202. Flying Island / Flying Island (1975)

The self-titled debut from the fruitful but short lived Connecticut group Flying Island has excellent music to offer and deserves wider recognition. Things begin with a sharply executed "Funky Duck," but the material takes interesting turns into weirder territory and more aggressive textures like on "Flying Island" and "I Love to Dance." The music proceeds across shifting time signatures in tradeoffs between Fred Fraioli's electric violin and keyboards by Jeff Bova. Fraioli speaks in squalling, anthemic strokes, sometimes smooth, sometimes menacing, bookended by his fiery runs and escalated, wailing solos. Also present are guitarist Ray Smith, bassist Thom Preli, and drummer Bill Bacon. Smith and Bacon emerge as superb players that make the album much heavier than your typical mid-70s fusion outing. After the violin-keyboard pyrotechnics are over, their work is often the force that distinguishes the band from dozens of similar acts. Flying Island and the follow-up Another Kind of Space should interest fans of higher profile names in '70s fusion like Jean-luc Ponty, Weather Report, or Mahavishnu Orchestra. The musicians are competent and talented, and the total package is professional and well rehearsed. Yet it is not without the spark needed to bring a studio take home for the listener. Highly recommended!

101. Buddy Tate / The Texas Twister (1975)

Tate was with Basie in the early days but has many dates to his own name and was a leader whose career lasted well into the '90s. His sound on The Texas Twister is large and assured, with occasional wailing outbursts, but it's less assertive than some other horns associated with the Count, like Eddie Davis or Illinois Jacquet. And I like that, too. But the music on Twister swings close to the Basie band in more ways than one. To start with, there's the addition of Paul Quinchette on tenor. The first number "The Texas Twister" is an uptempo 32-bar intro to the proceedings that showcases both horns (Tate on the left, Quinchette on the right), and has game piano work by Cliff Smalls. I thought it could easily go a few more rounds but the leaders opted to be concise and it's off to the next tune once the front line gets back to the head. Further in the Basie vein of blues-based small group swing, we also get Tate singing a la Jimmy Rushing in several cuts, including two installments of "Take Me Back Baby" that showcase Tate's sweet vocal and the impact of opposed horns. The arrangements feature some expected dueling, a mature and more relaxed but no less exciting form of the stylistic counterpoint from the old days. It happens between Tate and Cliff Smalls, too, as in "Talk of the Town." Tate opens the tune in a whispering voice that is soon hammered by Smalls' angular piano statements directly on top of the beat. Tate returns to state his piece every bit as eloquently and reserved as before, endowing the ballad with some very poignant sensibilities. Tate also plays clarinet, on "Chicago" and the closer "Gee Baby," adding further depth to the quintet. It's a good session and thoroughly enjoyable listen with a few hidden surprises.