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.

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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.

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.

57. Bud Freeman / Swingin' with the Eel (1998)

If you like listening Hawk and want to hear the preeminent tenor who predated him, or if you like old Chicago jazz and robust swing, then this very nice collection of Bud Freeman sides should merit your attention. The sound quality is excellent, and there is a variety of material to hear, all recorded from 1927 to 1945. Freeman's hard driving and assertive style on the tenor pops right out among the fold on freewheeling dixieland improvisations and the cooler swing tunes. They called him "The Eel" because of the long, meandering, "serpentine" solos he would take. For the price of admission you also get the leaders and sidemen Freeman recorded with like Eddie Condon, Benny Goodman, Pee Wee Russell, Joe Venuti, Tommy Dorsey, and a score of others. I like the sides where Russel's tortured, sopping wet clarinet trades places with Freeman's dry and direct statements on the tenor sax, driven hell bent for leather by Eddie Condon's guitar. Wow, that sound!

28. Benny Golson / Tenor Legacy (1998)

This album is essential. The explosive session is very natural and everyone is clearly enjoying it. Veteran Golson teams up with Branford Marsalis, James Carter and Harold Ashby to pay tribute to Dexter Gordon, Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Coltrane, and a half dozen more. The atomic "Lester Leaps In" places Golson's mature phrasing and fat tone between the young and more adventurous Carter, whose abrasive squall is the ideal foil. Ashby joins in for good measure, and the three-way melee is one hell of an opener. Golson gets a single track alone, the sweet ballad "In Memory of," dedicated to Don Byas accompanied by lush block chords and the rainy touch of sliding brushes. I also really enjoyed the take "My Favorite Things" a la Coltrane. The feel is much different than Trane's. Dwayne Burno's busy bass is another animal compared to the hauntingly ambiguous static elements that were played by Steve Davis, and pianist Geoff Keezer stands out above the assembled reeds and almost steals the show, alternating between shifting modalities and improvised linear melody.

25. Coleman Hawkins / In a Mellow Tone (1998)

Prestige had it easier than other labels in the task of compiling Coleman Hawkins' "best" studio recordings. Hawk's output on Prestige, Swingville and Moodsville commenced in 1958 and was completed by 1962, so the difficult job of choosing the most exemplary tracks was simplified. They chose from a diverse variety of small groups with Tiny Grimes, Red Garland, Tommy Flanagan, Major Holley, Ray Bryant, and Kenny Burrell, and others. It's a nice sampling of Hawk's technique and improvisational prowess. "Greensleeves" is done as a heartbreaking blues, and "I Want to be Loved" features Red Garland soulfully blocking the chorus while Hawk blows judicious bouts of syrupy vibrato. On Duke's "In a Mellow Tone," Hawk takes the left channel and Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis takes the right, trading gritty R&B inflected licks that progressively up the ante. The best part of this disc is that it does not sound conceptually disjointed. Hawk's distinctive voice and inventive ideas dominate the proceedings and keep the ear interested across almost five years of recordings with an assortment of players.