Doug Ramsey on Jazz and other matters...
I wanted to show you the maple tree on the west side of the house at its peak of fall glory. The question was, whose version of “Autumn Leaves” should accompany it? I considered those by Miles Davis, Eva Cassidy, Eddie Higgins, Doris Day, Cannonball Adderley, Sarah Vaughan, Nat Cole—including one of Cole singing the song in Japanese—and a couple of dozen others. In the end it came down to Bill Evans, from Portrait In Jazz, recorded on December 28, 1959, with Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian.
Ron Miles: Quiver (enja yellow bird)
Miles’s playing on “There Ain’t No Sweet Man Worth the Salt of My Tears” draws 21st century Denver and 1928 Chicago close. Some of his flurries of wildness on this album are as daring as the work of any modern trumpeter, but the Bix Beiderbecke lyricism in Miles’s soul extends into everything he plays. With just Bill Frisell’s guitar and Brian Blade’s drums, Miles may seem to be operating lean. No, there is richness in their harmonic inventiveness and rhythmic compatibility. The nine pieces are not officially a suite, but unity of conception runs through the performances. This is a satisfying album.
Heather Masse And Dick Hyman: Lock My Heart (Red House)
With The Wailin’ Jennys and the Wayfaring Strangers and appearances on radio’s Prairie Home Companion, Heather Masse has attracted a following among folk and bluegrass fans. This album of duets with master pianist Dick Hyman discloses the jazz foundation that has long been evident in her singing. Their treatments of Strayhorn’s “A Flower is a Lovesome Thing” and Buddy Johnson’s “Since I Fell For You” are ballad perfection. In their delightful “I’m Gonna Lock My Heart and Throw Away the Key,” she manages to combine Billie Holiday and Marilyn Monroe. Hyman’s accompaniments and solos are reminders that this 86-year-old wonder is one of the most interesting pianists alive.
Miles Davis Quintet Live In Europe 1969: The Bootleg Series Vol. 2 (Columbia/Legacy)
This three-CD, one-DVD set finds the trumpeter fomenting even more dramatic change than usual. The first volume in the so-called bootleg series of Davis concert recordings found his primarily acoustic 1967 quintet already tending toward electronic music and rock. Saxophonist Wayne Shorter remains from that band. Here, the transition intensifies. Electric pianist Chick Corea, bassist Dave Holland and drummer Jack DeJohnette accelerate the shift Davis initiated with In A Silent Way. The repertoire is redolent of Davis’s Bitches Brew period. We hear the headiness, excitement and—sometimes—the aimlessness of newfound freedom. The DVD’s superb sound and picture bring the band alive.
Bill Frisell, The Disfarmer Project (La Huit)
Belgian filmmaker Guillame Dero captures the eclectic guitarist Frisell, violinist Carrie Rodriguez, guitarist Greg Leisz and bassist Viktor Krauss in a live performance set to portraits by the 1950s Arkansas photographer Mike Disfarmer. Some of the music was on a 2009 CD mentioned in this Rifftides post. Hearing it in new versions with Disfarmer’s eccentric and vaguely disturbing photos looming over the band is an adventure. Watching interaction and reaction among the quartet increases the fascination. Frisell salts his original compositions with songs by Hank Williams, Arthur Crudup and Cliff Friend.
Paul de Barros, Shall We Play That One Together? The Life and Art of Jazz Piano Legend Marian McPartland (St. Martin’s Press)
The nonagenarian pianist presented de Barros with every biographer’s hope, unrestricted access to his subject’s personal papers and nearly unrestricted access to her private thoughts. He made the most of it, turning exhaustive research and hundreds of hours of interviews into a true story with the sweep of a novel. From the early discovery of McPartland’s musical gift through her wartime service, her ecstatic and stormy marriage to Jimmy McPartland, her growth as a pianist, her deep affair with Joe Morello, and the radio show that made her a national figure, she has had a fascinating life. It makes a splendid read.
Gerry Mulligan and the Concert Jazz Band, Santa Monica 1960 (Fresh Sound)
Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band had three fewer musicians than most big jazz outfits. Its size permitted precision, flexibility and subtlety, yet the band had the power of sprung steel. In this concert from a half century ago, the CJB is as fresh as yesterday. Arrangements by Mulligan, Bob Brookmeyer, Al Cohn and Johnny Mandel set standards to which big band writers still aspire. Bassist Buddy Clark and drummer Mel Lewis inspired Mulligan, Brookmeyer, Conte Candoli, Gene Quill and Zoot Sims to some of the best soloing of their careers. This beautifully produced issue of the complete concert is a basic repertoire item.
Thanks Doug & happy Autumn. For me, the Autumn Leaves version that knocks me out with a groove that won’t quit is Keith Jarrett Trio Live @ The Blue Note (Disc 3, Track 1):
http://www.allmusic.com/album/keith-jarrett-at-the-blue-note-the-complete-recordings-mw0000176964
all 26+ minutes of it ‘s a fine way to welcome this fine season. Got any maple syrup?
Thanks for reminding us of this moment, and of the OTHER “Autumn Leaves” take from that day.
These guys were inventing more than a new concept of the “jazz” trio: new ways to swing and relate which Bill Evans had been maybe envisioning for years.
They seemed to be bringing subtle new moods to music itself, and to expand the meaning of “ensemble”.
Thanks, Doug. Beautiful picture and excellent track. A few of your readers may not know that, as good as this track is, it was not the preferred version recorded that day. That version had been recorded in mono only and thus did not appear on the original stereo LP. The stereo LP contained the track presented here and the preferred version appeared only on the mono LP. The latter may be heard here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_Xbiwl4vWg
Yes, which is “better”? And Frank, I assume you have The Legendary Bill Evans Trio: The 1960 Birdland Sessions. Four sets, March and April, 1960, “Autumn Leaves” in every set…new vistas every visit.
And as with Portrait in Jazz, many moods in the other numbers. That Trio changed the atmosphere itself, but in such a subtle, natural, and unforced way that it didn’t seem revolutionary…just musical.
As several, including B.E., said in recent Rifftides “quotes” piece, it isn’t always necessary to *strive* for originality. They seemed just to focus on the Truth.
Not everybody can be as into it as Bill, Scott, and Motian. But they seem to *bring* us into it.
Yeah, that’s the one I heard first. It’s very easy to identify: Scott’s significant descending triplet-phrase in his solo break got repeated by Bill as kind of response. The trio sounds tighter, more decisive here, maybe due to mono all coming out of one channel?
I was hoping Bill Evans’ “Autumn Leaves” would make your top five. Happy to see you rank it #1. That song appeared on so many Bill Evans albums and live recordings over the years, it’s interesting to see it evolve musically in terms of tempo and style.
FYI our Autumn Leaves are beautiful here, just up the street from you in Spokane!
Thanks for posting the very first version of the immortal French evergreen I ever heard; it was Bill Evans who introduced me to the song, even before I knew the other famous rendition with Cannonball & Miles,
Well, it’s a French chanson by Joseph Kosma, composed to the lyrics of Jaques Prévert, sung here by the equally immortal Juliette Greco in her inimitable, dark, fragile way in 1967.
It’s about time to harvest some of those beautiful fallen leaves for sticking the most colorful on my kitchen window.
In the sideswipe of Storm Sandy, Toronto got a lot of rain and wind. Sadly the 110+ year old silver maple in my front yard lost a couple of large branches, making it look a bit like a tall palm tree. But the tree-guy says it’s actually still very healthy. Nevertheless, it’s with a bit of melancholy that I looked at your lovely maple, and think: “Autumn Leaves” is a bit of a cliche, isn’t it?
Let’s give equal time to another, less-often heard tune, “Autumn Serenade”… (but why does most everyone do it as a rhumba?)
John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsgQCLih118
Harry James: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAD9pCdEth0 (I guess this was ‘pre-rhumba’…)
Terry Pollard with Don Fagerquist: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2W_BXVu4Kk
Joanie Sommers: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=828gbmMWZEU
George Shearing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBqqGgCbQ8A&feature=related Here, they eventually break out of the rhumba, then go back.
Or even more rare, “Autumn Nocturne”…
A 1941 version by Claude Thornhill: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asmWEqz0-cM&feature=fvwrel
One by Charlie Spivak that was a good size hit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nt4L190WGwM&playnext=1&list=PL50FC56CF6CE56EDA&feature=results_video
Lou Donaldson: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SRRv6B47mI
and, if you wait 4′!5″, Sonny Rollins plays it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_tOlwXbOsE&feature=related
You can take the man out of radio, but you can’t take radio out of the man. Nice play list, Ted.
Yeah, great list indeed, Ted.
Please let me add only this: “Early Autumn,” but the other one, which had lyrics from the start.
Roger Williams, hands down
I was going to avoid this, but we’ll let the folks judge for themselves:
That’s a bit late for … Halloween, Doug, don’t you think so? It’s so creepy, so very creepy, especially the Lady at the organ.
By the way: I’ve never seen leaves falling down in symmetric cascades, have you? Good fingering, though
Now, what does Mr. Williams’ smile mean at the end?
“Ha! Successfully wrecked this one too!”
Many years ago I played behind Williams in a Symphonic Pops concert. He came across as a somewhat jaded (who wouldn’t be?) but genial guy. He was very easy going at the rehearsal, telling the orchestra to just have fun, and if you feel like throwing something in, feel free. He advised the string section that it wouldn’t hurt to sway back and forth a bit while playing – not that he got any cooperation on either suggestion. His stage patter was some of the funniest I’ve ever heard. The music was about a 50/50 mix of shlock and comedy. At one point he spoke of his admiration for Bird & Diz and played a short, credible bebop medley with just his trio (perhaps as an antidote.) The funniest part came after intermission. He had an assistant take down a list of requests from the audience, then proceeded to play through the list, ending with “Deep in the Heart of Texas.” I have no idea whether what followed was spontaneous, or part of his usual routine, but for the entire rest of the concert he would insert, at least once in each number, a quotation of “Deep in the Heart…” a tritone away from whatever key we were in.
a lot of great names have popped up here – but I don’t know how you could have made a better choice
I remember when this record came out (sometime in the 50′s I think). I never heard it again until just now – and I don’t feel any differently about it.