For the most part, the best Art Pepper could do in 1972 when this set was issued was listen to and talk about old performances and old tapes. He recorded only one album during an extended period of inactivity stretching from 1968 to 1975.
Mac “Dr. John” Rebenack’s soulful plea for the resurrection of his beloved New Orleans comes on funky and optimistic on the opener “Keep on Goin’,” but on the next tune, “Time For A Change,” with Eric Clapton, Rebenack’s showing a little fed-upedness with lines like “Stop the money made at the cost of life.”
This set, recorded May 1959 in Paris during a Jazz at the Philharmonic tour finds Sonny Stitt on the Oscar Peterson guest list mostly playing alto with some tenor thrown in for good measure.
Back in 1969, five years before Vince Guaraldi jazzed up Christmas music for "A Charlie Brown Christmas," Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn conceived of and superbly executed this delightfully good-humored jazz version of Tchaikovsky's "The Nutcracker Suite."
Ellington and Strayhorn made up hip new names for Peter Ilich's originals, like "Sugar Rum Cherry" and "Toot Toot Tootie Toot" (Dance of the Reed-Pipes), but even without the novelty titles, you'd know The Duke was going for lightness and good humor.
The suite will be familiar to all, but the retelling as a jazz tale will be novel. The orchestra with Hodges, Carney, Gonzalves, Ray Nance and all the other great vets including drummer Sam Woodyard, swing their way easily through these rhythmically charged, nimbly struck arrangements.
My only criticism here are the short sides. Each is over too quickly.
The recording, produced in Los Angeles May through June of 1960 is clean, crisp and three dimensional, though the mix is more 3 track than stereo, with instruments panned fairly hard left and right with a prominent center fill and little to the its sides until you get to the hard left/right stuff.
Still, despite the somewhat dated staging, the recording quality itself is superb. The horns have a full, brassy swagger, the reeds plenty of buzzy warmth and Woodyard's drum kit is nicely developed with a juicy, woody rim shot that pops brilliantly and crisply chiming cymbals. Ellington's piano is also nicely recorded and there's an emphasis on close-miked percussion that helps make this an audiophile's delight.
A nice blend of direct, closely miked sound and chamber reverb produce a big, exciting picture you'll wrap your ears around with pleasure.
Kevin Gray and Steve Hoffman's mastering and the quiet Pallas pressing make this reissue superior to the original, though if you have a clean one of those, you don't need this.
Though it was issued by Pure Pleasure last Spring, now's the time to remind you of this swinging Christmas record, perfect for right now!
I've been loving my original pressing for years. It's a record that comes out every Christmas. Get it and I guarantee it will become a tradition in your house every holiday season for years to come.
The proliferation of Blue Note reissues on double vinyl, SACD and most recently XRCD has led to the inevitable negative reaction with some people complaining that the label’s mythological status is overblown.
For some reason, this album became a Top 10 hit in America, but the Brits knew better and stayed away. Recorded live at a Toronto rock festival during which Lennon had fallen ill, the album features the Plastic Ono Band of Lennon, Yoko Ono, Eric Clapton, Klaus Voorman (bass and cover artist for Revolver) and Yes drummer Alan White doing a blah set of covers the Beatles had done better (“Money,” “Blue Suede Shoes,” and Dizzy Miss Lizzy,” plus “Yer Blues”) along with two new Lennon tunes, “Cold Turkey” and “Give Peace a Chance,” the hit single that drove album sales.
This extraordinary document recorded by Young during a two night stand at small club on the University of Michigan campus in Ann Arbor back in November of 1968 is about as intimate and revealing a performance as you’re likely to find in the singer’s catalog.
Look, if your idea of “jazz-rock” fun is David Clayton Thomas’ edition of “Blood Sweat and Tears, I’m not going to try to change your mind, but if you want the real jazz-rock and psych star of that era, you need to hear this ridiculously neglected Spirit album originally issued on Epic in the fall of 1970 that Sundazed has smartly resurrected.
Sea Change, Beck's late-afternoon, mid-tempo reverie of an album, harkens back to the great old days of painstaking production, carefully drawn arrangements, and a concern for—and love of—sound and musical textures for their own sakes. Tempi are languid, notes are caressed, and gaping atmospheric spaces welcome listeners willing to be drawn in.
When Buffalo Springfield broke up, Neil Young set about building his solo career. The high-production work with Jack Nitzsche that had created classics like “Expecting to Fly” and “Broken Arrow” brought Neil back to the producer/keyboardist/orchestrator, who gained fame working with Phil Spector but the results on Young’s eponymous debut album were not as memorable. In fact, many critics and fans alike back in 1969 considered the album a disappointment and a misstep.
Josie Cotton, best known for her “controversial” 1980 song “Johnny Are You Queer” that turned into a minor international phenomenon while outraging evangelical types and has a back story worthy of a mini-novel, returns with a high low-concept album. You can search the internet for the backstory and watch her perform the song on YouTube.
The classic Phil Spector Christmas album is Sundazed’s holiday gift to us all. Mastered in glorious mono from the original mono master tape (while Phil didn’t do stereo the late Larry Levine, Gold Star Studio's premier engineer produced a very good stereo mix in the early 1970's).
When Bob Dylan “plugged in” at Newport back in ’65 the legion of original fans went bonkers, jeering and booing, but Dylan persevered and his popularity grew as the much larger rock audience tuned in, thanks in part to covers by The Byrds on their first album.
In his annotation, jazz critic/social commentator Nat Hentoff writes about this 1959 meeting between tenor sax legend Ben Webster and baritone sax smooth talker Gerry Mulligan: “It seems to me that even the most rash liner note writer has to pause before predicting the longevity of the session he’s assigned to introduce, but it requires neither courage nor obtuseness to underline the obvious likelihood that this one will be listened to as long as anyone cares about jazz.”