198. Frank Wess / Opus in Swing (1956)

This pianoless quintet led by the flute of Frank Wess also lacks his other instrument, the alto sax. Accordingly, he's in top form whether it's pounding high notes in the blue gloom of "Southern Exposure" or adding harmonic color to the serpentine leads of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." Also moonlighting from the Basie Band are Eddie Jones and Freddie Green who keep time with Kenny Clarke so tight it's telepathic. The quintet excels in the same music that Basie's bands made famous. Like Basie's, their combo has an undeniable group dynamic, but every man is heard as his own solo artist. Together, they drive the music with one mind, then shine forth as individuals during the moments when one man stands alone. It's impossible to appreciate one quality without noticing the other. Kenny Burrell is notable. Listen to "East Wind." Green trades chording for a more pianolike approach that walks, while Klook keeps time with the cymbals and Wess sketches the heavy mood with dense vibrato. When he lays out, Burrell bursts the seams with bluesy runs and relevant single note phrases that underscore the character of the melody and polish the rhythm. It's choice stuff, a potent brew of Kansas City swing that has been seasoned with the developments of postwar New York.

197. Steely Dan / Gaucho (1980)

Gaucho is the last album before the Dan's 12 year hiatus. It's the capstone of the original run, a grooving foil to Aja's majestic sophistication, and the proverbial semibreve rest in the ongoing saga of the Becker/Fagen partnership. Instead of trying to reinvent the wheel, Gaucho swaps Aja's complexity for simple charts and chill vibrations that recall classic rock, rhythm, and soul. Here, the down tempo is on tap and the beats play straight ahead.  Hear "Babylon Sisters" shimmer with rich sonority, lush background vocals and immaculately layered overdubs, and you get the picture. Gaucho is also notable for the drum machine (engineer Roger Nichols' "Wendel") lending additional consistency to the already smooth track sequence. If you like Steely Dan, then chances are you won't be disappointed by the fare on Gaucho. But at the same time, while these are unmistakably "Steely" tunes, I think it is also the most stylistically distinct album in the catalog. As always, make of that what you will.

196. Buddy Collette / Live from the Nation's Capital (2000)

Buddy Collette was an originator on the West Coast jazz scene. He cofounded the Chico Hamilton Quintet and devoted his time to education, as well as composing and performing. This live disc from 2000 captures a Collette program for the ages, and its disparate contents cover the arc of his career. Performance and audio production are slick, typical of groups billed on the national stage. There is a lot to enjoy. Professionalism aptly describes the soloists, who play snappy, expressive lines that don't disrupt the cascading harmonies. Arrangements are by several including Collette. No matter the arranger, though, the playlist is unified by breaking the group into combos, building tension, and using the whole ensemble for bursts of energized dramatics. Nothing new under sun as far as big band goes (Gerald Wilson or Sam Rivers orchs are more my style) but the infectious bounce on tracks like "Mr. and Mrs. Goodbye" hold a warm sentimentality for a bygone era while others, like the Afro-Cuban rhythm of "Andre" or improvs on "Blues #4" keep the pace and make good use of variety. Live from the Nation's Capital isn't the most essential big band record in my collection, but it offers a lot of good stuff and demonstrates (in a very straight way) the wide array of styles that Collette worked in throughout his career.

Too hot.

I always feel irritated when a blogger I like apologizes for being too busy to post. It's completely unnecessary to tell me that! So I'd like to give you, faithful readers, the same opportunity to roll your eyes. I've been working a chaotic new schedule while listening mostly to Miles Davis, bluegrass, and reggae. I have no time to review records but I'll try to add some updates here in the coming days.

In the meantime, hang out with the Specials.

195. Jazz Anecdotes by Bill Crow (1991)

This music we have come to call jazz is long and storied, its course determined by thousands of musicians, singers, bandleaders, producers, patrons, and hangers on. Music is more than harmonically related pitches that sound off in regularly timed intervals. It's a living and growing mode of expression, a self-description of our culture. a sentimental record of our times. Bill Crow's Jazz Anecdotes is exactly what the title implies. Drawn from many sources, readers are treated to a rich assortment of personal recollections, rumors, legends, inside jokes, and more than a few stories with very long legs. In his introduction, Crow shares a fundamental truth about storytelling: every good tale has a life of its own, eclipsing even the storyteller. In this way, real or imagined, the contents of Crow's compendium leap right off the pages, straight into the annals of popular culture. I'll equate jazz with my favorite sport, baseball. A listener can enjoy a song without knowing the musicians much like how a spectator can enjoy a ballgame without knowing too much about the players. But understanding the personal dimension of their collective small-game and their colorful arc of backstory enriches the experience tenfold. If you stay interested for your entire life, it's more than 18 guys on a diamond. The sport actually fulfills the obligation of a cultural phenomenon in which the spectator is a willing participant in the creation of its legend.

But back to jazz... Through Crow's work, which is subdivided into manageable sections covering certain musicians or styles, or certain aspects of being a musician, you get all the behind-the-scenes gossip, juicy tidbits, and wild memories of the women and men who made the music happen. In other words, the material is so vivid, it's as if the subjects are right there in the room, talking to you. In his acknowledgements, Crow thanks Nat Hentoff, whose book Hear Me Talkin' to Ya is a similar work that bears mention here. Likewise, and with a stronger recommendation for its beautiful prose and sense of relational self identity, please see Living with Music: Ralph Ellison's Jazz Writings. I'll close by saying this: When I put the book in the nightdrop and left it there to resume a lonely life on the shelf for two or three more years, whenever the next patron should come along, I actually said goodbye. Startlingly, as I drove off in my car, I felt like someone heard me.

194. Louis Jordan & His Tympany Five / Choo Choo Ch'Boogie (1999)

Choo Choo Ch'Boogie is another terrific compilation of golden era R&B from the ASV/Living Era imprint. Jordan was a versatile vocalist whose act ran the gamut from vaudeville to jump to gut-busting blues. His smooth delivery and expertise with turning a phrase took dancers from cutting figures on the floor to falling down laughing. He was also an altoist with a nimble technique whose reserve of power drew comparisons to Earl Bostic. The set is a good representation of his repertoire from 1940-1947. In crisp audio, it includes famous numbers like his own "Caldonia," "Five Guys Named Moe," or "Let The Good Times Roll." But the playlist also has novelties like the hilarious calypso with Ella Fitzgerald (both ex-Chick Webb), "Stone Cold in de Market" or "What's the Use of Getting Sober (When You're Gonna Get Drunk Again)?" No stranger to the drink whose wife Fleecie twice tried to kill him by stabbing, Jordan sings these with confidence! His blues are followed by his alto, with nary a breath between verse and chorus. "Ration Blues," "Somebody Done Changed The Lock on My Door" and "Ain't that Just Like a Woman," show Jordan working his charm with sly double meaning and steamy intent. Fans of early rock and roll or Chicago blues will appreciate Jordan's work, and this is a fine place to start. Babs Gonzales, Slim Gaillard, King Pleasure, all similar.

193. Mads Vinding Trio / Daddio Don (1998)

A while back, I recommended an album with Mads Vinding to a friend who loves the upright bass. It's his favorite instrument. We chatted about the Danish bassist and both agreed he's a hard one to not like. A few weeks later he gave me some CDs that, for whatever reason, didn't pan out for him the way he expected. It happens. But I was thrilled because among them was Daddio Don. I listened to it for the rest of the afternoon before promoting it to a coveted spot in the rotation of my daily commute. Vinding is impossible to keep up with, the tireless recording and performing artist for whom the word "prolific" seems inadequate. He's all over the map, discographically speaking, but always right where you need him with the soulful interplay, keen rhythmical knack, and melodic inventions that surpass keeping time for the time's sake. He has a sixth sense for interplay, or a humble ear for the group dynamic, always listening to what the other musicians are doing. I appreciate his earnest touch with the blues and immediate facility for navigating uptempo and bebop that remind me of Ray Brown (another favorite musician). His choruses are not boring, they're more like short songs. To paraphrase C. Michael Bailey's piece for AllAboutJazz.com, Vinding is like the Nordic George Mraz, expressing himself with a confident stride and robust tone that tricks the ear into hearing a full rhythm section where none is present. The trio is comprised of Vinding, drummer Alex Riel, and pianist Roger Kellaway. Kellaway has a sensitive understanding of the piano's dynamics, and moves with irresistible swing.

Image courtesy of soundcloud

More importantly, Kellaway has a penchant for odd time signatures (the album is titled for Don Ellis), and all three musicians are comfortable breezing through meters like Kellaway's "Seven," or Thad Jones' "A Child is Born" in 11/8. Riel's timekeeping is sumptuously alert. His dreamy brush work is punctuated by pertinent, percussive accents and taut interjections on the snare that make the emotive and pensive, often introspective set as lush and flush as a well arranged quintet. "How Deep is the Ocean" is intriguing, demonstrating the shared chemistry of the trio. It's a touch faster than is typical, and the order of its open sections are negotiated as you hear them. It typifies the musical cooperation which is the album's hallmark. If you're the type of listener that enjoys quiet spaces with tricky corners, a shared creation of three musicians that reveals the sheer clumsiness of language when describing a mere "piano" trio, then Daddio Don needs to be on your list. And if you try it but you don't enjoy it, perhaps you can pass it on to a friend.

192. John Scofield - A Moment's Peace (2011)

Like any other artist, John Scofield is no stranger to the ballad, which is amply represented in his back catalog and live repertoire. But A Moment's Peace is the guitarists first album consisting entirely of ballads (Scofield's albums are big on themes, anyway). It's a really enjoyable set of standards with Brian Blade, Larry Goldings, and Scott Colley on hand to help out. They deserve congratulations because while anybody will recognize these tunes, when the band locks in with Sco in the lead for emotive rushes like "I Want to Talk About You," or the slippery bends and bluesy explorations of "Gee Baby Ain't I Good to You," it's still pure magic, despite the age of the music. Scofield's guitar is heard in a judiciously reverberant, tone saturated signal that is occasionally augmented by simple effects like tremolo, or Scofield rolling the volume knob for shading and dynamics. I love that technique, especially when Blade is playing sympathetically, and Goldings starts to use the draw bars in the same track... the cumulative effect of both instruments pulsing together creates a blissfully disorienting sonic texture that shimmers like light reflecting on a water surface. A Moment's Peace was good when I heard it three years ago, and it is getting better. Highly recommended.

191. Fred Hersch - Alone at the Vanguard (2011)

Hersch plays in his characteristically slick and lyrical style in this collection of live, solo recordings. The gently meandering set is just over an hour long but was culled from an entire week of performances at the Vanguard in  2010. Hersch's back catalog of superb trio records has given him all the leeway that could be expected from the trio format, but alone, he is free to wander a little farther from the yard, in both time and route, as with Sonny Rollins' "Doxy," or the elegant salute to Thelonious Monk's "Work." In the absence of the drums and bass, he develops sweeping melodic arcs in each piece, and displays refined senses of harmony and dynamics. With several numbers he tips his hat to inspiration from friends and figures like Robert Schumann, Bill Frisell, and Lee Konitz. My favorite piece is the disc's opener that I know as a favorite Frank Sinatra song (although it has been covered countless times since). "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning" is rendered so poignantly as to touch the emotional depth achieved by Sinatra on the 1955 album.

190. Erroll Garner / Jazz 'Round Midnight (1991)

Compilations from Jazz 'Round Midnight are usually good, and while this one is no exception, it tends to be monopolized by downtempo ballads. Across 16 tracks, listeners hear Garner's solo and trio recordings from the mid '40s and '50s. You get the basic idea -- contrasts of soft with loud, twinkling arpeggios from the right hand, chord tracing from the left. But the towering crescendos and dizzying excitement that so frequently come up when people talk about Garner seem missing. Things heat up a little in "I've Got The World On A String" and especially "Part Time Blues". Garner's punchy rhythmic accents and huge, bluesy blocks remind me of why I love the piano of Duke Ellington and Oscar Peterson. While I appreciate them for the variety, I want more. None of this, however, should detract from the stately beauty of "I Can't Get Started" or "Misty." As Garner is one of those pianists who has been anthologized and repackaged a thousand times, this installment could be worth passing over. But in a lot of other ways it's a good one for the car, for after a hard day, or for audiences that are unlikely to gripe about the track sequence as I have. I almost forgot to mention the last track, a 10:42 solo take of "Over the Rainbow." It leaves me spellbound and feeling guilty for taking issue with any of the above.

189. Donald Fagen / Morph the Cat (2006)

Morph the Cat is a good representative of the Donald Fagen solo catalog. It is every yard a Fagen product whose pristine sonics and glossy group choruses recall the perfectionist grandeur of Aja and underplayed soul vamps of Gaucho or Nightfly. I prefer the guitar on Morph by Wayne Krantz, his variety of techniques and effects, to the guitars heard on Sunken Condos. Fagen also rocks the Fender Rhodes, ringing in that classic Steely Dan sound. Some lyrical themes nod in the direction of the aged, slyly morose matters explored further on Condos. But at this stage, our heroes, perhaps, aren't as willingly resigned to their fates as they will be in 2012. Some of these characters make the best of the New World Order, however, swaggering into the 21st century as if it were still 1975. Like the guy who picks up the TSA girl in "Security Joan." Fagen is the only living writer other than Murakami who can write a guy into a one night stand at the airport. But they're not all success stories. Former showbiz kids make jaundiced appearances in songs like "The Night Belongs to Mona," or the the unwitting pokes whose night vices all lead them to meet the man in the "Brite Nightgown." You'll be in familiar company with the motley assortment, and all nine tracks are rendered in sparkling audio.

188. John Lewis / Evolution II (2000)

When he recorded Evolution II, Lewis had long since achieved the accomplishments that would define his impact on jazz. But saying as much is unfair for this man. I scratch my head and marvel, open my ears and let the piano fill them with knowledge. His technique is still surprising, oscillating from arranged structures to improvised heavy swing. Here he reinterprets his own pieces in three separate continua: a gleaning from the past, the import of the present, and the dictates of his present moment. It shrugs at commercial boxes like "pop," "classical," or "jazz" by exposing commonalities in the ineffable and truly nameless thing that we call "music." As always, it points in a new direction. Maybe a little like Paul Desmond, his understated touch can miss you the first time, then devastate the second. Like Ahmad Jamal, he understands the penetrating effects of silence and balance. Or like Mingus, depth allows for endless reimagining. The meandering stroll down memory lane seeks unexplored areas of familiar paths. Whether the march from "Trieste," for instance, "Winter Tale" or the unmistakable strains of "Django," this effort proves that without Milt, another MJQ was impossible, but Lewis' mission would continue. Kudos to Lewis Nash, whose complex, articulate and just brilliant drumming puts all the pieces in place.

187. The Complete Jazz at the Philharmonic on Verve, 1944-1949 (1998)

After being evicted, in a word, from Los Angeles' Philharmonic Auditorium in 1946, Norman Granz retained his revue's catchy name and took the show on the road. For the next several years, various incarnations of "Jazz at the Philharmonic" played for audiences across Europe and North America. The historically important concerts were recorded and released, pimples and all. In fact, they represent some of the first commercial "live" albums ever made. Some were broadcasted on big radio stations, and extensive touring allowed audiences in isolated locales to see performers who never would have reached them. A notable feature of the Philharmonic lineups was that they juxtaposed veterans of the swing era with younger players of bebop. Rosters included Slim Gaillard, Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins, Charlie Parker, Roy Eldridge, Illinois Jacquet, Billie Holiday, Gene Krupa, Hank Jones, Ray Brown.... too many to list them all here. These styles were often in stiff opposition, and their players unlikely to play together. Stories abound of the politics wrought by the odd marriage of styles. I've read critics who fault Granz for "forcing" jams and contests between players, but most listeners enjoy the results. I'm with the latter camp, and I rank these records among the most essential of all.

186. Duke Ellington / Sophisticated Lady (1996)

Sophisticated Lady is another cull from the legendary RCA sessions. It's a good one. Selections from the period also appear on the three-disc set, Never No Lament. But that, or Bluebird's Blanton-Webster box that spawned them all, are going to make one hell of a dent in your bankroll. On the other hand, you can buy Sophisticated Lady over at Amazon for the princely sum of one penny. I know, you have enough Ellington at home and will forgo this stage in the endless saga of repackaged jazz music. Still, a penny? I'll wait here while you go and get one. Back already? When it arrives in the mail, you'll appreciate the diversity of material and engaging sequence. Duke's best pieces are present, and there is a fair mixture of instrumental and vocal music. With Blanton at the wheel, it swings like a hammock. There is magic from start to finish. Like Kay Davis' electrifying vocal that makes "Mood Indigo," followed by Webster's whispering tenor. Tricky Sam Nanton's trombone should get you "In a Sentimental Mood," but beware the three sirens telling you "It Don't Mean a Thing if it ain't Got that Swing" (Joya Sherrill, Kay Davis, Marie Ellingon). The affair heats up to a frenzy courtesy of Jimmy B. Then Ray Nance sings "Just Squeeze Me," Al Hibbler chimes in on "Solitude"... Nothing to shake a stick at here, this is real music. This is what it all means. This is "it."

177-185. Music for St. Valentine's Day?

173. John Coltrane / Coltrane For Lovers (2001)
As long as you don't accidentally mix this up with Stellar Regions, it's ready-made for a date. A posthumous release on the Impulse! label, Coltrane For Lovers showcases Trane's work with the ballad. Included are tracks with Johnny Hartman (like "My One and Only Love") and Duke Ellington ("In a Sentimental Mood"), as well as the superb "After the Rain." This set would be even better if it included things from the Prestige catalog like "I Want to Talk About You" or "Lush Life" -- a homebrew playlist solves that, or just purchase The Gentle Side of John Coltrane, also on Impulse! The album serves with distinction as the one I see for sale most often at the mall.

 
174. Derek & the Dominoes / Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs (1970)
The tortured "Layla" has become iconic of blues rock and a radio staple, but its arresting power, continued through the rest of the epic set recorded in Miami, Florida, reaches every high and low possible in a romantic relationship -- loving, leaving, missing, cooing, trash talkin'... whether "I Am Yours" or you've got the "Keys to the Highway," it's all in there. Duane Allman is on hand (and on bottleneck) to press the point.

175. Al Green / Let's Stay Together (1972)
The ultimate R&B record. The songs are concise and earnest. Green's velvety delivery and rich emotional timbres drip from these soulful grooves, easily the best record that Green made with producer Willie Mitchell. It's sexy, it's strong, it's beautiful. It's Al Green.

176. Otis Redding / The Ultimate Otis Redding (1986)
Classic tracks, sufficiently casual but with intimacy compelled by Redding's yearning vocal. This easy to find compilation contains some of my favorites like the wrenching "That's How Strong My Love Is," "Pain in My Heart," as well as "Try a Little Tenderness." If you can't warm up to Otis, you must have no heart at all.

177. Frank Zappa / Cruising with Ruben & the Jets (1968)
Hunh? Love comes in many forms. Zappa's Ruben allows you to get your "Cheap Thrills" on the backseat, or maybe opine how wronged you were when snookums threw your best shark skin suit out on the lawn. Humor aside, you have the unmistakable nice-guy touch of "Sweet Baby Ray" Collins. And one starts to get the impression that this is really Zappa's love letter to the malt shop pop music that he loved.

178. Marvin Gaye / Let's Get It On (1973)
No introduction required..

179. Duke Ellington / Indigos (1958)
1958, the Ellington band runs through some popular blues like "Solitude," "Where or When" and "Autumn Leaves." Surprisingly, there are more covers than originals. Low and slow is the tempo, leading some overeager critics to condemn it as a snoozer. My take? Such listeners obviously missed the point. Indigos is probably as close as Duke and Company ever got to a record of slow jams. But they steer wide of the saccharine, the commercial, the banal, or outright schmaltz. Something about these stately renderings continues to captivate me.

180. John Scofield / A Moment's Peace (2011)
No space jazz here. Scofield is a remarkably fluent guitarist, capable of reaching the outer fringes of musicality in jams that recall the Grateful Dead in 1970 more than the jazz clubs of New York. Here he attempts, and succeeds in crafting a sleek and modern ballads-only set that are specifically not easy listening. The band really plays, as Sco describes, which makes all the difference. There are five fine originals, but check out the blissful cover of Carla Bley's "Lawns," or the Lennon-McCartney favorite "I Will."

 
181. Terence Blanchard / Wandering Moon (2000)
I've already described Wandering Moon in this blog, so I won't add too much to it here, except that it strikes me as one of the most effectively melancholy jazz dates I have ever listened to. Talk about deep and blue. Grooves by Dave Holland, a tribute written for Sweets Edison, and more than enough minor key lamenting for a whole bus of heartsick musicians, the music herein also retains a confidence brought by superior musicianship.
 

176. Etienne Charles - Creole Soul (2013)

After the uplifting vocal intro by Haitian singer Erol Josué, Charles immediately shows off his chops with "Creole," incorporating some brassy flourishes and familiar licks that recall the brilliance of  Lee Morgan or Dizzy Gillespie. And Diz is probably a good touchstone for listeners to whom Charles is new. The music on Creole Soul is just as it sounds, and keeps with the trumpeter's eclectic style that freshly approaches the jazz idiom while remaining warmly reverent of his Trinidadian roots. A greater variety of musics and rhythmical structures -- everything from funk, calypso, bomba, and other musics produced by the Black diaspora -- make Creole Soul something of a departure from his previous albums that were more focused. So the album is like a self portrait. These styles are married with deep sentimentality, sleek musicianship, and mature songcraft in compositions like "The Folks," a Charles original, or spicy, fitting covers like Horace Silver's "Doin' the Thing." With its beguiling spirit and inventive performance, Charles and company negate boxy commercial descriptors like "Worldbeat," or "Latin" at every turn. Tenor sax by Jacques Schwarz-Bart and piano by Kris Bowers add exciting texture and kinetic energy to the already exciting proceedings. Highly recommended! 

175. John Blake / A New Beginning (1988)

A New Beginning combines Blake's typically sonorous violin lines with elements of funk, soul jazz, and Brazilian and African rhythmical structures. The exciting music is buoyed by an interesting lineup featuring two keyboards, a drummer, and a percussionist. Gerald Veasley kicks out solid rhythms on the bass with a soulful and percussive technique that employs juicy slides and the occasional slap to emphasize his point. Between the deceptively catchy but challenging opener "Dream Lady" and the following "Samba Di Bahia" listeners get the idea that the group is capable of excelling in a variety of musics while maintaining a consistent level of performance and improvisation quality that is the album's hallmark. Dual keyboards (James Simmons, electric; Sumi Tonooka, acoustic) add to the bubbling rhythm section, Simmons for texture and Tonooka as the melodic foil for Blake. Not being familiar with Blake beyond his work with Grover Washington, I had lukewarm expectations when I picked this up, and was pleasantly surprised. It ends on a great tune, "Serengetti Dance."

170-173. Four albums by Gigi Gryce Quintet and Gigi Gryce Orch-Tette, 1960-1961

This CD release by Fresh Sound collects the last four LPs by Gigi Gryce: Saying Somethin'; The Hap'nin's; The Rat Race Blues; and Reminiscin'. I think they were originally released on Jazzland, but I have to double-check. Gryce was respected and admired as an altoist and composer, and he is heard on a good many dates by other leaders. But he left performing and recording for the field of education... PS 53 in the Bronx, to be precise. In that regard, he reminds me of people like Nathan Davis, Donald Byrd, or Dave Van Kriedt who quit the scene to become educators. Sadly, Gryce's memory gets lost, because in an age of new ideas, he just kept on playing hard bop and never really made a big splash. What he didn't accomplish by comparison to his peers is irrelevant. As this set shows, Gryce made some excellent music. His effortless, sometimes abrasive lines and unique approach to the blues are rock solid. I know everyone's blues is unique but it's nice to hear a person say it his way. Likewise, Gryce's arrangements of "Summertime," "A Train," "Lover Man," and "Caravan" put a vivid new spark into the old warhorses. I'm thankful we have the recordings he left and if you haven't heard of him, then you now have a new musician to look into.

169. Ronnie Cuber / Live at the Blue Note (1986)

Live at the Blue Note is fine hard bop by a very strong quartet featuring Cuber on barisax, with Dr. Lonnie Smith on organ and the outspoken Randy Brecker on trumpet. Drums are by Ronnie Burrage. The lineup says it all. Brecker is outstanding, assertive and brassy but so is everyone else. Listeners will recognize Cuber and Smith as an old team. From behind the organ Dr. Smith gives the music a robust buoyancy, working the draw bars like floodgates. Along with Burrage, he bounces between playing his own steely choruses and pointed interplay with Brecker and Cuber. The date is memorable and stands head and shoulders above Cuber's studio dates on Projazz, like Two Brothers. The set is a mix of bop, rhythm, and blues. It gets pretty hot, as with "Philly Blues," or "Blue 'n' Boogie," but practically the whole disc has the same feel. If you can find a copy and the price is reasonable, buy it. The audio is great, too.

168. Miles Davis / Kind of Blue (1959)

A review of Kind of Blue seems pointless. I'll muse for a few hundred words, and then quit. I imagine a world without this record, and that is a difficult world. It's a world where Bill Evans didn't sub for Wynton Kelly, a world in which countless musicians were struck by inspiration elsewhere. A world that is one milestone short of properly demarcating the future. A world where your brain is not irresistibly and without permission drawn to referencing all subsequent Miles Davis dates to this one. It's a world without the myth of it all being done in one take, a world where you don't have to buy that other CD to find out that what you missed was not really anything special. In this world, 1959 is not terribly different than 1958 or 1960. The Columbia vault is one cart of tapes lighter. It's a party that went one album different. It's the late night DJ who selects something by Cliff Brown instead. It's a world where the porter didn't see the CD on my passenger seat. It's a world where as a teenager, I didn't once stop my bicycle in the middle of an intersection to change the batteries of my headset. It's a world where my daughter was lulled into dreamland by someone else's trumpet, and awakened by someone who was not John Coltrane. It's a lot the same, but it's not the same, and I'd rather have it with Kind of Blue.

167. John Coltrane / Lush Life (1961)

While Prestige's Lush Life was not released until 1961, it was recorded by Van Gelder during three sessions in '57 and '58. As he was no longer recording for the label, Coltrane had no say in it but ironically, the record contains a few of his choicest recordings playing in the small group, hard bop setting. This was an incredibly fertile period for Coltrane. He had yet to compose the seminal works that later appeared on Blue Note and Atlantic but was already working on the technique and musical ideas that would define his legacy. The first three tracks present Coltrane as leader of a pianoless trio, fleshing out a lot of chords in lieu of the keyboard. The most memorable moment on Lush Life is probably the title track, a luscious ballad owned by the leader until around nine minutes in when Donald Byrd steps out of the woodwork for some equally inspiring lines on the trumpet. Two years ago I was at a stoplight listening to this on the radio and was so transfixed by Byrd's meandering melancholy that it took a horn blast from the car behind me to break the reverie. While I'll never recreate that moment, I can still listen again and again. "Trane's Slo Blues" is also notable for Coltrane's moves inside the changes. These tracks appear on the boxset Fearless Leader although they are not presented in the same sequence as they are here, which is actually quite good. 

166. Sonny Rollins / Rollins Plays for Bird (1956)

The medley of post-1950 Charlie Parker tunes that begins this tribute to the late Mr. Parker flows as effortlessly as a river thanks to Wade Legge's piano continuo and Max Roach's drum kit. Rollins and Kenny Dorham do most of the melody and choruses, although Roach gets a fair shake, too. He characteristically mixes it up during the front line's choruses, laying on the cymbals and hard rolls while changing from straight time to double-time and back again, adding a loping feel, building urgency, or cooling it back down as needed. Legge and bassist George Morrow are the only musicians in the quintet to never work with Parker, so there is a familiar intimacy about the music that comes from the friends honoring a friend. Dorham is relaxed and outstanding in the "Star Eyes" segment. He especially soars in "Kids Know," a Rollins original in 3/4 that the band stretches out generously. There are a lot of Charlie Parker tribute albums out there, hundreds since 1955, and some are real time wasters. This date is one of the best, the most genuine, and the most enjoyable.

164. Ernie Watts Quartet / Ernie Watts Quartet (1987)

This self-titled LP featuring Watts as the chief soloist is pretty hard to fault. Watts' craft and professionalism are what's on display here, and they are impressive to say the least. Watts is a diversely talented musician capable of playing with ease in a dizzying assortment of styles and settings, and this album does well to demonstrate his chops on tenor, alto, and soprano saxes while playing pop, hard bop, and the blues. By 1987, he had done extensive session work in Los Angeles that refined his technique from a streetwise hard bop sound to the razor edge of instinct and technical facility required for more specific demands as a hired horn. Side 1 opens with "Language of the Heart," a smooth pop tune that never strays far from the melody. But the next track is a mean slice of hard bop called "Continental Blues." The dramatic juxtaposition of these styles proclaims YES, this man will do both! Here and elsewhere, Watts switches from heavy lines in a tough tone to effervescent double-time eruptions of verbosity that probe the harmonic architecture of the changes. Even when he's on alto, Watts reminds me a lot of John Coltrane. I appreciate the group's thoughtful rendition of "Body and Soul," which is dedicated to Mr. Coltrane, and at 6:02 is also the longest track on the record. Pat Coil, whether driving the rhythm, comping, or interplaying intelligently with Watts, wins the prize for underrated sideman of the hour. Often, in the more predictable spots, his piano maintains my interest when the melody from Watts just isn't enough. Timekeeping Leatherbarrow and Dibartolo are also notable.