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.
 

160. Duke Ellington & Johnny Hodges / Side By Side (1959)

I put this album in the "essential" pile. From the first punchy, rather Dukelike chords in "Stompy Jones," we're off to the races with two sessions comprised of Ellington and Basie alumni. I love listening to Sweets Edison in the context of a small group. His lines in "Stompy" are clean, concise, and eloquent, ringing out above the swinging bass, Jo Jones' crashing cymbals and Duke's rhythmical encouragement. Those two guys -- Duke Ellington and Jo Jones -- make quite the pair midway through the tune when the front line lays out and lets them have a round of aggressive chords and crashing percussion. Hodges comes back just in time for a joyous, New Orleans style melee at the end. The lineup with Ellington and Sweets only does three of the album's nine tracks ("Stompy," "Squeeze Me" and "Going Up"). The second session is a septet recorded six months earlier with Billy Strayhorn, Ben Webster, Roy Eldridge, Wendell Marshall, and Lawrence Brown. The character is similar but the different chemistry is easy to hear. Of course the soloists change, Eldridge's style is flashier than Sweets', but there's also a different sentimental quality and certain reserve presiding over cuts like "Let's Fall in Love" that is absent from the music with Ellington. Maybe it's Webster. Or maybe it's Strayhorn? Who knows. Regardless of which band you prefer, this disc is wonderful.

116. Duke Ellington / Such Sweet Thunder (1957)

In 1999, Such Sweet Thunder was released on CD, expanded and including outtakes. It's a fantastic stereo reconstruction of the originally intended program, complete with inter-track studio ambience akin to a concert hall, formerly available only in mono due to a flawed production. The album's original 12 selections are Duke's musical interpretations of various Shakespearean characters. It's another of his concept pieces, a tone parallel like Black, Brown, and Beige. The music is filled with quirky grinners, as in "Lady Mac," where Duke writes new personality into Lady Macbeth. It shows an indulgently swinging streak to the infamous noblewoman, hitherto unseen on stage. And who's to say that's incorrect? It's refreshing. Most notably, the Ellington-Strayhorn team uses soloists in the band to great effect in pieces like "Sonnet for Caesar," the first of four such sonnets on the album that emulate the 14 line poetic form. The soloists actually play the characters with their instruments, so I wonder, wryly, if the union rep had anything to say about that. "Caesar" features Sam Woodyard imparting an appropriately martial atmosphere while Jimmy Hamilton takes the lead (literally) to portray history's great general in a stately and beauteous, but ultimately tragic, melody. The arrangements for other songs continue the trend of band-as-cast in brilliant works like "Up and Down." Here, Puck (played by Clark Terry) quotes mischievously while working the play's couples into increasingly awkward situations. Just three examples, there are nine more to enjoy. It's ambitious, and the CD release is a treasure. It's sound is brilliantly spacious and clear, and we have all the session's complete takes in one place..  

113. Duke Ellington / Far East Suite (1967)

Last month, I rolled down the windows of my car after working a 12-hour day, twisted the cap off an ice cold Virgil's Orange Cream soda, and enjoyed the drive home while listening to this record. The Far East Suite is one of Duke's last recorded works, and one whose material might sport the familiar names and faces of orchestras past but its compositions have a unique flavor among others in the Duke canon. It's been on regular rotation at my house since that evening with the soda pop. Between the grooves are  yards of punchy counterpoint between reeds and brass, and some of Johnny Hodges' sweetest work on wax ("Isfahan"). And of course we are treated to equally fine work by the likes of Cootie Williams, Cat Anderson, Russell Procope, Harry Carney, et al. The recording is memorable throughout thanks to Duke's direction of the sublimely cohesive band. It is nice to hear Duke melding his percussive piano blues with sophisticated orchestral textures and touches of middle eastern music or orientalism in tracks like "Mount Harissa," "Ad Lib on Nippon" or the opening "Tourist Point of View." I was swept up by the tidal wave of sound, which is what usually happens when I listen to Mr. Ellington.

111. Duke Ellington, Charles Mingus & Max Roach / Money Jungle (1963)

Money Jungle is all about contrasts and individuality. The music is famously, and often physically, tense. The grit is established on the first track "Money Jungle" where Mingus spends much of his time aggressively bending a static harmonic element while Duke assertively pounds big blocks across the registers. Each musician has a distinct playing style, and no one gives an inch for the notion of a group product. Remarkably, a unique group product is exactly what we get. The mood often swings to moments of quiet beauty, but rocks quickly back to outbursts of boulder dropping and more assaults on bass and drums. At times it sounds as if Duke is pointing to sections of his orchestra which are not actually in the studio, playing electrifying chords in his characteristic staccato style before drawing back in contemplation and moving his hands to other registers. With the keyboard laid out in front of him, he's arranging while improvising. A listener with experience with titles in the Duke Ellington catalog will hear the bones of the brass and reeds as sections rise and fall in the imaginary arrangement. I'm happy Duke had the foresight to request making this album with one of his greatest adherents, Charles Mingus, possibly the only talent in jazz that may have been equivocal in terms of composition, orchestration or arrangement.

108. Duke Ellington / On the Road with Duke Ellington (1967)

On the Road is a documentary film from 1967 by Robert Drew. For an artist so prolific, Duke left behind precious few film documentaries. There is music performed in the film that'll give you goosebumps but the subject isn't the music itself, it's Duke and how he lives and works. The picture is grainy and saturated like an old Super 8, the audio is muddy, and you'll instantly disregard that because from the outset, you're aware that this is the best film on Duke Ellington that there is. It's delicious, for a Duke fan like me. The camera follows him in his daily routine as he opens his mail, lingers too long backstage on the piano, composes a new tune, or has his breakfast -- hot water, steak and potato, the same breakfast he's had for 40 years. Duke is a funny, funny guy. He's an autocratic employer, an eloquent speaker, and madly devoted to his craft. You see him flirting with fans at the airport, or backstage having a natter with Louis Armstrong, just talking like two old friends, which is extremely interesting. The bottom line is that Duke Ellington runs the show whether it's on the road, at home, or accepting an honorary doctorate. He works all nighters while he's not performing and performs when he's not working. At one point, he tells the crew that he can't imagine what retirement means because stagnation will not look good on him. And it's true, he worked until his death six years later. I think I learned that if I truly want what I think I want, then I know I'm not working hard enough. Like a thunderstorm, the power, sophistication, and beauty of Duke's orchestras always excited and impressed me. Watching it happen in the making reinforced that notion.

91. Duke Ellington & His Orchestra / Never No Lament: The Blanton-Webster Band (2003)

This superb 3-disc set from Bluebird compiles all the master takes  from 1940-42, plus a handful of juicy alternate takes. These sides are for the Duke catalog what the Complete Decca Recordings are for Basie. The comparisons should generally end there, but I just want to convey how important they are not only to the group, but to the notion of jazz itself. And finally, justice was done to this historic music in terms of packaging and audio quality (I say finally, but we've had this set for 10 years now), a clear improvement over previous digital offerings. If you already own RCA's Complete Duke Ellington set and you're only a casual listener, then there isn't much to entice you into repurchasing. But if you lean the way of the completist, or you're more serious about your collection, then you really need to have this on your shelf. It's many people's favorite Duke orchestra, and in hindsight the stand looks like a murderer's row of jazz legends. Of course you get Ben Webster and Jimmy Blanton, but there's also Cootie and Cat Anderson, Sonny Greer, Juan Tizol, Ray Nance, Rex Stewart.... the list goes on and on, without even getting into the vocalists. I'm not going to bother talking about individual tracks because we all have our favorites, and there isn't a lemon in the bunch. Above all, this music proves that eloquence is truly timeless.

69. Chico Hamilton Quintet with Eric Dolphy / The Original Ellington Suite (1958)

I'm a fan of pianoless jazz groups in general, and no offense to the piano. The dynamics of such a group change without a baby grand to rally around, and a skilled leader like Hamilton can take proceedings into interesting territory. Comping duties fall to guitarist John Pisano (who also has sweet leads) and cellist Nate Gershman. None of this stopped Pacific from losing the tapes and test pressing, rediscovered inside another Chico sleeve in Brighton, England. I'm happy it found its way to Michael Cuscuna who issued the CD, and kudos to the collector who found the test pressing. The music's just great, some of the most refreshing and easygoing jazz I've heard in a while. Dolphy's alto, flute, or clarinet anchor an intimately swinging mood on staples like "In a Sentimental Mood," "I'm Beginning to See the Light," or the talkative "It Don't Mean a Thing." But all the cuts are good. If you're not sold on the cello, listen to that last track, or maybe its warm and reedy tone on "Day Dream" which retains all the emotional import the melody should have, but lacks the sometimes corny sentimentality of a violin.

67. Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins (1962)

By all accounts a long time in the making, the result of this collaboration is worth the wait. Scaled back arrangements showcase the soloists and focus, of course, on the eloquent, mellifluous tenor of Coleman Hawkins. It's a relaxed and familiar session, with some hot blowing by everyone, especially Ray Nance ("Wanderlust"), Johnny Hodges ("You Dirty Dog"), and Lawrence Brown, who are clearly inspired by Hawk's presence. The affair starts with the loose and tumbling Latin groove of "Limbo Jazz," recorded secretly by Van Gelder and capturing a riotous continuo scat vocal by Sam Woodyard. Late in the tune, Hawk is invited to join the fun. We are treated to a sublime "Mood Indigo," where the star takes chorus after chorus until bowing out in the last bar. This exhilarating performance always leaves me excited for what comes next. The record really feels like Duke during "Ray Charles' Place" when they do some ensemble figures in powerful, transcendent chords. Hawk dives right in the middle and has ample support from the group who seem to draw up the whole tune up around him. Lawrence Brown has some nice solos throughout the album, notably on 'Wanderlust" and "The Jeep is Jumpin'." I think Hawk's best moments occur in the aforementioned "Mood Indigo" but the honorary "Self Portrait of the Bean" runs a close second and is as near to Hawk's thesis as we're going to get this side of "Body and Soul." 

37. Duke Ellington / Ellington Uptown (1952)

It seems like Ellington Uptown gets short shrift, which could put off a listener who hasn't heard it. It really needs another look because it's an excellent album, and the orchestration and arrangements are especially good. Duke's work is like pizza: when it's good it's great and when it's bad... well, was it ever bad? Be honest. Even when it wasn't that great, it was still better than most everything else. By comparison, I think some of Duke's legacy is unfairly praised. All the "three minute masterpieces" are cracking good sides, but they're not all on the same level, and so the mediocre ones are elevated to a higher status partly by association and partly by critics who haven't listened to them all. Yet Duke's work from the 1950's languishes in the shadows, right at the moment when his famous soloists had matured and were really hitting a stride. With that in mind, this set swings really hard and practically lifts you off the floor. The arrangements are the full-length concert arrangements, closer to what the band was doing on stage rather than something they cooked up just for the record. There's even a live cut ("Skin Deep") with a famous drum solo by Louie Bellson. My favorite moment, on an album filled with favorite moments, is listening to Betty Roche sing "Take the 'A' Train." She had such a fun and playful style, like improvising a scat vocal that self consciously stabs at bebop. I love it when she sings her last line and leans off the microphone as the massed band blows in behind her. It sounds like the girl is falling backwards into an approaching tidal wave. So enjoy these chestnuts, which may be another example of Duke reinterpreting his back catalog, but are also a darned good example of what this band was all about.  

12. Duke Ellington / Three Suites

Here we have interpretations of "Nutcracker" and "Peer Gynt," along with the Duke's own "Suite Thursday." Ellington and Strayhorn have the uncanny arranger's sense for wrapping an original composer's ideas around a new score. Yet this classical-to-jazz amalgam goes beyond Gershwin and is apart from what I consider the third stream. It's a new concept of jazz orchestration that sings to the strengths of the soloists, who do a magnificent job breathing life into the music while avoiding the pitfalls of stereotyping. The score crackles with imagination and the performances are a credit to the band as much as the leader. The notion of Paul Gonsalves blowing a chorus for ballet (listen to the rechristened "Peanut Brittle Brigade") is a tough sell on paper, but to hear it executed with success is an inspired feat of musicianship. Grieg's work is treated with similar respect, retaining atmosphere with reimagined orchestral textures, bursting with big chords and hot solos. I grin hearing the archetypal "Hall of the Mountain King," and I have either Carl Stalling or Nintendo's Tetris to thank for that.

09. Dizzy Gillespie & His Orchestra / A Portrait of Duke Ellington (1960)

This is a portrait of Dizzy Gillespie doing Duke Ellington, and the set doesn't sound a bit like Ellington or Billy Strayhorn. I'm impressed with how clearly Gillespie's voice comes through. For instance, Ellington may have written it, but when he plays the sparse and striking "Things Ain't What They Used to Be," it's all Gillespie's blues. The 15-piece orchestra seems a touch soft or underutilized in Fisher's charts, certainly not as punchy as the Duke's band, but a few of his patiently developed arrangements create additional melancholic depth ("Chelsea Bridge" and "Come Sunday" come to mind). All arrangements put a focus on the leader, and to this end the result is dazzling. Playful orchestral counterpoint is notable in "Caravan," followed by some of the Dizzy's most beautiful playing in "Sophisticated Lady."