JazzWax

Who Killed Jazz and When?

Why and when did jazz cease to be mainstream music? Many fans and jazz legends I talk to wryly point to the Beatles' arrival at Kennedy Airport in 1964. Others cite Elvis Presley's TV appearance in 1956. But both charges seem unfair, really. These cultural events merely were the effects of trends set in motion years earlier, not the cause of jazz's jolt. Besides, one art form is never accountable for the decline of another. Other factors are always at play, some more surprising than others.

The best argument I've heard for jazz's declining popularity in the mid-1950s and 1960s revolves around jazz's abandonment of dance music in the late 1940s. As jazz became more focused on technique and prowess and less on entertainment, the argument goes, the music ceased to have large-scale social significance. Once jazz and jazz musicians began to take themselves too seriously and the music catered to distant outsiders rather than the jukebox, a beat-hungry generation turned elsewhere for its soundtrack.

But was jazz's growing sophistication in the mid-1950s calculated snobbery or simply the natural maturation of an art form? Did jazz really undermine itself by cultivating a cool and detached mystique instead of engaging the youth culture, which rock 'n' roll did so shrewdly in the years that followed? Or was jazz simply too self-respecting to meet the callow demands of the 45-rpm-obsessed youth culture of the mid-1950s?

The moment jazz decided it was an art form that required listeners rather than dancers, its mass appeal was in jeopardy. High art, by definition, has value, and value has little currency in America, where the next hot thing always trumps integrity. What jazz failed to recognize during those crucial years in the early 1950s was the emerging commercial power of the youth culture and its relative disinterest in creative genius. Jazz's reluctance or inability to satisfy this influential market's thirst for excitement and stimulation was a fatal error. The "let them come to us" attitude so prevalent in jazz then and now forfeited a critical advantage to r&b and rock 'n' roll that it never regained.

Jazz musicians themselves also played a role in the music's declining mass appeal. In the early 1950s, jazz increasingly required musicians who had a strong knowledge of music theory, composition and arranging. The total number of musicians playing jazz declined compared to the 1930s and 1940s, when hundreds of bands played dance music. Once jazz made a conscious decision to become high art, fewer musicians were accomplished enough to compete or excel at it.

By the mid-1950s, the opportunities for marginal jazz musicians dried up as proficient headliners consolidated audiences. Those musicians who found jazz too challenging or couldn't land gigs or recording deals gravitated toward the blues, r&b and jump boogie. This music was a lot easier to play comparatively, it emphasized a steady beat for dancers, and it had much more stage and sex appeal—all elements that jazz had abandoned in its bid to be high art.

Compounding jazz's troubles during the late 1940s and 1950s were jazz musicians themselves. Many jazz musicians admired r&b artists and quietly played on r&b recordings. Who could blame them? Like everyone else, jazz musicians had families and bills to pay, and many artists needed to supplement incomes that concert jazz couldn't satisfy. So from the late 1940s onward, jazz musicians like James Moody, Ben Webster [pictured], Tadd Dameron and so many others played, toured and recorded intermittently with r&b bands. I even heard Sonny Rollins confess recently that he admired Louis Jordan when he was coming up.

Jazz musicians didn't trawl for the extra work. They often were the ones hotly pursued by r&b artists and emerging labels eager to add cache and chops to their record dates. Jazz musicians also were less likely to goof up and cause costly retakes. As James Miller writes in the superb Flowers in the Dustbin: The Rise of Rock and Roll, 1947-1977:

"One of the songs Wynonie Harris sang on December 29, 1947, Good Rockin' Tonight, would become a best-selling hit, played on jukeboxes and aired on radio stations across black America. And by popularizing the word 'rock,' Harris' recording would herald a new era in American popular culture...The band consisted of seasoned musicians, most of them jazzmen like Oran "Hot Lips" Page. [pictured]"

Like many top jazz musicians in late 1947, Hot Lips Page was in search of a viable payday just prior to the musician's union recording ban of 1948. As strange as it may seem now, Hot Lips would play a small but vital role in rock's ascent.

As the 1950s wore on, other jazz greats were lured to Hollywood to compose and arrange for television and the movies. The rewards and recognition were too big to pass up. Some jazz artists even helped marginal rock acts get started. One of these jazz musicians, writes Mick Brown in the newly published and excellent Tearing Down the Wall of Sound: The Rise and Fall of Phil Spector, was guitarist Barney Kessel:

"Kessel was [Phil] Spector's idol, and Spector even got to meet Kessel when he was 15 years old...Kessel offered Spector some surprising advice in 1957. It was one thing to love jazz and to play it, [Kessel] told [Spector], but he would not recommend a career as a jazz musician. Philip should look at the big picture. Fashions in music were cyclical, and jazz was on the downswing; it was rock and roll that people wanted to listen to now. If Philip wanted to make a career in music he should be thinking of becoming a songwriter or a record producer...

"Shortly after meeting Spector, Kessel would take Ricky Nelson [pictured], the 16-year-old star of the television program The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, and produce his first record, a cover version of Fats Domino's I'm Walkin, which went on to sell more than 1 million copies. Kessel would go on to perform on countless pop sessions for artists including Elvis Presley and the Beach Boys as well as working with Spector himself."

So when Alan Kurtz wondered in a post at Jazz.com earlier this week why jazz and Cyrus Chestnut are so obsessed with Elvis, the answer is that jazz musicians directly or indirectly made Elvis possible. Why shouldn't they share in the King's riches? The bigger question I suppose, is this: Why after all these years content to be high art does jazz continue its silly pursuit of mass-market approval? The fact is, for jazz to survive, it must remain high art. Once it dumbs down and rushes after the mass market, it will truly become road kill. There simply are too many other forms of disposable music out there that are far better at cashing in on tastes and trends.

Ultimately, art moves with money, and eventually money corrupts the quality and purity of art, transforming it from personal expression to commercial manipulation. Jazz's popularity waned in the 1960s because in the late 1940s and throughout the 1950s, jazz made a conscious decision to be high art, and not all musicians were gifted or financially able to make the sacrifices imposed on serious artists. There's nothing jazz or jazz musicians or record company executives could have done to stop the shifting sands. The fact that jazz has survived as long as it has remains something of a miracle. We can thank the hundreds of artists who remained true to jazz's origins and traditions over the years despite the commercial hardships. Good taste may not pay well but it lasts longer than faddish Faustian bargains.

So, who's ultimately responsible for knocking jazz out of the mainstream box? It wasn't Elvis or the Beatles. Or the Vietnam War. Or television. Jazz musicians simply decided that they would not compromise what they were playing or developing to satisfy a teen craving. Their biggest error, I suppose, was not realizing that the emerging popularity of r&b and rock wasn't a fad but a revolution. But what of it? Kids were never going to hang out in basements necking to Thelonious Monk or Clifford Brown. And America is better off for it. Ultimately, jazz is for listening, not dancing. Jazz should stop worrying about Elvis and the Beatles, and think a little more about preserving the joy and art of Bird, Louis, Miles, Max and the Duke.

Jimmy McGriff (1936-2008)

I liked Jimmy McGriff but I was never a huge fan. A tad too much funk and filler for me on many albums whereas Groove Holmes, Brother Jack McDuff and Charles Earland were in it to win it on nearly everything they played. But when McGriff worked the organ's keys and pedals on just the right tune—usually covers of soul and r&b hits—he could get greasier than nearly than any other Hammond B-3 practitioner.

McGriff, who died on May 24, came up through gospel, and he played a meaty role in inspiring and advancing the soul-jazz genre of the early 1970s. As pop and rock continued to shred jazz's mainstream appeal in the 1960s and jazz became freer and duller, organists steeped in the blues and church traditions filled the lyrical void. By covering songbook standards and soul hits for listeners with jazz sensibilities, they achieved pop success on their own terms.

When you think about it, the crossover by organists to soul wasn't such a stretch. The talents of most artists like Marvin Gaye [pictured], Stevie Wonder and Curtis Mayfield were forged in the choir. Organists like McGriff were simply restoring soul's gospel roots to r&b songs and adding funky tempos built largely on the boogaloo beat.

For me, the best of McGriff's catalog divides into two distinct categories—jazz standards and soul hit interpretations. The drawn-out funky stuff tends to grow old fast once the novelty of the song's riff wears off. But by recognizing that soul singles could be enhanced when given the organ treatment, McGriff created a new genre in the late 1960s and paved the way for Charles Earland [pictured], Leon Spencer and other organists who, in the 1970s, covered hits by artists like the Carpenters, Marvin Gaye, B.J. Thomas and the Spiral Staircase.

In tribute to Jimmy McGriff, here are my 10 favorite tracks—five smart jazz interpretations and five soul covers. All can be found as downloads at iTunes or Amazon unless otherwise noted:

1. Cute. Recorded in 1966, this swinger featured Ernie Royal, Richard Williams, Jimmy Nottingham, Joe Newman on trumpets; Tom McIntosh, Paul Faulise, Wayne Andre and Tony Studd on trombones; Jerome Richardson and Frank Wess on alto saxes; Billy Mitchell and Budd Johnson on tenor sax; Seldon Powell on baritone sax; McGriff on organ; Barry Galbraith on guitar; Richard Davis on bass; and Mel Lewis on drums. McGriff swings this Neal Hefti composition all the way through. It's on Jimmy McGriff's The Big Band: A Tribute to Basie.

2. The Way You Look Tonight. McGriff takes this standard at a rollicking pace, with Eric Gale and Everett Barksdale on guitars, Milt Hinton on bass and Grady Tate on drums. The tune originally was on a 1966 release called Cherry but now can be found on The Best of the Headfirst Years.

3. Yardbird Suite. McGriff gives Charlie Parker's tune a strong walking bass line on the pedal boards and a squealing keyboard workout. Joining McGriff were Ronald Arnold on tenor sax, George Freeman and John Thomas on guitars, and Marion Booker on drums. This tune came out on Fly Dude in 1972. It's now on 100% Pure Funk.

4. Because of You. In the 1980s, McGriff worked extensively with tenor saxophonist Hank Crawford. They recorded this Tony Bennett hit on Soul Survivors (1986), which also featured George Benson and Jim Pittsburgh on guitars, and Bernard Purdie and Mel Lewis on drums. You'll find it on The Best of Hank Crawford and Jimmy McGriff, under Hank Crawford's name.

5. Soul Street. McGriff works over this Oliver Nelson blues like nobody's business. On this date, Bill Easley and Gordon Beadle are on tenor saxes, Ronnie Cuber is on baritone sax, Melvin Sparks and Rodney Jones are on guitar, Wilbur Bascomb is on bass, Bernard Purdie and Don Williams are on drums. The track is on McGriff Avenue (2001). Unfortunately you have to download the entire album to get it. Sample it and see what you think.

6. Let's Stay Together. McGriff gives this Al Green soul hit the organ plus horns and conga treatment, and he winds up matching Green, in my opinion. I only wish it ran for another five minutes. On this date were Billy Skinner (trumpet), Tricky Lofton  (trombone), Harold Bennett (flute and saxes), Larry Frazier on guitar, Willie "Saint" Jenkins or Jesse Kilpatrick on drums, and James Peacock (cga,tamb). It was recorded in 1972 on Let's Stay Together, the tracks of which can be downloaded individually at Amazon.

7. What's Goin' On? McGriff was one of the first organists to cover Marvin Gaye's 1971 soul anthem less than a year after its release. It's on the Let's Stay Together album mentioned above and can be downloaded at Amazon.

8. Theme from Shaft. Yet another great track from Let's Stay Together. A jazz-funk interpretation of the Isaac Hayes movie theme.

9. Mercy, Mercy, Mercy. Recorded in 1982 and released originally on McGriff's The Groover, this 1966 song technically was a jazz hit first, recorded by the Cannonball Adderley Quintet. But the tune quickly became a soul-pop classic. McGriff is joined here by Arnold Sterling on alto sax, Billy Butler on guitar, Bob Cranshaw on bass, Belton Evans on drums and Ray Mantilla on percussion. It can be downloaded from Blues Groove.

10. We're a Winner. McGriff's cover of Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions' 1967 r&b hit was released on Honey (1968), which may be McGriff's best and most important album. Sadly, it's out of print and not available on CD or as a download, which is truly a shame. Also a shame is that the personnel was not listed on the album. To give you a sense of how great the album is, the soul cover tracks include Since You've Been Gone; Respect; Chain of Fools; We're a Winner; Up, Up and Away; and Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay.

JazzWax video clip: Go here and dig a clip of Jimmy playing and rapping about his technique for winning over a club audience on the Hammond. Go here for a McGriff tribute that was put up just a few days ago. 

Hawk Meets the Big Sax Section

For much of Coleman Hawkins' post-1940 career, the tenor saxophonist fronted quartets, quintets and other small groups. When he did play with full-size orchestras, Hawk was typically the featured soloist, not a sit-down, chart-reading member of the reed section. So unfortunately you don't often get to hear how the flavor of a superb reed section might change with Hawk's mighty tenor as part of the mix.

Hawk also didn't play much with Count Basie's band. Which makes perfect sense, since Hawk and Lester Young, Basie's star tenor saxophonist, were intense rivals. Hawk recorded with Basie [pictured] on only a few occasions— in January 1941 as poll-winning members of the Metronome All Stars; with Basie's big band in April 1941 (Young was fronting his own band and working with Billie Holiday at the time); and in December 1957 for CBS' The Sound of Jazz, the noir TV jam session.

Long curious to know how Hawk's confident, cutting tone would sound within Basie's bluesy sax section, Savoy Records' producer Ozzie Cadena [pictured] proposed a recording summit in early 1958. Hawk agreed, and Basie gave his blessing. So on April 24, right after Basie's band returned from a Canadian tour and just before Hawk left for Europe with Jazz at the Philharmonic, nine musicians converged on Rudy Van Gelder's recording studio in New Jersey. Cadena oversaw the session for World Wide Records.

For the date, Marshall Royal and Frank Wess were on alto saxes; Frank Foster and Hawk were on tenors; and Charlie Fowlkes was on baritone sax. The only reed player missing was Billy Mitchell, who had just joined Basie months earlier on tenor and was the sax player dropped to make room for Hawk. The rhythm section featured guitarist Freddie Green and bassist Eddie Jones, both Basie-ites, and Bobby Donaldson on drums and Nat Pierce on piano. [pictured above]

To ensure that the session went off without a scoring hitch, Cadena turned to rock-solid Billy Ver Planck [pictured, right] for the swinging arrangements. Ver Planck, a trombonist, had written for the Jimmy Dorsey and Claude Thornhill bands, and in 1958 was recording for Savoy.

The result was Coleman Hawkins Meets the Saxophone Section, which was first released on World Wide to show off the label's newfound stereo capability. Recorded only in stereo (rather than mono and stereo), many jazz listeners passed on the LP, since the more expensive stereo format was relatively new technology and most people had only mono equipment. Ultimately, the recording also was released on Savoy as Coleman Hawkins Meets the Big Sax Section.

The five tracks recorded that day included three blues and two show tunes—I've Grown Accustomed to Her Face and There Is Nothing Like a Dame. The first track on the album, Ooga Dooga, is particularly fascinating given that Hawk does not solo. Instead, you get to hear how the section sounds with Hawk as one of two tenors reading down Ver Planck's charts. The standards also are stunning swingers, with Hawk tearing in and out of Frederick Lowe's loping Face and Richard Rodgers' charging Dame.

This CD is a must own. It's a big 12-cylinder date from start to end, and you can hear Basie's reeds stepping up their game as Hawk bears down hard to impress the smoothest sax section in the business. You almost get the feeling on several tracks that Hawk was sending a message to the tenor star who wasn't in the studio that day—Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis [pictured].

Davis had left the Basie band just months earlier to work with organist Shirley Scott, but his dominant flavor still lingered. Just listen to Hawk's blowing on the alternate take of Thanks for the Misery. He's certainly taking Lockjaw to the woodshed. Never one to miss an opportunity, Hawk figured he might as well set Jaws straight.

For my money, Coleman Hawkins Meets the Saxophone Section may be one of the best and most robust reed-themed albums ever recorded. Every track lives up to the album's title, and you get everything you expect, from the sauciest blues to street-smart standards. There isn't a bad note on the album. It's just a shame that another five tracks weren't captured that day, 50 years ago last month.

JazzWax tracks: Unfortunately, Coleman Hawkins Meets the Big Sax Section (Savoy) isn't available as a download at iTunes or Amazon. However, you can buy the disc used here. Or you'll find the tracks on this Hawkins compilation here.

Hawk's April 1941 recordings with the Basie band, Feedin' the Bean and 9:20 Special, can be downloaded from The Essential Count Basie Volume 3 at Amazon here.

The January 1941 Metronome All Stars recording of Bugle Call Rag and One O'Clock Jump featuring Coleman Hawkins and Count Basie are on a splendid CD called Summit Meetings: Metronome All Stars and Esquire All Stars (1939-1950) here.

To hear Hawkins and Basie playing Dickie's Dream and I Left My Baby in 1957, you can buy The Sound of Jazz CD here. To see Basie, Hawk and this monster all-star band in action during a rehearsal, go here. This footage remains among the most exhilarating in jazz history. Dig Billie Holiday casually chatting with the Count in the middle of the session, as if he were just doing the dishes rather than driving the most swinging band ever assembled. You can buy the DVD of the rehearsal and CBS program here.

Solving the Sinatra Riddle

Soon after Frank Sinatra recorded Songs for Swingin' Lovers in October 1955 and January 1956, the significance of the Capitol LP became apparent. The album was Sinatra's first 12-inch record and one of pop music's first concept albums, providing upbeat nuzzlers with a thematic soundtrack. But Songs for Swingin' Lovers also featured a song with a call-and-response intro that would become forever identified with Sinatra's brassier interpretations.

The famed intro kicks off I've Got You Under My Skin, recorded by Sinatra on January 12, 1956. To update the Cole Porter standard, arranger Nelson Riddle added a catchy four-bar instrumental opener that announced the arrival of a new pop approach. To amp up the tune, Riddle paired a baritone sax and bass clarinet and had them run down a foot-tapping riff in unison. For impact, Riddle had Basie-like piano chords hit on the third and first beats. For texture, trombones parroted the thematic line in the background. The result was magic and would become the main ingredient for many Sinatra swingers going forward.

But Skin wasn't the first time Riddle used a version of this call-and-response gimmick. You can hear the figure's origins as far back as 1953 and in its more mature form on an obscure Nat King Cole Capitol date held just eight days before Sinatra's Skin session. The Cole record was Night Lights, and Riddle, under pressure, likely adapted what he had written for Cole to meet his Sinatra deadline.

As New York Sun critic Will Friedwald noted in Sinatra! The Song Is You, Sinatra added Skin to the Swingin' Lovers playlist on a whim: "At the very last minute [Sinatra] decided to include Skin on the session of January 12, 1956, which meant, Riddle recalled, that 'it was a work of pressure because I had to stay up quite late one night and finish it.' " Ironically, Nat King Cole's Night Lights session would not be released at the time and only surfaced as a CD in 2001. [pictured: Sinatra and Riddle in 1956]

I spent some time with Sinatra's Capitol singles yesterday to establish the genesis of Riddle's trademark intro for Sinatra and to see how Capitol adapted it for singles following the 1956 Songs for Swingin' Lovers date:

Take a Chance (December 1953). Here, a solitary bluesy tenor sax spirals downward on the intro, punctuated along the way by trumpets and then trombones. What you hear is the inkling of Riddle's signature interplay between sections of the orchestra to prime the listener and set up the singer.

Why Should I Cry Over You? (December 1953). Riddle kicks off this tune with the trumpet section riffing on variations of the same phrase. He offsets the trumpet fanfare with descending trombones, resolving the intro in a swirl of saxes before Sinatra comes in. Again, Riddle has the different sections engage in brassy conversation before Sinatra's voice quiets the instrumental commotion.

How Could You Do a Thing Like That to Me? (March 1955). This one kicks off with a baritone sax running down a 5-3, 6-2 Heart and Soul-like intro line with the other reeds responding in between. The intro starts with a strip-time beat but a wandering piano quickly extinguishes the heat in the fourth measure.

You'll Get Yours (September 1955). Here, Riddle's call-and-response model becomes more fleshed out as an alto and tenor sax are teamed with a trombone. As they read down the descending line, trombones and brass are added two bars into the four-bar intro.

Witchcraft (May 1957). Coming off the success of Skin a year earlier, Riddle employs a similar call-and-response figure for Witchcraft. But instead of pairing a baritone sax with bass clarinet and having them play off trombones, Riddle uses just a bass clarinet against gently honking trombones and flutes, adding an ethereal, descending string glissando two bars into the four-bar intro. This starter clearly is a Skin tribute and served as a commercial insurance policy. 

Hidden Persuasion (August 1960). The intro on this little-known Sinatra single playfully merges the openings used for Skin and Witchcraft. Riddle has a bass clarinet play off a flute, clarinet and trombone, adding a string glissando and cleverly resolving the minor-key intro on a major note.

Of course, Riddle would adapt his famous intro repeatedly for Sinatra when the singer left Capitol in 1960 to start his Reprise label. But in the late 1950s, the call-and-response starter became as synonymous with the Sinatra style as the fedora and raincoat over the shoulder.

JazzWax tracks: I've Got You Under My Skin is available at iTunes on Songs for Swingin' Lovers. All six of the Capitol singles mentioned above are available at iTunes on Frank Sinatra: The Complete Capitol Singles Collection.

To hear the intro to Nat King Cole's Night Lights, go here. Then compare the intro to I've Got You Under My Skin recorded eight days later here. To hear Hidden Persuasion, go here.

15 Hits Recorded on This Date

About 150 jazz recording sessions took place on this date (May 26) since 1904. After a bit of research and careful re-listening over the long weekend, I selected 15 standouts. Below are the results, in chronological order, captured in studios or live settings between 1925 and 1969. All can be downloaded at iTunes and, in many cases, Amazon:

1925—Careless Love Blues: Bessie Smith. Smith recorded this gritty blues backed by Louis Armstrong on cornet along with Nashville Women's Blues, which was used for the disc's B side. Careless Love Blues can be found on a terrific Bessie Smith collection called Itinerary of a Genius. The other track is on Bessie Smith Sings the Blues Vol. 1

1941—Intermezzo: Earl "Fatha" Hines. This piano masterpiece appears on an album called Savoy Blues. Hines also recorded Song of the Islands during the same live session, backed by Henry Levine on trumpet. It's on Way Down Yonder in New Orleans.

1941—A Hundred Years from Today: Jack Teagarden. As you listen to this track, you can still hear the 1930s jazz tradition lingering into the early 1940s thanks to Teagarden's marinated voice and tasteful playing. Also recorded on the same session were Black and Blue, Blue River and St. James Infirmary. All four recordings feature Teagarden in his soulful prime, and all can be found on Father of Jazz Trombone.

1948—Tonsillectomy: Boyd Raeburn. This sophisticated minor-key blues composition arranged by George Handy was recorded along with Begin the Beguine at the Hotel Commodore in New York. During the 1940s, Raeburn's bands were hot houses for talent and musical experimentation. Both tracks are on March of the Boyds: 1945-48.

1949—More Moon: Woody Herman. This powerhouse bop classic based on How High the Moon was arranged by Shorty Rogers and featured the slamming tenor of Gene Ammons, the cool vibes of Terry Gibbs, the scrappy trombone of Bill Harris, and the driving drums of Shelly Manne. Plus, Woody's clarinet comes and goes. The other track recorded this day was the odd novelty number The Crickets, arranged by Ralph Burns. Both are available on the Proper Records box, Woody Herman Story. But you can download a live version of More Moon at Amazon here.

1949—Elysees: J.J. Johnson. This unusual track by J.J. Johnson's Boppers was pianist John Lewis' answer to Miles Davis and Gerry Mulligan's Nonet sessions. It also was Sonny Rollins' fourth recording session. Listen as the track starts out cool but shifts to bop following Lewis' piano solo, as Rollins and J.J. seem unable to solo in the new, more laid back cool style. Also on the date were Kenny Dorham on trumpet, Leonard Gaskin on bass and Max Roach on drums. Opus V, Hilo and Fox Hunt also were recorded by this group on this date. All of the tracks are on Trombone By Three.

1952—Easy to Love: Billie Holiday. This Verve date was billed as Billie Holiday and Her Orchestra and featured Charlie Shavers, Flip Phillips, Oscar Peterson, Barney Kessel, Ray Brown and Alvin Stoller. The group recorded eight tracks on this date—and all appear on Billie Holiday Sings (Limited Edition).

1955—Social Call: Art Famer and Gigi Gryce. This brilliantly lyrical Gryce composition as well as Blue Lights, Infant's Song and Isle of Capri were captured in the same session. These tracks can be found on the classic Prestige release When Farmer Met Gryce.

1958—On Green Dolphin Street: The Miles Davis Sextet. Recorded 10 months before Kind of Blue, this recording and session remain for me the group's greatest and most influential date. Also recorded on this date by Miles, John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, Bill Evans, Paul Chambers and Jimmy Cobb were the equally spectacular Fran-dance, Stella by Starlight and Love for Sale. These tracks can be found on the Complete Columbia Recordings: Miles Davis and John Coltrane.

1958—Manteca: Gil Evans. This track along with Bird Feathers, featuring Cannonball Adderley were recorded on May 26. Both are on Gil Evans: The Complete Pacific Jazz Sessions. The entire album has the surging, swinging, brassy feel of Miles Ahead, but without Miles, of course.

1959—Moanin': Quincy Jones. The Bobby Timmons standard along with Happy Face were recorded for Quincy's Mercury album Birth of a Band. Moanin' can be found on Quincy Jones' Finest Hour.

1964—Time for Two: Bob Brookmeyer. This beautiful medium-tempo ballad with Stan Getz is on Bob Brookmeyer and Friends. Also recorded this day were The Wrinkle, Jive Hoot and Pretty Girl.

1964—Berkshire Blues: Rahsaan Roland Kirk. This uptempo blues includes an improvised vocal by Kirk that's reminiscent of Eddie Jefferson. This track, along with Japan and Dirty Money Blues, also recorded on May 26, are on the Complete Mercury Recordings of Roland Kirk.

1965—Dear Old Stockholm: John Coltrane. This 10:35 classic along with One Down, One Up; After the Crescent; and Dear Lord are on the Impulse release Dear Old Stockholm. The John Coltrane Quartet here featured Coltrane, McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Roy Haynes.

1969—Vashkar: Tony Williams. This track and much of drummer Tony Williams' Emergency! album was recorded on this date. This album would heavily influence the jazz-fusion groups to follow. Williams' Lifetime group included Larry Young on organ and John McLaughlin on guitar, and they sounded much larger than a trio.

Sunday Wax Bits

Bowing and arrows. I rather like writer Alan Kurtz's posts at Jazz.com. He's consistently controversial and always manages to keep his balance when out on a revisionist limb. He also likes to develop a new spin on a topic, which is refreshing in jazz criticism. This past week, Alan bravely took on the jazz bass and all those who play it with a post that featured this opening line: "Bass solos suck."

Alan went on to develop his thesis by saying that while jazz bass players have long known their place as accompanists, Scott LaFaro's domineering musical personality as a member of the Bill Evans Trio set a regressive standard for lengthy, imposing bass solos. Alan argues that thanks to LaFaro, yammering bass solos have become par and are about as interesting as listening to a metronome sing.

Ordinarily, I'd read Alan as a spectator. But for some reason I wound up among the chariots and lions. Hence my response here. In his essay, Alan said that my JazzWax post on Bill Evans back on December 9, 2007, was off the mark. In that post, I wrote that Lennie Tristano's abrupt walkout during a Bill Evans Trio performance was a result of Tristano's inability to cope with Bill's emerging genius. To the contrary, argued Alan, Lennie was more likely fed up with LaFaro's long solos.

Actually, I wasn't the one who concluded that Lennie had a Bill complex. That honor belongs to Lee Konitz [pictured], who was there that night and said the following in a 1990 interview in an issue of the now-defunct newsletter Letter from Evans:

"I think [Lennie] had a problem listening to some musicians...There was something about Tristano [pictured] that he was so strong in his opinions that everything compared with his standards fell into special places...I heard Bill Evans as a talented piano player, but still growing and not there yet in comparison with Tristano at the time. Anyway, it's obvious that the music Bill played reached very many people and the music Tristano played didn't."

Oh, and the reason there's so much Scott LaFaro on Sunday at the Village Vanguard? It has less to do with LaFaro's overbearing nature, as Alan claims. Orrin Keepnews [pictured below] told me in an interview in December 2007 that Bill was the one who personally selected the tracks for the first Vanguard album and chose to showcase LaFaro after the bassist's tragic death. Said Orrin: "Bill wanted the first album [from the 1961 live session], Sunday at the Village Vanguard, to place as much emphasis as possible on Scott. So both of the LaFaro originals we had recorded were on there—Gloria's Step and Jade Visions—as well as most of his solo work."

All in all, the jazz bass is an instrument of subtleties and grace. Not only are bass players charged with the challenging task of keeping impeccable time and laying down the rhythmic spine of any composition, they also have the impossible task of presenting ideas after the graceful piano and before the charismatic drums. No wonder most bass solos are forgotten or thought of as overstated. As for the part in Alan's post about overreaching, I couldn't agree more.

Art Tatum. I received quite a few emails last week from readers on the June 3d release of Art Tatum: Piano Starts Here. (Sony BMG Masterworks). The CD features a re-performance of Tatum's live Shrine Auditorium performance (1949). Tatum's notes from the sandy master were captured on special software, fed back clean through a mechanized concert grand piano and recorded by Sony. In my post, I reported that the result is rather startling and intriguing, and worth a listen given how warm and life-like the result is.

The voting was rather split between "the upcoming CD sounds interesting" to "how could they do something so outrageous?" Reader Jon Foley had this to say:

"A couple of thoughts: Any recording is only an approximation of the live performance. When you hear the original recording of Art Tatum at the Shrine Auditorium, you're not hearing Tatum but Tatum poorly recorded then poorly reproduced. Do you think that people sitting in the audience that day in 1949 heard a distant piano sound, accompanied by hiss, crackles and pops? Of course not. So when you listen to this new Piano Starts Here recording, the thought that you're not really hearing Art Tatum live should certainly cross your mind. But then, think which recording is closest to what Tatum must have sounded like that day. Both recordings are Art Tatum's live playing, modified by many electronic devices. The new one from Sony, I'm sure, comes closest to what the audience heard that night in 1949. That's about all that should count, in my opinion."

Thelonious Monk. Bret Primack—video documentarian extraordinaire—posted another brilliant interview with Riverside producer Orrin Keepnews, this time on the making of Thelonious Monk's Brilliant Corners. Concord Records released the album in March as part of its remastered Keepnews Collection series. Go here to view the video clip—and learn what bassist Oscar Pettiford did to get back at Monk during the recording session.

Bill Evans. Musician and blogger Darcy James Argue had a fabulous post this week at Secret Society on Bill Evans' early period, late period and East Coasting, with Charles Mingus. Darcy, when not blogging, directs an 18-piece big band called Secret Society. To learn more about Darcy and sample Secret Society, go here.

Jazz discography. Imagine being able to access the personnel for virtually any jazz recording with just a few clicks. Actually, such an online resource already exists. For $150 a year, you get unlimited access to Tom Lord's Jazz Discography, one of the web's most convenient jazz resources and databases. I love it, especially when I want to see how many times a song was recorded or who played on which recordings. To learn more about The Jazz Discography, go here (click on the red "Pricing and Ordering" button in the upper left-hand corner of the page and then the "Single User" link). I find it indispensable, especially in the age of note-less downloads.

Saxophone Summit. Bret Primack has just posted the first in a series of video podcasts on the Saxophone Summit. The podcast supports the group's June 3d release, Seraphic Light. Saxophone Summit includes Dave Liebman, Joe Lovano and Ravi Coltrane [pictured]. Go here to view the first installment.

Here's the release schedule for Bret's seven-part Saxophone Summit interview series on YouTube and ITunes:

May 22: Message to Mike—Michael Brecker
June 5: Cosmic Saxman—David Liebman
June 19: Our Daily Joe—Joe Lovano
July 3: Into the Light—Ravi Coltrane
July 17: That's Phil Markowitz—Phil Markowitz
July 31: All About Cecil—Cecil McBee
August 14: Jabali—Billy Hart

New CDs worth digging. Over the past week, I managed to get through a stack of new CDs that were piling up. Here are two worth checking out:

James Carter—Present Tense (EmArcy). Produced by Michael Cuscuna, this CD showcases James Carter on flute, bass clarinet, soprano sax, tenor sax and baritone sax. Carter is joined by Dwight Adams on trumpet and flugelhorn, D.D. Jackson on piano, Rodney Jones on guitar, James Genus on bass and Victor Lewis on drums. Four tunes that stand out are Dodo Marmarosa's plucky Dodo's Bounce (on which Carter plays a Frank Wess-inspired flute), Jimmy Jones' Shadowy Sands (featuring Carter on a stunning bass clarinet), Bossa J.C. (an original with Carter on tenor sax) and Tenderly (Carter smartly plays a Leo Parker-esque baritone sax up against Adams' muted trumpet). Carter is most impressive when he uses unexpected reeds and woodwinds on evenly paced tunes that show off his rich tone and technique. Go here or to iTunes.

Nicolas Bearde—Live at Yoshi's: A Salute to Lou (Right Groove). You don't hear albums like this anymore—live recordings by singers who can shrink a room with their personalities. The "Lou" in question here is Lou Rawls, who died in January 2006. Singer Nicolas Bearde doesn't mimic Rawls as much as he interprets the singer's creamy interpretations and seductive spirit. Rawls remains an underappreciated soul pioneer, successfully combining the crisp clarity of Nat King Cole and groovy gospel of Ray Charles. Rawls inspired a generation of soul seducers ranging from Barry White to Luther Vandross. Bearde here uses his baritone and charm to great effect, making you feel as if he's singing only to you. He's joined by Charles McNeal on tenor saxophone, Glenn Pearson on piano, Jason Lewis on drums and Nelson Braxton on bass. If you want a taste, sample The Girl From Ipanema or Lady Love. I'm not quite sure why You'll Never Know, Rawls biggest hit, wasn't broken out. But it's here—buried inside Lou's Medley. Bearde turns in a heart-felt tribute to a nearly forgotten godfather of soul. Go here or to iTunes.

An e-Chat With Roberto Magris

Few European musicians have as much adoration and reverence for the American jazz tradition as the Italian pianist Roberto Magris. Enormously curious about American culture and always eager to reinterpret neglected standards, Roberto loves performing with American jazz legends, and he brings a special sensitivity to every song he plays. Roberto's passion for jazz legends and jazz history continues to grow. His forthcoming album, Kansas City Outbound, features legendary bassist Art Davis, who died in July 2007 shortly after the album was recorded.

My favorite Roberto Magris album up to now has been Il Bello Del Jazz, which was recorded in 2003 but wasn't released until 2006. What makes this CD so special is the teaming of Roberto and the legendary alto saxophonist Herb Geller. Recorded in Roberto's home town of Trieste, Italy, everything about this album is fabulous and exciting. In addition to a handful of originals by Roberto and Geller, the album includes terrific standards including Benny Carter's Key Largo and Stephen Sondheim's Pretty Women. These two musicians together sound magical.

Roberto and I struck up a friendship several months ago via email after Roberto sent along his unreleased solo piano recording. Yesterday I e-interviewed Roberto, who's back in Trieste [pictured] after performing at a festival in Bucharest, Romania. He ruminated on why jazz is interpreted differently in various parts of Italy and reflected on one-time bandmates Herb Geller, Kai Winding, Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis, Sal Nistico and Art Davis. He also provided details about his soon-to-be released CD, an impressionistic tribute to Jay McShann and Kansas City jazz:

JazzWax: Is there a distinctly Italian approach to jazz?
Roberto Magris: Yes, I think so. But I am more of a Middle-European jazz musician than a purely Italian one. My musical experience took place not only in Italy but also in Austria, Hungary, Slovenia, Czechia and Germany. Before the Iron Curtain came down, there was a unique jazz stream from those countries that I experimented with, and I was one of the few Western musicians to play concerts there and collaborate with local jazz musicians on a regular basis. So I tend to identify with Central and Eastern European musicians, especially saxophonist Tony Lakatos, one of my favorites.

JW: What exactly sets you apart from mainstream Italian jazz musicians? 
RM: I think I have a special sense of dancing melodies, a more rhythmic approach and the tendency to be more of a risk-taker in solos within the harmonic frame. Actually, the jazz scene in much of Italy tends to be orientated toward experimental jazz, with some exceptions, of course, like trumpeter Enrico Rava and pianist Enrico Pierannunzi. So, I don't feel completely connected to the Italian jazz scene. I'm from Trieste, on the Adriatic Sea, and feel I have greater connection to traditional American jazz played in Central and Eastern Europe.

JW: Alto saxophonist Herb Geller played on your 2006 release, Il Bello Del Jazz. He rarely plays in the U.S. now. Why do you think that is?
RM: My impression is that Herb doesn't like to travel too far from Hamburg, Germany, where he lives. He has played in California from time to time over the last few years. But for the most part, he feels very comfortable in his new hometown, where he's highly respected, loved and appreciated. I think Herb would be open to returning to the U.S. to play if a good festival invited him. At this point, he's a grandmaster who simply likes to communicate with his sharp but sweet sound.

JW: Because Herb has been gone from the U.S. scene for some time, he's a bit of mystery to many fans here. What's he like?
RM: He is a gentleman, a very nice guy, full of anecdotes and stories. He still remembers all of his small group and big-band gigs. He remains saddened by the sudden death of his wife, Lorraine [pictured], in 1958, and the passing of close friends like Scott LaFaro and Clifford Jordan. I was especially surprised to see how proficient he was on the computer.

JW: How so?
RM: Herb collects standards and transcribes them into his computer. He has a huge, impressive collection. It's like a massive computerized fake book. He's particularly keen on compositions by Billy Strayhorn and Benny Carter. Herb is always open to new things, provided they are within the jazz tradition. He especially likes melody and rhythm, and doesn't care much for modal jazz. He's really a treasure, and I cannot understand how he can be so renowned yet underrated at the same time. [pictured: Roberto and Herb Geller]

JW: Are there other legends you'd like to play with?
RM: Oh sure. Yusef Lateef, James Moody, Lee Konitz, Charlie Mariano and Jimmy Heath, for starters.

JW: In the early 1980s, you played with Kai Winding, Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis and Sal Nistico—who were nearing the end of their careers. What were they like?
RM: Kai Winding was a real gentleman but he was already ill. Despite being sick, his playing was beautiful and his phrasing was elegant. I believe I played behind him during his last concert. He died just a short period after that in 1983. "Lockjaw" [pictured] was always dressed out of this world. I still remember his funny personal taste for elegant clothes. Nistico had very hard problems with drug addiction, even though his playing was very good. He was on a continuous trip. I remember he was interested only in getting drugs between the concert sets.

JW: When is your new CD coming out?
RM: Kansas City Outbound (Soul Note) will be released in a few months. I recorded the album in two sessions early last year in Kansas City with bassist Art Davis [pictured]. On drums is Jimmy "Junebug" Jackson, who for more than 20 years toured with organist Jimmy Smith. "Junebug" also has performed with McCoy Tyner, George Benson, Christian McBride and Carlos Santana. I also used local Kansas City drummer Zack Albetta for one of the sessions. My agent, Paul Collins, wanted to give him a chance to play and record with Art.

JW: How did the album's concept come about?
RM: In early 2007, we played a concert at the Blue Room near the American Jazz Museum in Kansas City. It was a special tribute to pianist Jay McShann, who had passed away in December 2006. My agent is a close friend of the McShanns. So we were able to meet Jay's family, and I got to play McShann's piano in his home, which was so exciting. I also received a few of his original scores as a gift from the McShann family. Art Davis was positive, happy and satisfied with our sound. Sadly, it turned out to be his final recording session.

JW: Why did you choose the Kansas City theme?
RM: I was so impressed with the American Jazz Museum in Kansas City and seeing the jazz district there [pictured] that I didn't want to miss an opportunity to pay tribute to the city and the music that was born there.

JW: What songs are on the CD?
RM: There are two totally improvised pieces, Kansas City Outbound, which has a Coltrane feel, and Kansas City Inbound, which I later found out has touches of pianist Denny Zeitlin. We also recorded I Fall in Love Too Easily; two originals of mine called Rainbow Eyes and Iraqi Blues; Monk's Bemsha Swing; Andrew Hill's Reverend Du Bop; and two more standards: Darn That Dream and Alone Together. I also recorded two solo piano interludes: €”Billy Strayhorn's A Flower Is a Lovesome Thing and Benny Carter's Lonely Woman.

JW: Speaking of solo piano, you recently recorded a solo album. It hasn't been released yet. How come?
RM: I just need to find a label that wants to release it. Solo piano albums are a harder sell. For me, the solo works are part of my personality and experience.

JW: Do you plan a tour of the U.S. soon?
RM: I plan to play in Los Angeles and San Francisco this year with saxophonists Paul Carr and Tony Lakatos [pictured, left, with Roberto], Marcus Shelby on bass and Idris Muhammad on drums. Then I hope to come to New York to play next year.

JazzWax tracks: Roberto Magris' Il Bello Del Jazz is available here on CD. For more information on the Soul Note label, go here. For more information about Roberto, go here. Il Bello Del Jazz is a very pretty album, with Magris displaying an enormous range as soloist and while accompanying Geller, who gives the date a smart, edgy West Coast feel.

Hidden Jazz Downloads (Vol. 1)

I want to share with you five terrific albums I discovered hidden away at iTunes. The fact that I have to root around for music in hit or miss fashion speaks volumes about how we shop for music these days. Back in the good old days (five years ago), you'd walk into a large record store and spend hours going through the CDs of different jazz artists. If you were lucky, the headphones at each listening station worked, and you could listen to unfamiliar releases.

Today, there is no atmosphere or structure associated with music shopping. While downloads are convenient and sound great when played through the right equipment, it's almost impossible to browse the way we used to. Someone out there should create a Second Life for jazz collectors. In my mind's eye, this virtual environment would feature a record store where you could browse the bins just as you did at Tower, HMV or Colony—except you'd do so on your computer. In the virtual space, you would be able to choose your own retail template and decade!

Now that I've gotten that silly fantasy off my chest, here are my five little-known, must-own download picks of the week:

1. Osie Johnson—Osie's Oasis (1955). This album originally was called The Happy Jazz of Osie Johnson and was released originally on Period Records. This download includes drummer Osie Johnson leading a quintet, sextet and octet. The quintet includes Benny Powell on trombone, Frank Wess on tenor sax and flute, Dick Katz on piano and Eddie Jones on bass. The sextet date features Thad Jones on trumpet, Bill Hughes on trombone, Frank Wess on tenor sax and flute, Dick Katz on piano and Milt Hinton on bass. The octet combines Abdul Salaam and Thad Jones on trumpets, Henry Coker on trombone, Ernie Wilkins on alto sax, Frank Wess on tenor sax and flute, Charlie Fowlkes on baritone sax and Wendell Marshall on bass.

2. Johnny Frigo—I Love John Frigo, He Swings (1957). Violinist Johnny Frigo is one of the only jazz fiddlers I can tolerate, probably because he comes to the instrument with a spirited bop feel rather than sticky sentimentalism. This album originally was released by Mercury and features Frigo, Dick Marx on piano, Ray Brown on bass and Norm Jeffries on drums. All of the tracks swing, and you never feel as if you're being serenaded in a restaurant.

3. Herb and Lorraine Geller—The Gellers (1955). Three years before Lorraine Geller died suddenly of a heart ailment just shy of her 30th birthday, she and her husband and alto saxophonist Herb Geller recorded this album for EmArcy. Half the album is made up of originals and half standards. Lorraine's playing was never better. The rest of the quartet featured Red Mitchell on bass and Mel Lewis on drums.

4. Harold Land—A Lazy Afternoon (1994). Charlie Parker, Clifford Brown and Billie Holiday all recorded albums with strings that went on to become classics. Add to the list tenor saxophonist Harold Land, backed here by a full orchestra lushly arranged and conducted by Ray Ellis of Lady in Satin fame. Many jazz fans are unaware of this hidden gem, recorded originally for the Postcards label. Ellis' warm charts give Land plenty of room to wander and develop pastoral lines. Many of the songs selected for the date were recorded back in 1958 by Billie Holiday for Lady in Satin and the contrasting treatments make for interesting listening.

5. Lionel Hampton—Crazy Rhythm (1955). The four lengthy tracks on this download originally were recorded in Paris for the French Barclay label and released here on EmArcy. While there's no such thing as a bad Lionel Hampton album, this one has a little extra kick and bite. The band includes Nat Adderley, Benny Bailey and Bernard Hulin on trumpets; Dave Amram on French horn; Maurice Meunier on clarinet and tenor sax; William Boucaya on baritone sax; Hamp on vibes; Rene Urtreger on piano; Sacha Distel on guitar; Guy Pedersen on bass; and Andre Baptiste Reilles on drums.

Back in November 2007, David Amram told me in an interview how this session came to be:

"I was playing jazz French horn at a club [in Paris] when vibraphonist Lionel Hampton came in to listen. He soon wound up on stage jamming with us. Afterward he asked me if I wanted to record with him, Nat Adderley, Benny Bailey and a bunch of terrific French musicians that included pianist Rene Urtreger. I said I’d be honored. The session was held on March 19 for the Barclay label, and it was thrilling. It was my first recording session, and all of the tunes that day were done in one or two takes. There was no music. We just went in and played."

The Crazy Rhythm download features only four of the eight songs recorded that day. You can pick up two more for 99 cents each on two other albums. You'll find Hampton's Voice of the North on Jazz in Paris No. 45: Lionel Hampton and His French New Sound, Vol. 1 and the band's recording of All the Things You Are on Volume 2. You'll only be missing I Cover the Waterfront and Zebu, which are available only if you download the albums. Unfortunately, Amazon has the same limitations on its mp3 download of the same songs. Let me know if you find a way online to download the remaining two.

Art Tatum: Piano Starts Here

I'm not sure where the line is when it comes to restoring legendary recordings by jazz giants. How far should a label go when cleaning up a recording made generations ago? Do you remove all the ambient noise? What about exposing notes that weren't heard on the original recording? And at what point does a recording become unrecognizable because all the sonic grime was removed?

In about two weeks, all of these questions will be dwarfed by a new, much larger one: Is a jazz album valid if the artist has been replaced by computer software?

Brace yourself, for that's surely the bone that will be chewed on furiously by jazz critics when Sony BMG Masterworks releases on June 3d the controversial Art Tatum: Piano Starts Here (Live at the Shrine). I'm just glad I had a chance to hear the recording before everyone else has a go.

What makes this new Sony Masterworks CD so contentious is how it was recorded. First, a little history: Back in April 1949, Tatum performed solo at Los Angeles' Shrine Auditorium [pictured], with nine tracks recorded, albeit poorly. The original recording sounds as if someone had poured sand onto the platter or tape heads revolving that day. Unable to do much with the masters, Sony decided to try something revolutionary (though some will say "heretical"). Let me quote from the Sony press release:

"Last year, Sony BMG and Zenph Studios re-recorded Tatum's 1949 concert at The Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles. They placed a state-of-the-art Yamaha Disklavier Pro concert grand piano on the same stage in the same spot that Tatum played and recorded a flawless re-performance on modern equipment before a live audience."

Who played the concert grand? Again, let me quote from the press release:

"Zenph's unique technique turns audio recordings into live performances that precisely replicate the original recording, but offer vastly improved sound quality. Listeners are transported back to the moment of creation and experience Tatum's playing as if they were in the room when the original recordings were made."

In other words, the piano keys moved by themselves, inspired by digital data. Zenph Studios is a company in North Carolina that builds software for recreating precisely how musicians perform. Zenph took the Tatum master, captured every note and nuance with its proprietary software program, and then ran the result through the Yamaha piano while Sony recorded the Tatum-less performance in front of a live audience.

Freaky, to say the least. Test-Tube Tatum.

But frankly, after listening to the CD 15 times, I honestly have mixed feelings about the album. On the one hand, it's a joy to hear Tatum's notes played with such clarity. On the other hand, I did have trouble shaking the image that I'm listening to Bizarro Tatum, the piano genius who wasn't there.

Which begs the philosophical question: Am I listening to an Art Tatum recording if Tatum's fingers aren't producing the notes? And is this project an insult to jazz or is it simply a high-tech tribute? I'm not sure. In some ways, I feel like the diner at a chop house who's just been told halfway through the meal that the lamb I'm eating was cloned. The mutton may taste great but you can't stop thinking about scientists in lab coats and the fate of your genes if you finish your meal.

Tatum certainly was superhuman. We know this from his clean recordings and film footage. You listen to his interpretations and you can't even imagine what it must have been like to hear him play live, let alone watch those fingers miraculously fly up and down the keyboard. Tatum was and remains jazz's most remarkable pianist. There really isn't a pianist alive (nor will there ever be) who is superb enough to sit down and sound precisely like Tatum. So it only figures that software would be needed to re-capture such a spectacular artist.

There's no denying that Piano Starts Here's fidelity is exceptional. And I did find myself forgetting that the piano was playing by itself. Each track, from How High the Moon and Tea for Two to Someone to Watch Over Me, bristles with Tatum's fleshy energy and stormy touch. The CD even has warmth, humor and dynamics—notes and chords are depressed with different, accurate strengths.

So what are we to make of Piano Starts Here? Is it a gimmick, a gross violation of nature? Or is this recording simply an opportunity to hear what Tatum must have sounded like if you were sitting on the piano bench with him back in 1949?

It would be so easy to dump on Piano Starts Here for being a wax museum piece or the start of some horrible trend toward musician-less jazz albums. But that reaction would be unfair given how good the CD sounds. Besides, Zenph used the same technology in 2006 to reperform Glenn Gould's 1955 recording of the Bach Goldberg Variations, which long suffered in mono.

Clearly, this isn't an Art Tatum album. For it to be such a disc, Tatum obviously would have to be sitting at the keyboard. But is it a jazz mockery, the musical equivalent of a Monet forgery? I don't think I'd go that far. Technology allows for many things these days, and this just happens to be one of them. Fortunately, the result is both entertaining and illuminating. You finally get to hear what Tatum must have sounded like if you were in the front row that day. It's eerily intimate.

So, all things considered, Piano Starts Here is fun to hear and addictive. If Supersax could pose as five Charlie Parkers and Dave Pell could recreate Lester Young's solos with his Prez Conference, a Yamaha grand running down Art Tatum solos isn't the worst thing in the world, especially given how much love, care and respect went into the recreation.

Piano Starts Here just has to be considered for what it is: A clear, enjoyable and virtually perfect recreation of Tatum's perfect live performance. This CD doesn't erase or replace the importance and significance of the original recording. It merely provides us with an audio document detailing Tatum's sound and technique if today's digital wizards could go back in time and do that 1949 concert some audio justice.

JazzWax tracks: The original Art Tatum Shrine Auditorium concert can be found on Art Tatum: 1949 on the French Classics label. The CD is available here used for about  $16. The sound is, however, coarse and a bit distant.

Piano Starts Here from Sony will be released on June 3d and will be available here and likely at iTunes. In addition to the nine tracks that Tatum recorded at the Shrine, the CD includes his first four commercial recordings issued on 78-rpm in 1933 by Brunswick. When listened to with headphones, the recording replicates what Tatum would have heard from the piano bench at the Shrine, with the music seeming to come from directly in front of you.

Jazzing Up Your Jazz CDs

Yesterday I told you how I significantly improved the fidelity of my iTunes library with the addition of a digital-to-analog converter. Today, I'm going to fill you in on how I enhanced the sound of my extensive CD collection.

First a word about digital-to-analog converters. This is a device that turns the data compressed in CDs and computer files into music. All CD players have such a converter built in. But because there’s only so much room in a player, a built-in converter tends to be tiny and not very good.

An external converter, by contrast, is much larger and sophisticated, thereby able to convert more of the information embedded in a CD or digital file. That's why the music sounds so much richer when you hook up an external converter to your stereo system. Many people believe that their system's speakers and CD player are essential to their stereo's fidelity. And they are. But without an external converter, much of your digital music, especially in the midrange, will remain unheard. [pictured: CD data enlarged 5,000 times]

For an analogy, relying solely on your speakers for great sound is like having a fabulous camera and photo paper but a printer with only two color cartridges. No matter how colorful the images you photograph, your prints will always be severely handicapped by the printer's limited color palette. By contrast, an external digital-to-analog converter is like having a printer with 50 different color cartridges.

While the addition of an external converter boosted the fidelity of my iTunes library, I faced a unique problem with my CDs. To operate, a converter must be hooked up between your music source (a laptop computer or CD player) and your power source (a receiver or amp). The power source I chose for my office system was an Arcam Solo Mini, which beautifully combines a receiver and CD player in one compact unit. I saved space and money with the Solo Mini compared to buying a separate receiver and CD player of equal quality. But because everything is shmushed together in this unit, I can't place my external converter between the music source and power source. (If you have a separate CD player and power source, you'll be fine.)

Convinced I’d have to sell my new Arcam and buy separate units in order to get the DAC1 USB converter into my system, I called back Rory Rall at Benchmark Media Systems.

“I love how the DAC1 USB sounds with my iTunes—but now I’m going to have to replace my Arcam with separate components so the converter can handle my CDs," I said. "Any suggestions on new equipment?"

“You don’t have to replace a thing,” Rory said. “Do you have $40?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said bracing for ruinous instructions on how to take apart my Arcam and switch wires.

“Are you in front of a computer?” Rory asked.

“Yes,” I said, thinking to myself, "Here we go..."

Rory simply sent me a URL at Walmart.com. Here, for $29, was a compact silver Magnavox DVD player with dimensions that were nearly identical to the DAC1 USB. He also gave me the URL for a composite video cable with RCA jacks on each end sold by Circuit City for $4.

“Just hook the Magnavox DVD player to the DAC1 with the video cable and play your CDs on it," he said. "The music will come through your speakers and should sound as good as your iTunes does now." So I ordered the gear. A few days later, the Magnavox DVD player and cable arrived. I’m happy to report that my CDs now sound just as fantastic as my iTunes.

But there's one more issue to deal with: An external digital-to-analog converter can only play the hand it's dealt. Meaning, the sound you hear is only going to be as good as the quality of the recording you ripped or downloaded. So when it comes to your iTunes library, how you burn and what you download is important.

To improve the quality of the music you rip from CDs to your computer, there are a series of steps you can take, depending on the type of computer you own. Go here to learn what to do.

In addition, a growing number of sites offer high resolution downloads, which is a fancy way of saying that they pack more information into the files shot into your computer. But at this time, not many of these sites offer jazz:

• CheskyRecords.com
• Itrax.com
• LinnRecords.com
• MusicGiants.com

To recap, instead of paying a fortune for a fancy amp and high-end CD player, you could buy an inexpensive receiver and compact DVD player and devote the bulk of your budget to an external digital-to-analog converter and wind up with detailed, high-fidelity sound.

Yesterday I heard from a music industry friend who just bought an Oppo DV-980H DVD player [pictured] to listen to CDs in his office. He says he is highly impressed with the $169 player here. "A lot of audiophiles I know are using DVD players as transports to feed better digital-to-analog converters like Benchmark's DAC1 and the Bel Canto DAC," he says. My friend adds that the Oppo also plays SACD and DVD-A formats plus has an "audio-only" mode that bypasses its video processing altogether for better sound. What's more, he says, the Oppo has a USB input on front of the player.

Another tip: To free up my computer’s USB port, I decided to connect my DAC1 USB with a Vortex Toslink to Mini Toslink Cable that I ran from the DAC to my computer’s headphone port. This optical cable is available here for about $5.

Benchmark's DAC1 USB is meant to plug and play, meaning you just take it out of the box, hook it up and you’re good to go. But depending on your computer, you may need to make some setting changes. On a Mac, for example, you may need to open your Audio MIDI Setup [pictured: the icon]. You will find this in your Applications folder, in the Utilities folder. Different settings are needed if you use a USB cable to connect the DAC1 to your computer v. digital optical cable.

Now if only someone would just invent software that simulates the "hunt" and "hold" sensations long associated with music shopping and appreciation, I'd be all set.