AOTW Oct 23-29 - Oliver Nelson

[sidewinder]

'Afro American Sketches' is also absolutely superb. I would rate that one next in line after 'BATAT' in terms of overall quality, I think. Again, magnificently recorded.

Just spinning the original stereo pressing of 'Blues'. Grabs you by the throat from the outset and Haynes' timekeeping and groove is remarkable.

[JSngry]

That's some deep thinking, Jim. Hell, it's brilliant too and AFAIK unique to you.

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Well, I don't know about all that, but Oliver Nelson is a guy who began fascinating me since I had the chance to play in a college rehearsal band that was led by a guy who, by striking up a friendship with Nelson's widow, had managed to get copies of some of Nelson's original big band charts. These charts were enigmatic in a way - at once sunny and bright, while at the same time being full of really dissonant, emotionally ambiguous voicings. You'd play these things, and sitting "inside" the sound as you do when playing in a section, and think, "Wow, wtf IS this?".

Prior to that, I'd know of Nelson through this week's AOTW and a lot of the arrangements he did for Verve and othsr labels, and other than BATAT, nothing had really struck me as being particularly deep. But now, having gotten a clue as to where the "clues" might be buried, I began to listen closer and, the Prestige album withstand, broader to Nelson's work. It kind of became a "quest" of mine for a little while, to try and get a handle on just who this guy was who could write the music for The Six Million Man and Black Brown & Beautiful. No "easy" answer has yet to be reached, but that might well be the point, if you know what I mean.

A real sleeper, imo, is the small group portion of Sound Pieces, especially the reading of "The Shadow Of Your Smile". What the hell is that all about?

[Alexander Hawkins]

I agree to an extent that there's something pent-up about Nelson's playing - and that should he have let go, there may have been 'scorched earth'. But more of what I hear is 'composer's' playing. Architectural (not in any grandiose sense) and ordered; but also perhaps slightly formulaic and rehearsed. The playing on 'Stolen Moments' illustrates this for me: I find his easily the weakest solo.

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Objectively, I agree with this. Subjectively, though, I have a different impression. I listen to Nelson's playing here and ask myself why, of all the things that he could have played, why did he play this? And, of all the ways that he could have played it, why did he play it this way? What's the message here?

Of course, that's what we all do, at one level or another, with all music. That's the essence of communication - hearing a message and deciding whether or not we hear it, and then, if we do, figuring out what it means to us. Usually, it happens instantaneously, without any consciousness involved. We either get it or we don't, and that's that.

But Nelson's playing here (and elsewhere) is so "layered" with implications beyond the immediate settings of the music that such an "easy" response has not been possible for me. What I've come to hear in it, finally, is an embodiment of the fundamental American conflicts - "Black" vs "White", "trained" vs "street", "spontaneous" over "planned", "commercial" vs "art", on and on and on. These are the conflicts that have created the friction within American jazz once it became "more" than a "folk music", and they are conflicts that exist to this day. I'd even go so far to say that they are conflicts that exist in all levels of American society, as is witnessed by fascination of so many White people with Black culture, a fascination that often enough leads to ghettoization and unfortunate stereotypes based on a shallow comprehension of the depths of what is being experienced, but also a fascination that exists precisely because there is a contrasting, for lack of a better term, "ethos", a different take between cultures on processing the information provided by the same stimuli and situations. This "cross-pollination" has been at the root of jazz, even when it was a "folk music", and it's also been the "story of America" in a lot of ways.

The thing about Nelson is that, unlike so may others, he doesn't take sides. He's as likely to play a solo on a blues, such as the one on "Stolen Moments", that is more rooted in a European "classical" sensibility than it is in anything else. And he does it without a sense of irony, parody, or any other "signifier" that tells us what we "should" feel/think. Conversely, when he plays in a more overtly "jazz" fashion, his playing is also, usually, devoid of the obvious emotional shortcuts. He obviously has mastered the language, and he obviously understands its deepest meanings, but he doesn't in any way embrace them as being the defining elements of "who he is".

So who is he? That's the question, and its one that Nelson often appears to answer by not even considering the question valid, as it seems to have had no real answer. He could, and very often did, write extremely commercial arrangements that often bordered on generic, yet. paradoxically, they always sounded like Oliver Nelson. Conversely, he could write deeply personal, moody in the extreme pieces, and they too always sounded like Oliver Nelson. The same applies to his playing as well.

In Oliver Nelson's work, I inevitably hear the question of "Who am I?" answered as "I am everything and I am nothing. I can be anything at any time." I also hear the inevitable follow-up question of "What does this mean to me?" answered with "It means everything and it means nothing. It is what it is." Inevitability and ambiguity exist in equal measure and resolution to the fundamental conflict is never sought, perhaps because none is to be found, at least not for/inside Oliver Nelson. "Everything" & "nothing" is all there is to be found, and in the end, there's really no difference between the two. Not for/in Oliver Nelson.

That is "The Blues", and that is "The Abstract Truth".

So

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Jim, that's certainly made me think a lot.

I agree that those relationships you talk of are useful ways of thinking about lots of music, and about (aspects of) society in general. If I understand you correctly, I also agree with your general conclusion 'nevitability and ambiguity exist in equal measure and resolution to the fundamental conflict is never sought, perhaps because none is to be found'. 'Because none is to be found' is perhaps the key bit here: your pairings (e.g. art/commercialisation) don't all exist in truly dialectical relationships. We might even agree that a lot of the time, the 'artistic' and the 'commercial' do exist as polar opposites, but it seems clear that this is not necessarily the case. Hence Nelson's output is coherently understood simply by asserting his sincerity - there is no logical inconsistency in his variegated output; what we're remarking on is the empirical rarity of musicians who move as successfully between various genres as he does.

I think the 'family resemblances' concept is also useful for understanding musicians like Nelson. Certainly, there are different contextual forces at play in his various big band/progressive small group/bop/blues blowing session (etc.) settings - but there remains a recognisable core which is him. In a sense, the sincere musician doesn't consciously have to negotiate those of your pairings which are not necessarily discrete since in fact they throw-up no logical inconsistencies (although I readily concede that this argument probably plays out better in theory than in practice).

If this is the case, then Nelson sounds like he does not because he consciously grapples with the issues represented by those pairings, but for simpler (and less mystical) reasons such as that he 'plays it as he hears it' (i.e. reasons that we would associate with many improvisers). This thesis has good explanatory force, I think, because it doesn't suggest that Nelson is somehow different to almost every other improviser. Of course, none of this denies that the tensions you identify are crucial background features in the improviser's decision-making environment.

FWIW, I think the tension between the individual and the collective is also another one pertinent to understanding jazz. I suppose the obvious substantiation of this is in the solo/collective improvisation relationship; but also it maybe provides one way of understanding the complaint directed towards a soloist that they play 'arranger's' alto/tenor/whatever.

One implication of your comments I was particularly interested in was that jazz had moved beyond being a folk music...I'm not sure I agree or disagree (and in any case, am not sure how relevant my curiosity is), but in what way is jazz no longer a folk music?

[JSngry]

'Afro American Sketches' is also absolutely superb. I would rate that one next in line after 'BATAT' in terms of overall quality, I think.

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Have you heard Black Brown & Beautiful? The original, not the mistitled Bluebird compilation CD? I'm wondering how it "ranks" in comparison to that one. No matter, I'm going to have to check out the Prestige date.

On a more trivial note, I have to say that although the cover used on the CD is, as I found out a few years ago, the original, it pales for me in comparison to the later cover, the one which several generations know as "the" cover.

This smaller, digital reproduction doesn't do it justice, but the LP-sized image of a bluish-tinted Nelson, looking out on the world with a look of totally objective weariness, framed/propped up by fingers that at once suggest prison bars, weapons of warfare, cathedral steeples, and tools of passionately dispassionate creativity that at once records history and comments on it, with "documentation" to the rear of him and nothing but a record to be pulled out and listened to in front of him is one of the all-time great album covers. Certainly one of the most provocative. Does the CD reissue at least include it?

[JSngry]

Jim, that's certainly made me think a lot.

I agree that those relationships you talk of are useful ways of thinking about lots of music, and about (aspects of) society in general. If I understand you correctly, I also agree with your general conclusion 'nevitability and ambiguity exist in equal measure and resolution to the fundamental conflict is never sought, perhaps because none is to be found'. 'Because none is to be found' is perhaps the key bit here: your pairings (e.g. art/commercialisation) don't all exist in truly dialectical relationships. We might even agree that a lot of the time, the 'artistic' and the 'commercial' do exist as polar opposites, but it seems clear that this is not necessarily the case. Hence Nelson's output is coherently understood simply by asserting his sincerity - there is no logical inconsistency in his variegated output; what we're remarking on is the empirical rarity of musicians who move as successfully between various genres as he does.

I think the 'family resemblances' concept is also useful for understanding musicians like Nelson. Certainly, there are different contextual forces at play in his various big band/progressive small group/bop/blues blowing session (etc.) settings - but there remains a recognisable core which is him. In a sense, the sincere musician doesn't consciously have to negotiate those of your pairings which are not necessarily discrete since in fact they throw-up no logical inconsistencies (although I readily concede that this argument probably plays out better in theory than in practice).

If this is the case, then Nelson sounds like he does not because he consciously grapples with the issues represented by those pairings, but for simpler (and less mystical) reasons such as that he 'plays it as he hears it' (i.e. reasons that we would associate with many improvisers). This thesis has good explanatory force, I think, because it doesn't suggest that Nelson is somehow different to almost every other improviser. Of course, none of this denies that the tensions you identify are crucial background features in the improviser's decision-making environment.

FWIW, I think the tension between the individual and the collective is also another one pertinent to understanding jazz. I suppose the obvious substantiation of this is in the solo/collective improvisation relationship; but also it maybe provides one way of understanding the complaint directed towards a soloist that they play 'arranger's' alto/tenor/whatever.

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Perfectly understood, and the only reason I can't hear it exactly like that is simply because I hear a depth (in both degree and "meaning") of "tension" that runs throughout Nelson's work that I don't hear in others who "genre hop" to the extent that he did. But I'll freely admit that that's just how I hear it, that's what it stirs up in me, not that that's "really" what's there.

[JSngry]

One implication of your comments I was particularly interested in was that jazz had moved beyond being a folk music...I'm not sure I agree or disagree (and in any case, am not sure how relevant my curiosity is), but in what way is jazz no longer a folk music?

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Making a distinction between A)source materials and B)processes, intent, and final result, I'll answer that by asking you this - Was Jelly Roll Morton "folk music"?

[Soul Stream]

Haven't read ALL the posts, so this might have been brought up.

But, to me, another star of the show here is RVG. I mean, this is one of the best sounding sessions of all time. That's a big reason why I love this session so much. Rudy really did it on this one. Beautiful.

[Jim R]

On a more trivial note, I have to say that although the cover used on the CD is, as I found out a few years ago, the original, it pales for me in comparison to the later cover, the one which several generations know as "the" cover.

This smaller, digital reproduction doesn't do it justice, but the LP-sized image of a bluish-tinted Nelson, looking out on the world with a look of totally objective weariness, framed/propped up by fingers that at once suggest prison bars, weapons of warfare, cathedral steeples, and tools of passionately dispassionate creativity that at once records history and comments on it, with "documentation" to the rear of him and nothing but a record to be pulled out and listened to in front of him is one of the all-time great album covers. Certainly one of the most provocative. Does the CD reissue at least include it?

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Jim, first of all thank you for your posts here (ALL of them). I've read your thoughts/perceptions of Nelson before, but the way you've tied it all together here with relation to his Impulse classic is... a great way to spend a Saturday morning.

Regardng this "trivia", perhaps it's not so trivial after all. Again, you've provided brain food. I've always thought that the cover you posted was as classic as the recording, but I had never really analyzed it.

For me, there's always been some confusion about the cover for this album. The LP that I had was weird, and I parted with it so long ago that I can't really remember it clearly. All I know is that the disc had a promo label, and the jacket was was odd- I think it was backwards, with the cover image on the back side of the foldout. I think. I probably had a rare $2,000 LP . At any rate, the CD I have (MCA, 1986) has the great photo of Nelson (albeit with "MCA Impulse" in front of his forehead). After all these years I had forgotten all about the other cover, and thought of this as the original.

[Michael Fitzgerald]

I agree that all those things were in there somewhere in Nelson's mind when it came to the "Stolen Moments" solo, but I think we have to remember that he was a composer and arranger and that this was his album (his debut on a brand new record label too), with all his planning and control.

So, he's got this piece, a minor blues variant that he had already recorded with Lockjaw Davis. Maybe people had heard it, maybe not. Obviously he couldn't know that the impulse! recording was going to be an all-time classic. But he did know that while the head was going to be nearly identical, he had some different soloists to deal with. I think it is important to look at how he structured the remaining minutes between the heads. He's got the hottest trumpeter of the day, Freddie Hubbard. He's got Eric Dolphy - with whom he'd already recorded a few times for Prestige. Everybody digs Bill Evans. And he's got himself. How is he going to use all these resources to best advantage?

Think about why the soloists come in the order that they do. I believe this was carefully considered, not just a series of whoever happened to step up to the microphone first.

Coming out of a pretty calm piece, Hubbard is going to heat things up. His first chorus starts off assertively, but slow with some longer notes. He leaves space and uses dynamic contrast effectively. The second and third choruses are, to me, a Miles Davis allusion (the hard-swinging opening phrase of the second chorus and the one-note rhythmic stuff of the third chorus) contrasted with the brilliant long bebop lines that are building to what happens in the fourth chorus. There he goes into the arpeggio thing - not the most creative in terms of melodic line, but remember the arrangement and the overall plan. It's perfect. This is a Hubbard-ism that made his style (like his chromatic lip slurs from later periods). After this climax, Hubbard brings things down, but the potential excitement level has been established. By the end, we are ready for Dolphy.

Dolphy plays alto on the head, but had he soloed on alto I don't think it would have worked as well for the piece (and for the popularity, as I mentioned before). Flute is the perfect contrast in terms of timbre and register. It's a contrast to Hubbard, and it's a contrast to what we haven't yet heard - we don't know it, but Nelson of course does. Dolphy is double-timing from the start and there's not much let up. His approach doesn't use the kind of clear motives that Hubbard (and later Nelson) use. It's a very different effect. BTW, bass clarinet would be a contrast too, but would be closer to tenor in range. I like how the flute clears the aural palate of low and middle register sounds so that it's fresh when the tenor happens.

After Dolphy winds down (notice he only takes three choruses compared to four for Hubbard - I think any more would have been counterproductive to the performance as a whole), Nelson then comes out with his which uses the entire range of the tenor, from the lowest to the altissimo. His first chorus is all based on a motive: a slow three-note idea that emphasizes the 11th of the chords. The second chorus turns the three notes into arpeggios (remember Hubbard's fourth chorus) but as opposed to Hubbard lip-flexibility technical approach, Nelson uses rhythm - playing faster and displacing triplets against the steady backing of the rhythm section. He also is building with range - going up for the concert G (above the standard range of the tenor) just for a moment. After hitting it, he continues with the triplets, shifting them to fit the chords - like playing the concert E-flat, G-flat, and B-flat against the G7 - very striking.

The third chorus stresses the 9th of the chords with long held notes. Rhythmically this is a reminder of the first chorus - but the range is much higher. In the fourth bar, he returns to that altissimo concert G, the highest note of the solo, and holds it for two and a half bars. After this, it's major triads, but descending - as opposed to the ascending minor triads that were prominent in the second chorus. His use of chromatics here is interesting (B-flat triad, A-flat, G, G-flat, F) and sets up his "signature lick" - descending major triads spaced a major third apart. That begins the fourth chorus. (It's also what Hubbard plays on that "Bluesnik" solo at 6:00. Sonny Rollins also used it. It's the kind of thing you practice to think differently on chords and get your fingers used to playing outside the standard notes.)

Nelson concludes his solo showing more wide range use and a descending figure that is actually a permutation of his opening three note stacked fourths idea. The solo opens: G-C-F ascending and this idea is C-G-F descending. He proceeds to move this motive downwards, again with colorful chromaticism, effortlessly arriving at the tonic C (the finish line) exactly on the 13th bar of the fourth chorus and passing the baton to Bill Evans.

The piano solo is a nice break from the horns. It's just plain Bill, with plenty of diminished scale stuff and color tones on the minor chords. Again, a shorter solo with three choruses, not four.

Roy Haynes seems to wake up and stretch when the intro returns, reminding us that he's still back there. Go back and listen to how unobtrusive he and Chambers are during all the preceding solos. Mostly just straight solid time. This piece isn't about pushing the soloist and interacting but is about creating the cushion.

But why did Oliver Nelson do things the way he did? Dolphy first would be too much too soon. I believe he wanted to set up his own tenor solo as the prime featured position (third of four). His solo has the structural relationship to the original piece, it's like an extension of it, not just jamming on the minor blues. But how could that be best presented? I think pushing Hubbard up front to capture listeners' attention and then following it with the still-exotic flute was a great move. After those two, people are listening - what's going to be next? Nelson has everyone just where he wants them, in the palm of his hand. I don't think it was any accident. What could he do that was different from the other great soloists? His methodical approach. Then use Evans as the buffer between that and the return of the melody (good idea to use the introduction again too). Of all the soloists, Nelson's is the most memorable. It's clear and it's perfectly executed.

10 out of 10.

BTW, there are so many other little things like how Evans plays behind the third tenor chorus. Just right. Also note that this is the lead-off piece on side one. And oddly, it's the longest piece on the album - you might expect the "hit single" to be more concise.

This is one that I have played for students time and time again. If after the tune is over no one remembers anything about your solo, you've wasted everyone's time. With Nelson (and Hubbard to a lesser degree), you remember just about *everything* about their solos.

Mike

[mrjazzman]

The only thing that could improve this great record would be one less track--the jarring Hoe-Down.

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I agree with you, for my ears he could have left hoe-down off, that said still a GREAT, CLASSIC jazz album..............

[marcoliv]

For me, everything about this album is right:

- Great compositions, pride of place for me being 'Stolen Moments' and 'Cascades'.

- Wonderful arranging for the saxophones. As a result the band sounds a lot bigger than it actually is. The big sound contributed by Nelson on tenor and George Barrow on baritone helps immesurably.

- Phenomenal soloing by Eric Dolphy and Freddie Hubbard. Some of their best on record.

- Incredible recording. RVG manages to pin down a very cool and somewhat misterious mood (helped immensely by Roy Haynes' brushwork on the title track). Creed Taylor's finest hour as producer.

What more can I say?

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Edited October 22, 2005 by marcoliv

[cannonball-addict]

Yeah Sangrey,

The part that hit me hardest and had the most profound effect on how I now hear Nelson's sparing solo was one of the last few paragraphs. I am too lazy to quote it but it was the part about what he DID play being both "nothing and everything." That to me seems like an answer a composer might give if he were here to explain things to us, which I doubt he'd do anyways.....

Thanks for the words.

Matt

[gdogus]

As i said eralier in the thread, I'd never really gotten into this album before. Woe unto me, though, for it is truly a thing of great and prodigious goodness, as my recent listening has revealed.

I love the contrasts between Dolphy's rapid fire and and Nelson's elongated lines. All told, I think my favorite moment is Nelson's holding that LOOOOOOOOONG note in "Yearnin'."

[danasgoodstuff]

I too love this album, have for decades considered it one of the few jazz albums to have the wholeness that Kind of Blue has...and, yes, I even like "Hoe Down". Now I'm going to have to print Sangry's and everyone else's comments and go listen to it again (and again)...not that that's a bad thing, not hardly. I've staumbled through the fake book versions of "Stolen Moments' and like plaing it, but I'm quite sure I'm not getting everyhting that's there. Oliver was a talented guy but it seems like maybe he spread himself a litle too thin, for me this is head and shoulders the best of what I've heard by him, which is by no means everything...

[mikeweil]

On a more trivial note, I have to say that although the cover used on the CD is, as I found out a few years ago, the original, it pales for me in comparison to the later cover, the one which several generations know as "the" cover.

This smaller, digital reproduction doesn't do it justice, but the LP-sized image of a bluish-tinted Nelson, looking out on the world with a look of totally objective weariness, framed/propped up by fingers that at once suggest prison bars, weapons of warfare, cathedral steeples, and tools of passionately dispassionate creativity that at once records history and comments on it, with "documentation" to the rear of him and nothing but a record to be pulled out and listened to in front of him is one of the all-time great album covers. Certainly one of the most provocative. Does the CD reissue at least include it?

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Yes and no: It's reproduced in B&W but so small (1 x 1 inch) that it loses all of its impact. Thanks for pointing this out, Jim: Cuscuna used the rare mono issue cover for the CD, just because it's rare - one of the few occasion where his quest for authenticity mislead him, IMHO. I, too, first got that LP in stereo with the (Chuck Stewart?) photo cover, which is great and much more appropriate.

[Jim R]

I don't know how many times it's been reissued on CD, but there are at least two. As I said above, my 80's CD version has the Nelson photo cover.

[Alexander Hawkins]

Listening again just now...

A few more random thoughts:

1) I'm enjoying Nelson more than previously. I find his tone quite classical, for sure, but it's also got a certain fragility which makes you listen.

2) The tempo for Stolen Moments is spot on. This tune should be put on an 'endangered list', with the amount it's played at jam sessions etc. - but usually MUCH slower than this. This almost bounces at times!

3) Roy Haynes has had two great AOTW showings in as many weeks. The CRACK! he delivers at the start of Hubbard's solo on the lead-off track..!

4) Further to my comments above about preferring Evans with 'harder' drummers - I really do believe this. What's more, I think Haynes really gives it some extra during Evans' solos, as though himself mindful of the need to nail it down rhythmically when Evans plays.

[7/4]

I too love this album, have for decades considered it one of the few jazz albums to have the wholeness that Kind of Blue has...and, yes, I even like "Hoe Down". 

Interesting that you write that, because those are two albums that I feel I have to give a closer listen to.

First thing I listened to was BAT this morning, followed by two spins of Kinda now I'm midway through a spin of BAT.

Edited October 24, 2005 by 7/4

[medjuck]

A great record! And it always has reminded me of KOB. BTW can anyone post the original Lp cover? I used to have it but can 't remember exactly what it looked like.

[Jim R]

A great record!  And it always has reminded me of KOB. BTW can anyone post the original Lp cover? I used to have it  but can 't remember exactly what it looked like.

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I thought it was the image in post #1...

[Rooster_Ties]

On a more trivial note, I have to say that although the cover used on the CD is, as I found out a few years ago, the original, it pales for me in comparison to the later cover, the one which several generations know as "the" cover.

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So what's the story behind the two covers?? When was the alternate cover (above) created??

It looks like something very much from back in the day -- either that, or an incredible example of a modern day "turn back the clock"-ism.

For direct comparison...

[Michael Fitzgerald]

According to this:

http://www.dougpayne.com/pturner3.htm

It's a stereo/mono distinction - but I've also seen reference to both formats having both covers.

Mike

BTW, here's ANOTHER cover (a German reissue):

[Michael Fitzgerald]

Here's the review by Don DeMicheal, published in the December 21, 1961 issue of Down Beat, pp. 41-42.

==================

Rating: * * * *

A glance at the personnel of this album might lead one to believe this is another blowing session. It is not. Although there are good, sometimes excellent, solos on every track, Nelson's writing lifts this record out of the ordinary.

Using 12-bar blues and I Got Rhythm as points of departure, Nelson has put together six compositions that show him to be one of the important new writers. He uses various devices, depending on the mood he wishes to create.

In Stolen Moments, he uses close parallel voicing, to achieve a soothing, floating feeling, somewhat in the manner of Gil Evans. In Hoedown, he contrasts a rustic effect, similar to that used by country fiddlers, in the first part of the composition with undulating modern lines in the second.

Cascades is built on a minor-key exercise Nelson composed when he was in school. The theme, 56-bars long, put me in the mind of Lester Young's Tickletoe. Instead of returning to the original theme after the solos, Nelson introduces a 12-bar theme that is related to Stolen Moments. Yearning, made up of two sections, one of 12 bars, the other of 16, is in a Basie mode and played behind the beat, so far behind, in fact, that it sets up an uncomfortable tension in the rhythm section. Nelson has written a boppish line, played by alto and trumpet, in Butch, with tenor and baritone together acting as foil and counterbalance. Teenie's is written for two altos; blues serve as the base, but Nelson adds spice by employing dissonance and half-step transpositions.

Nelson's playing is like his writing: thoughtful, unhackneyed, and well constructed. Though their styles of playing and writing are dissimilar, there is a parallel between Nelson and Benny Golson. Both play compositionally; each writes with an over-all effect in mind; neither restricts himself to standard meter constructions.

Hubbard steals the solo honors with some of his best playing on records. The young trumpeter seems to be giving more thought to the shape of his solos than was his wont previously. In several of his solos here he alternates to advantage a series of short, punching phrases with long, flowing ones. Hubbard still has the wonderful fire of youth in his playing, but there are now moments of soberness also.

Dolphy gets off some good solos, too, his most interesting one on Yearnin'. If we can visualize most solos as being a given area that is gradually filled in by the soloist, as, say, a circle is blacked in, Dolphy, on Yearnin', seems to outline the solo area, blacking in, as it were, the space around the edge of the circle. Anyway you want to lok at it, it's a hell of a solo.

Evans is a little disappointing. Except for short solos on Butch and Teenie's, his piano solos are no more than pleasant, and there's nothing more frustrating than an excellent musician being merely pleasant.

Special commendation must go to Barrow, Haynes, and Chambers for their ensemble playing. Haynes again shows that he is one of the most adaptable and understanding of drummers; his support is excellent throughout.

Now, how about a big-band date for Nelson?

(D.DeM.)

===================

Mike

[ep1str0phy]

Listened to it again... I'm afraid that I'll just end up pressing some well-worn buttons (JSngry and co. having demolished all foundations for quaint insight).

No matter how many times I listen to it, "Stolen Moments" will always sound like the prototypical "jazz" tune. Nelson, if not as innovative as some of our other marble statues (your Dukes, Birds, Ornettes), nonetheless maintains as strong a connection to the jazz continuum as any of his peers. Nelson is both a traditionalist as well as a futurist--composing, playing in the now. "Blues and the Abstract Truth" is just another shade of "universal" blue--a dip into the collective well so wonderfully mined by other ostensible "historians" (Rahsaan, Mingus, Jaki, etc.). Just like a Mingus tune, "Stolen Moments" hits you from the first listen--it's something so familiar, so obvious that you must have heard it before. And yet, none of it sounds cliched or caricatured. See, Nelson got it right--the "magic" of the continuum stems from "emotional" (rather than "musical") commonality.

This understanding has always shocked me--and it continues to, listen after listen. "Stolen Moments"--all of "Blues...", really--has precisely those elements that most of the young lions, even streamlined "jazz" composers like Mancini, never figured out. Emotional effectiveness is a paramount arbiter of taste--regardless of how it comes across. "Blues..." exploits this perfectly. Heart-stopping simplicity is juxtaposed with dizzying rococo. The "hard blues" is infused--tainted?--with passages of mind-boggling complexity. What starts off comedic, borderline ridiculous (as with "Hoe Down"), slowly transforms into serious, dead serious, emotional sincerity (dig that Dolphy solo!).

I mean, look at the players on this date (Barrow notwithstanding--although his contributions are important). It's the full spectrum: Eric Dolphy to Bill Evans. Stark, unchaste, utterly indominable explosiveness on the one hand, rarefied, noirish, almost nerdy cool on the other... but it's all apart of a larger, more important scheme. The lesser tendencies, the "attributes", are superficial--but there's a common strand in the communion of music-making that implies, maybe affirms, that Dolphy and Evans are one and the same.

What prevents this affair from becoming some horrid postmodern mishmash is its cognizance of "feeling", rather than "feel". Nelson got it. The writing chops, the intelligence, it's all there... but (to codify a generally simplistic rant) "it don't mean a thing..." (finish it for me, folks).

And yes... Nelson is a bitch of a saxophonist.

Edited October 24, 2005 by ep1str0phy

[7/4]

What starts off comedic, borderline ridiculous (as with "Hoe Down"), slowly transforms into serious, dead serious, emotional sincerity (dig that Dolphy solo!).

Yeah, the solos make the tune.

And think...the first time I heard this was the Keith Emerson version.