drug charges in 1943, yet upon his release, he rebuilt his band and kept going until around 1951. This late-'40s orchestra occasionally featured arrangements by Gerry Mulligan and at times embraced the new sounds of bebop. The 1950s saw Krupa working in small-group settings and touring with Jazz at the Philharmonic packages, and towards the end of the decade, Hollywood produced a respectable movie about his life starring Sal Mineo, predictably titled The Gene Krupa Story. In 1956, Krupa cut a big band album for Verve entitled Drummer Man, fronting an orchestra full of great names, such as trombonists J.J. Johnson, Kai Winding, and Jimmy Cleveland, altoist Hal McKusick, tenorist Eddie Shu, pianist Dave McKenna, and guitarist Barry Galbraith. It was a reunion of sorts, since Roy Eldridge and Anita O'Day share the spotlight with the drummer, and the song list consists mostly of remakes of Krupa classics like "Let Me Off Uptown," "Rockin' Chair," "Opus One," "Drum Boogie," and "Boogie Blues." The arrangements are by Quincy Jones, and although perhaps there could be a little more room for Krupa to solo, the band sounds tightly knit, the solos are exciting, and everyone seems to be having a wonderful time. "Leave Us Leap" is a perfect example of Krupa's energetic drumming propelling the band forward, and on his own composition, "Wire Brush Stomp," the drummer picks up the brushes and never misses a beat. "That's What You Think" is the only slow number, with O'Day singing mostly wordless lines, and "After You've Gone" is an appropriate closing, a vehicle for the trumpet of Roy Eldridge, who is as exuberant as usual on these sessions. The liner notes call this "a happy album," and indeed it is! Krupa slowed down the pace in the 1960s due to several health problems and passed away in New York City in 1973, at age 64.

Coleman Hawkins Quartet: Today and Now, 1962

In his fan-club website, Swedish pianist Jan Lundgren recently reviewed one of Coleman Hawkins's late-career albums, the often underappreciated Today and Now (go here, then check out the 26 April 2016 entry). Says Lundgren, "It's a classic jazz recording which must surely rank as one of the best-sounding albums ever made. Today and Now is perhaps not the most obvious choice for many of Hawkins' fans, but it's definitely one of my all-time favorites. Everything on this disc sounds wonderfully good, and I wonder if I've ever heard a better sax sound on record. . . The music is generally on the soft side, which makes it the ideal record to sit back and relax to." Lundgren is definitely right on all counts: the sound of this album is crisp and clear, the song choices favor a slower, more relaxing mood over uptempo swingers, and yet, the record remains one of the least discussed and remembered in Hawkins's discography. By the time he cut these seven tracks at the Rudy Van Gelder studio in 1962, the Hawk had long been regarded as a jazz legend, one of the leaders of the stylistic transition from swing to bop, and was revered by anyone who ever picked up a saxophone. He was also pushing sixty, had developed a drinking problem, and the quality of his recorded output had become rather erratic. No matter, though—when he was in good form, Hawkins could still make the magic happen, particularly in a small-group setting. And on these two sessions, the Hawk sounds relaxed, engaged, and in complete command of the instrument.

Today and Now is one of Hawkins's three albums for Impulse (the other two are Desafinado and Wrapped Tight) and it was recorded over the course of two sessions in Englewood Cliffs, NJ, on September 9 and 11, 1962. These two dates find Hawkins on tenor saxophone in the company of Tommy Flanagan on piano, Major Holley on bass, and Eddie Locke on drums. It's an excellent quartet, but from the beginning it becomes clear that Hawkins is the main attraction. The repertoire is rather unusual, with a few swinging tracks thrown in among the ballads. The opener, the traditional tune "Go Lil' Liza," is a good excuse for Hawkins to improvise on the agreeable melody, with a couple of solos from Holley (played arco) and Flanagan, who is always classy and engaging. "Swingin' Scotch" is basically a series of variations on the Scottish air "Loch Lomond," and the old evergreen "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree" is taken at a pleasing light tempo by the quartet. In the Hawk's hands, the old-timer "Put On Your Old Grey Bonnet" becomes a soulful, bluesy affair, and the three remaining tracks (the ballads "Quintessence," "Don't Love Me," and "Love Song from Apache") are definitely the highlights of the album, even if "Apache" may seem like an unlikely choice at first. On all three, but particularly on Quincy Jones's "Quintessence" and the little-known "Don't Love Me," Hawkins sounds relaxed and introspective, with a breathiness of tone that is perfectly suited to the tunes. As on the rest of the album, the accompaniment by Flanagan, Holley, and Locke is superb. As Lundgren rightly points out, this album is a good choice for relaxation, and its overall high quality, I would add, makes it deserving of more praise and critical attention.

Ella Fitzgerald and Count Basie, July 1963

My friend and colleague, Dan Nappo, recently drove up to St. Louis and surprised me by bringing me back a copy of Ella and Basie!, a superb album that I heard quite a bit growing up but that, for some strange reason, never became a part of my jazz collection—until now. Dan's thoughtful gift has given me the chance to listen to it once again all these years later, which made me realize what a fantastic record it is, undoubtedly one of the high points in the long careers of both Ella Fitzgerald and Count Basie. The high-powered pairing of the vocal jazz diva and the perfectly oiled swing machine commanded by Basie was caught on tape by Verve Records owner, Norman Granz, over two sessions held in July 1963, and at that time, the band featured such outstanding musicians as trumpeter Joe Newman, trombonists Urbie Green and Benny Powell, reedmen Frank Foster and Frank Wess, drummer Sonny Payne, and trusty guitarist Freddie Green. As if that weren't enough, Quincy Jones was at the helm and provided all the charts, and from the outset, it became clear that the emphasis would be on solid swing rather than slow numbers. As a matter of fact, even the few ballads we find among the 12 selections on the original LP have a certain sexy bounce to them—"My Last Affair" is a good example of this—and on one, "Dream a Little Dream of Me," Basie contributes to the dreamy atmosphere by switching to organ.

Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, and Count Basie.

But we mustn't forget that this is a meeting between two giants of rhythm, and so the repertoire has been chosen accordingly. Ella had introduced "Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall" when she cut it for Decca with the Ink Spots in the mid 1940s, but this version with the Basie band is the polar opposite of the earlier recording, allowing Ella to swing freely, as she does on many other tracks, like "Tea for Two," "I'm Beginning to See the Light," and "Ain't Misbehavin'." Quincy Jones understood the Basie outfit perfectly, so his arrangements spotlight the amazing musicianship of the orchestra as a whole, and some of the numbers become vehicles for Ella's exciting scatting. That is the case of "Honeysuckle Rose," "Them There Eyes," and "Satin Doll," on which Ella's scatted contributions turn her into yet another soloist within the band. Both Duke Ellington's "Satin Doll" and Frank Foster's "Shiny Stockings" find Ella swinging at her most elegant and sophisticated, and "On the Sunny Side of the Street," with Ella's playful handling of the Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields tune, is a fitting finale for a marvelous album. The 1997 digipack CD reissue includes several takes of "My Last Affair" and "Robbins' Nest" (the latter not used on the album) which provide some insight into the recording process. Ella and Basie would meet again a number of times in subsequent years, but this first encounter remains the most satisfying.