Eric Dolphy has sometimes been described as an iconoclast, but in Outward Bound, he was not overturning his idol, Charlie Parker; he was building on Bird’s legacy. So deep was Dolphy’s musicianship, so free his imagination, that he enchanted trailblazers like John Coltrane and Charles Mingus. Partnering in this collection with the brilliant trumpeter Freddie Hubbard and a stunning rhythm section, Dolphy is at a peak of energy and creativity on alto saxophone, bass clarinet, and flute. He and Hubbard work with empathy reminiscent of the young Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. Pianist Jaki Byard, bassist George Tucker, and drummer Roy Haynes were ideal accompanists and co-conspirators in this widely influential work. This edition of Outward Bound contains two alternate takes and “April Fool,” a piece not on the original album.
This session is valuable for the majestic playing of tenor great Coleman Hawkins, who performs on half of the eight tracks. The key moments come during the interaction between the guitarist and tenor player, especially during their exchanges on Burrell's "Montono Blues." The rhythm section, Hawkins' working band from this period (pianist Tommy Flanagan, bassist Major Holley, and drummer Eddie Locke), provide impeccable, sublime support. The CD is rounded out with an up-tempo performance of the standard "I Never Knew," from a date led by pianist Gildo Mahones. This is where Burrell gets a chance to cook in his classic hard bop style, along with the fine alto player Leo Wright.
Red Garland's third session as a leader finds the distinctive pianist investigating eight standards (including "Please Send Me Someone to Love," "Stompin' at the Savoy," "If I Were a Bell," and "Almost Like Being in Love") with his distinctive chord voicings, melodic but creative ideas, and solid sense of swing. Joined by bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Art Taylor, Garland plays up to his usual consistent level, making this an easily recommended disc for straight-ahead fans.
Posterity remembers Oliver Nelson (1932-1975) primarily as an arranger/conductor. When he first began to attract attention with a series of albums for Prestige and its subsidiaries, however, Nelson was hailed as a versatile leader of small groups and a composer/instrumentalist who could refresh the music’s traditional verities while also looking ahead. There is no better showcase for these skills among his initial sessions than Screamin’ the Blues, a rousing set of funky modernism interpreted by a sextet of players who shared Nelson’s allegiance to both virtuosity and vision.
Recorded on December 3, 1963, The Freedom Book is a near perfect set of modern hard bop, ranging just far enough out there to feel fresh but retaining a strong lifeline to bop tradition. Highlights of the session include an impressive Ervin original, "A Lunar Tune," a fine version of Randy Weston's "Cry Me Not," the deliberately strident "Al's In," and another Ervin composition, the moving "A Day to Mourn," an emotionally charged ballad written after the assassination of JFK. The bonus track, an interesting and brief treatment of Victor Young's "Stella by Starlight," a piece strongly associated with Charlie Parker, was recorded at the Freedom Book session but was originally released on the album Groovin' High. It fits perfectly here, capping off a wonderful album.
In the spring of 1957, John Coltrane had gone through two years of artistic growth so concentrated it was astonishing even in the jazz world, where compressed musical development is far from unknown. As the other horn in the Miles Davis Quintet, Coltrane had moved from virtual obscurity to acclaim as the tenor saxophone innovator of the decade. Although major stylistic departures were to come, Coltrane was at a peak of the probing lyricism and strength of his middle period. With the interestingly contrasted baritone saxophonists Cecil Payne and Pepper Adams, and a rhythm section of great smoothness and swing, Dakar is a gem in the Coltrane discography.
Coltrane does not do the old Dexter Gordon/Leo Parker duet number, "Settin' the Pace," in this set. The overall title merely refers to his preeminence in the jazz world at the time the recording was released in the early Sixties.
Recorded in 1958, this session comes from a time when Trane had already played in the Miles Davis quintet and the Thelonious Monk quartet, and was frequenting Rudy Van Gelder's New Jersey studio in recording situations backed by the Red Garland trio. This threesome–Garland, Paul Chambers, and Arthur Taylor–was a Prestige entity on its own, but had already released such albums with Coltrane as Traneing In and Soultrane. Settin' the Pace, with its heady combination of seldom-done pop material and Jackie McLean's intriguing "Little Melonae," continued the excellent quartet series at a time when Trane was making jazz history at the head of yet another powerful foursome.
Here are four tracks from one of the classic sessions of all time when a combination of giants gathered in Rudy Van Gelder's studio on Christmas Eve afternoon and early dark, 1954. With Thelonious Monk and three quarters of the Modern Jazz Quartet (Jackson, Heath, and Clarke) as his accomplices, Miles blends sophisticated harmonic knowledge with raw, spontaneous invention to produce extraordinary music. The two takes of "The Man I Love" are quite different within their basic similarity. An starter in "Round Midnight" done by the great Davis Quintet of 1956 -Coltrane, Garland, Chambers, Philly Joe Jones.
Following on the heels of his magisterial work with Miles Davis on BAGS' GROOVE, Sonny Rollins entered Van Gelder Studios with a fire-breathing quintet on August 18, 1954, resulting in four of the five selections which make up MOVING OUT. This session might just as well have been titled "Busting Out," because MOVING OUT represents a breakthrough for Rollins as a bandleader and an improviser.
Rollins really stretches out on the title tune and "Swingin' For Bumsy," playing with a new-found rhythmic command and melodic authority–spreading his wings and flying with Bird-like harmonic declamations, and a dramatic flair all his own. The oft-neglected Kenny Dorham proves a brash soaring foil, but it is the legendary pianist Elmo Hope who really arouses the Heath Blakey axis. Hope's dense, dancing accompaniements prod the soloists into uncharted waters, while his limber, sprawling improvisations represent a singular school of modern piano, occupying a space somewhere between Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk. On the ballad "Silk N' Satin," Hope's brief interlude provides a dark spiritual contrast to Rollins' romantic yearning, while his blues shouts and broad harmonic brushstrokes on "Solid" inspire Rollins to really dig in and shout.
The quintet represented on this album is widely regarded as being one of the most exciting and effective of the Fifties, even though the majority of its work did not come to light until that decade was over. The apparent paradox in that statement is resolved by the fact that this was primarily a recording unit, and although its participants have appeared together publicly in various combinations (most notably Red Garland and John Coltrane), a Red Garland quintet such as is represented here on this record was never a regular working unit.