Ray Skjelbred & Jim Goodwin, Recorded Live in Port Costa (Orangapoid)

A couple of years ago I wrote about the night I discovered Jim Goodwin’s cornet playing and became an instant fan: “His solos had echoes and intimations of Bix Beiderbecke, Louis Armstrong, Ruby Braff, Max Kaminsky and Wild Bill Davison. He wrapped all of that into a style of great individuality, intimacy, forthright conviction and humor.” This CD captures Goodwin and pianist Skjelbred in 1977, 32 years before Goodwin’s death. His solo on “Russian Lullaby” is pure joyous intensity, “Black and Tan Fantasy” a distillation of early Ellington and Bubber Miley. These previously unissued club performances come as a surprise and a treat.

Zoot Sims, In A Sentimental Mood (MVD)

We see the tenor saxophonist sitting on a couch telling bassist Red Mitchell about his treasured old horn. Then the two and guitarist Rune Gustafsson play “In a Sentimental Mood.” Sims tells about Benny Goodman stealing his apple, and they play “Gone With the Wind.” For nearly an hour, we eavesdrop on a superb trio in an intimate setting, sharing stories and music. Like The Sound of Jazz, it is a video rarity—musicians allowed to be themselves, cameras and microphones capturing the proceedings without contrivance. It was November, 1984. Four months later, Zoot was gone. This is a treasure.

Tad Hershorn, Norman Granz, The Man Who Used Jazz for Justice (California)

In his biography of the concert, recording and equal rights trailblazer, Hershorn praises Granz’s achievements as thoroughly as he examines the impresario’s notoriously abrasive manner. In the balance, Granz emerges as an admirable figure who bulled his way through or finessed his way around obstacles to gain acceptance for the music he loved while demanding just treatment of its musicians. The book is alive with anecdotes about virtually all of the major jazz figures of four decades, and with stories of what Granz achieved for jazz and society. Hershorn’s work aids understanding of a crucial period of American history.

Bruce Babad, A Tribute to Paul Desmond (Primrose Lane).

Alto saxophonist Babad approximates Desmond’s relaxation and lyricism without imitating him. From a pure sound standpoint, in the melody choruses of “Wendy,” “My Funny Valentine,” “Take Five” and other pieces associated with Desmond, he is almost eerily like his predecessor, but in the blowing choruses his harmonic approach and tonal characteristics earmark his individuality. Babad’s quotes may not quite achieve Desmond’s sly subversiveness, but they are literate and entertaining. His “Jan” is a lovely ballad, his “B.A.B.A.D” a witty “I Got Rhythm” contrafact. Guitarist Larry Koonse, pianist Ed Czach, bassist Luther Hughes and drummer Steve Barnes are superb. This is a sleeper.

Miguel Zenón, Alma Adentro: The Puerto Rican Songbook (Marsalis Music).

When Zenón won a MacArthur “genius grant” Fellowship in 2008, he said that it would allow him to further his goal of exploring and disseminating the music of his native Puerto Rico. Alma Adentro carries forward that work. If it lacks the raw excitement of much of his 2009 Esta Plena, the new album brings satisfactions through elegance and depth of sophistication in classic songs by major Puertorriqueño composers. The fire and liquidity of Zeñon’s alto saxophone work is beautifully set in Guillermo Klein’s ensemble arrangements. Zeñon’s quintet is, simply, one of the best bands in jazz today. You may feel compelled to dance.

Rufus Reid, Hues of a Different Blue (Motéma).

Noted for his power and impeccable note choices, the bassist follows up last year’s Out Front. Again his trio mates are pianist Steve Allee and drummer Duduka Da Fonseca. Reid gives generous guest solo space to tenor saxophonist JD Allen, alto saxophonist Bobby Watson (misidentified as playing tenor), trumpeter Freddie Hendrix and guitarist Toninho Horta. Standard songs alternate with originals by the participants. Highlights: Everyone’s blowing on Reid’s septet arrangement of the challenging title tune, Horta playing and vocalizing his “Francisca” and a Reid-Watson duet on “These Foolish Things.”

Gerry Mulligan, Jazz America (MVD Visual).

The film’s opening alternates clips of Mulligan smiling, playing his baritone sax and speaking. That brief documentary sequence establishes the good feeling that prevails in this 1981 performance at Eric’s, a New York club. From there on, it’s all music. Mulligan’s rhythm section—pianist Harold Danko, bassist Frank Luther, drummer Billy Hart—are locked into the spirit, one another and their leader. It’s a flawless set of Mulligan tunes of the period, including “North Atlantic Run,” “Song for Strayhorn” and “K-4 Pacific.” Gary Keys’ cinematography has the intimacy of tight closeups, just enough camera movement and no cute tricks. The sound by Jim Anderson is excellent.

David Kastin, Nica’s Dream: The Life and Legend of the Jazz Baroness (Norton).

US patrons of the arts generally fund institutions. In the tradition of European wealth, Pannonica de Koenigswarter helped individuals. She supported and befriended, among others, Charlie Parker, Art Blakey and Thelonious Monk. She shocked her peers and the public, lost her husband and did inestimable good for jazz. Despite her childrens’ refusal to cooperate, Kastin tells Nica’s story well—her escape from the stuffy Rothschild milieu, her war heroism, her discovery of jazz, her patronage of Monk and the sanctuary she provided him in his final troubled years. He captures the color and drama of her personality. For earlier Rifftides posts about Nica, go here.

Denny Zeitlin, Labyrinth (Sunnyside)

Four of the 10 solo piano pieces are adventurous departures from previous versions of Zeitlin’s compositions, including his kaleidoscopic treatment of the title tune. His reconstructions of Richard Rodgers’ “People Will Say We’re in Love” and Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints” would make Rodgers frown at the harmonic liberties and have Shorter smiling. Zeitlin holds Tom Harrell’s “Sail Away” in a respectful embrace and takes John Coltrane’s “Lazy Bird” for a romp. These performances come from two intimate recitals in a small hall blessed with a superb piano, good acoustics and audiences who listen.

Branford Marsalis & Joey Calderazzo, Songs of Mirth and Melancholy (Marsalis Music)

A dozen years of togetherness in Marsalis’s quartet have bred familiarity that allows the saxophonist and the pianist to flow through one another’s thoughts. In these duets, their interactions and reactions are as profound on the mirthful pieces as on the melancholy. Marsalis wrote three of the songs, Calderazzo four, Wayne Shorter and Johannes Brahms one apiece. The Brahms “Die Trauernde” is an art song, but then so are all the others. Influences as diverse as Mahler and Ron Carter may be apparent, but categories don’t apply here. Well, one category does; this is fine chamber music.

Mark Murphy, Never Let Me Go (Jazz Paisan)

In his early years, Murphy supported himself as an actor and a singer. His singing soon took precedence. His acting never stopped. The roles he inhabits are the songs he sings. His idiosyncrasies parallel those of Olivier, Brando, Guinness and Depp in character development undergirded by technique in the service of emotional range. In Murphy’s dozens of albums, that virtuosity has never been clearer than in this one. The songs are by Porter, Jobim, Evans, Broadbent and Murphy himself, among others. He brings to them deep musicianship and interpretive power. The supporting trio led by pianist Misha Piatagorsky is excellent.

Fred Anderson, 21st Century Chase (Delmark).

We gave this DVD glancing reference in noting the avant-garde Chicago tenor saxophonist‘s passing in 2010. It deserves fuller mention. “Chase” refers to the tenor sax tag-team tradition in jazz. Think Dexter Gordon and Wardell Gray in outer space. The other chaser here is Kidd Jordan, New Orleans’ dean of far-out tenor men. Jeff Parker is on guitar, Chad Taylor on drums. Harrison Bankhead, complete with top hat, plays bass and cello. Bassist Henry Grimes sits in on one piece. Never been to the Velvet Lounge in Chicago? This is almost like being there. Buckle your seat belt.

Kirk Knuffke & Jess Stacken, Orange Was The Color (Steeplechase).

Balancing daring and restraint, Knuffke and Stacken address 11 of Charles Mingus’s compositions. Knuffke sets aside his trumpet in favor of cornet to intertwine, contrast and parallel his lines with Stracken’s piano. He achieves remarkable precision and velocity at low volume. Stracken equals Knuffke in the control and articulation departments. Among the highlights: a section of free counterpoint on “Ecclusiastics” and heartfelt treatment of “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat.” The joy of their leap into “So Long Eric” is reminiscent of a cornet-piano team that thrived 85 years earlier: Louis Armstrong and Earl Hines. Also available as a CD.