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.

95. The Jazz Five featuring Vic Ash and Harry Klein / The Five of Us (1960)

Vic Ash played a sweet clarinet but also came to double on tenor sax, and the latter is what he mostly does here. Harry Klein, the great British barisax, is the other reed, along with a rock solid Malcolm Cecil on bass and the piano of Brian Dee. Their set is slick and refreshing jazz in the deep rhythm and blues vein that should immediately resonate with Blue Note listeners. The twin-sax front line is similar to that of another great, and perhaps more well known, British hard bop super group: The Jazz Couriers featuring Tubby Hayes and Ronnie Scott. Such a comparison is easy to make, but the texture and dynamics of the Jazz Five are quite different than that of the Couriers, without mentioning stylistic differences between the members of the two groups. On "The Five of Us," the group works with an uptempo tune of its own composition, the latter section demonstrating its willingness to exploit the baritone in the arrangement, likewise with "'Pon My Soul." The group swings in a tight arrangement but maintains a freewheeling, loose and savvy spirit that I associate with Charles Mingus. Four of the five members were noted composers, and this EP features mostly their music instead of American-penned standards. That wins points in my book, and I think the quality of the compositions alone should warrant more serious interest from the American jazz community. Certainly someone took note: Riverside renamed the record The Hooter and released in stateside. There is one American tune, the ubiquitous "Autumn Leaves." It's a rather charming arrangement done in sections like vignettes, featuring a contribution from each member. I especially like Malcolm Cecil's pensive and melancholic chorus on the bass, right before it wraps up, and the opposition of the saxes is fantastic. If you're going to listen, and I recommend that you do, then stop! Don't read too much about it beforehand. It's better to just listen cold and let it take you where it will. You can swing by the BritJazz blog for a free download of the EP. If you do, be sure to leave a comment and say hey to the managers.

52. Gerry Mulligan Meets Johnny Hodges (1959)

Once upon a time, Verve (and the other labels, too) did a handful of records where one player "meets" another. These albums are like fantasy baseball for jazz. Some are really good, while others start and finish without really accomplishing anything. This time it clicks. Together, Mulligan and Hodges do a smooth and balanced set comprised of six originals, three from each. On Side 1, Mulligan's "Bunny" and the self-descriptive "What's the Rush?" set the mood, before moving into the swank, bluesy territory of Hodges' "Back Beat" and "What It's All About." Claude Williamson, Buddy Clark and Mel Lewis are the rhythm section, and are good at keying in on what the leaders are doing. Sonically, the saxes are a sweet blend with Claude Williamson and the carefully considered bass lines of Buddy Clark. When Mulligan and Hodges take choruses, the one will start developing where the other left off. There's no requirement for this, it's just good artistry. So instead of going in two personal directions with the rhythm section plodding in tow, Mulligan and Hodges make the album a cohesive and jointly constructed product. No surprises musically speaking, nothing groundbreaking, no one trying to bring down the roof. But does there need to be? It's just really good jazz from five great musicians.

16. Gerry Mulligan & Paul Desmond / Quartet (1957)

The story in the notes has it that one night, Mulligan sat in with Brubeck's band and after they hit it off so well, Mulligan and Desmond decided to do a record together. The resulting collaboration is that of two intensely lyrical players. The album proceeds like a conversation in thoughtful melodic phrases, and the magic is all in the melody. We get a few contrafacts (like Desmond's "Battle Hymn of the Republican" a reworking of "Tea for Two"), some mutual favorites (like the exquisite "Body and Soul"), and a lot of improvised counterpoint between Mulligan and Desmond. It's exciting how well the pieces fit together and the tone of the baritone mixed with the alto sounds really sweet. Dave Bailey and Joe Benjamin do the rhythm, same as when Chet Baker was in Desmond's chair. If you listen to those recordings, you can hear the remarkable difference that chemistry makes. The two groups don't sound as similar as one might expect. The Mulligan-Desmond partnership produced a few "sequels" which are very good, but I think this first outing captured their intentions the best.  

14. Chet Baker / Chet (1958)

I find Chet in a lot of those "best of" lists that describe it as essential listening, which I have a hard time understanding. I have mixed feelings about Baker, whose playing is often delicately soulful or angelic, but to my ears, lacks a crucial distinguishing feature. I've listened to many his records from the '50s on up, and this ballads-only outing from 1958 is immaculately performed and rather beautiful, but not terribly exciting. Still, it's the Baker album that gets the most play around my house. His band keeps a lid on their playing, which compresses the emotional impact of each ballad and causes them to smolder. Bill Evans, master of the devastating understatement, plays piano while Pepper Adams plays baritone. There isn't a tenor in sight, so the textures are a nice change of pace and along with the trumpet. make quite a romantic atmosphere. The group has a nose like a bloodhound to sniff out the heart of the ballad and lay it bare before the audience. In such a way, a few of these old chestnuts really shine, which is a good thing because there aren't any surprises in the playlist.