209. Lionel Hampton & Stan Getz / Hamp & Getz (1955)

I suppose it's nice that by a happy accident of geography and scheduling, Hamp and Getz occupied the same place at the same time and afforded us a record. Hamp hits the sticks with a swinging ferocity that inspires Getz out of his cool cage in some unexpected chances. The pair battles through choruses and plods through a medley of ballads in a fair exposition of each's technique. It seems that Getz had to start running to keep up with the manic energy of the legendary vibraphonist. The two personalities make something of a strange cocktail, and I'd say the net result is more differentiated and less of a mutual product. The most exciting fireworks come during uptempo "Cherokee" and "Jumpin' at the Woodside." On the CD reissue, we have some extras, namely a mystery trombone player rumored to be Willie Ruff, but he doesn't really do much. The outtake of "Gladys" is a nice party favor, but, again, nothing special aside from where Hamp hits a clanger. I never like it when a reviewer describes something as "nonessential" but that's exactly what I've got here. The ingredients are enjoyable, but I'll continue taking my Hamp and Getz neat. The fine artwork on the cover is by the great David Stone Martin, reminding me that one of these days I'd like find a lithograph.

206. Frank Sinatra / In the Wee Small Hours (1955)

Though not as languished as 1959's No One Cares, this album of ballads sets the bar for melancholy, as well as being the first of the themed (and innovative) full-length LP's that Sinatra recorded for Capitol. Gordon Jenkins arranged and conducted on No One, but originally it was Nelson Riddle at the stand. The collaboration is magical. Riddle's restrained treatments underscore the mood of each lyric and magnify their impact. Sinatra expertly uses breath control and different vocal textures to interpret the material while Riddle's charts employ orchestral color at all the right incidental moments. Sinatra sings the passages carefully, sounding deeper and more mature than ever before. The frankness of songs like "Last Night When We Were Young," "I See Your Face Before Me," and "When Your Lover Has Gone" have secured In the Wee Small Hours a permanent place in the hearts of many fans. It remains one of  his most satisfying and moving performances on wax. More than a routine set of ballads, it only takes a few notes to know that Sinatra is making these songs his own. At the same time, they're yours too.

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.

109. Julie London / Julie is Her Name (1955)

Julie London's range and the timbre of her voice is one that sits very well with me. Ensconced within her silky mezzo soprano is a space filled with sumptuous partials and overtones that make a single note sound like a chord. Her voice and my wife's are quite similar so when I listen, I sense something familiar. In the classic debut Julie is Her Name, London's young voice is the main attraction and backed often by only a guitar. Her phrasing and timing leave you on the edge of your seat, wondering where the next phrase will fall ("It Never Entered My Mind"). She's always playing this way with the lyrics and her timing, while Barney Kessel anxiously holds back comping. Later in her career, she fronted a big band whose eloquence and power gave her smoldering vocals and lovelorn ballads some extra emotional impact. But here it's all Julie. The album opens with the quintessential "Cry Me a River," and moves through 12 other standards and ballads including aforementioned, quirky "It Never Entered My Mind," and the beautiful "Laura." There's also a second volume, which is just as bit as this first volume, two records that should be on every jazz lovers shelf.

104. Clifford Brown & Max Roach / Study in Brown (1955)

Study in Brown is a really enjoyable record. What's memorable, to me, in this Brown-Roach date from 1955, isn't just Brown's exceptional talent on the trumpet, but his talent as composer ("Sandu" is here) and contributions of tenor Harold Land on the front line. Between their instrumental abilities and composed works, the band is a really good combination. A bit like the Cookbook series by Eddie Davis, Brown and Roach went in the studio a few times and each time, the chemistry cooked something special. This set runs from blues to bop to standards, and through a variety of tempos. In the opening "Cherokee," Land can match Brown phrase for phrase at breakneck speed, and the wailing fragility of his reed provides additional texture and urgency. In each tune, Roach gets a lot of room, naturally, carving out his niche in jazz percussion with driving, melodically inspired solos on snares and toms. "Take the 'A' Train" has a really cool introduction and arrangement, and the jaunty "Gerkin for Perkin" keeps it interesting with a cool stop/start rhythm that causes Roach to kick up some dust. Such freshness, vibrancy and joy flows from this recording. It's almost hard to listen and not be overwhelmed by the sad feeling of knowing that Brown would be gone in less than a year.

84. Modern Jazz Quartet / Concorde (1955)

I vividly remember the day I bought this LP. It was among the first jazz records I ever purchased, and I found it sitting at a yard sale in the next neighborhood. I must have been about 15 years old. In a box filled mostly with movie soundtracks, I found Concorde along with MJQ's Fontessa and Black Sabbath's Live at Last. I bought all three for fifty cents apiece, and went home happy. I didn't know much about jazz back then, but after studying the back cover intently, I made the right choice. This album is classic MJQ and also features the debut of Connie Kay. The Gershwin medley is the centerpiece, paired with an innovative take of "Softly as in a Morning Sunrise" on the second side. But there are surprises everywhere, as with the quiet beauty of "All of You" or lively conversation between Jackson and Lewis on "I'll Remember April." Milt Jackson is a hero pretty much everywhere (can you tell I like him?), at once bluesy and virtuosic. There's strong musicality in each of the tracks blowing sections, and it's hard to tell that Kay hasn't been playing with the other three members all along.

55. Martin Denny / Exotica! The Best of Martin Denny (1990)

Is it jazz? Well, it might as well be, if we accept that Louie Armstrong and John Zorn occupy the same section at the record store. Martin Denny purveyed a style of lounge music that re-imagined common melodies with elaborate orchestration to create atmosphere with an "exotic" flavor. It was ideal background music for transporting you to another place. So Tiki culture, African drumming, cha-cha, tribal chanting, bird calls, etc., are all fair game. Exotica albums were made by hundreds of composers and orchestras, but Denny's work was always a few cuts above the rest, maintaining a unique sensibility that was frequently imitated by others. Exotica! The Best of Martin Denny was compiled from several LPs released in the 1950s. It begins with the quintessential "Quiet Village" and Denny's signature bird calls, howling, and other aural oddities sure to raise eyebrows at your next cocktail party. They do a lot of Lex Baxter compositions, but typical of Denny's style, there are other chestnuts, too. For instance, Duke's "Caravan," the town bicycle, is treated here with sufficient aplomb (which means a grab bag of interesting percussion and a wry grin). I was initially concerned that without the thematic context of each album, this compilation would sound disjointed. But surprisingly, I found that not just the pieces themselves, but their themes, dovetail nicely. And Denny keeps listeners awake during each song by scoring for a bewildering array of world percussion instruments. More academically inclined listeners might notice the mischievous melodies, ever present vibraphone, and humorous character all point toward Danny Elfman and Frank Zappa. If you made the mistake of thinking grown men who call like monkeys, birds, and tropical insects can't influence musical history, perhaps think again.

46. Donald Byrd / Byrd's Word (1955)

It was announced that Mr. Byrd passed away early this month. Before his role in jazz education and outreach, Byrd was a noted session leader and prolific collaborator. Byrd's Word (not to be confused with Charlie Byrd's Byrd's Word! from 1958) is an early disc of his that was recorded for Savoy in 1955 and shows his original, pre-funk style on the open trumpet. When a guy has a good tone, I love to hear him use it. That's the case here, although his licks are understated compared to his pyrotechnics on other people's dates, like Coltrane's exemplary "Lush Life." Chambers plays bass, Basie alum Frank Foster and the versatile Hank Jones do tenor and piano, with Kenny Clarke on drums. Byrd's "Gotcha Goin' n' Comin'" is a bluesy exercise in mood and rhythm that seems to be as much about Clarke and Chambers, as it is about Byrd. There's a lot of space in the middle and it's heavy on the atmosphere. But once it whispers goodbye, the followup is the jolting "Long Green" that sounds straight off one of the Charlie Parker Savoys. Foster is a versatile player who can play bop as well as he can do hard swing or ballads. There's room for everyone, before the album closes with "Star Eyes" and the beautiful "Someone to Watch Over Me." The latter is my favorite cut on the album, but it works only if I listen to the whole album first. It's a fitting closer to the preceding program, featuring a sentimental intro from Byrd, a moving legato chorus from Foster and one from Chambers, then the go-lightly contributions of Jones and all, who carry it out and are careful not to break the magic. Overall it's a very loose hard bop session that's probably easy to forget and may be similar to other groups, but is superbly rendered.

41. Jack Teagarden & Bobby Hackett / The Complete Fifties Studio Recoridings (2004)

With notable exceptions, I'm not a huge fan of dixieland. At least, it's not the first jazz I reach for every time. Six or seven freewheeling improvisors that are each so close to the melody can wear thin on me after a few tracks, and I long for the organization of a hard bop quartet. But a band this good and this experienced brings out something special in the music. A big winner is the fact that it was recorded in the 50s, and the superior audio quality means I can actually hear what all those "other guys" are doing behind the soloist. Teagarden is unrivaled on the trombone, and has a stand-up voice for singing songs like "Basin Street Blues" and "St. James Infirmary." I love listening to him sing, and there's a reassuring quality in his voice. Hackett's open horn is gloriously full toned and his solos, like those of Teagarden and Matty Matlock, are boldly effervescent and daring. Teagarden uses a few different techniques on his own instrument, adding life and spontaneous joy to every bar. This collection should be on every jazz listener's shelf, right next to the Louies, Pee Wee Russells, and Eddie Condons. There's actually several LPs worth of material here (23 songs), so if you like it then invite some friends over because there's plenty to go around.

33. The Dave Brubeck Quartet / Jazz: Red Hot and Cool (1955)

Recorded live at New York's Basin Street club across three nights, this quartet isn't the same one that gelled on "Take Five," but the Joe Dodge/Bob Bates team sounds fine and contributes to the Brubeck formula admirably with rhythmical inspiration and some interesting polyrhythmic steering from Dodge. The pieces for the Morello-Wright band are already in place, like polytonality, polyrhythm and fugue-like structures. But these were already present during the days of the Dave Brubeck Octet, and earlier still during formative late nights at the Blackhawk. So if you're into Brubeck then there's plenty of good music here to enjoy. Sonny Rollins is credited in the notes of Saxophone Colossus for being the first jazz musician to develop his improvisations with an ear toward their musicality, as spontaneous compositions. That makes sense if Ira Gitler wasn't looking at the West Coast where Brubeck was doing exactly that. Full shifts in signatures mid tune, Desmond responding on the fly to Brubeck's harmonic cues -- as Brubeck's groups ever were, interesting music that rewards deep listening. 

29. Ahmad Jamal / Chamber Music of the New Jazz (1955)

I find myself listening to the 'original unconventional' piano trio again and again, and I enjoy it more each time I hear it. It's light and refreshing, cracking with good ideas and smooth sailing without even a hint of drums. Why bother? Jamal has Israel Crosby doing great interplay on bass while also hitting the pulse, and Ray Crawford strikes and plucks the guitar for a similar effect. Crawford has some good solo space, too, while Jamal comps or plays with Crosby. The three musicians have effervescent chemistry and often finish each other's sentences, musically speaking. Jamal has enough room to use the piano trio for what it was meant intended. He does all kinds of inventive stuff and blocks or plays alone with his right hand, occasionally dropping boulders to make the point. You can hear he's trying stuff out, and uses the full range of the keyboard, too. The influential player and album were like a drop of water for the arrangers' seed, inspiring Gil Evans and Miles Davis to the heights of cool in the 1950s. Best part is when it comes to Jamal, this album was only the beginning.

15. Nat Adderley / Introducing Nat Adderley (1955)

It was released under Nat's name but the Brothers Adderley really split the bill here, including most of the composition credits. It's solid hard bop and sounds a lot like what other New York groups were doing in 1955, but this beautiful example has aged very well. The other three comprising the quintet are Horace Silver, Paul Chambers, and Roy Haynes. Together, they make one of those 'perfect' jazz groups like the classic Coltrane quartet or first Miles Davis quintet. Nat's trumpet work is fresh, brassy and forthright, Cannonball is his usual slippery and blues inflected self, using a combination of Birdlike runs in the higher register with. In fact, both brothers play with a satisfying helping of blues and soul. I listen to the accomplished playing on this disc, tracks like the autobiographical "Two Brothers" or "New Arrivals," or the ballad "I Should Care," and it's easy to see how New York's band leaders and other players took so quickly to the Adderleys right when they arrived, moves which put them on the map for the recording labels.