Bob James' most enduring recording is perhaps one of his least adventurous. Full of simple laid-back melodies, light, airy grooves, and quiet backdrops, it's a smooth jazz "masterpiece." It's an enduring part of his catalog and was the launch pad for many movie and television projects, and for a string of hit recordings for the Warner label in the 1970s, '80s, and '90s. In effect, it insured his financial security for the future. The set is notable for its heavyweight cast including David Sanborn, Ron Carter, Idris Muhammad, Steve Gadd, Eric Gale, Hubert Laws, and Earl Klugh. It also netted the monster hit "Angela (Theme from Taxi)," which continued to get airplay on smooth jazz stations into the 21st century. James is a highly developed pianist, arranger, and composer, and while the music here is as safe as milk, it nonetheless spoke to millions.
BJ 4 starts off promising with a flugelhorn solo from the great Art Farmer, but the music soon sinks into pure commercialism. Bob James' keyboards are always prominent, as are the rather mechanical rhythms churned out by bassist Gary King, drummer Steve Gadd, and percussionist Ralph MacDonald. Although there are some catchy moments, the six selections (which all clock in between almost five and almost seven minutes) never seem to travel anywhere. Farmer, flutist Hubert Laws and guitarist Eric Gale have short solos that are primarily used as props and for contrast before James takes back complete control. The occasional strings and woodwinds make the light funk music here seem a bit Muzaky, so this is one to skip.
Bob James' first recording for his Tappan Zee label is typically lightweight. Although Grover Washington, Jr. has two spots on soprano, and trumpeter Jon Faddis is in the brass section, James' dated Fender Rhodes keyboard is the lead voice throughout the six pieces, which include two adaptations of classical works…
The root of Lean on Me is in a Bill Withers medley that became part of José James' set lists. It went down so well that Blue Note boss Don Was convinced the singer to take it a step farther with a studio album of songs by Withers, the everyman soul paragon who started late – 32 in 1971, when his first LP was released – and finished early. Withers' '80s exit was so uncommonly abrupt and final that neither a documentary nor a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction has prevented the general public from sending "When did Bill Withers passed [sic] away?" to the top of the "People also ask" chart generated by Googling the name.
Given the glut of "String Quartet Tribute to So and So," "Electronic Tribute to Some Crappy Band," and "Pickin' on Whomever" "tributes," it's somewhat surprising that no one has tackled Pavement in a tribute album – not until now, at any rate. And even more surprising is that it's not one of those aforementioned knockoffs; it's a heavyweight jazz session with James Carter, Cyrus Chestnut, and Reginald Veal, three of jazz's finest players on their respective instruments (rounded out by the talented Ali Jackson on drums). You may be asking, "what the hell are a bunch of jazzbos doing playing Pavement tunes?" The short answer, "making a great album." Remember, underneath their slacker image and loose, lo-fi aesthetic, Pavement's best tunes were memorable and melodic with interesting (though sometimes ramshackle) arrangements.