Review: Lou Donaldson - The Natural Soul

After reviewing one too many lacklustre Lou Donaldson albums, I realised that it might look like I don't actually like the alto sax great. But in truth I actually do love Lou Donaldson, or at least his fifties and early sixties classics. So here's perhaps my favourite Donaldson (it might change next week)...

After a direct and successful foray into soul-jazz with ‘Here ‘Tis’, Lou Donaldson took a further step away from hard bop and upped the funk levels a further notch. And as with that first organ effort, Donaldson assembled another crack band, again featuring Grant Green on guitar, with John Patton providing the Hammond this time around (in place of Baby Face Willette), Ben Dixon on the drumstool and Tommy Turrentine (brother of tenor sax man Stanley) on trumpet.

The overall feel of the session is one of a relaxed groove, with the three rhythm men providing a cooking pulse, and despite hitting some fiery highs, the group always sounds easy and comfortably laid-back. Green’s solos in particular simply soar, but also do so leaving a sensation of euphoria and invigoration. Patton and Donaldson for the most part keep up and match Greens heady solos, while Turrentine unfortunately mostly sounds awkward and somewhat self-muted, playing behind Donaldson and keeping his lines short, as if he’s struggling to adapt his trumpet sound from its usual hard bop to suit the slow soul groove being newly asked of him.

The three standards handled here are done so skilfully and full of verve, and with Pattons own ‘Funky Mama’ building up a steamy smouldering mood, while Johnny Acea’s ‘Nice And Greasy’ sounds cheerfully exactly as the title suggests. It’s Donaldsons own originals though that leave the overall indelible impression, which themselves aren’t more than just outlines of blues and souls vamps, riffs and rhythms, but they create the perfect springboard for all five men to work up something truly hot each time.

And it is exactly that which Lou Donaldson is trying to achieve with ‘The Natural Soul’; groove - hot and hypnotic groove. Funky jazz, without being funk, it leaves the listener knowing and feeling more for the chops of all the players involved, with the longer the pieces being, the more room each of the leads has to stretch and fully develop their solos. ‘Funky Mama’ and ‘Sow Belly Blues’ may both be close to ten minutes, but Patton, Green and Donaldson ensure that they pass in no time at all.

A strong jazz album on its own, it can also serve to double up as a backing to a laid-back smokey party without being cocktail music. It also builds on the incredible high standard set by Donaldsons first step into the soul-jazz waters with ‘Here ‘Tis’ and remains one of his very best efforts, in any genre. For the most ideal crossover between the worlds of bop and soul, look no further.

*****

Review: Freddie Hubbard - Night Of The Cookers

A live Freddie Hubbard recording should always really be something of a welcome prospect, which given their limited number makes ‘The Night Of The Cookers’ even more disappointing. A double album of two club night performances of long and extended pieces, we get four tracks all around the twenty-minute mark showcasing a duelling match between trumpet kings Hubbard and Lee Morgan, with support from a mixed band supplying sax and flute, piano, bass, drums and congas. And with one of those players being the excellent James Spaulding, this should have been a classic. Instead it comes nowhere close.

First of all, the recording itself is appalling, sounding badly miked, muddy and quite often nowhere near the instruments. There are some otherwise good solos here that are ruined by the fact that you can’t hear them because the rhythm section is so far in front, that the soloist is completely distant and buried in the mix.

Second is that the long jams that make up the bulk of the music are a chaotic and jangled mess. The full band is often found playing as hard and as much as they can all at the same time, with little in the way of space or breathing room. ‘Pensativa’ is almost a complete waste of time for this very reason, with ‘Walking’ benefitting from a more blues-sounding strut, but is still far from acceptable.

More confusingly and unexpectedly is that the legendary Lee Morgan here sounds completely abysmal and lost, with Hubbard clearly sounding in a different and stronger league. There are a lot of solos on this gig, and most of them are far too stretched out, starting as they do frequently with too little an idea - Morgan in particular is devastatingly uninspired throughout.

‘Jodo’ picks up things with some strong moments and a nice fast paced rhythm, which unfortunately gives way to some appalling conga solos, and leaving it to Hubbard’s own ‘Breaking Point’ to steal the small honour of easily being the best piece here. Melding Spanish-informed music with a calypso feel, it sounds like the band has finally finished rehearsal and is now stepping up to something approaching an A-game. It’s sad then that the sound is still atrocious.

There are some good bits and pieces here and there scattered throughout, but nothing that isn’t available in a much better format, or sound quality, on other more solid releases, for either trumpet stars here. Each also has better live efforts too; in Hubbards excellent ‘Without A Song’ and Morgans definitive three album set ‘Live At The Lighthouse’. Regardless of these though, nothing with this bad a sound recording should ever be put out as an ‘official’ release, and for the price and poor quality of the music in general, this one should without exception be side-stepped and forgotten.

*

Review: Lou Donaldson - Pretty Things

‘Pretty Things’ is unquestionanly one of Lou Donaldson’s worst efforts, and it certainly reaches the lowest point of his two decade career with Blue Note. Less a terrible recording, and more just flat, an organ takes up most of the space over a range of material that is mostly lacklustre completely unmemorable; the only worthy points really being the jams and solos that Donaldson and underrated trumpet-man supreme Blue Mitchell only very occasionally contribute.

Oddly, Donaldson’s distinct alto tone is traded in on some pieces for some tryouts on the baritone sax, which while he plays just fine, lacks any personality or voom. There are small good sections here, but they are few and far between, and there’s certainly nothing here that hasn’t been done better elsewhere by Donaldson, before or after. Decidedly inessential and justly very hard to track down, ‘Pretty Things’ is simply best wiped from Donaldson’s generally otherwise strong discography.

**

Review: Lou Donaldson - Hot Dog

‘Hot Dog’ is typical of Lou Donaldson’s late 60’s soul-jazz steered in the direction of more commercially funky territory, and while not the failure that his later 70’s material often was, it remains pretty uneven, with every peak high matched by an equal low. As usual, the worst pieces are the covers of then contemporary soul and R&B numbers, which in this case both open and close the album; ‘Who’s Making Love’ is a frankly abysmal performance and how it passed muster with any kind of producer is bewildering, while ‘It’s Your Thing’ attempts heavy funk, only to sound merely heavy and bloated, and yet still curiously empty.

The remainder though sounds surprisingly very tasty indeed, with Tommy Turrentine’s ‘Bonnie’ providing the perfect romantic ballad for Donaldson to showcase his beautifully melodic playing. Elsewhere, the original composition ‘Turtle Walk’ seems to snap the group awake and in line to the right groove, and the soloists all sound alive and fully-charged. Donaldson’s own title piece meanwhile showcases both the best and worst of this era of his career, with some serious and exciting addictive funk coming into play, but at the same time nothing major happens for a very long time over ten decidedly thinly-stretched minutes.

So ‘Hot Dog’ manages in its five pieces to feature two disastrous cuts, two standouts and one that falls down to just above average. Showing Donaldson as being as being very capable indeed, as well as being equally poor and lacklustre, the recording as a whole is woefully inconsistent, and only Donaldson fans should really check it out, but as weak as it is those highs that are here are genuinely worth the time.

**

Review: Grant Green - Solid

Grant Green recorded a truly vast number of sessions for Blue Note in the early ‘60s. So many in fact, that a good number, both as leader and as a highly-regarded sideman, were left in the vaults for many years, and not released until after his young death in ’79, and his later rediscovery by the acid-jazz crowd in the early-90s.

Of those left in the can, most in fact rank alongside his finest works, such as his two sessions recorded with the rhythm section of McCoy Tyner, Bob Cranshaw and Elvin Jones, which made the excellent ‘Matador’ and, with the additions of Joe Henderson and James Spaulding, would go on to make ‘Solid’.

‘Solid’ is perhaps the hardest sounding recording Green has ever made, not that the set itself ever becomes hard - all the players here have recorded much harder-edged material with other bandleaders. Strong material choices come from a wide range of sources, taking in the jazz world (Sonny Rollins, Joe Henderson, Duke Pearson), pop (Burt Bacharach) and Greens own always strong compositions.

‘Minor League’ sets up an upbeat opening that swings and gives us some great solos from Green and his largest ever horn section, while ‘Ess-Thetic’ will come as a strong surprise to any who would erroneously claim he possessed lesser technical skills than that of Wes Montgomery or George Benson. Elvin Jones too makes a great bid for his spotlight moment with some highly notable drumming.

The title-track and Greens own ‘Grant’s Tune’ are more blues-based, with a laid back yet good time feel, while Henderson’s frequently covered ‘The Kicker’ gets a slower paced cover than is usual, and invites favourable comparison with both Bobby Hutchersons and Horace Silvers takes on the same number. Oddly, on most re-issues of the album, Bacharach’s ‘Wives And Lovers’ is tacked on the end. It’s the exact same version that’s also on Green’s earlier ‘Matador’ sessions, and while it does sit better there, it still feels very badly out of place and tacked-on on both recordings.

‘Idle Moments’ and ‘Street Of Dreams’ come as the more well-known ‘cool’ recordings from Green, with many others coming highly recommended, such as ‘Grants First Stand’ or ‘Sunday Mornin’’. ‘Solid’ however in its different groove is a good set of harder-bopping blues-jazz, and is strongly advised for anyone who is interested in hearing Grant with a harder edge.

****

Review: Eliane Elias - Paulistana

After proving herself a talented and unique piano voice, albeit with a sometimes frustratingly erratic output, Eliane Elias hit gold with ‘Fantasia’, a beautiful album that was received with strong critical notices and sold handsomely. And thankfully for her follow-up, ‘Paulistana’, she wisely continued in the same vein and continues on a decidedly handsome winning streak.

As before a nicely rounded mix of Brazillian composers hits from the likes of Barroso, Jobim and Bonfa are here alongside Elias’ own strong efforts peppering the mix. The opening salvo of the anthemic ‘Brazil’, Carlos Lyra’s classic ‘Influencia Do Jazz’ and Elias’ own ‘Paulistana’ alone is a huge treat, with each possessing a distinct and memorable melody.

Her favoured piano trio is the format of choice here, with Elias keen to hint at Bill Evans, as well as showcasing her own sound, with many tracks benefitting from some soulful and rhythmic percussion. On the downside, a handful of tracks also unweildily gain some of Elias’ vocals. Not to say that her voice is bad though - in fact its limited range is heightened by the warm and sensuous tone she brings to the lyrics – but its occasional lead means that her own piano playing, her greatest asset, is at times greatly reduced.

A warm and enjoyable listening experience, the recasting of these classics in a jazz format is a winning success, and Elias’ own pieces here, including the title track, are also much stronger than before, blending nicely with the well-chosen covers. And even despite the small flaws, ‘Paulistana’ is a great uplifting jazz record that sits nicely in Eliane Elias’ discography.

****

Review: Hank Mobley - Workout

Hank Mobley has often been tagged as one of the lesser saxophone players of the 1950’s and 1960’s era. Dubbed ‘the middleweight champion of the world’ by critic Leonard Feather, to reflect his neither having the heavyweight aggression and free explorations of John Coltrane or the lighter melodically rich stylings of Stan Getz, and instead possessing a strong ‘rounded’ quality, many often mistakenly took the term to be one of derision. Commercial success too seemed to elude him, and only briefly playing with Miles Davis, and heard on his ‘Someday My Prince Will Come’, he was roundly dismissed as being an incompatible match for what Davis wanted.

The truth though is that despite his lack of unique style or tone, and his in truth no better than just good technique, he was always a highly melodic and lyrical tenor man, who though lacking any notably distinctive improvisational prowess, was also a very impressive composer. His career as bandleader is usually seen as being in three clear parts; the good mid-fifties work, the career plateaux of the early sixties, and everything later from the mid-sixties and a few sessions from the early seventies. His early sixties work then is the definitive period that everyone should check out, it being for the most part responsible for the half dozen truly excellent albums he recorded.

‘Workout’, recorded in 1961, is one of his very best, just nipping at the heels of ‘Soul Station’ (and possibly ‘Roll Call’) for the position of his best album. The title track and ‘Smokin’’ are pure bop and hard bop with Mobley at his most impassioned and best, while ‘Greasin’ Easy’ is a harder blues and ‘Uh Huh’ occupies a more soul and R&B field. Excellent tunes played superbly, they’re all by Mobley, and sit nicely with the two standards here which feature the tenor saxman at his most beautiful.

‘Three Coins In A Fountain’ is typically lyrical Hank, but ‘The Best Things In Life Are Free’ is simply uplifting euphoria and happiness in musical form. Staying close to the melody of the piece, it’s a sunny rendition and the good time everyone in the studio is having is palpable in the air.

The Wynton Kelly Trio with Paul Chambers on bass and Philly Joe Jones on drums provide a great rhythm. Kelly’s piano lines are tasteful and slightly bluesy, providing a nice match against Grant Greens highly valuable guitar ork, whose own interplay with Mobley on his ‘Uh Huh’ is outstanding. But no-one on this sesson plays better than Mobley himself, his pristine tone and lyrical beauty here unassailable.

*****

Review: Lou Donaldson - Everything I Play Is Funky

‘Everything I Play Is Funky’ is one of Lou Donaldson’s best takes on the commercial funk and soul inflected jazz of the 1970’s, that while sure to antagonise any purists of jazz scholars will easily find many admirers in the groove crowd. Relaxed and strutting, the music is carried forward with steady casual ease, and that’s what makes the session work – low on group and individual improvisation, heavy on groove.

The obligatory cover of a soul or R&B hit, which normally approaches disastrous, is carried off much stronger than usual, with the near title track ‘Everything I Do Gonna Be Funky (From Now On)’, and it makes a great opener, before being followed by a take on Lionel Hampton’s simple ‘Hamp’s Hump’ and then a melodically rich, and thankfully free of schmaltz, ‘Over The Rainbow’.

Three Donaldson originals that make up the second half of the album are where the real money is though, with ‘Donkey Walk’ laying down a driving funk and propelling everyone involved to give their best performances, especially in the solos. ‘West Indian Daddy’ carries an appropriately Caribbean vibe and a buoyant mood that sounds like everyone in the studio is having a great time, and the closing ‘Minor Bash’ sounds more jazz flavoured than the rest of the pieces here, but not too much as not to fit in with the rest.

All in all, it’s a good session, with a good mix of material and moods, with key credit going to the rhythm section of Melvin Sparks on guitar, bassist Jimmy Sparks and funk drummer maestro Idris Muhammad. Charles Earland and Lonnie Smith alternate on organ, and Blue Mitchell and Eddie Williams switch around on trumpet duties, and everyone shines, with no-one letting the side down. Lou Donaldson from 1970 onward would tend to make mostly inconsistent and disappointing records in the funk style, but ‘Everything…’ manages to be one of his very few that rise above the mire and stand on its own two feet as a much-loved soulful funk-jazz recording.

****

Review: Dexter Gordon - Clubhouse

‘Clubhouse’, recorded in 1965 during a brief return to the States from his new home of Copenhagen, is one of a small number of Dexter Gordon albums that were recorded but not released until much later - in this case a whole entire decade later.

A curious recording, it features a great band in Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Barry Harris on piano, and Bob Cranshaw and Billy Higgins on bass and drums, with some appropriately strong playing, but oddly features some questionable material.

Three Gordon originals are present and highly welcome, and the classic ‘I’m A Fool To Want You’ is given an impassioned performance that makes it easily the best thing here. Why Gordon chose to cover the pretty much unknown ‘Devilette’ and ‘Lady Iris B’ then is a total mystery. Unmemorable and devoid of any real substance, Dexter still manages to solo well and transform the songs into something better. They are though noticeably weaker affairs than usual, given the lack of any real hook to really dig into.

A fairly mixed bag then it features some good music, and some good playing, but overall it just misses that sparkle and punch you’ve come to expect from Dexter Gordon, lacks excitement and really this is quite an easy effort to give a miss. Far from essential.

**

Review: Grant Green - Am I Blue

Grant Green’s ‘Am I Blue?’ is one of the least issued and sometimes harder to find of his many prolific recordings, which ultimately is just as well, as sadly despite occurring in his prime period it’s also one of his least interesting. In theory and on paper it certainly has everything to be a good grouping; the winning organ trio of Green, Big John Patton and Ben Dixon (always excellent together) with the excellent Joe Henderson on tenor sax, and Johnny Coles on the trumpet. In practice though, it’s sorely missing what made most of Greens work frequently excellent.

Everyone here plays well, but the material – all covers - is weak and mostly below par. For the most part mid and slow tempo, the mood is laid-back but often sleepy and, just occasionally, dull. Interaction between the members is weak too, almost as though everyone was tired and playing at the end of a rough session and sounding not at all like they were even in the studio at the same time. On the plus side, Henderson supplies some fine grit and fire throughout, and Green shows some trademark good licks, while at the other end Coles and his trumpet seem mostly misplaced and superfluous.

‘Am I Blue?’ is certainly listenable, and even a below-average Green album is still well worth hearing. Best of all, it marks the end of the run of ‘themed-concept’ albums that he had been required to record, having gone through varying levels of success with gospel, country, spiritual, latin and now blues. This is not a bad album; rather it is a lesser effort from a usually sublime artist. After this he would go on to his undisputable career high-point, recording a cracking run of sublime albums that anybody should own before this one; ‘Idle Moments’, ‘Matador’, ‘Solid’, ‘Talkin’ About’ and ‘Street Of Dreams’. Compared to those masterworks, this doesn’t match-up by quite some way, and it certainly pales against his first works for Blue Note before the themes crept in, but if you need your Green fix this is alright. Mostly this is a distinctly average effort from a premier musician.

**

Review: Hank Mobley - Thinking Of Home

‘Thinking Of Home’, after more than twenty albums as bandleader, was Hank Mobley’s final session with Blue Note. Recorded in 1970, it would go unreleased until a decade later, and he would record only one more ever album in 1972, before completely disappearing from the jazz world.

With Mobley for his label farewell is the excellent trumpeter Woody Shaw, who gets to show some good solo fire alongside longtime Mobley sideman Cedar Walton, and largely unknown guitarist Eddie Diehl. Both men get good spots, but this is firmly the Mobley/Shaw show. Mickey Bass and Lex Humphries are also present to provide a solid yet largely noteless no-frills rhythm.

A three-part suite opens, showing a rare long-form composition from Mobley. It’s a good start if sometimes a little flat, before ‘Justine’ creeps in. An open and contemplative piece, it lasts for thirteen minutes and features some solid solos from everyone except ironically Mobley, but overall it runs out of steam long before it comes to an end, and ultimately drags its heels to the finish. ‘You Gotta Hit It’ elevates things with a nice stomping hard bop and signals a strong second half to the session where everyone sounds a bit more relaxed, including the one boogaloo piece here ‘Talk About Gittin’ It’.

‘Thinking Of Home’ is a somewhat surprising later Mobley recording. There’s no obvious commercial drive or over-arching formula here, but instead a lot of modal ideas. But, while refreshing from the glut of his other later work, it sounds mostly limited and awkward. Most importantly and sadly though, Mobley sounds decidedly ‘off’ throughout. His tone, that was bright and full of life during his time with Art Blakey and on his own prime Blue Note early sixties work, is here grey and lifeless. And as a player too he heartbreakingly sounds very tired and burned out (he even looks knackered on the album cover photo).

This isn’t a recommendable piece of Mobleys history. There are much stronger points for newcomers and for anyone who wants to delve deeper beyond his handful of classics and excellent albums, there are better destinations. It has it’s moments but, with the overall feeling being one of sadness at how good he used to sound, only Mobley die-hards, (of whom I count myself), will truly want this one.

**

Review: Freddie Hubbard - Without A Song: Live In Europe

Not that Freddie Hubbards death created a new sudden desire for unissued and locked-in-the-vault material, but it certainly did fire the many labels he had recorded for to leap into very quick action. And with his existing live recorded output woefully thin on the ground, and variable in quality, ‘Without A Song: Live In Europe’ is justifiably one of the most anticipated of his post-humous releases. Recorded from 1969 in three different venues from London, Bristol and some unspecified location in Germany, the trumpeter was actually involved in the processes for its release too. Excited about the album and other similar archival finds, it really is a great shame that he didn’t live to see this release in all its glory.

A strong live band is formed around the rhythm of bassist Ron Carter and drummer Louis Hayes, with Roland Hanna lending his skills on piano, and interestingly no second horn, allowing Hubbard full reign to solo as he pleases, with his signature sound showcased immediately from the start. The mood throughout is notably buoyant and joyful and sounding like everyone is fully enjoying themselves, with just ‘The Things We Did Last Summer’ dipping into more melancholic ballad fare, but still sounding beautiful – just like the other ballad here, ‘Body & Soul’, which in fact is the only piece to have appeared elsewhere in the Hubbard discography, with everything else here tantalisingly receiving its very first release.

It’s very close to being consistently all good too, from the slower ballads to the energetic classic of ‘A Night In Tunisia’, with Hubbard simmering all over the set. There’s some raw aggression here too, but being Hubbard of course, it’s all done with a clear head for emotional resonance, while Hayes supplies the requisite thunder, opening many of the numbers with impressive and powerful attack. His inspired playing on ‘Blues By Five’ in particular is a treat to behold.

The end of the set closes questionably however, starting with the far-out and distinctly free ‘Space Track’. Manic, abstract, and unsettling it doesn’t sit well with the rest of the tunes here, and would have been better left off altogether. Never-the-less, it was Hubbard himself who insisted on its inclusion. Thankfully things then end on a high with ‘Hub-Tones’, four minues of high energy interplay, with so much going on, it sounds like eight minutes compacted to fit everything in. Hayes’ brief solo is a nice touch too.

The entire band, unsurprisingly, sounds good here, but there is no mistake that this is Hubbards show, and he is shown in a very good light indeed – as the true master of the trumpet that he was, with command over both melody and also a strong swaggering muscularity. Despite the disjointed inclusion of ‘Space Track’, this is an essential Hubbard recording of the moment just before he joined the CTI stable and entered arguably the most commercially successful phase of his career.

****

Review: Donald Byrd - Electric Byrd

Donald Byrd’s 1970’s ‘Electric Byrd’ was the trumpet players own reaction to rival Miles Davis’ ‘Bitches Brew’ and the musical gauntlet it had thrown down. It is also seen by many of the jazz cognoscenti as his last worthwhile jazz effort, before he confidently strode into the funk world and the massive commercial successes that it would bring him.

Byrd of course rose to the challenge he had set himself brilliantly. With just the slightest presence of Miles looming, Byrd occupies the same sound but with his own style setting the agenda for the explorations here. Just four lengthy tracks, all orginals, make up the album, with the undeniable masterpiece ‘Estavanico’ opening. Eleven perfect minutes form a groove that redefines the term fusion, taking in a heady brew of jazz, funk, samba and psychedelia among many others. Atmospheric and simply just brilliant, it’s one of Byrds highest creative and musical peaks, and any even casual fans of Miles’ seventies work should definitely check it out.

‘Essence’ completely changes direction with a languorous and strolling bass line, and some wah-wah guitar just bubbling beneath with barely-contained restraint. More exciting rhythms too propel everything forward and allowing a line of soloists to impress with some highly skilled yet not overdone use of echo technology. ‘Xibaba’ takes us back into a Brazillian flavoured groove and some very catchy rhythms on a variety of exotic percussion, with some perfectly pitched soothing flute. It takes a while to get going, but the eastern sounding trumpet that opens is outstanding, and when it heats up, the complex and swirling sounds that engulf the listener are something really very special.

‘The Dude’ meanwhile lives up to its name with one of the heaviest grooves ever – and, like the rest of the album, deserves much greater exposure than it has received. The group is almost big band in size, with a mix of youngsters and old hands blending seamlessly, and a great jazz and funk hybrid is created that is different enough in sound from Byrd’s contemporaries to make it really stand out.

Often, and mistakenly, generalised as being in the same vein as Byrds later funkier, poppier and lighter output, ‘Electric Byrd’ is still a jazz album at heart and it still sounds like a groundbreaking revelation today. To some it’s his last great jazz album, but whatever you think of his later work, this is both a key part of his recording history and is simply awesome music.

*****

Review: Grant Green - Matador

Grant Green’s ‘Matador’ was recorded in 1964 during his prolific four-year frenzy at Blue Note, where he recorded over twenty sessions under his own name (and many more as a sideman) for producer Alfred Lion. ‘Matador’ though is one of those many sessions that went unreleased for a good many years until after Greens premature death. Finally given a Japan-only release in 1979, it eventually went on to get the first of a few issues in the rest of the world in 1990. And again it’s another head scratcher as to why this recording took so long to see the light of day.

Teamed with two of John Coltrane’s famed quartet rhythm section, McCoy Tyner on piano and Elvin Jones on drums, as well as Sonny Rollins regular Bob Cranshaw on bass, this is not only one of the best of Green’s unreleased works, but one of the best of all of his works.

The Green original ‘Matador’ leads, with an easy going rhythm - the mood one of smouldering energy, which surely inspired the pieces title, along with the theme that opens and closes helping to convey a subtlebut smouldering Spanish feel. Green seemed to possess more than just a passing interest in Spain around this time, also writing the similarly themed ‘Plaza De Toros for Larry Young’s ‘Into Somethin’’ album – which Green also played on. McCoy Tyner plays some supple runs that work to create a calming effect, and you’d swear you can hear some small hints in his playing of the next song to come.

An ambitious gamble makes the second track here, with Green deciding to tackle John Coltrane’s famous personal theme ‘My Favorite Things’. Playing with half of Coltrane’s band, Green none-the-less recasts the tune into his own, with a typically relaxed breezy take on the melody, before attacking a solo with gusto, but never losing the easy rhythm. Building in unhurried intensity, it’s an emotive release before returning relaxed and natural to the main melody. Tyner’s solo that follows is one of his best, and is if anything better than the more famous one he recorded on Coltrane’s well-known version. A brave move to take on another artists signature work, and especially one as revered as Coltrane, Green none-the-less succeeds with flying colours, and any comparisons that are to be invited are wholly favourable.

‘Green Jeans’ is an altogether lighter and freer piece, with Green sounding upbeat and playful, before ‘Bedouin’ takes us back to a more moody setting. Elvin Jones’ only solo of the album here is pure gold, and when the rest of the band come back in, full-tilt, they sound euphoric and brimming with renewed energy. In contrast, the oddly tacked-on cover of Burt Bacharach’s ‘Wives And Lovers’ is best described as ‘not bad’. Pleasant enough, it sounds good, but is not a patch on the four excellent tunes that go before it, and is by no means indispensible.

Seemingly treated (by the record label at least) as one of the lesser Green articles in his sizeable canon, with poor attention to more up-to-date remastering and even the artwork (it’s nice enough, but rivals ‘Iron City’ as the blandest, most personality-free Green album art), it is simply one of his best. Great tunes handled with skill and a real feeling for the music, it deserves serious re-evaluation and a more lovingly handled restoration work. After Green’s more famous and highly regarded work, you should immediately check this out.

****

Review: Lou Donaldson - The Scorpion - Live At The Cadillac Club

For someone with the career of Lou Donaldson, spanning some fifty years and more than forty studio sessions as a bandleader, his live recordings are surprising thin on the ground. Worse still is the fact that those that do exist are disappointingly weak, the saddest and truest case in point being the oddly-titled ‘The Scorpion – Live At The Cadillac Club’.

Made up of extended funk and R&B grooves, the bulk of the music sounds nicely repetitve to shuffle along to in a club, but nothing really happens beyond the rhythms, which themselves start promisingly but quickly run out of puff. Guitarist Melvin Sparks, organist Leon Spencer and drummer Idris Muhammad keep the groove solid and tight, but even they aren’t able to hold it from simply becoming tired.

The little known Fred Ballard surprisingly emerges as a partial star here, possessing a bright tone and playing with enthusiastic abandon. His likeability however shows up his boss quite badly, with usual alto player Donaldson choosing during this time the baritone saxophone, which unfortunately gives him a completely indistinct sound and with a mostly hard to like harsh tone.

Nothing really occurs over the course of the record. Fans may notice the presence of Donaldson favourite ‘Aligator Bogaloo’ in the mix, but it’s not the cooking title track from the album of the same name; rather it’s an extended dragged out meander though the theme. The sound recording is good, but that’s only a minor saving grace in not only one of Lou Donaldson’s weakest outputs, but also his frankly his dullest.

**

Review: Lou Donaldson - Here 'Tis

Lou Donaldson’s ‘Here ‘Tis’ from 1961, recorded with a stellar band including Grant Green on guitar, Baby Face Willette on organ and Dave Bailey on drums, is one of Lou Donaldsons very best albums, finding the alto-saxophonist playing harder than usual but moving from his more familiar bop into soul-jazz territory. The first of many such excursions, the group avoid making it sound like a ‘transitional’ effort, and more like a confident stride into an already comfortable fit.

All three of the support players know how to handle a groove, and they do so with easy finesse, moving things forward with real grit and never allowing things to falter or dip for a second. In fact, just on their own the trio would be able to provide a truly memerising record, but Donaldson throws everything he’s got into his muscular yet bluesy playing and demonstrates that the more soul-orietated direction is really his ideal format. ‘A Foggy Day’, ‘Cool Blues’ and ‘Watusi Jump’ are all driving soul numbers that would truly get the crowd going, but ‘Walk Wid Me’ and the title track itself are moody and smokingly slow growlers that would sit nicely with a shot and a beer at a good blues bar.

Green and Willette grab their solo moments with skill, with Green in particular deserving mention; his famous single note playing is sharp and clear and his solos are melodically winning. Quite simply, both Green and Willette made incredibly strong records, and either mens work is, for the majority, a must have. Here alongside Donaldson at the top of his game they form a truly great band and the resulting album is simply an essential item for any fan of the three men or any lover of soul-jazz.

****

Review: Stanley Turrentine - Common Touch

Husband and wife team, tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine and organ maestro Shirley Scott, recorded some many good sessions together, although due to featuring on competing independent labels, mostly they did so through clever and subtle disguise – Turrentine appearing on Scott’s recordings as one ‘Stan Turner’, and Scott almost not bothering at all, with the pseudonym ‘Little Miss Cott’.

Regardless of the various such feats of subterfuge and daring, the music they made as a team was often among the best each recorded, Turrentine’s tenor in particular always well-suited to an organ backing. ‘Common Touch’ though is probably the lesser of their numerous collaborative works, the familiar easy-grooving of their usual partnership here just a little too easy and and a little too laid-back.

That’s not to say it’s a bad work in any way. The relaxed material and feel is raised and uplifted by the soulful playing of both, with Scott’s gospel-esque organ well to the fore. The featured guitar too gets some nice moments to shine also, thus stopping this from being an entirely husband-and-wife effort, but the rhythm team here doesn’t really get to do too much beyond standard horizontal fare.

Not essential Turrentine, the average jazzer will find the pacing too reclined and creative ideas light on the ground. And at times it does border dangerously close to creating the genre of lounge-jazz. But for anyone who likes the easy going grooves (it is after all part of Blue Note ‘Rare Groove’ series) and a more chilled listen to unwind and finger-snap to, then this is another pleasure from ‘The Sugar Man’ and his lady.

***

Review: Hank Mobley - The Flip

It seems bizarre now, when you think about it, that Hank Mobley was actually criticised for his lack of aggression in his saxophone playing. Where Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman were repeatedly making waves by pushing boundaries with such forceful tones and trailblazing techniques, others like Mobley were content playing mellower or more obviously soulful ideas. It was this that led to many dismissing him outright, despite his often highly melodic and very song-like quality tenor playing, rich with nuance and a strong feel for the tunes he played.

‘The Flip’ was recorded at the tail-end of the last phase of his career, his third to last recording, and second to last for Blue Note – his home since the mid-fities. A rare session made in Paris, his band here includes an international cast of Dizzy Reece on trumpet, Slide Hampton on trombone, Vince Benedetti on piano, Alby Cullaz on bass and the legendary Philly Joe Jones on drums, with all of the tunes here written by Mobley himself.

And as much as Mobleys latter-day work is routinely glossed-over with dismissal, the album begins joyously, with dancing, boogie-like rhythms and firm punchy horn statements, creating a euphoric groove that is nigh impossible to dislike. ‘Feelin’ Folksy’ is also a great winner with its strong bluesy swing and sweet melody powered by Mobleys typically easy sounding soulful tenor sax – here sounding much more robust than other recent dates.

Not that Mobley is the only horn success here, Hampton and Reece both get to flex and give this session a great defined personality, especially on the Brazillian flavoured ‘Snappin’ Out’, which allows both some killer solos. Joining Mobley on the pedestal of truly underrated talents though is Vince Benedetti; his piano lines subtle and tasteful, and always accompanying the bandleader a treat.

All in all, ‘The Flip’ is a late-era Mobley gem which should be held in the same esteem as his more famous peak ‘Soul Station’. In truth, although hindsight has served him better than any meagre successes of the day, both Mobley and this work will never sit in the hallowed influential or revered ranks, but on its own, without any unnecessary or unwelcome comparisons, it’s a classy and beautiful recording.

****

Review: Hank Mobley - Reach Out

‘Reach Out’, one of Hank Mobleys final ever sessions, is one of a number of records toward the end of the sixties that unfortunately highlights his depressing decline due to various circumstances, before his eventual and complete retirement. One of just a few times that Mobley would move away from hard bop, he instead here opts for a mainstream approach, both testing and saddling himself with gentle bop, soul-jazz and covers of contemporary pop songs. As such, it’s probably the most overtly commercial outing of all-time for Mobley and, not uncoincidentally, one of his worst.

The band, made up of players as strong as Woody Shaw, George Benson, Lamont Johnson, Bob Cranshaw and Billiy Higgins, all sound hemmed in (and even bored) by the sessions goal of appealing to the wider pop audience, and none of them are able to really make a distinctive personal stamp on the proceedings. The Four Tops ‘Reach Out (I’ll Be There)’, though a stone-cold classic, here is absolutely horrific and ranks as one of Mobleys worst ever, where no-one sounds sure what’s going on and everyone gives the impression of only just barely holding it together.

‘Goin’ Out Of My Head’ (covered by almost everyone at the time) is better, but largely sounds phoned in - as does pretty much everything else here. Mobley himself is also an oddly small presence here too, feeling more like an anonymous hired gun than a leader. He puts in a half-good heart-in-it performance just once, on one of his originals, but it’s doubtful anyone noticed it, sounding as it does completely forgettable.

Bland, inoffensive and tiring, it’s best avoided as it’d be hard to find anyone who would derive pleasure from listening to this.

*

Review: Grant Green - The Complete Quartets With Sonny Clark

Grant Green, one of the most recorded lead artists on the Blue Note rosters, died unexpectedly from a heart attack in 1979 at the age of just forty-three. At the time of his death, despite an impressive and impressively sized recording output, Green reportedly had more than some dozen sessions unreleased. Not shelved due to quality, but often simply because of the perceived lack of commercialism of certain projects, and also because his prolific time in the studio had simply generated a lot of music - an unbelievable twenty-two albums recorded between ’61 and ’64 as leader alone.

Of these apparently ‘less commercial’ works, Green had recorded three albums worth of material between ’61 and ‘62 with pianist Sonny Clark, star of the classic ‘Cool Struttin’’ among many others. Clark of course also died young, aged only thirty-one, in 1963, and yet these three sessions went unreleased, for almost twenty years, until just after Greens death.

A major mistake was made in keeping these hidden away for so long, as together the two men had clearly musically hit it off and made something far greater than just the sum of their two formidable parts. No horns of any kind here, just a line-up of guitar, piano, bass and drums form a relaxed and elegant style that shows the two at their most comfortable. Released finally in 1980, as the three sets ‘Nigeria’, ‘Gooden’s Corner’ and ‘Oleo’, here they are collected together as one superb two-disc set.

And simply, if you’ve ever liked anything either man has recorded, you should own this. A cool atmosphere pervades the recordings, while Greens riffs are silky smooth and played to perfection. Clark displays a wide range full of blues styles and plays in a nicely understated fashion. And joining them are Sam Jones on bass, and alternately Art Blakey and Louis Hayes on drums.

The material is, save three Green originals, largely made up of standards played to their peak, such as ‘On Green Dolphin Street’, ‘The Song Is You’, Sonny Rollins’ ‘Oleo’ and ‘Airegin’ and Cole Porters ‘What Is This Thing Called Love’. The originals too are excellent, but best of all is a take on ‘My Favourite Things’, of which oddly Green also recorded a different version for another great album that went for many years unreleased; ‘Matador’.

There’s simply nothing here to dislike, and the hugely likeable easy-going mood and playing are enhanced by the passion and soul that comes through it all. For such a collection of ‘unreleased material’, this is breathtakingly just some of Greens best work, and no Clark fan should be without them either. This is essential guitar-led jazz.

*****