Old Friends Don’t Sit on Park Benches Like Bookends

Eighty Eight's, the new jazz label from Yasohachi "88" Itoh (Eighty-Eights.com, a division of Sony Music Japan's Village Records), charged out of the starting gate this past winter with an ambitious series of eight audiophile-quality jazz recordings. Itoh is well known to '70s audiophiles for his legendary East Wind series of "Direct Cutting," direct-to-disc recordings. Among the most highly sought after of the series is The L.A. 4's Pavane Pour Une Infante Defunte (EW 10003, 1977). The title tune is a jazz rendering of the Ravel piece arranged by The L.A. 4's guitarist, Laurindo Almeida. The other three of the quartet are Bud Shank (flute/saxophone) and the superb rhythm team of Ray Brown and Shelly Manne. Groove Note recently reissued Just Friends (1978), another L.A. 4 recording, on SACD and on two 45-rpm, 180-gram vinyl discs. (That will be reviewed here shortly.)


The label's name comes from Itoh's first name, which happens to be the Japanese character for the number 88. Thus the apostrophe in the label's name. Six of the eight titles in the label's opening series were engineered by the great David Baker at NYC's famed Avatar Studios and recorded direct to DSD for SACD release, as well as to 30-ips half-inch analog tape for the LP. Thus, should you wish, you can compare all digital and all analog recordings of the same mic feeds.


On Friendship, by Clark Terry and Max Roach, the two aging but still vital jazz greats are joined by keyboard veteran and former Riverside recording artist Don Friedman and bassist Marc McLaurine--a longtime musical associate of Terry. The 79-year-old Roach (the bopster who drummed in Charlie Parker's quintet) and 82-year-old Terry (the big-band trumpet and flugelhorn giant who played with Count Basie and Duke Ellington and went on to mainstream recognition as a member of Johnny Carson's "Tonight Show" band led by Doc Severinsen) demonstrate a relaxed affinity for each other's style on this positively inspired and superbly recorded set.


While the quartet tracks like Monk's "Let's Cool One" and the Jimmy Van Heusen ballad "But Beautiful" show how effectively these veterans can mesh on a moment's notice, it's the Roach/Terry duo tracks that really light up the set. Roach seems not to have lost even half a step from his complex, ever-shifting timekeeping over the many years he's been playing. Despite his busy approach, his work never sounds forced or overwhelming. And because he doesn't grandstand or play "big," you may miss the swirls of tonal and textural color he delivers if you don't pay careful attention. Check out the short, intricate Terry-penned "Brushes and Brass," based on a simple figure which Terry explores on muted trumpet. Beyond the textures he gets using the brushes, Roach almost makes his kit sing a tune as he seemingly tunes and detunes his snare on the fly. It's some of the most lyrical drumming you'll ever hear.


The two fill the musical spaces with so much color and detail it's easy to forget there are just the two of them on most tracks--thanks in part to Baker's superb recording, which allows the timbral and spatial qualities of each piece in Roach's arsenal to fully develop. Baker also gets a gorgeously warm but not overripe or bulbous rendering of Terry's flügelhorn, which Terry plays with a joyous relaxation that shows more emphasis on intent than on mechanics. Youngsters might outplay him technically, but they'd never get the depth of feeling he communicates. As a listener, you'll soak it up like a sponge and still feel dry.


The recording is interesting for its monophonic-like soundstage--it's almost as if Baker was going for an approximation of Rudy Van Gelder's best 1950s work. The images are front, forward, and center in huge relief. And because Baker's miking technique manages to caress the instruments instead of swallowing them or putting them in the distance, you won't miss--and you may not even notice--the lack of lateral separation.


I don't mean to short the quartet's work, because the ballad playing is absolutely gorgeous--especially their take on Benny Golson's melancholic "I Remember Clifford," written about the late trumpeter Clifford Brown, who died in a car crash at 35. An appropriate selection, since Roach and Brown were playing together at the time of Brown's death. If you know the tune from The Modern Jazz Quartet's version on European Concert, that one was stately and sad; this one is melancholic.


As between the DSD SACD and analog LP, we're talking about two different worlds--and it's not caused by the differences in playback in my system. Another super disc in this series, Marlena Shaw's Live in Tokyo (VRJL 7007 LP/VRGL 8807 SACD), was recorded to DSD only, with both the LP and the CD cut from the DSD master. On my reference front end (Simon Yorke/Immedia RPM-2 arm, Graham 2.2 arm, Lyra Titan, Transfiguration Temper with Manley Steelhead) the LP sounds remarkably close to the SACD via the DCS Verdi/Elgar, though even digital diehards found the LP, for whatever reasons, had more convincing and natural dynamic gradations.


But with Friendship, the Japanese-pressed LP edition has a honey-warmth and richness missing on its SACD counterpart, which sounds somewhat clinical and cold by comparison. It's as if the LP is what you'd hear in the studio, while the SACD sounds like what you'd hear in the control booth. The SACD is "faster" and more clinical, with somewhat more explosive bass, but the LP remains the one to have (no surprise). A highly recommended set in either format, and a label we'll be covering in detail. Mail-order distribution for Eighty Eight's is handled by Acoustic Sounds.

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