Baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan was exceptional. He was an arranger, composer, lyricist, singer, conductor, pianist, jazz-movement transformer, educator, a bandleader and an actor. Shortly after Mulligan's death in 1996, director Thor Raxlen released Listen: Gerry Mulligan, a documentary sponsored by the Library of Congress and produced by Mulligan's wife, Franca Rota Mulligan. It runs about an hour and a half and looks at Mulligan's contribution to jazz and his love for life and music. It will move you to tears in some places. A good way to end the week.
How lyrical are Hank Mobley's tenor saxophone solos? Lyrical enough that singers seem to like putting words to them or just scatting along. Yesterday, I was on YouTube and found a bunch of Mobley warblers, many of whom chose songs from his 1960 album, Soul Station [photo of Hank Mobley above by Francis Wolff (c) Mosaic Images]:
Here's Alexandra Baird, who set words to Mobley's This I Dig of You...
Here's Emanuele Maia, scatting along to Remember...
Here's Camille Bertault adding French lyrics to If I Should Lose You...
Pianist Sonny Clark recorded five albums with tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley. Three were Mobley leadership sessions and two were led by Clark. They were together on Hank Mobley (recorded in June 1957), Dial S for Sonny (in July 1957), Mobley's Curtain Call (in August 1957), Mobley's Poppin' (in October 1957) and Clark's My Conception (in March 1959).
It's hard to pick a favorite among these albums, just as it's hard to isolate a Clark recording as superior to all of his other collaborations and leadership sessions. Clark was soulful and elegant on everything he recorded. But there's something special about the Clark-Mobley collaborations, especially on My Conception. Strangely, the album was shelved by Blue Note in 1959 and wasn't released until 1979, when the material first appeared on vinyl in Japan. The perfectly paired quintet included Donald Byrd (tp) Hank Mobley (ts) Sonny Clark (p) Paul Chambers (b) and Art Blakey (d).
Mobley's sound was assertive and elastic, like stretched taffy, while Clark plays with pinpoint tenacity and grace. In addition to the lyrical Mobley-Clark conversation, Byrd's trumpet sizzles like frying eggs, Chambers's bass is thick and rubbery, and Blakey's drums are taut and splashy. Taken together, the quintet is completely in sync, working as one with a purposeful feel. But what's special is they leave each other space so that each playing artist is distinct during ensemble passages and during solos. Also remarkable is that all of the album's songs are Clark originals, a reminder of how gifted the pianist was as a hard-bop composer and arranger. [Photo above of Hank Mobley by Francis Wolff]
As Clark says in Michael Cuscuna's liner notes from 1980, "I never heard Hank Mobley in person until I came to New York, but I listened to his records with the Jazz Messengers and dug him very much. [He] plays in my style and I was very happy working with [him] and very satisfied with the results." [Photo above of Sonny Clark by Francis Wolff]
Sonny Clark died in 1963, at age 31, of a heroin overdose; Hank Mobley died in 1986.
I came upon vocalist Stephanie Nakasian in 2009, shortly after the release of Stephanie Nakasian: Lullaby in Rhythm, A Tribute to June Christy (V.S.O.P.). Few singers were paying much attention to Christy then, and Stephanie did a wonderful job. While she didn't try to mimic Christy, she did have a fine sense of Christy's dry exuberance and hip phrasing. Stephanie's renditions of Interlude and Something Cool still knock me out.
If you're in New York on June 5, Stephanie will be appearing at Birdland with Matt Baker (p), Ari Roland (b) and Fuku (d). For more information, go here. In advance of Stephanie's gig, I thought it was high time to interview her:
JazzWax: You grew up in Bronxville, N.Y. What shaped you musically as a child? Stephanie Nakasian: Music was important in our home. My father, Samuel, was Armenian and had fled the Turkish genocide at age 4 with his mother and sisters. His father had been murdered. In the U.S., he became a lawyer and a famous economist and Marshall Plan architect with an expertise in oil and gas. My mother’s father was the Austrian ambassador to the U.S. and became head of the diplomatic corps in Washington, D.C., where my parents met.
JW: What did your mother do? SN: My mother, Patricia Prochnik, was in the Red Cross during World War II. She was supersmart and self-taught but never got to finish college. She became a mom. I have three younger siblings—my brother, Stirling, and my two sisters, Suzanne and Stacey.
JW: When did you start singing? SN: In Bronxville. My parents belonged to a local Dutch Reformed/Presbyterian church. I sang in the choir and in the school choir.
JW: Did you study an instrument? SN: Between ages 4 and 8, I studied piano locally until my teacher said she couldn’t take me much further. She recommended Edgar Roberts, a teacher in New York. So at age 8, I started traveling into the city with my mother for piano lessons. Edgar was a professor at the Juilliard School of Music.
JW: You also studied the violin? SN: Yes, with a teacher who played with the New York Philharmonic. Each summer, I went to a music sleep-away camp in New England. We went to Europe on tour with the band, orchestra and chorus. From the start, music was more than just lessons. It was a language, something you shared with a community of family and friends.
JW: Did you listen to jazz growing up in the 1960s? SN: Not much. I listened mostly to rock, pop, Broadway musicals, classical albums and my mother’s big band records. The ‘60s and early ‘70s were good years for songs on the radio—the Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Carole King and even Barbra Streisand. I loved singing along with Barbra on her albums.
JW: Were you parents musical? SN: My mother sang American songbook standards around the house all the time. She had a beautiful singing voice. In the 1940s, she had a short career as nightclub singer and appeared with Bob Crosby’s band and at U.S.O. events.
JW: At Northwestern University, you majored in economics and completed an MBA. How did you wind up a singer? SN: In high school, I was a good math and economics student. My dad wanted me to go into banking. I had worked at Citibank during the summers in high school. When I applied to Northwestern, the university offered me a free year if I committed to their MBA program from the start. It was a three-year bachelor program followed by a two-year MBA program. I majored in economics.
JW: Were you pushed to follow in your father’s footsteps or did you truly like business? SN: I was naturally business minded. I was smart, I worked hard and was a good student. But I missed the intimacy of people, and I had a bigger vision for what I could contribute to the world besides getting rich and making others rich.
JW: What was the turning point? SN: After I graduated from business school, I worked at the First Chicago Bank in Chicago. Then I was transferred to New York, where I worked in their currency trading and lending division. The move was a big deal.
JW: Where did you live? SN: On 54th Street and Second Avenue. In the city, I began taking meditation and Sufi classes. They opened my mind and made me think twice about a business career. I decided to take a year off and traveled to Morocco and Europe. When I returned to New York, I quit my job.
JW: How did you wind up listening to jazz? SN: Around this time, my family moved to Charlottesville, Va, from Bronxville. On one of my visits, my sister, Stacey, introduced me to her friend, Tucker. He said his uncle was a jazz pianist who played at Gregory’s, a club on 63rd Street and First Avenue near my apartment. He said I should go.
JW: What did you do? SN: Back in New York in July 1980, I went to Gregory’s. That’s where I first heard Hod O’Brien. He was the house pianist and played there five nights a week with Joe Puma on guitar and different bass players. Tucker was the son of Hod's sister, Debbie. [Photo above of Stephanie Nakasian and Hod O'Brien]
JW: What did you think? SN: I loved Hod’s playing. I loved everything about him. He was handsome, cool and swinging. His music was alive. He looked young and vibrant.
JW: At the time, where were you working? SN: After I returned from Morocco and Europe, I had taken a currency consulting job with the New York Stock Exchange to pay my debts. I also wanted to see if business was still a good career move. I soon began to notice that all of my Wall Street friends were burning out in their 20s. Meeting Hod convinced me that business wasn’t a life for me.
JW: How long before you got up the courage to introduce yourself to Hod? SN: One set. It didn’t take courage on my part. I knew his nephew, and Hod was sweet when I introduced myself. I asked if I could sing for him. I had a piano in my apartment. He came over and we played and sang. Music and love. I was in heaven. He said he was amazed how well I sang and that I sounded like Ella Fitzgerald.
JW: How long before your relationship with Hod turned romantic? SN: Immediately.
JW: You also began performing together. SN: Yes. I sat in with him at Defemio’s in Yonkers. He already had a singer at Gregory’s. Defemio’s was a great hang. I sat in with him and his trio at other area clubs, too. Then we got gigs together.
JW: That’s a big decision, to abandon a career in business for a life in jazz. Were you apprehensive? SN: I was scared to death. After seven months of Wall Street by day and jazz singing by night, I realized I had to give a singing career a full-time shot. So I threw a “coming out” party and told everyone at the party that I was going to try singing for five years. If that didn’t work out, I’d go back to Wall Street. I was 26 and in love. Everyone thought I was crazy. I just followed my heart and hoped things would work out. And they did.
JW: Did you take voice lessons? SN: Once I started singing with Hod and committed to becoming a professional singer, I knew I needed to study voice. Otherwise, there’s was a big risk of hurting my voice and damaging it permanently. Alicia Sherman, a singer at Gregory’s, told me about a terrific teacher, Joseph Scott. He taught everyone from rockers to opera stars. He taught me how to use my voice safely without too much heady formal training.
JW: What was the big turning point for you professionally? SN: When I sang with Jon Hendricks & Co., from 1982 to 1983. He started Jon Hendricks & Co. in 1981 to carry on the vocalese singing tradition of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross. I was so new to jazz, I knew nothing about Jon. I just went to the audition and sang. Every singer in New York had tried to get that job. They knew all the history and all the solos. I just sang, and they heard what I had. I replaced Michele Hendricks, Jon’s daughter, who was leaving.
JW: How did singing with Jon Hendricks & Co. change you? SN: It was an apprenticeship for me. I learned to phrase well and I learned to scat. I also learned the repertoire of classic jazz and how to sing like a horn. It was graduate-level vocal jazz training.
JW: Your tribute album to June Christy recorded in 2002 and released in 2008—Lullaby in Rhythm—is terrific. Why Christy? SN: People kept telling me my voice reminded them of June’s, but I had never heard her. So I bought a couple of her albums. I could hear the similarities. I started singing songs she made famous, and the next thing I knew I was performing tributes to her with arranger and conductor Pete Rugolo and Stan Kenton tribute bands. We toured all over the country.
JW: From your perspective, what was special about Christy's sound? SN: June is swinging, very cool, expressive and harmonically advanced. The songs she sang and Pete’s arrangements for her were fabulous. June, Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan remain my biggest jazz influences
JW: How did Hod propose? SN: We were together for 14 years. When we decided to have children, we discussed marriage and took the plunge. We married in November 1993.
JW: What did Hod teach you about singing? SN: He taught me to sing cool and relaxed, and to swing. I’m sure my scat singing and rhythm come right out of his improv concept rooted in classic bop and swing. Working with Hod was a mentorship with a bebop genius.
JW: Do you miss Hod? SN: Wow. Every day. He passed in 2016. I guess it gets a little easier over time but there are moments when I fall apart. I push on and sing and live and love. I’m thrilled about the success and prowess of our daughter, singer Veronica Swift. But missing Hod is always there. It’s still hard to listen to his records or our records. I hope this will change. I loved his touch and his music so much. Singing helps. [Photo above of Hod O'Brien and Stephanie Nakasian flanking daughter and singer Veronica Swift]
JW: What will you be singing at Birdland on June 5? SN: I don’t know yet. I like to be spontaneous. I’ll sing standards, bop tunes, Latin songs, some bluesy things and even some seldom-heard songs by Billy Strayhorn and Tadd Dameron. I’ll also probably sing songs from my 13 CDs. I love singing obscure songs, but it’s hard to stump a New York audience. They know so much. As always, it will be personal and deep.
JW: And Hod? SN: I’ll be channeling Hod while I sing. I always do.
JazzWax clips:Here's Stephanie singing East of the Sun, with Hod O'Brien on piano in 2011...
Here's Stephanie singing The Days of Wine and Roses with O'Brien on piano and Harry Allen on saxophone...
Today is Memorial Day in the U.S., a day when Americans celebrate the start of summer and honor the soldiers who died while in the service of the U.S. Armed Forces. The holiday's origins can be tracked to 1861, when the graves of fallen soldiers began to be decorated in the U.S. The holiday also extends spiritually to our country's many allies.
The music of wars has an interesting history. Over the past 244 years, songs have captured the spirit of courage, the frustration over bad decisions and the mood of mourning. [Painting above, The Spirit of '76, by A.M. Willard, 1876]
On Memorial Day, here are nine songs that serve as emotional reminders of those who sacrificed their lives in bygone wars—some noble and some a terrible mistake:
Here's composer William Billings' Chester from the American Revolution being performed by the U.S. Air Force Heritage of America Band...
Here's Mary Fahl singing the Civil War song Going Home...
Here's Nora Bayes singing Irving Berlin's Goodbye France after World War I in 1919...
Here's Glenn MIller and his Army Air Force Band with Johnny Desmond singing Long Ago and Far Away in German. The 1944 broadcast was meant to soften up German listeners as Allied troops took control of a country in ruins...
Here's Jimmie Osborne's God Please Protect America (1950) on the eve of the Korean War...
Here's Edwin Star performing War on Soul Train in 1970 during the Vietnam War...
Here's Neil Young's Let's Roll released in the aftermath of 9/11 and the passengers on United Airlines Flight 93 who died trying to regain control of the plane from four hijackers as it neared Washington, D.C....
Here's Nathan Fair's Fallen Soldier on the Iraq War...
And here's Seether's Fine Again from Fragile (2000), demonstrating that war songs are now in the hands of those who match existing recordings to footage of battle on YouTube...
In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed Mark Knopfler, former guitarist and lead singer of Dire Straits, on the red guitar of his youth that launched his love of rock (go here). Mark was born in Glasgow, Scotland, and grew up in Newcastle upon Tyne in England. His early heroes were Chuck Berry and Hank Marvin, both of whom wielded a red guitar.
Here's Marvin, seated, playing his best-known hit, Apache in 1960...
Here's Mark Knopfler in 1978 with Dire Straits singing their big hit, Sultans of Swing...
SiriusXM. For those who missed my appearance on SiriusXM's Feedback (channel 106) last week to discuss the history of Heart and my WSJ column on the band's hit, Barracuda, here's the entire hour-long show...
Rare album? If you can't find a copy of a rare album, chances are you'll find it at Discogs.com. Last week I mentioned that Manny Albam's album, The Soul of the City, was impossible to find. There are copies at Discogs.com. So next time you're stuck, have a look there. And thanks to all the readers who emailed to alert.
Royal Albert Hall. Last week, Tom Shaker in London sent along the following email:
Hi Marc. I went to the Mark Knopfler concert at Royal Albert Hall Wednesday night. Lo and behold, there was your wonderful book, Anatomy of a Song, in the gift shop! With only a handful of titles to choose from, you were in good company. I recommended it to a few browsers. Thought you might like to see it (above).
George Russell. Last week, Milan Simich sent along a link to a killer YouTube audio upload of George Russell at the 1964 Newport Jazz Festival. Russell's group featured Russell (p), Don Ellis (tp), David Baker (tb), John Gilmore (ts), Steve Swallow (b), Pete LaRoca (d) and Sheila Jordan (voc). They performed The Outer View, Stratosphunk, Volupte and You Are My Sunshine. Go here...
Louis Stewart. After my post last week of two Wes Montgomery video clips, I received the following email from Oliver Dowling in Dublin, Ireland:
Hi Marc. Fantastic videos of Wes Montgomery. They reminded me of the late guitar legend Louis Stewart. Louis did not use a mobile phone and laptop nor did he drive a car. It was my job to put a lot of your video recommendations on DVD for him so he could watch them on a recently purchased player. I also printed out your posts so he could read them. I miss our talks an hour or two before his gigs, with him sipping a pint of Guinness with a Paddy whiskey chaser. He had some great stories to tell and was a big fan of Montgomery.
My introduction to GUAI came through Facebook when she sent me a message. After downloading her album, I was swept away. As readers know, I love Brazilian music. GUAI is a contemporary singer who migrated from Brazil to Lisbon, Portugal, in 2017 in search of greater artistic freedom and more receptive and loving audiences. Brazil is going through tough times.
GUAI styles her stage name in all caps. Her debut album, Dama de Paus (Lady of Clubs) was recorded in Brazil and released in 2015. It's extraordinary (go here and here). Her optimism, free-flowing sound, Brazilian rhythms and warm tone are the stuff of bossa and samba legends. There's a coy exuberance and vocal happiness that is enchanting and invigorating. Once you hear this album, you'll find yourself under her spell. She's like Carnival, club music and the best dinner party of your life all wrapped up in one recording.
I reached out to GUAI to learn more:
JazzWax: Where were you born? GUAI: I’m from Salvador da Bahia, a coastal town in Brazil. The Bahia state is the birthplace of samba and a magical and extremely musical region. It also was the first place that Portuguese conquerors landed in 1500.
JW: What is your full name? G: My birth name is Karol Guaitolini. I used it as my professional name until I noticed that people had difficulty pronouncing it. I wanted to be on more intimate terms with my audience, since they follow me and listen to my work. My birth name was too formal. So I began using just GUAI—yes, in all caps. It’s short for my last name. A close friend always called me Guai and still does. I thought, why not? I decided to capitalize it so the name stands out. The word in Spanish means joy. In Italian, it means trouble. I think I'm a little bit of both.
JW: How is your name pronounced? G: Think of Uruguay— without the “Uru.”
JW: Did you study music and singing as a child? G: I loved music from the time I was in my crib. My father is a pianist and my mother is a vocalist. They used to tour a great deal performing all kinds of music in clubs. When I was 4, I joined them, performing at dances and doing matinees for children in several different cities. So growing up, I was surrounded by music. I listened to my parents’ records of Elis Regina, Elza Soares, Sarah Vaughan, Ella Fitzgerald, Gal Costa, Edith Piaf, Frank Sinatra, Cesar Camargo Mariano, Wagner Tiso and Djavan. I didn’t take singing lessons. I’m an autodidact—I taught myself. I did some singing workshops and worked with a speech therapist, but everything I know about music is intuitive and organic.
JW: Did your parents encourage you? G: Oh yes. They remain my biggest fans and supporters. Even though they worry about the difficulties and hardship that accompanies a singing career, they knew I was born to be an artist. The same was true for them. It’s not something we choose to do. It chooses us. We are driven to be creative and express ourselves.
JW: What year did you move to Lisbon? G: At the time of my move in 2017, I was searching for a more receptive environment for my music, which is a bit more sophisticated than standard Brazilian music. Moving there was great because I was involved with a greater variety of media, including TV and radio.
JW: What motivated the move? G: The political crisis that plagued Brazil since 2016 has affected the mood and behavior of the Brazilian people in terms of how they consume art and what they think of artists. I must say, the situation in Brazil in this respect has only worsened. This year, there have been terrible cuts in funding for culture and a wave of hatred toward art and artists in all spheres. I left to take refuge in Lisbon. It's very hard to create in an atmosphere like that. But in my soul, I'm Brazilian.
JW: Does your singing style reflect your relief and happiness about being in a receptive environment? G: Oh yes. In Lisbon, I've found a more receptive and loving following. My debut album has been well received here. The album is my pride and joy. It’s an independent production. It was the first time I’ve executive-produced an album. It was recorded in Brazil and released digitally in 2015 and on CD in 2016.
JW: You’ve been nominated for some special awards, yes? G: Before I recorded my album, I released some singles. These were nominated for the Brazilian Music Awards in 2011 and 2012. In 2017, with my debut album released, I was nominated in the "best female vocalist" and "best song" categories. In 2018, I entered Portugal’s EDP Live Bands competition. I was the most voted artist in the whole country.
JW: What was the inspiration for your singing now? G: That's a great question. My inspiration is my love for Portugal, its historical connection to Brazil and all that being an immigrant suggests: The longing, the distance, the hope for better days and the uncertainties.
JW: You had terrific assistance on the album, yes? G: Yes. Nema Antunes, who produced Dama de Paus, won a Latin Grammy for producing Ivan Lins. I also had a super collaborator on the album, Ian Ritchie, a friend who I met in Portugal. I’m very excited about the album because it’s more world music, you know?
JW: How would you describe your singing style? G: I am 100% made in Brazil for export. My music brings the rich melodic and harmonic Brazilian structure mixed with percussive Afro-Brazilian and polyrhythmic strings. My arrangements are based on chorinho, an instrumental Brazilian pop music genre. And, of course, American big bands. The music was recorded live in the studio, with the full band playing together. This brought an aesthetic of jazz improvisation and collaboration. The result is my greatest pride and it defines me as a Brazilian artist and Brazilian singer. I just happen to live in Lisbon.
Yesterday, I found two fantastic videos of guitarist Wes Montgomery on YouTube, one in Hamburg, Germany, in 1964 and the other in Belgium in 1965 (from the Jazz Icons DVD). In both cases, dig Montgomery's right thumb. Long and bent at the joint, it operated like a piece of sturdy machinery, picking away at the strings and swinging as his sensitive left hand chose the most beautiful chord voicings.
Here's an exciting five-song rehearsal captured on tape featuring Montgomery with a powerhouse reed-driven section and rhythm section: Hans Koller (as), Johnny Griffin and Ronnie Scott (ts), Ronnie Ross (bs), Martial Solal (p), Michel Gaudry (b) and Ronnie Stephenson (d)...
And here's Montgomery in Belgium in 1965 playing John Coltrane's Impressions...
I love gorgeous jazz flute albums, and there are so many of them. Off the top of my head, there's Ernie Wilkins's Flutes & Reeds, Harold McNair's Flute & Nut, Buddy Collette's Swinging Shepherds and Swinging Shepherds at the Cinema, Billy Taylor's With Four Flutes, A.K. Salim's Flute Suite, Yusef Lateef's The Golden Flute, The Herbie Mann–Sam Most Quintet, Art Van Damme's Squeezing Art & Tender Flutes and many more. Here's one more for you. [Photo above of Johnnie Pate]
In 1957 and 1958, bassist and arranger Johnnie Pate recorded Swingin' Flute for the Federal label in Chicago. On the November 1957 session, Swinging Shepherd Blues, The Elder, Easy Does It and Five O'clock Whistle were recorded by Lenny Druss (fl), Floyd Morris (p), Wilbur Wynne and Johnnie Wynne (g), Pate (b) and Vernell Fournier (d). Pate had a national hit with Moe Koffman's Swinging Shepherd Blues, which reached No. 17 on Billboard's R&B chart in the spring of 1958.
In March and April 1958, Pretty One, Muskeeta,Satin Doll, Double Promotion Blues, Whistle Blues, Deeno Dantay, Little Pixie and I Can't Go Through Life were recorded by Ronald Wilson (fl,ts) Billy Wallace (p), Wilbur Wynne (g), Johnnie Pate (b) and Donald Clark (d).
Both Lenny Druss and Ronald Wilson were multi-instrumentalists. They played saxophones, oboe, clarinet and flute on recording sessions. Despite playing all of these instruments beautifully, both musicians were fairly obscure and remain so today. Neither Druss nor Wilson have a Wiki page, for example. As for Johnnie Pate, he led trios in Chicago in the early and mid-1950s and eventually crossed over to arranging later in the decade. One of his last albums on bass was James Moody's Last Train From Overbrook in 1958.
Throughout the 1960s, Johnnie arranged for Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions and he arranged pop albums for artists such as Nancy Wilson. In the '70s, he composed and arranged for black action films such as Shaft in Africa (1973), Bucktown (1975), Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde (1976) and Sudden Death (1977).
Having interviewed Johnnie for my WSJ essay on Mayfield's People Get Ready (go here), I can tell you he's a wonderful, elegant guy.
In 1966, producer Sonny Lester, engineer Phil Ramone and arranger-composer Manny Albam launched Solid State Records as the jazz division of United Artists. The label specialized in sophisticated fidelity to maximize an emerging generation of component stereo systems. The days of bulky console phonographs were ending and a new era of speakers, integrated receivers and turntables purchased individually had begun. [Photo above of Manny Albam]
Solid State's albums were recorded using transistorized gear. The label's albums were positioned specifically for solid state stereo equipment, which processed music with semiconductors rather than vacuum tubes. The result was more musical information projected through the speakers. [Photo above of a Sony ad from 1966]
To put Solid State's wide-sound promise to the sonic test, Albam recorded The Soul of the City. He composed, arranged and conducted the songs, Lester produced and Ramone engineered. The New York band was staggeringly first rate: Ernie Royal, Joe Newman, Burt Collins, Snooky Young, John Frosk and Freddie Hubbard (tp); J.J. Johnson, Eddie Bert, Wayne Andre and Tony Studd (tb); Jimmy Buffington, Earl Chapin, Howard Howard and Al Richman (fhr); Jerome Richardson, Phil Woods, Don Ashworth, Chuck Russo, Frank Wess and Seldon Powell (reeds); Mike Mainieri (vib); Hank Jones (p); unknown (g) Richard Davis (b) or Ron Carter (b); Mel Lewis (d); Phil Kraus (perc) and strings.
The Soul of the City was a concept album featuring Albam's musical impressions of different New York scenes. To enhance the concept, sound effects such as babies crying, a police siren, a sports crowd cheering, a city river's lapping against its banks and a jet flying overhead were overdubbed briefly in places. Each of the songs offers a different impression but resists becoming an orchestral View-Master of New York. Instead of celebrating tourist destinations, Manny limited his impressions to obscure places he found audibly interesting: Born on Arrival; Children's Corner; Museum Pieces; Game of the Year; View From the Outside; Tired Faces Going Places; View From the Inside; Ground Floor Rear (Next to the Synagogue); Riverview and El Barrio Latino. [Photo above of Manny Albam]
The soloists are superb:
Born on Arrival — J.J. Johnson (tb), Phil Woods (as) and Hank Jones (p)
The Children's Corner — Jerome Richardson (fl), Mike Mainieri (vib) and Woods
Museum Pieces — Woods and Mainieri
The Game of the Year — Frank Wess (ts), Woods and Johnson
A View From the Outside — Woods, Burt Collins (flhn) and Johnson
Tired Faces Going Places — Collins (tp)
A View From the Inside — Joe Newman (tp), Johnson
Ground Floor Rear (Next to the Synagogue) — Richard Davis (b), Freddie Hubbard (tp)
Riverview — Mainieri, Woods, Jones
El Barrio Latino — Ernie Royal (tp)
The Soul of the City lived up to expectations. As the label boasted, "[The line] deftly blends superb artists and magnificent performances with dynamic range and absolute cleanliness of recording." As for Manny Albam, the album remains an unheralded and virtually unknown masterpiece. Every inch of the recording is bold, elegant, fresh and cool. Why this recording hasn't been reissued is a travesty. [Photo above of Sonny Lester]
Manny Albam died in 2001; Phil Ramone (above) died in 2013. Solid State Records ceased production in late 1969.
JazzWax tracks: Manny Albam's The Soul of the City can be found on vinyl here or the tracks can be found hidden on an Albam CD and download compilation here.
JazzWax clips: Here's Museum Pieces with solos by Phil Woods and Mike Mainiari...
Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Anatomy of 55 More Songs," "Anatomy of a Song," "Rock Concert: An Oral History" and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax has won three Jazz Journalists Association awards.