Blue Note Records

Within my first two years of being in business I got two big introductions to Blue Note records. The first came when a guy named Bob came into the store. I immediately recognized him as a guy who used to work at Kingbee records on Evans near D.U. He then went on to work at Record Revival (later Jazz Record Revival) on Broadway. He was always a nice guy and had recommended a few albums to me over the years that I really liked. This day he was selling a handful of CDs. He pointed one out to me. “You ever heard this one?” He shook his hand like he was putting out a match. “Hot Stuff.” The CD was Cornbread by Lee Morgan. I took it home that night and played it. It was indeed a magnificent jazz album. Morgan had such a strong tone and melodic sense on trumpet, his band was red hot and the recording was really present and snapped with the tight arrangements.

The second event came when someone dropped a stack of free magazines at the store. It was a guide to independent record stores nationally. I thumbed through it and was surprised to see our store in there. I’ll never forget it. They said we were a good store with a lot of nice used stuff. Then the author explained how he had gotten a couple of rare Blue Note pressings for way less than they were worth out of our racks. I was stung. Not by the loss of revenue, but at the perceived lack of knowledge. It changed the way I approached my job. I thought, if I’m going to do this, I have to know at least as much as the average customer (a ridiculous thought-there is no average customer).  It gave me a kick in the ass to both really learn about label variations and to understand better what the mystique was with Blue Note.

It took a few years before we got to the point that we were buying large collections every day, but it did finally happen, and I started to see some Blue Notes come through the door. A regular character who bought a lot of jazz named Shelby passed away and his family sold his records and he had a handful of great titles. They were beat to shit, but I decided to take a couple home and try them out. I will never forget the sense of revelation I had when I put that first original Blue Note pressing on my turntable and the exciting sound recording mastery thundered out of the speakers. I had never heard a record sound so alive! And remember this record looked like hell. Once the needle fell into those grooves, the scuffs and grime disappeared and, like magic, it sounded like you were in the studio with a room full of great players. I would learn this was no fluke. Blue Note records were largely recorded by a man named Rudy Van Gelder in his home in New Jersey. A dentist by trade, he loved jazz and sound, and he combined those two passions to create an undying legacy. The first generation or two of Blue Note are unparalleled recordings. Van Gelder’s abilities, the musicians, the times, and the pressing technology-I’m not sure exactly what all the factors were, but nothing sounds like a Blue Note.

A number of Blue Note recordings became some of my favorite albums. One in particular blew my mind. Eddie Gale’s Ghetto Music is an incredible mix of jazz, funk, gospel and conscious soul unlike anything else. It is cosmic and earthy at the same time. It’s one of the records I’ve tried to turn people on to over the years. Finally, an original mono copy of Lee Morgan’s Cornbread came in to the store. I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited. I took it home that night and breathlessly put it on the box. I wish I had the words to convey exactly how amazing that first listen was. From the opening notes of Larry Ridley’s bass and that first blast of horns from Lee, Jackie McLean and Hank Mobley I couldn’t believe how present the music was. You could literally feel the room the album was recorded in. You could see where each player was in your mind’s eye. This was why I was collecting records. This exact feeling of presence-like you were there. I have played that record, I’ll bet, a thousand times. When people come over and want me to show off my stereo or collection, the night will always include Cornbread, usually with me holding the record up and saying “this is why we are still in business!” And I believe that. The specific magic contained in a well-pressed piece of vinyl is something that can not be undervalued. It is the medium through which the magic of music can best be expressed (short of live performance). After the many, many playings, Cornbread has lost none of that magic. The record still sounds amazing-no surface noise, just the pulse-quickening greatness of the original session. It is my go-to audiophile recording. Nothing sounds better to me.

The magic and mystery of Blue Note is well known in the collecting world. They are rare as hen’s teeth and highly sought after. Thus, the prices have become very “dear” as it were. Even so, if you see a nice one, and if you are excited by the art and science of recording, as well as great jazz-there is no more rewarding investment to be had in the record collecting world.

Here are some of my favorites.

Trane

My main things in terms of collecting live concerts and endless variations of the same song are improv and soloing. When it comes to studio albums it’s songwriting, performance and recording. However, there is no end to the number of versions of a given song I can listen to if the band involved can improvise meaningfully and the individuals can solo interestingly. In Jazz, the king daddy for me is John Coltrane. He proved himself a great player, arranger and soloist early in his career-especially during his time with Miles Davis’ groundbreaking band, but in the mid-60’s, his LPs on Impulse records contain THE most incendiary soloing and the headiest improvisation in modern jazz. I remember the first time I brought 1966’s Ascension home, it scared me to death. Trane’s ferocious soloing, able to drill down to hell or scream heavenward in 2 bars while his incredible band-including Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders, McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones on this album was right with him, the blood pressure to his heartbeat-many of them equally impressive soloists. I was terrified and thrilled to hear someone screaming through their instrument this way. I had heard Hendrix and other rockers do it, but it was often in a pretty conventional setting. Trane was reaching new space-finding music that had never been heard or even thought of before. The only way I can describe it, is when Coltrane is in full blow mode, I feel the need to be alone with the music-loud. It’s not music you can easily share with others. Like really dirty comedy records, you feel the need to close the door, roll up the windows and listen without judgement. Trane has plenty of more easily digested music, but the string of albums from about 62 until his death in 67 are unparalleled in their cosmic intensity. The search for original copies of most of Trane’s albums obsessed me for many years. I’ve got a bunch now, and they are some of my most prized LPs. Dig!

-Paul Epstein

 

I'd Love to Turn You On #240 - John Coltrane - Blue Train (1957)

Blue Train, the only record by John Coltrane on Blue Note records, came out in 1958. The personnel is an all-star lineup, with members from Miles Davis’s and Art Blakey’s bands. John Coltrane was a creative force, having just working with Miles Davis, and being in the process of working with Thelonious Monk while Blue Train was being recorded. He would go on to put out some of his most influential music, including the landmark record Giant Steps on the Atlantic label, shortly after recording Blue Train. This album consists of all original material with the exception of one standard, "I’m Old Fashioned." John’s Coltrane’s creative energy was on full display for this session, not only as a composer but as an improviser.

One of my favorite things about this record is the arrangements. The band is big enough to function as a multi-timbral ensemble, smaller than a big band and larger than a traditional trio or quartet. It displays a fullness and lushness in the arrangements, yet it is lean enough to let each of the members shine as soloists. Curtis Fuller adds not only sonic dimension on the trombone but crystal clear solo lines. Handling trumpet duties is Lee Morgan. He was propelled to fame with a series of hit records for Blue Note after this session. Both He and Fuller were playing with Art Blakey at the time. The rhythm section consists of Paul Chambers on bass and Philly Joe Jones, both of whom had played with Miles. Finally, on the keyboards Kenny Drew harmonically glues this talented band together.

"Blue Train" is the first track, and the opening melody is one of the things that will keep you coming back to this record. It is simple, catchy, and bluesy. After the melody is stated a couple of times Trane takes the first solo on the 12 bar blues. His impressive technique allows him to surprise us with unexpected turns of phrase. The choices he makes are inventive and innovative, and the energy he brings to each solo is impressive. As Trane ends his solo it provides a perfect simmering point for Morgan to come in a play it cool for a little bit. The sax has been playing super energetic jam-packed lines, so in contrast Lee Morgan starts his solo by playing some cool repeated note motifs. The ensemble supports in various ways. Philly Joe Jones energizes the soloists at times by switching to a double time feel, drawing them into denser rhythmic activity. In other places the horn ensemble unites to provide background textures as support for the soloists.

"Moment's Notice" is a cool midtempo swing tune. It starts out featuring the quartet of Coltrane, Chambers, Drew, and Philly Joe in a broken down version of the ensemble playing the initial statement of the melody. Philly Joe Jones’s hi-hat work is amazing - he compliments and punctuates the melody. The melody is eventually supported with the full ensemble using the horns as rhythmic and melodic thickeners. This tune could work as a quartet arrangement but this elaborate architecture is a treat for the ears. Eventually a harmonic pedal point is established and Trane begins his solo. Trane’s three choruses are packed full of ideas, already showing glimpses of how he would further develop his approach to harmony. He is incorporating massive amounts of material, working on developing his own language. Curtis Fuller’s choruses, perhaps some of his best on this record, are precise and technical, a model of post-bebop. Lee Morgan plays technical ideas but utilizes more repeated note motifs, bluesy bends, and wide interval leaps. It's more of a showy style, while still being hard bop.

"Locomotion" is a blistering call and answer between the trumpet and trombone with Coltrane playing shorter solo response phrases. It is a great example of how Coltrane’s musical energy can propel a rhythm section. With Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones, the rhythm can have a laid back feel at times, but with Coltrane taking a solo at this tempo listeners can definitely feel him leading this band with a musical dexterity and intensity that lives up to his legend as a larger than life performer. As Trane works his way through the first chorus you can feel the groove settle in. Curtis Fuller is next up, and I love the way his solo is introduced over an 8-bar drop out by everybody else. His use of sequence or recurring ideas similar ideas, such as the chord change, is a highlight of the solo. Lee Morgan once again dazzles with his proficiency. This solo highlights one of the great things about Lee Morgan's playing. Even in an uptempo tune while playing fast lines he can make certain notes pop and stand out. It really is a cool aspect of his playing, not only are the lines melodically working their way around the harmony but at the same time he is adding another dimension to the dynamics by attacking and easing off certain notes.

The ballad "I’m Old Fashioned" is next. In this thinner texture where Trane plays the melody, Paul Chambers' excellent bass work can be appreciated. As Curtis Fuller takes the first solo Philly Joe moves from ½ time to straight quarter notes on the ride cymbal providing a perfect solo bed for Fuller to work in. For Kenny Drew’s understated piano solo Philly Joe switches to just brushes on the snare. It is here that you can hear the synergy between the piano, bass, and drums, as they just relax in the groove. Morgan follows with a sultry solo, eventually resolving to the melody to end the tune. "Lazy Bird" finds Morgan introducing the melody after a brief introduction by Drew on piano. At the bridge horns play harmony hits before Morgan restates the melody. Morgan takes the first solo, navigating the song with his typical fleet-footedness. He is followed by Fuller, whose brief solo gives way to John Coltrane’s solo. Trane has a way of using variation within his improvisation that avoids direct repetition. He might use something close to a motif, but it will rarely be the exact thing twice. He also uses unexpected starting and stopping places along with dense phrases that make it hard to predict what he might attempt to play. His choice of using harmony that exists within the chord structures or incorporating outside harmonic tones belonging to his developing vocabulary was another factor in his growing sound. One of the joys of listening to him play is the unexpected nature of his performances.

I think this record is a must have for a Coltrane fan. It sits firmly as a marker between the Prestige recordings and the Impulse recordings. It has iconic cover art - a contemplative Coltrane with that classic blue filter over it - all the sidemen are playing out of their minds, and the songs are all very catchy. As far as Coltrane’s playing he is giving it everything he has. His tone is balanced and even, his ideas are focused and evolving, and his energy as a band leader produces a true classic.

-         Doug Anderson

I'd Love to Turn You On #161 - Sonny Sharrock - Ask The Ages

There is not much footage of Sonny Sharrock, but what exists is revealing. If you go to Youtube and watch Sonny “Live at The Knitting Factory from 1988” you get a pretty good idea what this amazing talent was like. He appears on stage, a middle-aged, slightly portly, jovial African-American gentleman cradling an electric guitar. His accompanists begin a throbbing, jazzy beat and Sonny smiles and closes his eyes. He isn’t particularly worried about playing a song, or structuring a solo. He is a bird standing on a branch, waiting for the right triangulation of bait, breeze and inspiration to lift him into flight. It happens and, eyes still closed, smile switching to a grimace of concentration, he takes off. Sonny Sharrock’s solos are not technical marvels, but rather highly emotional excursions into his psyche. He claimed that he never really wanted to play guitar, rather that he was a frustrated horn player chasing the elusive sound of his hero John Coltrane. This schism is evident in his playing as he voices solos that are fat and chordal in tone, but leap into wild single-note improvisational runs, much as Coltrane did, especially in his final period. Sonny had a long history of learning his style, starting in the 1960’s appearing on Pharoah Sanders Tauhid, and (legendarily) some uncredited playing on Miles Davis’ guitar feast Tribute To Jack Johnson, then joining Herbie Mann’s groundbreaking band for the latter’s strongest run of albums. He toiled in the jazz underground in the 70’s releasing several amazing, avant-garde records, but seemingly disappeared until bassist Bill Laswell tracked him down and mentored him out of obscurity and into the spotlight where his reputation as one of the most thrilling and unique voices in jazz increased until his untimely death from heart failure in 1994.

Sharrock’s sound and catalog are not easy to get your arms around. His early work on the Herbie Mann albums is hard to spot because of the nature of his solos. One has to train their ear to listen for him, because his early work tends to blend (self-consciously one would imagine) into the overall framework of the songs. By the time of his difficult to obtain 70’s solo work, he is fully immersed in avant-garde stylings and though those albums contain some of his best playing, sometimes the music was too extreme for many listeners. Once he came back in the 80’s he branched out in many directions (and on many labels) including some heavy metal style playing with the band Machine Gun. Like other enticing figures skirting the edges along jazz, rock, avant-garde, and free-form, Sonny Sharrock is like a rare orchid: sightings are seldom, but unforgettable.

This difficulty in stylistically pinning him down is what makes 1991’s Ask The Ages the essential way “in” to Sonny Sharrock. It is a beautiful, hypnotic, intense album that fulfills the promise of a guitar player who plays his guitar like Coltrane played his sax. Produced by Bill Laswell and Sonny himself, Ask The Ages reunites Sharrock with Pharoah Sanders and throws jazz greats Elvin Jones (another Coltrane alumnus) on drums and Charnett Moffett on bass into the mix. The results are completely thrilling as Sanders and Sharrock take turns soloing in a variety of sympathetic styles. Each of the 6 songs is a universe of complex rhythm and spectacular soloing to discover. Sanders fills the role of Coltrane well on some numbers like “Who Does She Hope To Be” but each song finds its center within Sonny Sharrock’s completely un-copyable style of guitar playing. Take the final number “Once Upon A Time” where he plays beautifully melodic single lines over his own crunchy power-chording. It is a thrilling exercise in musical freedom. It feels set loose from the bonds of genre, geography or financial concern as the musicians bravely explore the outside of modern music. This is something the label Axiom specialized in, and we can thank Bill Laswell for creating a place for Sonny Sharrock and many other groundbreaking musicians. Although it lasted less than a decade in its original incarnation, Axiom was one of the great labels of the modern era, and virtually everything they released is worth hearing.

It’s really hard to compare Sonny Sharrock to any other musician because of his utterly singular take on soloing, and his lack of adherence to any “school” of jazz thought. He brings to his music the same thrilling individuality and untrained freshness that Billie Holiday, Charlie Parker or even Keith Moon brought. The excitement of finding an artist so in love with their instrument and the idea of making music that even their lack of training will not stop them is one of the fundamental reasons I listen to music. It is the promise of human individuality and meaning given flesh.

-         Paul Epstein

What Are You Listening to Lately (Part 7)?

OK, I know I promised I'd get things back on track quickly and clearly I've failed in that, but at least it's because I've been too busy to make it happen in a timely fashion. See below for proof:









I've thrown in a couple extra reviews to make up for it. Sorry. See you in the new year, where I will most assuredly be very regular with my reviews.


Squeeze - East Side Story
Probably their finest hour, giving them the most room stylistically to test Difford and Tilbrook's songwriting skills in pop-soul, pop-rockabilly, or pop-country modes (oh yeah, and plain ol' pop music mode, too). Partly this is thanks to producer Elvis Costello, who's playing the overseer role here and probably encouraged D&T to work outside of their comfort zones. They're rewarded with a bunch of sparkling touches that light up the record in a way they never quite managed before or after - weird keyboards on "Heaven," Paul Carrack's famed white-soul vocal on "Tempted," backwards effects on "There's No Tomorrow," the entire menacing and relentless drive of "F-Hole," all of which serve to make this one really stand out. Add in the sequencing that Costello may or may not have pushed for, the fine melodic sense that D&T always had and their way with the small personal details that make their songs felt and you've pretty much pieced together the finest collection of Squeeze music that you could hope for. It's not just good songs, it's the album as a sum greater than its constituent pieces.

(Note: since writing this, I found out that the album is out of print on CD. We almost always have the vinyl in stock used though, and I recommend that experience over the CD, anyway.)


Al Green - Lay It Down
A good one. Individual tracks don't jump quite as much as even on I Can't Stop, but it's a palpable rebound from the perfectly-titled Everything's OK. Production by ?uestlove's (of The Roots) and his choices of players/guests is pretty choice too, - though someone so steeped in the mode of laid-back 70's groove that Al pioneered damn well better be able to replicate it well. So if it's not as perfect as the best Al Green/Willie Mitchell collaborations it'd be good to remember that they weren't infallible themselves and that even without Mitchell alongside him, Green's done some brilliant stuff on his own. So think of it less as ?uestlove's move to lead Green than Green's move to find a simpatico partner after his rekindled relationship with Mitchell stalled again and realize that he's put together a fine record backed by a cache of musicians who owe their careers to the style of R&B that he and Mitchell made a reality. And that with a few more songs that stood out as well as the title cut, this album could really be something that makes me hot to go find it when it's on the shelf instead of just enjoying it when it happens to find its way on around me. I hope this signifies the beginning of a good working relationship and, more importantly, a great songwriting team.


John Coltrane - Transition
Right out of the gate the title track lets you know it means business – things start intense and build from there over the track’s 15 ½ minutes into the screechy end of the tenor’s range, which I love but I understand turns some people off to this music. As with everything of this era of Trane’s classic quartet, these guys are totally in synch with each other – they’ve got a perfect understanding of where they – collectively – are moving with each piece. So if they come right out with “Transition” and knock you into a daze, “Welcome” will be a nice relief. They’re still taking things seriously, but they’re also taking them a little more slowly, giving some breathing room. Next up is the 21+ minute “Suite,” which moves through five segments that to me just sound like five solo sections, but then I’m not in charge of naming these things. I think it’s a fine slice of late quartet-dom, but not as programmatically strong as the suites he’d begin organizing later on this year of their development, even if the interplay is top-notch. But things get brighter in the close-out with “Vigil,” a superb duet between Trane and the mighty Elvin Jones that for close to 10 minutes simply burns – here is where the roles McCoy Tyner and Jimmy Garrison play in the band start to become undermined; probably not a conscious move on Trane’s part, simply a piece of the transition he speaks of as he moves from one thing to the next in his development.

(Please note that this review treats the CD as though it were how the album was originally released and/or intended, though I am well aware that it consists of tracks added to and/or omitted from the original posthumous issue. But the recording sessions are close enough to each other that they can be considered very closely related and the sequencing of the CD is extremely well-done, creating perhaps more substance than was meant with the music, though obviously it does not fully obscure its somewhat fragmentary nature.)


Husker Du - Flip Your Wig
Bob Mould kills on the A-side of this while Grant Hart keeps a solidly lower profile throughout. Title track takes on both writers' views of impending stardom (that sadly never really came their way), then Grant's "Every Everything" sets the stage for Bob to introduce the greatest drum fill of the 80's, surrounded by one of his all-time best tunes and lyrics in "Makes No Sense At All" (which even to this day I think would adapt remarkably well to a twangy country reading, but never mind...). Up next - Bob's quick and catchy "Hate Paper Doll." Grant follows with his fine love song "Green Eyes" and Bob kicks out one of his best power riffs in "Divide and Conquer," which also offers up the unique trick of holding out on delivering its chorus until the very end. Bob's "Games" closes the side out with something more generic, offering a glimpse of what's to come on the second side, where the tables turn and Grant gets to showcase his best stuff while Bob flounders a bit. There Bob gives us "Find Me" and "Private Plane" while Grant steps it up with "Flexible Flyer" and the heartfelt "Keep Hanging On." They both throw out a goof in "The Baby Song" and close the record on two solid if unspectacular instrumentals that leave authorship uncertain. Grant is concerned mainly with relationships throughout - and maybe Bob is too sometimes, though he makes his words ambiguous enough that even when they're clearly directed at another person his meanings are still opaque. On the first side where he's as catchy and riff-happy as any point in his career the opacity doesn't bother me; on the flip where structure, noise and forward motion take the place of melody, I balk a little. Grant, on the other hand, starts out slow and makes gains with each song on the album, ending things on a high with his vocal performance in "Keep Hanging On." The instrumentals provide enough auditory damage and guitar madness to keep fans on their earlier work happy, but I think that their tune sense was improving around this time and that they put all the pieces - noise, tune, vocals, words - together better on their next one, even if it doesn't sport a "Makes No Sense At All" to anchor it. A solid record that's about 50% great, 50% good, but they did melody better next time out and noise better last time out.



Bill Evans - Alone
No multi-tracking, no band, just Evans solo, playing four across the A-side and one extended slice of genius over the B. The CD offers up alternate versions of all five tracks plus another two solos from the same sessions - a standards medley and the lone Evans original of the set. The original album though remains the focus. The shorter songs are lovely - nothing is terrifically fast here (it is, after all, Bill Evans), but they're not languorous either, just thoughtful, introspective, lovely. But when the 14:34 of "Never Let Me Go" kicks off, you know you're in for a ride. Evans states the song's melancholy melody and begins to spin off his improvisations, alighting regularly to restate the melody only to fly off again. If anything, it's too short for me at 14 1/2 minutes. I could listen to him work it over for 20 minutes easily. I guess that's where the bonus tracks come in again, offering up 10 1/2 more minutes of the song (and of course, the other alternates). There's not a lot of solo Bill out there, so it's good that this particular record is a pretty damn fine one.