Not every parent can be so lucky. This sophomore semester Ivi was accepted into her high school's Jazz Band and an ongoing assignment for the term is to listen to and write reviews or analyses of at least nine jazz recordings, preferably "older classics".
When Ivi started with the Evil Saxophone two or three years ago, I immediately and enthusiastically introduced her to Charlie Parker, et. al. from my own collection. Although she seemed a bit nonplussed at the time, actually playing in a jazz band now has really turned her. "Jazz band: I love it, LOVE it, L-O-V-E it!", she recently waxed the other day. So when she told me of her ongoing assignment and asked me for my help in making selections, I jumped at the chance. First up were four of my favorites (which Ivi had never heard):
Miles Davis: Sketches of Spain
John Coltrane: My Favorite Things
Herbie Mann: At The Village Gate
Miles Davis: Kind of Blue
In one evening, Ivi sat down -- and in an unprecedented move, I let her use my favorite, personal headphones! -- and attacked the first three on the list before she went to bed at around midnight. A sample of her thoughts, this on the Coltrane, follows:
“My Favorite Things”
This cover of “My Favorite Things” bore only fleeting resemblance to the original piece. Still, it was fantastic. I liked how he played the melody with the same few variations and just shuffled the articulations. There were a lot of emphatic licks closely followed by a more dulcet rendition of the same. The contrast was pleasant. From time to time, the snare would accent the final notes of the piano line, which had a lot of impact. The piano’s dynamics reminded me of an encroaching car: soft from far away, then it gets louder and louder and louder before it fades away into the distance. As the piano gamboled about in the happy throes of solo making, the countermelody all but disappeared amongst the jazzy tenutos. It reemerged eventually, but I thought it should have come sooner. The piano solo was brilliant, but became repetitive after the first several minutes. The saxophone and piano had a downward and an upward fall, respectively, and when they were done at the same time, it was gorgeous. The sax, now improvising up a storm, has an agreeable, talkative sort of tone. Finally, he reverts to the familiar “when the dog bites…” refrain. The song ends with a vivacious crescendo and a drum roll that serves an unintuitive purpose. Rather than building the anticipation, the drum roll releases it.
“Everytime We Say Goodbye”
In this song, I think the saxophone and piano complimented each other particularly well. They each had an interesting part, at least. Once the saxophone withdrew, the tempo picked up and the balance shifted. The bass took on the role of the piano and the piano took on the focal role of the saxophone. The piano, as newly inaugurated lead, opted not to play the melody as its predecessor had, but rather improvised loops around the bass and drums. It really was an excellent solo. I really liked the bass in this portion of the song as well. He played his notes to the familiar cadence of a heartbeat, which was a good support for the wild solo he backed. Finally, the sax reentered and the piano returned to his duty of playing the same five or six chords over and over. As the piece slowed, the pianist played an ascending chromatic scale that was positively magical. The ending of the song was, for want of a better word, sparkly.
“Summertime”
The beginning of this song was very bold, even harsh. The saxophone relaxed a bit after the introduction, but still spat out notes fast enough for them to be dangerous projectiles. The rhythm section hushes up periodically while the sax whinnies in the foreground. It is a technically impressive solo, but I think Coltrane was so busy reveling his skill that he forgot to make the solo pleasant to listen to. The notes he reaches are incredibly fast/high, and he manages to articulate them all without fail. But this does not a pretty solo make. It just sounds like an extravagant mess. When the piano slams down a bunch of sequential minor chords, it reminded me of the classic “suspense” music in movies. The bass played a constant barrage of quarter notes that was routinely accented by a rimshot from the ever-helpful drummer, which I thought had a lot of impact. The bass imitates the sax’s several strands of descending scale tones, and makes them sound better than their inspiration. After that, the saxophone dropped out temporarily and the drummer goes on a soloing rampage. I rather liked how he built this solo. He started with just a few short, separate phrases per bar with the bass and piano interrupting every few beats. After a while, he discards the piano and solos solidly for about 30 seconds, with only slight protest from the other two players. The sequence was reminiscent of a choreographed fight scene. Finally, the saxophone returns to keep the peace and the band members settle back into the old melody without argument. I didn’t like that the music just faded out in the end. It didn’t feel complete. I didn’t want to dislike this song.
“But Not For Me”
This song felt very laid back compared to previous pieces. The staccato chords in the piano do a good job of offsetting the lilting, slurred sax solo. At one point, the piano randomly plays a note in a familiar lick an octave up. I was unable to see a musical reason for such a leap, but it amused me. There are a lot of long, tense pauses in this piece that I really like. These are more or less “fill-in-the-blank” spots. This piece is absolutely littered with mini-solos. I loved the effortless way the pianist switched between picking out individual notes to playing chord after chord after chord. Perhaps I am easily impressed, though. The bass had a good solo at some point, but it wasn’t terribly memorable. However, the saxophone solo was. This solo, to me, was pretty near perfection. I adored the saucy phrasing; if the phrases were English sentences each one would end with a sarcastic question mark. He ends with a sonorous low note, which I think gave great closure to the CD.
I am queueing up more albums for the weeks to follow, probably including:
Miles Davis and others: Birth of the Cool
Dave Brubeck: Time Out
Charlie Parker: Boss Bird
Billie Holiday: Lady In Satin
John Coltrane: Blue Train
Cannonball Adderley: Somethin' Else
Charles Mingus: Mingus Ah Um
Yusef Lateef: Eastern Sounds
There's more, but it is on old vinyl , some of which may need to be replaced due to sadly deteriorated condition: a ton of Nina Simone, some Louis Armstrong, as well as Stan Getz, Gerry Mulligan and others. This weekend I may try to rip from vinyl and digitize as FLACs a 1957 Jonah Jones: Muted Jazz and 70s-era Leroy Jenkins: Solo Concert for Ivi's convenience at her computer, maybe MP3s for her player, too.
I thought I might be able to get the Ken Burns circa 2000 history of jazz TV series from Netflix, but it looks like I may have to buy that one -- as a set of 10 DVDs -- instead. Seems like this should be part of her education, too ,,,
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