The Atomic Mr. Basie.
Probably the grandest sounding jazz record I’ve listened to, Count Basie and his orchestra produce brilliantly composed ordered chaos that conjures images of guys and dames swing dancing in a crowded ballroom. Champagne is flowing for the privileged guests of the function, while the segregated members of the band smoke and play cards in the back waiting for their time to take to the stage. Each instrument of the eclectic orchestra is given their own time to make their mark on the album with solos aplenty. A terrific jazz record.
Blue Train.
The style, and quality, of jazz Coltrane exhibits on Blue Train foreshadows that that can be found on his 1960 album Giant Steps. The frenetic pace of the bass and drums set the tone for Coltrane’s saxophone improvisations, which cement his place as one of the best saxophonists, and jazz composers, of all time. “I’m Old Fashioned” is the exception from the rule, however, having not been written by Coltrane and having a more mellow, downtempo feel, that gives a welcome relief from an otherwise fast-as-a-steaming-locomotive record. Coltrane does it again, truly one of the greats.
Milestones.
The energetic start to Milestones on the opening track “Dr. Jackle” shakes you awake and ensures it has your undivided attention. The style of jazz Davis creates on this album is more stimulating than a pint of espresso with three tablespoons of cocaine stirred into it. Davis’ sextet, including John Coltrane and Cannonball Adderley on tenor and alto saxophone respectively, work so beautifully together, knowing when each should ease off and allow another to take centre stage, all the while pushing one other in a game of musical oneupmanship. Even for a relative jazz newbie such as myself, it’s clear that Milestones a masterpiece in the genre and I place it alongside Kind of Blue on the record shelf.
Les Gitans.
You’re walking through the early morning cobbled streets of Paris, passing men smoking their tenth cigarette of the day while their wives drink coffee and check their reflection in hand mirrors. Déjà vu. While, stylistically, there is little difference between Les Gitans and Dalida’s 1960 album Les Enfants du Pirée, it falls into the category of “s’il n’est pas cassé, ne le répare pas”. Dalida’s wonderful vocals against the big band backdrop create an enjoyable slice of the French music scene of the late 50s.
Somethin’ Else.
The wonderful thing about jazz is that it is so subjective. There are no words to convey the meaning behind the music, so the listener creates their own meaning. Listening to Cannonball Adderley’s Somethin’ Else, I felt I was being told the story of a desperate New York City detective. Wearing a fedora and beige knee-length coat, he walks through the rain lashed streets after a lead comes to nothing. Considering his next move, he stumbles into a gin bar where he meets a beautiful woman, whom he talks to for hours. The bar slowly empties as the patrons leave, the man and woman continue talking. They eventually withdraw to her apartment where he spends the night. The following evening he returns to the bar to find her, after being unable to do so he discovers the suspect he has been searching for sat alone at a table. After engaging in a verbal confrontation, the two trade punches before brawling in a dimly lit alleyway. The detective stands over the perp, his fists bloodied, reaching for his gun. As he contemplates whether to take the man’s life, his captain approaches. He’s off the case and as he walks away he considers the events of the past 24 hours. Somethin’ Else is something else.
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