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Brad Terry, I Feel More Like I Do Now Than I Did Yesterday (Lulu)

The quotations on the back of this remarkable book include one from a Jazz Times review that I wrote many years ago. It calls Terry, “one of the well-hidden clarinet secrets of our time.” At 78, his talent remains undercover despite accolades from Jim Hall, Roger Kellaway and Gene Lees, despite Dizzy Gillespie’s admiration for his musicianship. In part, that is because of his devotion to the camp he ran for years to develop character in difficult young boys. In an extension of that mission, Terry helped youngsters in the US and Poland learn to play jazz. He found time to record superb albums with guitarists Lenny Breau, John Basile and some of his Polish discoveries. All along, Terry has struggled with Attention Deficit Disorder. As natural a writer as he is a musician, his story leaves the reader admiring his heart, humor and courage.

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George Cables, In Good Company (High Note)

The “Company” of the title refers to more than Cables’ trio members, bassist Essiet Essiet and drummer Victor Lewis. It alludes to four fellow pianists whose compositions he plays in addition to two of his own in this relaxed collection. At 70, Cables reflects the values of the jazz mainstream of which he has been a solid part. In decades of work with Art Blakey, Sonny Rollins, Dexter Gordon, Art Pepper, Joe Henderson and others he has been a respected sideman and leader. Between his lengthy opening exploration of “After the Morning,” a John Hicks waltz, and the concluding single chorus of Billy Strayhorn’s “Day Dream,” Cables interprets pieces by Duke Ellington and Kenny Barron. Sparked by Lewis, Cables’ “Mr. Anonymouse” is an adventure in kinetic energy.

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Kenny Dorham, Quiet Kenny (Original Jazz Classics)

Dorham was of the generation of trumpet players indebted to Dizzy Gillespie. As his playing gained individuality in the late forties, he developed into one of the trumpet’s great melodic improvisers. His rhythm section here is pianist Tommy Flanagan, bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Arthur Taylor. A few months earlier in 1960, they accompanied John Coltrane in his watershed “Giant Steps” session. The CD contains Dorham originals and five standard songs. His readings of the melodies of “My Ideal,” “I Had the Craziest Dream,” “Old Folks” and “Mack the Knife” conjure up the lyrics almost as surely as if he were singing them. Then, he proceeds to create melodies that equal or surpass the originals. “Alone Together” consists of Dorham playing the melody one time. His only improvisation is ten seconds of gentle declension at the end. It’s a magical performance.

Matthew Shipp Trio, To Duke (RogueArt)

Shipp introduces the album with “Prelude to Duke,” 44 seconds of unaccompanied piano in which he may be ruminating on Ellington’s 1953 solo recording “Reflections in D.” Then Shipp, bassist Michael Bisio and drummer Whit Dickey transport the listener to Ellingtonia proper with “In a Sentimental Mood.” Shipp concentrates on melodies—Ellington’s and those the pianist creates—while Bisio plays free counterpoint, Dickey layers cymbal splashes on brushed snare drum patterns and Shipp minds the outline of the song. Abetted by the ESP of Bisio’s and Dickey’s reactions, Shipp’s time displacement rules “Satin Doll.” The trio takes “the ’A’ Train” on a wild ride breathtakingly close to, but not over, the edge of coherence. So it goes through seven Ellington pieces and four compatible Shipp originals. Riveting stuff by three extraordinary musicians finely attuned to Ellington but, most of all, to one another.

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Steve Coleman and the Council of Balance, Synovial Joints (PI Recordings)

Steve Coleman’s edgy alto saxophone and flute playing, iconoclastic composition methods and founding of the 1970s and ‘80s M-Base movement led the inattentive to classify him with free-jazz adventurers. In fact, he was and is dedicated to precision and control in applying his theories. At the heart of the CD is a four-movement suite as intricate as its inspiration—the interaction of the system of bones and sinews that makes possible the human body’s movements. That may sound academic, but the parts played by reed, brass, stringed and percussion instruments combine in music that has depth, thematic cohesiveness and, often, warmth and humor. Coleman’s alto sax, Jonathan Finlayson’s trumpet and David Bryant’s piano generate many of the improvisational sparks. The 21 instrumentalists perform Coleman’s demanding arrangements with élan. Among the album’s six additional pieces, the Latinate “Harmattan” is a tour de force of contrapuntal writing and playing.

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Charles Lloyd, Wild Man Dance (Blue Note)

For the first three minutes of the opening “Flying Over The Odra Valley,” the Greek lyra of Sokratis Sinopoulos and the Hungarian cimbalom of Miklós Lucáks play what might be music for yoga meditation. Then the commanding tonality and rhythmic push of Lloyd’s tenor saxophone charge the atmosphere, and the exotic stringed instruments meld with his quartet in a suite fascinating in its variety and depth. In six movements, Lloyd, pianist Gerald Clayton, bassist Joe Sanders and drummer Gerald Cleaver make the most of the opportunities in Lloyd’s composition. All have stunning solos, notably so in the kaleidoscopic fourth movement, “River.” Elsewhere, blends of their instruments with Lucáks’s cimbalom and Sinopoulos’s lyra produce colors that heighten the suite’s air of reflection and purpose. This could be for Lloyd in the new century what his hit album Forest Flower was in the last.

For a Rifftides review of Lloyd at the 2014 Ystad Jazz Festival, go here.

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Jack Teagarden, Think Well of Me (Verve)

Rifftides reader David Chilver, son of the guitarist Pete Chilver (1924-2008), writes from the UK that he recently found among his father’s belongings a Jack Teagarden CD minus cover or liner notes. He listened to it, liked it and went online to see what he could learn about the album. What he found was my 1999 JazzTimes review. Mr. Chilver’s enthusiastic discussion of the recording encouraged me to listen to it for the first time in too long, and then listen to it again. It was as captivating as ever. Here is the review.

This is a Teagarden album like nothing else in his 40-year discography. Made in 1962, precisely two years before his death, it reflects much that was important about the man and musician; the uncanny precision and languorous passion of his trombone playing, the intimacy of his singing, his blues core, the performance quality that never declined even in the weariness of his final years.

Except for Jimmy McHugh’s and Harold Adamson’s “Where Are You,” all of the songs are by Willard Robison, a songwriter who has never been recognized in proportion to his talent. With their freight of nostalgia and down-home wisdom, Robison’s pieces are ideal vehicles for Teagarden’s warming voice and trombone. The settings by Russ Case and Bob Brookmeyer (in his first recorded string arrangements) provide just the right amount of emphasis and cushioning. The orchestrations are in keeping with Teagarden’s infallible taste. These are definitive versions of “Old Folks,” “A Cottage for Sale,” “Guess I’ll Go Back Home This Summer,” the unusual title song and six other Robison compositions. The trombone playing is incomparable.

Teagarden’s favorite trumpet sidekick of his latter years, Don Goldie, provides interludes between vocals and trombone solos, as well as occasional obbligatos. It is some of Goldie’s best proportioned work on record. The only deficit in taste is in occasional skittery accompaniments by an overactive pianist, Bernie Leighton; Teagarden is so compelling that they matter little. Verve sat on this classic for a long time before putting it on compact disc. It is in their limited Elite Edition series. It won’t be long in the bins.

There aren’t many bins these days because there aren’t many record stores. Having assumed that Think Well of Me was long out of print, I was surprised to find that it is available (click on the title above). Here’s a reason that is good news, one of Robison’s most affecting songs.

Jack Teagarden, 1905-1964.

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Tom Varner, Nine Surprises (Tom Varner Music)

In writing for his nine-piece ensemble, Tom Varner layers and interleaves parts for the seven horns so that his textures of harmony and rhythm often create the illusion of a larger band. His skill as a composer and arranger equals his virtuosity as one of the few first-rate French horn improvisers in jazz history. “Seattle Blues,” the sixth movement in this 15-part suite, is a prime example of his achievement in both areas. In the decade since he moved from New York to Seattle, Varner has shaped this ensemble to balance precise musicianship with a feeling of abandon more often expected in free jazz or New Orleans street ensembles. Other impressive soloists are trumpeter Thomas Marriott, bassist Phil Sparks, clarinetist Steve Treseler, drummer Byron Vannoy, trombonist David Marriott and saxophonists Mark Taylor, Jim DeJoie and Eric Barber. Hey, that’s the whole band.

Peter Pullman, Wail: The Life of Bud Powell (Pullman)

Pullman’s research, detail and zeal override flaws of style in this indispensible study of the architect and spirit of modern jazz piano. The author is illuminating in his treatment of Powell’s early years as a child prodigy. He is chilling in his documentation of the mature pianist’s tribulations in the hands of police, mental institutions, lawyers, the courts, and some of his women companions. He paints a bleaker picture than the conventional wisdom that Powell’s European exile was a happy period. Concocted racial euphemisms like “afram” and “euram” are distractions, as is banishment of “the” in the names of things. Descriptions of Powell’s music making are likely to send the reader to the CD shelves or YouTube to hear the brilliance of the pianist’s inventions. Pullman delivers invaluable information about a great artist. Flaws, eccentricities and all, this is an essential book.