JazzWax

Clint, Al and John

In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed country star Clint Black for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). Clint talked about growing up in Houston and how high school was a wipe out for him. Fortunately, his parents knew he had enormous talent, and his Sicilian mother nudged him along. Clint has always had one of the finest voices in Nashville. [Photo above of Clint Black courtesy of Clint Black]

Here's Clint's second No. 1 hit, Killin' Time (1989)...

And here's Desperado...

Merle Haggard. While we're in a country place, here's an hour of Merle Haggard. Such a great singer and songwriter. I'm so glad I had an opportunity to interview him about Big City for my "Anatomy of a Song" column in 2014, before he passed...

Artie Shaw. Following my post on Quest for Perfection, the 2003 BBC documentary on Artie Shaw (above), I received he following from David Chilver:

Hi Marc. Thank you for highlighting that excellent documentary on Artie Shaw. I remember watching it when it first came out, and it was great to view it again. The documentary reminded me of something about Artie Shaw that I thought you might be interested in. I'm told I actually met Shaw when I was 1, and that Shaw and his then wife, actress Doris Dowling, each held me in their arms in 1952.

The background to this was the unexpected friendship my father, Pete Chilver, had with him during the 1950s and '60s. At the time, dad had retired from his work as a London-based jazz guitarist in 1951 and moved to Scotland,. There, he embarked on a very different career, managing a restaurant in Edinburgh and a hotel in North Berwick. There were few commercial flights to Edinburgh, so tourism was minimal compared to later years.

So when my dad noticed a booking in the hotel's register under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Shaw, he thought nothing of it—until they checked in. He immediately recognized Artie Shaw and Doris Dowling (they were married from 1952–'56). Dad introduced himself as "Benny Goodman's guitarist." He had played in Benny's quintet alongside Buddy Greco on their 1949 England visit. Shaw explained that he wanted to get away from it all for a week or so and he had chosen North Berwick as somewhere suitably remote where he wouldn't be recognized. So much for that then!

Anyway, the two of them hit it off and became friends—so much so that in the years that followed my parents spent two vacations with the Shaws at Shaw's villa in Spain (although by then Mrs. Shaw was Evelyn Keyes). That was pretty much all I knew until after my dad passed away in 2008, when I discovered a box of his correspondence. In the box was bundle of letters he'd received from Shaw during the 1950s and '60s. They made fascinating reading.

Apart from music, Shaw wrote about many topics, including: his disenchantment with the music business and his desire to start a new career along the lines of my father's; the challenges of writing his book, "The Trouble with Cinderella"; the pros and cons of living in Spain; the frustrations of restaurant dining and the differences between European and American tastes, and various other more mundane topics.

As regards musical matters, both Shaw and my dad enjoyed catholic tastes, so it wasn't entirely surprising that the correspondence covered classical, opera, flamenco, popular vocalists and of course jazz. He had both negative and positive critiques. For example, on the negative side he highlighted singer Yma Sumac as technically able but seriously lacking in taste and musicality. On the jazz side, what struck me was how enthusiastic he was about what were then new developments. In one letter, he urged my dad to get a copy of Miles Davis's "Miles Ahead," which had just been released in the U.S. Shaw thought it was fantastic thanks in part to Gil Evans's arrangements. In another later letter, he shared information that he gleaned from his friend, trumpeter Ernie Royal, about "Porgy and Bess," which was then in rehearsal. Shaw said he couldn't wait for its release.

Elsewhere, Shaw waxed lyrical about a "wonderful young trombone player" he'd come across who was destined for great things. His name? Slide Hampton. In a subsequent letter (around 1960), he discussed a recording session he'd organized and supervised with Hampton that included several young upcoming modernist musicians whose playing Shaw found very refreshing and stimulating (one of them was George Coleman). I believe the album was titled "Sister Salvation."

As I mentioned earlier, these letters were a fascinating read and struck me as being of some historical importance. So after a bit of research a few years ago, I donated them to the University of Arizona, which holds Shaw's archival library of documents, including music scores and business-related correspondence. The archives had very little by way of private correspondence by Shaw, so these letters were very gratefully received.

Al Haig. Following my post on Al Haig last week, Colm O'Sullivan sent along one of the only video clips of Haig at the piano, in 1975....

John Scofield. Last week, Bruno Vasil sent along a photo he took of John Scofield (above). His note prompted me to then reach out to John. First, from Bruno:

Good evening, Marc. I took the photo above last Friday evening at the Regattabar in Cambridge, Mass., of guitarist John Scofield on tour as a solo act. His only accompaniment was his looper pedal on the fly. John is a talent unto himself. An interesting performance. I was sitting about eight feet to his left, not the best place for listening but still quite good. Such a versatile guitarist. His playlist started with the Beatles' "I Will" and ended with a song from 1934, For "All We Know."

Curious about John's guitar, I reached out to him. On a personal level, John is a wonderful guy and a brilliant performer:

Hi Marc. Nice to hear from you. The guitar in Bruno's photo is my Ibanez AS200 from 1986. I did a bunch of solo gigs last week—a new thing for me. It was challenging and rewarding. Hope all is well with you. I have a new recording coming out next spring on ECM called "Swallow Songs"—all tunes by bassist Steve Swallow, who joins drummer Bill Stewart and me in trio. As you may know, Steve's songs have been recorded by many, including Stan Getz, Bill Evans, Gary Burton, Pete LaRocca, Jim Hall, Pat Metheny, Chick Corea and others. Still loving JazzWax!

Here's John in action earlier this year with Larry Goldings on organ and Greg Hutchinson on drums...

Wes Montgomery. Rewind to London in May 1965. Here's guitarist Wes Montgomery with pianist Stan Tracey, bassist Rick Laird and drummer Jackie Dougan playing Here's That Rainy Day...

What the heck. Here are the Spinners in 1973 singing It's a Shame, co-written by Stevie Wonder...

Oddball album cover of the week.

Look familiar? See below...

Five Atsuko Hashimoto Videos

Atsuko Hashimoto is one of the world's finest jazz Hammond organists. Born in Japan, Hashimoto first performed in the U.S. in 1999 and last performed in the U.S. in July. When she tours outside of Japan, she travels with an interpreter, which is probably why she may be little known by many American jazz fans. Let me introduce you to her: Here are five videos of Hashimoto in action:

Here she is in 2010...

Here she is again in 2010...

Here's one from 2011...

Here's The Song Is You...

And here's I've Never Been in Love Before...

Al Haig Plays Jerome Kern

In 1978, Japan's Trio Records recorded pianist Al Haig in New York. By then, American labels had largely written off jazz greats, and Japanese record companies saw an opportunity, especially for their jazz-loving market. The album was Al Haig Plays the Music of Jerome Kern, with Jamil Nasser on bass. These two were so good together that adding a drummer was superfluous. Interestingly, the album was produced by vocalist Helen Merrill, who sang one song accompanied by Haig—They Didn't Believe Me. Like so many of Haig's leadership albums, this one reminds us how crystalline a player he was. Haig was a bebop diety who could swing with plush sensitivity. Like Bud Powell, Haig could shift effortlessly from the scramble of bop into passages of moody elegance, as if offering the listener a cup of hot chocolate as a reward.

The Kern songs on this album are The Way You Look Tonight, Dearly Beloved, Yesterdays (solo), All the Things You Are (solo), Can I Forget You? (solo), The Folks Who Live on the Hill (solo), I'm Old Fashioned, The Song Is You and They Didn't Believe Me.

Dig how Haig opens The Way You Look Tonight, as if he's stealthily slipping through the song's back window; listen to his supersonic and flawless runs up and down the keyboard on Dearly Beloved and All the Things You Are; catch how many different approaches he uses on The Folks Who Live on the Hill; or how he builds tension on I'm Old Fashioned; or how he swings The Song Is You; and the haunting, breathy quality of Helen's voice on They Didn't Believe Me. [Photo above of Helen Merrill and Al Haig]

Born in Newark, N.J., Haig was raised in Nutley, N.J. He played in bands while in the Coast Guard during World War II, from 1942 to '44. After his discharge, he gigged around Boston. Listening to the radio late one night in 1945 or '46, Haig heard someone named Dizzy Gillespie play in New York. Overwhelmed by the new music performed by the trumpeter, Haig headed there to meet him. Haig wound up on 52nd Street, which was crowded with jazz clubs at the time. There, he met Gillespie and introduced himself. [Photo above of Al Haig and Miles Davis on January 21, 1949 at a "Birth of the Cool" session ]

Haig then played the street's clubs with guitarist Tiny Grimes, meeting Charlie Parker when the alto saxophonist and Gillespie came in to hear him one night. They were starting a group and wondered if Haig wanted to join. He did, and eventually he played extensively with Parker, providing Parker with the exciting rush of notes more associated with Bud Powell. Haig then moved on to Stan Getz from 1949 to '51, Chet Baker in 1954 and Gillespie's big band from 1956 to '57. [Photo above of 52nd Street in the mid-1940s]

Today, Haig's leadership recordings remain gorgeous bridges between bop and the stylings of intermission piano. Unfortunately, he has too often been equated with the fleet bop technique of Powell, a comparison that has probably cast him unfairly as a me-too and a so-what. As a result, Haig, like Dodo Marmarosa, has been slipping from view. This album should serve as a reminder that Haig was exceptional in the 1940s, an era when the market was flooded with great pianists, and in the 1970s and beyond, when his approach sounded frighteningly beautiful. Fortunately, Japanese labels still cared. [Photo above of Bud Powell]

Al Haig died in 1982.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Al Haig Plays the Music of Jerome Kern here.

JazzWax clips: Here's the entire album (with one track followed by the next)...

Artie Shaw: The War Years

In early 1942, just months after Pearl Harbor was attacked in December 1941 and the U.S. entered World War II, clarinetist and bandleader Artie Shaw enlisted in the U.S. Navy. Many big-band musicians and several bandleaders did the same out of patriotism. 

According to Artie Shaw: His Life and Music (1998), by John White, Shaw's first naval duty in 1942 was as apprentice seaman aboard a minesweeper docked along New York's Staten Island. Shaw then was sent to Newport, R.I., to start a band, but the venture hit a snag. As quoted in White's book, Shaw said, "I had two men who could blow good; the rest were terrible. Obviously, our only hope was to shape up with a uniform sound. So I asked the two good men to blow bad. Oddly enough, they refused." [Photo of Artie Shaw's Navy Rangers]

After brief hospitalization for migraine headache attacks, Shaw liked the band idea, but he needed a much bigger talent pool. So he went to Washington, D.C., where he persuaded the Secretary of the Navy to allow him to form a new band to take to the Pacific. Shaw was promoted to chief petty officer, and the spectacular band he assembled from recruits enlisted men was called the U.S. Navy Rangers. The band consisted of John Best, Frank Beach, Conrad Gozzo and Max Kaminsky (tp); Tasso Harris, Jesse Ray Heath, Dick le Fave and Tak Takvorian (tb); Artie Shaw (cl); Mac Pierce and Ralph La Polla (as); Sam Donahue and Joe Aglora (ts); Charlie Wade (bar); Claude Thornhill (p); Al Horisch (g); Barney Spieler (b) and Dave Tough (d). [Photo above of Artie Shaw aboard the North Carolina]

The first stop was Pear Harbor, where Shaw's band joined the battleship North Carolina. Max Kaminsky, a member of Shaw's Navy Rangers, said the band had a poor marching record. "We were a horrible excuse for a military band, in spite of the good musicians." [Above, Honolulu's blackout schedule for January 1943; all civilian lights—bulbs and flames—had to be extinguished at nightfall. Doors and windows of residences were required to be covered; car headlights had to be painted a dark color to dim them]

The band's lack of military discipline landed Shaw on the wrong side of his Navy officers. His ego beaten down, Shaw grew disillusioned with Navy life. Said Shaw: "The [top] brass considered our mission silly, and I heard a lot of 'You're not in Hollywood now.'" For nearly five months, the band remained in Honolulu, playing officers' clubs and performing concerts. [Photo above of Artie Shaw in Honolulu with the Navy Rangers]

When the North Carolina and Shaw's band left for the Pacific Islands, Thornhill wasn't on board. Chafing under Shaw's leadership when both had been bandleaders in civilian life, Thornhill wanted out. He lobbied commanders to let him head his own band, and he was granted his request. Shaw and Thornhill wouldn't see much of each other when they returned to the U.S. [Photo above of Artie Shaw and the U.S. Navy Rangers in May 1943 courtesy of the National Archive; see photo details at bottom]

At sea, Shaw's mission was to play for battle-weary sailors on islands thick with palm trees and under the constant threat of attack. The band's schedule was relentless, and many of its musicians suffered from physical and mental fatigue.

By the time the band reached Australia and New Zealand, Shaw said, "the instruments were being held together by rubber bands and sheer will, having survived any number of air raids and damp spells in fox holes; the men themselves were for the most part in similarly varying states of dilapidation." [Photo above of Artie Shaw in 1942 in Honolulu]

As Shaw would later tell Metronome magazine, "Was I scared? You bet I was. Conditions were grim. Nearby boats were being torpedoed. You just quake and wonder if it's you or the next guy who got hit."

On Guadalcanal, the Navy's positions were bombed nightly by the Japanese. One night, Shaw wandered off into the jungle, suffering a partial loss of memory following a bombing. Picked up by a Navy doctor, Shaw spent time recovering in a field hospital. By mid-June 1943, Shaw was leading his Navy band again on an series of island-hopping gigs. Shipped back to the U.S. at the end of 1943, Shaw was photographed in San Francisco on his knees kissing the dock. [Photo above of the battleship North Carolina]

With recurring migraine headaches, Shaw was discharged in February 1944 after spending time in a Naval hospital at Oak Knoll, California. His Navy Rangers band continued under the leadership of Sam Donahue, who dispensed of Shaw's book of arrangements. Their name was changed to the U.S. Navy Liberation Forces Band. [Photo above of the battleship North Carolina]

Unfortunately, the Navy Rangers did not record in Hawaii or during a rest stop in New Zealand. The only track that exists from Hawaii was recorded on January 30, 1943, during a broadcast celebrating President Roosevelt's birthday, when the band played Shaw's theme, Nightmare, as an intro, followed by Begin the Beguine. [Photo above of President Roosevelt preparing to cut his birthday cake on January 30, 1943; he was 61]

I searched online over the weekend and found the Shaw broadcast buried on a recording of the full show. I warn you, the sound isn't great, but it's still the only example we have of Shaw's Navy Rangers...

Nightmare/Begin the Beguine

Shaw's first recording after his discharge came on June 10, 1944, when he was part of an Air Force Recruiting Service Command Performance radio broadcast that featured Bette Davis and Jimmy Durante. Shaw played just one song—Long Ago and Far Away—the only time in his career that he recorded it. I found the recording online in the show's full broadcast at a radio-history site. Here's Shaw's spectacular Long Ago and Far Away, with a knock-out ending and a note that I didn't even think existed on the clarinet...

Long Ago and Far Away

Prevented from recording for RCA after he was discharged due to the American Federation of Musicians' recording ban, Shaw played with Count Basie on September 25, 1944, during an AFRS Jubilee broadcast from Los Angeles. Shaw was on two songs—Oh Lady Be Good and Artie's Blues [Photo, from left in front row: Count Basie, Lionel Hampton, Artie Shaw, Les Paul. Back row: Illinois Jacquet, Tommy Dorsey, Ziggy Elman, Buddy Rich on drums and Eddie McKinney on bass; taken on September 30, 1944, during a jam on Honeysuckle Rose]...

Oh Lady Be Good

Bird Calls

By November 1944, the recording ban was settled and Shaw was back in RCA's studios, until the summer of 1945, when he signed with Musicraft and assembled one of the largest orchestras of his career. As for his years in the service, one imagines that somewhere in Hawaii and New Zealand there are acetates of the band on local radio inherited from a grandparent featuring Shaw's U.S. Navy Rangers performing. We can only wait and hope.

Artie Shaw died in 2004.

JazzWax note: Regarding the photo above taken in May 1943, of two ships side by side as the Shaw band performed, here's an interview conducted after the war with a sailor who was there: "Our destroyer [U.S.S. Pringle] was escorting the battleship North Carolina to New Caledonia in the South Pacific. After five days at sea, we crossed the equator and received orders to fuel up alongside the North Carolina. Ice cream was passed around and a band began to form on the deck. It was Artie Shaw and his Navy Rangers! As the band set up, we lined the port rail of our ship and soon that big band swung into Artie's theme, Nightmare. It was by far the most unique and spine-tingling band session I've ever had the pleasure to hear."

A special thanks to Jimi Mentis.

Art Blakey: Africaine

Wayne Shorter's first studio album with Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers was recorded on November 10, 1959. Two of the six songs on the date were composed by the tenor saxophonist. Then the album sat in the Blue Note vault for 22 years, when it finally was released as Africaine in 1981. We have re-issue producer Michael Cuscuna to thank for dusting off the find. Given that October 11 on Friday was the centenary of Art Blakey's birth, what better time to explore one of my favorite albums by the drummer and his hard-bop group. [Photo above of Art Blakey]

The roots of the Messengers' name date back to 1947, when Blakey formed Art Blakey's Messengers for a Blue Note recording session. Originally, the recordings were released as 78s. Then in 1952, the songs plus others recorded in 1949 were released on a 10-inch LP entitled New Sounds. In 1954, Horace Silver recorded a Blue Note studio album called Horace Silver and the Jazz Messengers.

Two years later, Art Blakey (d), Donald Byrd (tp), Hank Mobley (ts), Horace Silver (p) and Doug Watkins (b) appeared on a hard-bop album for Columbia called The Jazz Messengers. Finally, Blakey formed Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers in 1958, with Lee Morgan (tp), Benny Golson (ts), Bobby Timmons (p), Jymie Merritt (b) and Art Blakey (d) and recorded the Blue Note album Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, most commonly known today as Moanin'.

In the years ahead, a long list of superb musicians played in the group before moving on to solo careers. Playing as one of Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers was a rite of passage, giving players a special seasoning. Performing and recording nagged by Blakey's polyrhythms and press rolls had a burnishing effect on these artists, and they were better musicians and composers for the experience.

The Jazz Messengers on Africaine were Art Blakey (d), Lee Morgan (tp), Wayne Shorter (ts), Walter Davis, Jr. (p), Jymie Merritt (b), with Dizzy Reece playing conga on Africaine and Haina. The album's track list features the title song and Lester Left Town by Shorter, Splendid by Davis, and Haina, The Midget and Celine by Lee Morgan. There isn't a wheel-spinner or tired songbook standard among them. All are simultaneously muscular and pretty. [Photo above of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers in 1959]

What I love most about this album are the exotic rhythms and the heat delivered by Morgan and Shorter. Davis's piano solos are exceptional, and Merritt's taut bass lines are extraordinary. As for Blakey, he's pure machinery here, driving the group hard and mixing up the rhythms. And the songs are aggressive with coy melodies and dashing harmonies by the horns. Shorter's debut with the band was clearly a success. A shame he had to wait 22 years to hear the results. [Photo above of Wayne Shorter by Francis Wolff (c) Mosaic Images]

Art Blakey died in October 1990.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers' Africaine here.

JazzWax clip: Here's the entire album...

Fran, Benny and Gates

Last week in The Wall Street Journal, I interviewed actress Fran Drescher of TV's The Nanny for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). Fran is a hoot. In January, she'll star in Indebted, a new NBC sitcom. According to Wiki, the series "follows a couple, Dave and Rebecca, who are ready to start a new life after years of parenting. That is, until Dave's parents show up unannounced and broke, leaving Dave with no choice but to open the door to the people who gave him everything, which eventually leads to a clash of parental chaos among families." [Photo above of Fran Drescher courtesy of Fran Descher]

Fran talked about growing up in Queens and how her accent stood out, even in her childhood neighborhood, where accents were the size of Buicks. I also asked her about her role as Connie in Saturday Night Fever in 1977 (above). Originally cast as the lead, she says, she wound up in the smaller role after the film switched directors early on. Here are a few things Fran said about the film:

• I did a few bits on my own in the role that weren't in the script. For example, I repeated my character's name in the disco scene so I'd wind up in the credits and not as "girl in green dress."
• I wanted my Connie character to come off as flirty. So you see me put my hand on John Travolta's butt as we walked to the dance floor. I didn't squeeze it or anything. I just rested it there.
• After John's Tony character rejects me by spinning me off the dance floor, I didn't cower. I stood there with my hands on my hips. That wasn't in the script either.
• They shot the longer dance scene that follows a few times. When they were editing, you see me there with my hands on my hips. Then from another angle, I'm suddenly gone.
• The clothes I wore in the film were mine. I must have messed it up at some point, because I no longer have it.
  

Here's Fran in Saturday Night Fever...

And here's The Nanny, which still holds up well. Fran's comedic timing is fabulous...

Benny Goodman. Speaking of singing musicians, here's Benny Goodman swinging Gotta Be This or That with Patti Page in 1957 on her TV show, The Big Record...

Sy Oliver. Here's arranger and bandleader Sy Oliver singing East of the Sun. It's the same arrangement he wrote for Tommy Dorsey and Frank Sinatra in the early 1940s..

Louis Prima. Here's trumpeter Louis Prima with his wife Keely Smith...

Lou Donaldson. Here's alto saxophonist Lou Donaldson singing Just a Dream...

Don Elliott. Here's multi-instrumentalist Don Elliott singing Speak Low...

Les McCann. And here's pianist Les McCann singing On the Street Where You Live...

Artie Shaw. Here's Artie Shaw playing a spectacular arrangement of Where or When, which he recorded only once, in 1950, for Decca...

Giacomo Gates. Last week, I caught bop vocalist Giacomo Gates at New York's Mezzrow. Above, singer Diana Perez caught us having fun between sets.

Harold Mabern. Following the death of pianist Harold Mabern in September, Bret Primack released a tribute video complete with interviews...

What the heck: Here are the Delfonics singing Somebody Loves You in 1971...

Oddball album cover of the week.

Wow, that's some party. Looks like one gal forgot to tell the other what she planned to wear. The accordionist appears to be playing Taps. And the gents are high up the creepy scale. Even weirder, the drapes in the back. They look like they're set up as stage curtains. 

Jazz Musicians Who Sang

Besides Louis Armstrong, Nat King Cole, Dizzy Gillespie, Chet Baker and many pianists like Shirley Horn, Matt Dennis, Blossom Dearie, Bobby Troup and others who played and sang at clubs, a good number of jazz musicians could sing quite well. Here are eight:

Here's trombonist Jack Teagarden playing and singing It's All in Your Mind...

Here's pianist Oscar Peterson singing and playing Orange Colored Sky...

Here's drummer Grady Tate singing and playing Suicide Is Painless, the theme to M*A*S*H...

Here's trumpeter Kenny Dorham singing and playing Angel Eyes...

Here's George Benson playing and singing Beyond the Sea...

Here's trumpeter Jack Sheldon singing and playing What Kind of Fool Am I in 1964...

Here's saxophonist James Moody singing and playing Moon River...

And here's Buddy Rich singing One for My Baby...

Five Videos: Duke Ellington

The rise of swing and jazz's sophisticated impressionism starts with Duke Ellington. His first recordings were with Wilbur Sweatman and His Acme Syncopators in August 1924. His first leadership 78 was recorded in November of that year, billed as the Washingtonians. His first Columbia record came in March 1927, with East St. Louis Toodle-oo becoming a #10 hit. From there, he would go on to compose and arrange lush and jumping jazz compositions on his own and with Billy Strayhorn that continue to influence musicians to this day. Here are five videos that illustrate Ellington's vast contribution:

Here's a segment on Ellington in a BBC documentary on jazz...

Here's Ellington's orchestra playing behind singer-dancers Paul White and Marie Bryant in 1942...

Here's Ellington and his orchestra in Switzerland in 1959...

Here's Ellington and his orchestra in Montreal in 1964...

And here's Ellington and orchestra playing Solo for Johnny Hodges in 1969...

Poncho Sanchez: Trane's Delight

Like many Latin jazz legends—including Tito Puente, Mongo Santamaria, Carlos "Patato" Valdés, Ray Barretto, Candido, Carlos Vidal and others—Poncho Sanchez is a percussionist. Born in Laredo, Texas, Sanchez has been a leading conga player and bandleader for decades. His big break came in 1975, when vibraphonist Cal Tjader hired him for his band. Before he died in 1982, Tjader urged Concord Records to sign Sanchez. The label took Tjader's advice, and Sanchez has recorded 27 albums for Concord over the past 37 years, winning a Grammy along the way (for Latin Soul in 1991). Starting with Poncho for the Discovery label in 1979, Sanchez has maintained a stunning consistency as a leader. Every album I can think of is leg-shaking and loaded with the most seductive Latin grooves sifted with top-shelf jazz. That's a tribute to Sanchez's superb taste and a love of the listener. There's never any wheel-spinning with Sanchez, only seduction at every turn.

Now the savory tradition has been extended to Sanchez's latest album, Trane's Delight (Concord Picante). The album, dedicated to John Coltrane, is more of a tip of the hat to the saxophonist than a mirroring of his compositions. In fact, only three of the 11 tracks on the album are Coltrane's originals—Liberia, Giant Steps and Blue Train. But you can hear Coltrane's boldness and confidence throughout. Hats off to Francisco Torres, who wrote the gentle mambo, son, bolero and cha-cha-cha arrangements.

Sanchez has the most seductive conga rhythms, and his carefully chosen team of musicians follows suit in terms of playing tough but pretty. His vision for the sound he wants and the textures delivered are remarkable. If you're not keeping tempo with your thumbs on a hard surface while listening to this album, something is wrong. Trane's Delight is one of my favorite albums of the year and a must own. Bravo Poncho!

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Poncho Sanchez's Trane's Delight (Concord Picante) here. 

JazzWax clips: Here's Soul Bourgeoisie...

Here's John Coltrane's Giant Steps...

And here's Yammote...

Joe Pass and Tommy Gumina

I last wrote about accordionist Tommy Gumina in 2011. Gumina and clarinetist Buddy DeFranco recorded five albums together in the early 1960s that remain swinging, moody and fascinating. Buddy and Gumina came up with a system of playing that involved polytones. As Buddy told me at the time for the post: "As I’m playing in one key, Tommy was playing unusual structures of chord progressions so it sounded like a different key. I was able to play along, traveling in any of the chord structures he put together. To the average ear, the joy is in the clash of these two keys. The result was a texture that sounded both off-kilter and just right. A little messy but right on target." [Photo above of Tommy Gumina]

Now I want to share with you two other terrific albums by Gumina, with guitarist Joe Pass. These albums aren't as well known or easy to find. The first is Sentimental Moods, with Pass, Gumina and Jimmie Smith on drums. Recorded for Polytone in June 1987, a record label formed by Gumina and Pass, the album features My Ship, Once in a While, Cavaquino, In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning, Secret Love, I'm Getting Sentimental Over You, When You Wish Upon a Star, About Time, Will You Give Me These and Guess I'll Have to Hang My Tears Out to Dry.

The second, Autumn Leaves, features the same trio plus Buddy DeFranco. It also was recorded for Polytone, in November 1989. The songs selected are The Way You Look Tonight, Smile, Autumn Leaves, Teach Me Tonight, I Love You, Without a Song, When I Fall in Love, Polly Wants a Tonic and Pretty By You.

Gumina on these two albums played an instrument called the polycorus, which he designed and built. It's similar to an accordion but allowed him to provide a bass line and notes and chords that sound as if they're emanating from an organ. The polycorus also gave Pass a thick reedy background to swing on. All of the musicians are superb, with solos flying like a flurry of perfectly tossed darts. The harmonies are wonderful in the trio setting and only become more colorful and exciting when Buddy joins in on the second album. The beauty of Pass, Gumina, Smith and Buddy is that they fully appreciated how to maximize harmony and swing. Just doin' what sounds great. What a combination. [Photo above of Joe Pass]

To read my earlier post on Tommy Gumina, go here. [Photo above of Buddy DeFranco]

Tommy Gumina died in 2013, Joe Pass died in 1994, and Buddy DeFranco died in 2014.

JazzWax tracks: Sentimental Moods and Autumn Leaves are out of print. There are several copies of Autumn Leaves at eBay here. You may be able to find Sentimental Moods on vinyl as Sound Project. Omnivore may want to look into a re-issue of these two.

JazzWax clips: Here's My Shining Hour from Sentimental Moods...

My Shining Hour

Here's The Way You Look Tonight, with Buddy DeFranco...

The Way You Look Tonight

And here's Without a Song, with Buddy DeFranco...

Without a Song