Janine Waldman; Paul Z. Jackson – Resilienza

Legendary vibraphonist Milt Jackson needed only three sessions to record the gem that is 1963’s Invitation, an album on which the longtime Modern Jazz Quartet member paired the enviable cast of trumpeter Kenny Dorham, tenor saxophonist Jimmy Heath, pianist Tommy Flanagan, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Connie Kay. No, you don’t need to be a jazz aficionado to recognize those musicians. Household names all, they and Jackson deliver in spades, performing a satisfyingly diverse set that spans Hollywood film scores, Broadway showtunes, and jazz standards.
Whether on the gently swaying title track, Thelonious Monk’s contemplative “Ruby, My Dear,” or swinging “The Sealer,” you are transported to a universe of mellow moods and playful optimism…

Brian Jackson JID008 is the first full album released by the great man in 20 years and it's a testament to his multifaceted talents that while there are moments throughout that hint at his game-changing history and track record, for the most part it reveals a musician whose considerable lessons learned from the past only serve to keep his eyes firmly fixed on the future. It's a masterclass in unbridled and open-minded creativity, no different from what Brian did half a century ago. The ease and comfort with which his ideas integrate with those of musicians a generation younger than him bears this out. To listen to this album is to hear a hot up-and-coming musician who also happens to be a major jazz-funk legend.

Z.Z. Hill (1981). The initial step in Hill's amazing rebirth as a contemporary blues star, courtesy of Jackson, Mississippi's Malaco Records and producers Tommy Couch and Wolf Stephenson. The vicious blues outings "Bump and Grind" and "Blue Monday" were the first salvos fired by Hill at the blues market, though much of the set - "Please Don't Make Me (Do Something Bad to You)," "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" - was solidly in the Southern soul vein.
Bluesmaster (1984). Issued the year he died, Bluesmaster boasted more competent soul-blues hybrids by the man who reenergized the blues idiom with his trademark growl. LaSalle's "You're Ruining My Bad Reputation," "Friday Is My Day" (written by legendary Malaco promo man Dave Clark), and a nice reading of Paul Kelly's slinky "Personally" rate with the standouts.

The wonderful timbres of original Baroque instruments and the vigorous period interpretations by Paul Dombrecht and Il Fondamento go far to make this 2004 release a delightful listening experience, even if Johann Friedrich Fasch's music falls short of genius. Not that Fasch was considered a mediocrity in his time: despite his later reputation as a modest Prussian kapellmeister, he was widely traveled, well-educated, and popular in his youth; and he enjoyed the benefits brought by continued publication of his Ouvertures, even after settling down in Zerbst in 1722.

Vibraphonist Milt Jackson and tenor saxophonist John Coltrane make for a surprisingly complementary team on this 1959 studio session, their only joint recording. With fine backup by pianist Hank Jones, bassist Paul Chambers, and drummer Connie Kay, Bags and Trane stretch out on two of Jackson's originals (including "The Late Late Blues") and three standards: a romping "Three Little Words," "The Night We Called It a Day," and the rapid "Be-Bop."