Showing posts with label Kenny Barron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kenny Barron. Show all posts

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Tim Hegarty: Tribute

Miles High Records
By Ric Bang
Buy CD: Tribute


When good jazz musicians get together, you can almost always look forward to a swinging album. That’s certainly the case with this release, which features saxophonist Tim Hegarty. He’s not yet a name artist, but this album demonstrates that he’s well on the way. 

Hegarty grew up in a musical family, began playing at an early age, received his education at Miami University, the Manhattan School of Music, and the New School, and earned his master’s degree from Queens College.

During his early years he was good enough — and lucky enough — to learn from, and play with, luminaries such as Frank Foster, Gil Evans and the Mingus Big Band. Names like that provide the musical “keys to the city,” and Hegarty took full advantage.

Hegarty performs on both tenor and soprano sax on this album; his style is clean, straight-ahead, smooth and always swinging. He’s supported by some like-minded artists: Kenny Barron on piano, Rufus Reid on bass, and Carl Allen on drums. The excellent vibraphonist Mark Sherman also guests on half of the 10 tracks. 

The album title reflects Hegarty’s acknowledgement and appreciation of the past and present artists who have influenced him.

The musical menu include a couple of Hegarty originals, four charts from Jimmy Heath, and jazz standards from Frank Foster, George Coleman, Joe Henderson and T. Monk.

Hey, you just can’t miss with these cats!

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Frank Wess: Magic 201

IPO Recordings
By Ric Bang
Buy CD: Magic 201

I reviewed a wonderful IPO album a few months back: Frank Wess’ Magic 101. I stated that it was the best jazz record I’d heard that year. Well, thanks to splendid foresight, Magic 201 was recorded during that same session ... and it’s every bit as sensational as its predecessor. 

The cast of artists has changed slightly, but the result still is some of the best music you’ve ever heard. Wess plays both tenor sax and flute; Kenny Barron returns on piano, and Winard Harper repeats on drums. They’re joined by bassist Rufus Reid and guitarist Russell Malone. Once again, the selected menu includes some wonderful standards (“It Could Happen to You,” “After Paris” and others), and a couple of Wess originals (“Blues for Ruby” and “If You Can’t Call, Don’t Come”). It’s all danceable; two of the charts are mid-tempo, while the rest are ballads.

Wess demonstrates his chops as a flautist on Bergman and Legrand’s “The Summer Knows”; he uses his tenor sax on the rest of the tunes. In all cases, his gorgeous tone and marvelous timing are to die for. As for his forays into the blues, nothing could groove more intently. Barron’s piano is superior, as always; Reid’s bass is solid; and Harper’s drumming is just wonderful ... swinging, but never getting in the way of the other artists. 

The addition of Malone on guitar is brilliant; this “relative youngster” fits into the group splendidly, and more than holds his own during the solo passages.


Let’s hope IPO has additional Magic chapters to lay on us, in the near future.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Frank Wess: Magic 101

IPO Recordings
By Ric Bang
Buy CD: Magic 101

Every true jazz fan, particularly those who were part of the big band years, is familiar with Frank Wess. This tenor sax master was born in Oklahoma, all the way back in 1922, and he’s still active ... as this wonderful album clearly demonstrates. 

Wess began his music career in high school, initially playing tenor sax and classical music; he turned to jazz after his family relocated to Washington, D.C. He was playing with big bands by the time he turned 19. After an interruption for World War II service, he joined Billy Eckstine’s band, returned to school at D.C.’s Modern School of Music, and earned a degree in flute. He was hired by Count Basie in 1953, an association lasted until 1964: an almost unprecedented period of time for a jazz musician.

Not many reed artists doubled on flute during those early years, and Wess won Downbeat’s critic poll for that instrument from 1959 through ’64. He also added the alto sax to his horn arsenal during that period.

It’s difficult to cite a band that Wess hasn’t played with. Clark Terry, Roland Hanna, Kenny Baron, Rufus Reid, Buck Clayton, Benny Carter, Billy Taylor and Louis Bellson are just a few leaders to benefit from his talents; he also was in backup groups for vocalists such as Ernestine Anderson and Mel Torme. Wess is and always has been, to borrow the familiar phrase, a “musician’s musician.”

From a talent standpoint, he’s ageless. Most artists get stuck in a time slot: They’re remembered for how great they were during a particular period. That’s not the case with Wess; as jazz has advanced over the years, so has he. Although still famous for his association with Basie, Wess also is noted for his contributions to modernists such as John Coltrane, Toshiko Akiyoshi, Thad Jones and John Pizzarelli.

This album mostly features Wess with a “small jazz” group: a quartet that features pianist Kenny Barron, bassist Kenny Davis, and drummer Winard Harper. The menu primarily comprises melodies from the Great American Songbook and elite composers: Irving Berlin, Ray Noble, Mercer & Arlen, Robin & Ranger, Thelonious Monk and Duke Ellington. For good measure, Wess includes one of his own compositions, “Pretty Lady.” 

The opening standard, Berlin’s “Say It Isn’t So,” is done at a sinuous mid-tempo that showcases Wess’ masterful tenor sax work, and illustrates just what pure jazz really is. This album’s rendition of Noble’s “The Very Thought of You” is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever heard, and it perfectly sets the stage for the aforementioned “Pretty Lady.” These two ballads demand a few more “dance with me” melodies, and Wess obliges with “Come Rain or Come Shine” and “Easy Living.” By this time, you won’t want to let go of your significant other; Wess further amplifies that mood with the grooving “Blue Monk” and, finally, Ellington’s seldom-heard “All Too Soon.”


Wess is in his 90s, and one can only hope he lives forever. This is, simply, the best jazz album I’ve heard in years. Don’t miss it! 

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Dizzy Gillespie: Live at the 1965 Monterey Jazz Festival

MJF Records
By Ric Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 2.7.08
Buy CD: Live at the 1965 Monterey Jazz Festival

Once upon a time, the Monterey Jazz Festival was the venue for both audiences and musicians. 

This release was recorded live at the 1965 edition of that annual concert ... and, unfortunately, sounds like it. The festival was a huge, open-air affair, somewhat like a football field with a tent-like structure around the rim and over the stage, located at one end. Most of the audience members were seated in the central area, exposed to whatever weather existed at the time. 

Higher-priced ticket holders were under cover of the "tent," but many were hundreds of feet away from the stage. Needless to say, the acoustics were terrible; at that time, electronic correction devices were relatively unknown. As a result, this CD's auditory quality is really poor. 

In 1965, Dizzy was in his Afro/Cuban phase. He was touring with a basic quintet: himself on trumpet, James Moody on flute and tenor sax, Kenny Barron on piano, Christopher White on bass and Rudy Collins on drums. They had just been augmented by Big Black on congas. 

Although this recording's audio quality is poor, the musical content is much better. Dizzy is at his best: At this stage of his career, he had total command of his instrument and played a lot in the higher trumpet range. Moody was concentrating more on flute than tenor sax, and was excellent on that instrument. Barron was playing pure bop-tinged jazz, and White's bass was a major driving force. 

Collins was an adequate drummer, but in this session his "ride" cymbal was too close to the microphones; as a result, at times he drowns out Moody and Barron. Big Black's congas adds a Latin flavor to the beat, but — for my taste — are overwhelming at times. 

The CD is only a tad more than 45 minutes long, and almost 5 minutes are spent on what was supposed to be a comedic interchange between Dizzy and Big Black after one of the tunes. It might have been amusing at the time, but it sure isn't politically correct now, because of racial references. 

If you must have everything Dizzy ever did, this album may be worthwhile as a collectors item ... but plenty of other discs are musically superior.

Thursday, December 7, 2006

Holiday Jazz 2006: Yule be swingin'

By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.7.06


[Web master’s note: Northern California film critic Derrick Bang — the eldest, youngest and only son of this site’s jazz guru, Ric Bang — has surveyed the holiday jazz scene for roughly 11 years, with lengthy columns that just keep growing.]

Researching this annual round-up just became a bit harder.

Whatever the chain’s other vices and virtues, Tower Records always displayed an impressive selection of seasonal music, and — at Sacramento’s Watt Avenue outlet — even divided the releases by genre. Flipping through discs to find new holiday jazz releases was an annual treat, and one I greatly anticipated each November.

But now, with Tower gone, my only local option is Borders. I’ve nothing but praise for their variety of books, but the music section has needed serious help for quite some time; it appears as if nobody even bothers to alphabetize the discs in many sections, let alone divide by sub-category. Have you ever tried to find a soundtrack in that mess?

Fortunately, the still-cherished “search the bins” experience remains a possibility, albeit with a bit more planning. Berkeley’s Amoeba Music sets up a dynamite display of holiday music in late November, and those folks also stock an impressive supply of used CDs and — wait for it — even LPs.

I call it paradise.

Even a visit to Amoeba, however, didn’t reveal all that much in the way of 2006 holiday jazz releases, which makes me wonder if the last decade’s “soft jazz”-inspired deluge finally might be receding. One year does not a trend make, but I am surprised by the relative scarcity of new material.

Thank goodness for the Internet, and for below-the-radar Web outlets such as cdbaby and ejazzlines.com. I’ve long shouted the joys of cdbaby, but ejazzlines is new to me this year ... and they even have a special section wholly devoted to Christmas jazz.

Thanks to such resources, I found quite a few recent and even older CDs to round out this yearly celebration of holiday jazz. As usual, an initially reasonable article therefore blossomed into a monster of redwood status, and I’ll be mightily impressed by anybody who keeps reading to the bitter end.

But the journey, as the say, is reason enough. I had my usual good time with all this music, and I hope some of it winds up in your home, as well.

Those who’ve grown tired of the same old-same old in seasonal jazz will want to run, not walk, to find a copy of the Classical Jazz Quartet’s Christmas (Kind of Blue 10014). This positively sublime album features some of today’s finest jazz stars: Kenny Barron on piano, Ron Carter on bass, Stefon Harris on vibes and marimba, and Lewis Nash on drums.

And you won’t find a trace of Rudolph, Frosty or the Chipmunks.

As befits the ensemble’s name, these guys have compiled an album of classically hued tracks: two stand-alone pieces — the “Hallelujah” from Handel’s Messiah, and Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” — and an ambitious, six-movement arrangement of Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker.

The overall tone may be on the occasionally solemn side, but the jazz chops are magnificent. Harris struts his stuff with a dynamic interpretation of the melody line from Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus”; he yields to Barron’s equally vigorous piano work, and then the entire quartet goes to town.

Bach comes next: Carter gently plucks the opening melody, which expands to include both piano and vibes until kicking into high gear after another minute or so. Many Christmas jazz albums serve nicely as background music, but you can’t help but pay close attention to these four guys; musicians who complement each other so well demand a listener’s full concentration.

As for the nearly 40-minute “Nutcracker,” all I can say is wow. The second movement — the “March” — is particularly delightful.

I’d love to have been in the studio while this album was recorded, because these guys clearly had a great time. And they just might help sway that Bach, Beethoven and Mozart-oriented friend of yours, who hasn’t yet found a reason to like jazz.