The Advent of Jackie McLean: The Blue Note Years [From the Archives]

© -  Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“He patented a sound that was compounded equally of bebop and the new, free style. Raw and urgent, no one else sounds quite like him.”

- Richard Cook and Brian Morton, The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6th Ed.

“McLean's mix of plangency and something inscrutable is very striking.”

- Richard Cook, Jazz writer and critic

“...there aren't more than a handful of jazzmen who sound as passionately involved in their music.”

- Michael James, liner notes to Jackie McLean: Capuchin Swing

In a recent posting on the Texas Tenor Sound, I quoted the late Cannonball Adderley description of a key aspects of this blues-drenched, wide-open style of playing as a sound that had a “moan within a tone.”

Cannonball’s tonal characterization reminded me of the plaintive wail that I always associated with Jackie McLean’s alto saxophone sound, especially when I first encounter McLean's on the recordings he made for the Blue Note label in the 1950s and 1960s.

Richard Morton and Brian Cook in their Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD 6th Ed. offered this explanation of Jackie’s uniqueness:

“He patented a sound that was compounded equally of bebop and the new, free style. Raw and urgent, no one else sounds quite like him.”

Like Messrs. Morton and Cook,  I always thought that Jackie was “straining at the boundaries of the blues” as though he was always poised between “innovation and conservatism:” “an orthodox bebopper who was deeply influenced by the free Jazz movement.”

His playing could range between “complex, tricky and thoroughly engaging” to “diffident and defensive.”

Impassioned, fiery, full of brio, the sound of Jackie McLean during his Blue Note years was, to my ears, the personification of what was referred to at the time as “East Coast Jazz.”

The editorial staff at JazzProfiles thought it might be fun to recount some of the highlights of Jackie tenure with Blue Note on these pages with some selected excerpts from Richard Cook's history of Blue Note Records.

© -  Richard Cook, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“Of all the new signings, the most important individual was Jackie McLean, an alto saxophonist from - a local man at last! - New York, who had been on the city's scene since the beginning of the fifties. McLean had had a difficult few years. Despite several high-profile stints with other leaders - including Miles Davis, Art Blakey and Charles Mingus - McLean had made no real headway as a leader himself. His records for Prestige were mostly spotty, unconvincing affairs (he later rounded on the company, comparing working for them to 'being under the Nazi regime and not knowing it'), and trouble with the police over his use of narcotics had led to the dreaded loss of his cabaret card, the same problem which had afflicted Monk's progress. Yet, in 1959, he signed up with Lion and also began working with the cooperative Living Theatre, a freewheeling stage group which staged various 'events' from poetry to performance art, culminating in the production of a play by Jack Gelber, The Connection, which dramatised aspects of the jazzman's life.

McLean's first Blue Note as leader was New Soil (BLP 4013), made on 2 May 1959 (material from an earlier session was subsequently released out of sequence).

Although pitched as a typical hard-bop quintet session (with Donald Byrd, Walter Davis, Paul Chambers and Pete La Roca), the music might have puzzled the unwary. McLean brought two pieces to the date, 'Hip Strut' and 'Minor Apprehension' (often better remembered as 'Minor March', which was the title used by Miles Davis in his recording of the tune). 'Apprehension' is a useful word to describe the music. Although 'Hip Strut's structure eventually breaks out into a walking blues, its most striking motif is the suspension on a single, tolling chord, over which the soloists sound ominously trapped. In this one, McLean suggests the patient, rather effortful manner of one of his acknowledged influences, Dexter Gordon, but in the following 'Minor Apprehension' he sounds like the godson of Charlie Parker, tearing through the changes with the scalded desperation of the bebopper locked in a harmonic maze. The rest of the record, dependent on several Walter Davis tunes, is less impressive, but McLean's mix of plangency and something inscrutable is very striking.

Not always, though, particularly likeable. McLean is a player whose music has often aroused admiration over warmth. The sense that he is always playing slightly out of tune lends an insistent sourness to the tonality of his music, and it is the recurring problem within a diverse and often fascinating discography for the label. His fellow alto saxophonist Lee Konitz, who has also been accused of playing sharp, remembers a session with himself, McLean, Dexter Gordon and Ben Webster: 'After the session I shook Jackie's hand, thinking how nice it was to play with him, and then it occurred to me I was thanking him for playing sharp!'

Swing Swang Swingin' (BLP 4024) gave McLean the limelight as the sole horn, with Walter Bishop, Jimmy Garrison and Art Taylor behind him. This session tends to restore the emphasis on McLean's bebop origins, with big, powerful improvisations such as those on 'Stablemates' and let's Face The Music And Dance' - a standard which very few jazz players have chosen to cover - suggesting that he still had a lot of juice to squeeze out of his bop sensibilities. But McLean began to change, in part, perhaps, because of his experiences with the Living Theatre, and his Blue Note albums would come to document a personality with a high degree of artistic curiosity. …

Jackie McLean might have shared a similar fate [to that of pianist Sonny Clarke who died from complications of heroin addiction], but his stint with the Living Theatre had stabilised his professional life and he eventually overcame his addiction. McLean's Blue Notes are a sometimes problematical lot and the string of dates he made for the label in the sixties continue an intriguing if often difficult sequence. Capuchin Swing, made on 16 April 1960, is a sometimes rowdy affair which shows up how awkward it could be to accommodate McLean even within a group of his own leadership. His solos on 'Francisco' (named for Frank Wolff) and 'Condition Blue' make a glaring contrast to those of his bandmates. The tension in McLean's records from this period lies in a sometimes aggravating contrast between himself and his fellow horn players in particular. Michael James is quoted on the sleeve note to Capuchin Swing to the effect that 'there aren't more than a handful of jazzmen ... who sound as passionately involved in their music', but McLean's passion often seems to have more to do with being outside, rather than being involved. Mclean himself later said: 'A lot of my performances have been very emotional because I wasn't putting any work into it.' Bluesnik, recorded the following January, has some of the same intensity, though apparently under more control: in what is actually a rather dull programme of blues pieces (the title track must have taken all of five minutes to 'compose'), the saxophonist's fast, biting solos shred the skilful and comparatively genial playing of Freddie Hubbard.

A Fickle Sonance, recorded the following October, assembled the same band which would record Leapin' And Lopin', with McLean in for Charlie Rouse. It is, again, the trouble-making McLean who makes all the difference: where Clark's session would be elegant and composed, this one seems taut and angular. 'Five Will Get You Ten', once credited to Clark but now thought to be an otherwise unclaimed Monk tune, and the chilling title piece, where the alto leaps and twists against a modal backdrop, are strange, rootless settings for playing which can seem by turns anguished, stark and sneering. McLean's next record, Let Freedom Ring, would make a more explicit pact with matters removed from his bebop history. ...

Jackie McLean had become as much a Blue Note regular as Hank Mobley (by the end of his tenure with the original company, he had played on nearly fifty sessions), but he was one hard-bopper who had begun to question his own ground. For the sleeve of his 1962 Let Freedom Ring album, McLean asked to write his own notes: Jazz is going through a big change, and the listener or the fan, or what have you, should listen with an open mind. They should use a mental telescope to bring into view the explorers who have taken one step beyond, explorers such as Monk, Coltrane, Mingus, Cecil Taylor, Kenny Dorham, Sonny Rollins, Miles Davis, Ornette and, of course, Duke Ellington.'

McLean doesn't choose to be very specific about how he feels his own music is changing, other than expressing a general dissatisfaction with chord-based improvising, but earlier in the essay he does say: 'Ornette Coleman has made me stop and think. He has stood up under much criticism, yet he never gives up his cause, freedom of expression. The search is on.'

What was this search? Perhaps McLean himself was not so sure, since most of Let Freedom Ring is a frequently awkward truce between his bebop roots and the new freedoms which Coleman had been putting on display in his music. But Coleman, too, had a debt to Charlie Parker and to blues playing. Why does

McLean sound, in comparison, to be struggling with his 'freedom'? It may be that he is, in effect, trying too hard. Listening to Coleman's music of the same period, one is constantly taken aback by how unselfconscious the playing is, as if the musicians in Coleman's famous quartet were free-at-last. McLean takes a much sterner route: if his earlier records sounded intense, this one is practically boiling. He seems unsure as to how best to use his tone, whether it should be flattened or made even sharper than normal, and there is both overblowing in the high register and a deliberate emphasis on oboe-like low notes. His three originals are open-ended and exploratory, but the one ballad, Bud Powell's Til Keep Loving You', is a distinct contrast, with the saxophonist playing it in a way which sounds in this setting weirdly direct and unadorned. Although the pianist, Walter Davis, was a near contemporary of McLean's, the other players were young men: bassist Herbie Lewis and drummer Billy Higgins.

McLean's decision was not so much a conversion as a progression. Many of his generation had been scathing about Coleman's new music, while at the same time being uneasily aware that the Texan saxophonist was on to something. No experienced musician who heard the music of Coleman's first Atlantic recordings of 1959 could have been under the impression that the guiding hand was some kind of charlatan, even if they didn't agree with his methods or his way of expressing himself. At this distance, it seems odd that Coleman's music could even have excited so much controversy: not only does it sound light, folksy and songful, its accessibility follows a clear path down from bebop roots (a point best expressed in Coleman's first two recordings for Contemporary, with 'conventional' West Coast rhythm sections. The music there gives drummer Shelly Manne no rhythmical problems at all, but the two bassists involved, Percy Heath and Red Mitchell, both later remembered asking the leader about harmonic points which Ornette more or less waved aside).

In 1963, McLean built on the work of Let Freedom Ring by forming a new and regular band, with players who could accommodate what he saw as his new direction. Three of them were individuals who would have their own Blue Note engagements soon enough: vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson, trombonist Grachan Moncur and drummer Tony Williams. All three featured alongside McLean on his next released session, One Step Beyond (although three other sessions which took place in between were shelved by Lion at the time). What is awkward about One Step Beyond - and the subsequent Destination ... Out! - is that McLean is the one who sounds like the backward player. Just as Miles Davis found himself initially perplexed by Williams (who joined the Davis band in 1964), so did McLean struggle with the language of his younger sidemen. …”

To give you an opportunity to listen Jackie’s playing from The Blue Note years, the following video tribute features him on Walter Davis Jr.’s Greasy from McLean’s New Soil LP with Donald Byrd on trumpet, Walter on piano, Paul Chambers on bass and Pete La Roca on drums.

Wynton Kelly: 1931-1971 - Revisiting “A Pure Spirit” [From the Archives]

 © -Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“Wynton’s situation … is worth noting as a startling example of the strange irrelevance of merit to fame in Jazz.”

- Orrin Keepnews, Jazz Producer and Writer

“Nothing about his playing seems calculated .. there was just pure joy shining through his conception.”

Bill Evans, Jazz Pianist

Amazingly, given his background, Wynton Kelly is an often overlooked figure in modern Jazz circles.

One would think that a pianist who had worked with Lester Young, Charles Mingus, Dizzy Gillespie’s 1950s big band, Dinah Washington, Miles Davis and Wes Montgomery, let alone with his own trio made-up of Paul Chambers on bass and Jimmy Cobb on drums, would be more widely known and respected.

But such is not the case for Kelly who is sometimes more acknowledged because he has a first name in common with the phenomenal trumpet player and leader of the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra – Wynton Marsalis – whose father, Jazz pianist Ellis Marsalis, named him after Kelly.

The editorial staff thought it might be fun to spend some time developing a JazzProfiles feature about Wynton, Kelly that is, as a way of paying tribute to his memory.

In the liner notes that he wrote for Kelly at Midnight, one of the earliest album’s that Wynton made under his own name [VeeJay VJ-03], Nat Hentoff commented:

“Miles Davis was being asked one afternoon for a verbal analysis of Wynton Kelly's musical worth. Miles character­istically scoffed at using such imprecise tools as words to describe what happens in jazz; but finally he said: ‘Wynton's the light for a cigarette. He lights the fire and he keeps it going. Without him there's no smoking.’

Another judicious tribute came from Cannonball Adderley who had worked with Wynton in the Miles Davis band. ‘He's a fine soloist, who does both the subdued things and the swingers very well. Wynton is also the world's great­est accompanist for a soloist. He plays with the soloist all the time, with the chords you choose. He even anticipates your direction.’

Somewhat earlier, I'd been talking to King Curtis, a Texan now in New York and a specialist in rhythm and blues. ‘Wynton worked with me for a while, and naturally I've heard him with Dinah and with Miles. What struck me was that wherever Wynton worked, he fitted in. He's not limited to one kind of playing. With Dinah, he had the taste and supportive power of a superior accompanist. With me, he had the fire and the straightaway swinging my bands have to have. And with Miles, he can be as subtle as Miles requires.’

As is usually the case, Wynton was being discussed enthusiastically by musicians before there was much atten­tion paid him in the public prints. …”

And in another of Wynton’s VeeJay LP’s, Kelly Great [VeeJay VJ-06], Julian “Cannonball” Adderley, the great alto saxophonist and, as noted previously, Wynton’s bandmate in the Davis group, said this about Kelly:

“When Sid McCoy of VeeJay Records asked Frank Strozier (phenomenal young alto saxophonist) who did he wish to play piano on his VeeJay record date, Frank immediately said Wynton Kelly. So answered Bill Henderson and Paul Chambers. It is next to impossible to evaluate the role played by Wynton Kelly in a band, for he has a ‘take charge’ quality in a rhythm section such as a Phil Rizzuto or Eddie Stanky had on a baseball team.

Many jazz listeners are unaware that such intangible qualities as fire and spirit make the margin between greatness and ‘just good’. Leading jazz musicians, such as Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis (Wynton's current employer), are cognizant of this fact. A short time ago Miles Davis made an album using another pianist, who at that time was a member of his band, but added Wynton for one selection, explaining, ‘Wynton Kelly is the only pianist who could make that tune get off the ground.’

What does Wynton have that is so different?”

Perhaps the difference lies in what Richard Cook and Brian Morton have described in The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.  as “… his lyrical simplicity or uncomplicated touch… [or] the dynamic bounce to his chording …,” or because, as Cannonball Adderley, asserted: “Wynton combined the strength of pianists Red Garland and Bill Evans, his predecessors with Miles Davis.”

Or maybe this difference lies in the following description of Wynton’s playing by fellow pianist Bill Evans as quoted in Jack Chambers, Milestones:

“When I first him in Dizzy’s big band [in the mid-1950s], his whole thing was so joyful and exuberant, nothing about it seemed calculated. And yet with the clarity of the way he played, you knew that he had put this together in a carefully planned way – but the result was completely without calculation, there was just pure spirit shining through the conception.”

Like Bill, Brian Priestley may have also identified the essence of what made Wynton Kelly so unique as a pianist in the following description of his style in Jazz, The Rough Guide: An Essential Companion to Artists and Albums:

“An important stylist, but largely unrecognized except by fellow pianists, Kelly’s mature style was hinted at in his earliest recordings. He combined boppish lines and blues interpolations with a taut sense of timing quite unlike anyone else except his imitators. The same quality made his equally individual block chording into a particularly dynamic and driving accompanying style that was savored by the many soloists that he backed.”

More about Kelly’s special qualities as a pianist can be found in the following paraphrase from Peter Pettinger’s biography of pianist Bill Evans – How My Heart Sings:

“Evans held Kelly’s bright and sparkling style in high regard since hearing him in Dizzy Gillespie’s big band, responding to Wynton’s particular blend of clarity and exuberance. This reaction was typical of Evans’s appreciation of the work of his fellow pianists; from Oscar Peterson to Cecil Taylor, he was full of admiration for their diverse talents and generous in his praise.”

As detailed in Groovin’ High,  Alyn Shipton’s life of trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie, the unique character of Kelly’s piano style may have been the result of combining years of experience in playing in rhythm and blues bands with a fine Jazz sensibility.

Of his work with his own trio, John A. Tynan had this to say in a Down Beat review:

“It is one of the most cohesive and inventive rhythmic groups in small-band Jazz today.”

Musicians commenting about Wynton’s work on their recordings state: “The presence of Kelly may account for the difference …,” “… the album would not have been excellent without Wynton Kelly’s sterling support,” and “… he is disarmingly pleasant to work with, the very model of a mainstream pianist.”

The Jazz writer and critic, Barbara J. Gardiner closed her insert notes to the 1961 VeeJay 2-CD compilation Wynton Kelly! [VeeJazz-011] with the declaration that “You would expect Wynton Kelly to be comprehensive as well as creative. Hasn’t he always been?”

Although she was referring to the material on these CDs “… tried and proven, mixed in with a bit of the fresh …,” this could also serve as an apt way of describing Wynton’s approach to Jazz piano: wide-ranging and inventive.

One is never far away from the Jazz tradition when listening to Wynton Kelly, but what he plays is himself; he has incorporated his influences into his own musical “personality” and recognizably so. Four [4] bars and you know its him.

Wynton is not a pianist who overwhelms the listener with startling technique or originality of conception.

But what he does offer is playing that is full of joy, funk and a feeling for time that fills the heart with happiness, sets the feet tapping and get the fingers popping the beat.

Wynton Kelly is the pianistic personification of swing, or if you prefer: “smokin’,” “cookin’” or “boppin’.” 

When Wynton plays Jazz piano, you feel it.

Nothing cerebral here in any deep or complicated sense, just – “Clap hands, here comes, Wynton.”

Hear it for yourself in the following tribute to Wynton that features him along with Paul Chambers on bass and Philly Joe Jones. The tune is Winston's original Temperance from Kelly at Midnight [VeeJay-03] .

Mr. P.C. - Paul Chambers

© -  Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

Over the years, it seems to me that so much attention has been paid to Jimmy Blanton, Oscar Pettiford, Ray Brown, Charles Mingus, and Scott LaFaro for altering the Jazz bass landscape that Paul Chambers’ contributions in this regard have often been overlooked.

Perhaps this is in part due to the fact that although Paul appeared on countless modern Jazz recordings from the mid-1950’s until his death in 1969, many of them of the highest significance as trend setters or statement makers in the music, he didn’t record that much or that often as a leader

Most of what he did record under his own name was issued between 1956 and 1960, during Paul’s 9 year tenure with Miles Davis [1955-1963], and while all of them are deserving of greater attention, I thought I’d highlight four to provide a basis for this blog feature.

Each of the four recordings is complimented by excellent insert notes which reveal a great deal about Paul’s background and the musicians and music who feature on these LPs.

Let’s start with Leonard Feather’s always masterful and well-written annotations to Whims of Chambers: Paul Chamber Sextet [Blue Note 37647; CDP 7243 8 37647 2 3] which was recorded on September 21, 1956.

Given his background, I especially enjoy it when Leonard breaks down what’s going on in the music in terms of song structure, keys, chord progressions, meters, et al.

“WHO shall silence all the airs and madrigals that whisper softness in chambers?”

—John Milton

Unless Milton was uncannily prescient when he quilled the above line it is unlikely that he was referring specifically to Paul Chambers. Nor were the airs and madrigals he had in mind as complex or as stimulating as Whims of Chambers or Tale of the Fingers. But Milton's question seems opposite, for on these sides we find not only softness and subtlety in Chambers but also a strong, virile instrumental voice that cannot and shall not be silenced; a sound that must and will command attention during the coming years wherever jazz is heard.

The role of the jazz bass player was largely a metronomic assignment until, in 1939, Jimmy Blanton's flight through time and space, when he alighted in the Duke Ellington airport, transformed the entire scene. Since that time scores of talented men have put hundreds of fingers to work proving that Blanton was right; that the bass is capable of melodic invention and rhythmic variety unknown before his day.

Oscar Pettiford is the man generally assumed to have inherited the Blanton mantle, though Ray Brown, Red Mitchell, Percy Heath and a few more have exhibited formidable prowess and extraordinary heights of inspiration. And now, to join the handful of giants of whom one can speak in the same breath as these few, the inner jazz circle has welcomed Paul Laurence Dunbar Chambers Jr.

Among other achievements Chambers can claim to be the first jazzman to earn dual renown as an arco and pizzicato bass soloist. Born in Pittsburgh April 22, 1935, he entered music through a windy side entrance when he and several schoolmates were fingered to take up music and the baritone horn became his assignment. Later he took up the tuba. "I got along pretty well, but it's quite a job to carry it around in those long parades, and I didn't like the instrument that much." [Besides, you can't bow a tuba.) So Paul became a string bassist, around 1949 in Detroit, where he had been living for a while since the death of his mother.

Playing his first gig at one of the little bars in the Hastings Street area, he was soon doing club jobs with Thad Jones, Barry Harris and others who have since effected the Detroit-New York junction. His formal bass training got going in earnest in 1952, when he began taking lessons with a bassist in the Detroit Symphony. Paul did some "classical" work himself, with a group called the Detroit String Band that was, in effect, a rehearsal symphony orchestra. Studying at Cass Tech, off and on from 1952 to '55, he played in Cass' own symphony, and in various other student groups, one of which had him blowing baritone sax. By the time he left for New York at the invitation of [tenor saxophonist] Paul Quinichette, he had absorbed a working knowledge of several armfuls of instruments.

The Quinichette job was Paul's first time on the road. Since then he has worked with Benny Green's combo; at the Bohemia in New York with George Wellington's quintet; at the Embers and Birdland with Joe Roland; and on several jobs with the since-split trombone twins, JJ. Johnson and Kai Winding. For the past 18 months most of his working hours have been devoted to the furnishing of a solid understructure for Miles Davis, and it was with the help of two colleagues from Miles' combo (John Coltrane and Philly Joe Jones) that the present LP gained much of its power and conviction.

Paul was about 15 when he started to listen to Bird and Bud, his first jazz influences. Oscar Pettiford and Ray Brown, the first bassists he admired, were followed in his book by Percy Heath, Milton Hinton and Wendell Marshall for their rhythm section work,Charles Mingus and George Duvivier for their technical powers and for their efforts in broadening the scope of jazz bass. Blanton, of course, is his all-time favorite, the perennial poll winner in his ballot.

Speaking of polls, a review of the last Down Beat critics' referendum shows that Paul won in the New Star bassist category by a comfortable margin with 85 points. (This means that 8 1/2 critics voted for him — one critic, initials L.F., betrayed a split personality.) And now, with that honor in the bag, Paul has something new to crow about: his first Blue Note LP as a leader.

Donald Byrd, whose horn plays a meaty role in the sextet, is a 24-year-old Detroiter who, like Paul, studied at Cass Tech. and worked in the Wallington Quintet; for a while he was a Messenger in Art Blakey's service.

John Coltrane, a native of Hamlet, N.C., is 30, was raised in Philadelphia and has a background of assignments in rhythm and blues groups, Earl Bostic, Eddie Vinson, as well as with the jazz outfits of Johnny Hodges, Gillespie, Miles.

Paul's partners in the rhythm team include Horace Silver, Blue Note's adopted son; Kenny Burrell, another Detroiter and recent addition to the Blue Note family (his own LP is 1523), and the indomitable Philadelphia Joseph Jones, Blue Note alumnus of dates with Elmo Hope, Lou Donaldson et. al.

Omicron, named by Donald Byrd for a Greek letter but framed along modern American lines with a Woody 'n You chassis, has a fascinating introduction and coda written in 6/8 as well as solo expenses by Silver, Burrell and the horns, and some estimable Chambers pizzicato. Whims of Chambers is a charming blues played by Paul and Kenny in octave unison, dedicated to the rhythm section, of which all four members acquit themselves superbly on the solo passages. Coltrane's Nita has an interesting pattern; at the 23rd measure of each chorus it goes into six bars of suspended rhythm followed by a two-bar break. When the unison horns take over after the drum solo you may, on first hearing, wonder how they knew when to come in; which only proves that Philly Joe cannot be fully dug at one hearing.

We Six has Coltrane showing his big, bulging tone on a minor Byrd theme. Coltrane is the living reminder of the existence of more than one way to get a big sound on tenor, for at no time, in tone or in style, could he be mistaken for a disciple of the Coleman Hawkins school. Paul has one of his amazingly fluent bowed solos here, after which Kenny and Horace both get in a good smooth groove.

Dear Ann, after a pretty chord-style guitar intro, shows Byrd in the medium-slow theme, named for Mrs. Chambers (Paul, married four years, has produced Eric, 3 and Renee, 2 and expects the former to start climbing up the bass any day now for his first solo chorus.) Dear Ann shows the Chambers pizzicato at its most agile and fertile.

Tale of the Fingers is our favorite track, if we may be personal. Based on the Strike Up the Band chord sequence, it opens with four choruses of bowed bass, and never before have there been 128 measures even remotely like this. Horace is in there wailing too, and later Philly Joe trades some fours with "The Bow" before Paul takes over solo for the finale, but frankly, it is difficult to recall anything that happens after those first choruses, because anything that followed them would necessarily have been anticlimactic. I would call Chambers a gas, except that it is depressing to think about gas chambers; so perhaps a bolder word may be permitted. Chambers, as his fellow-musicians have been saying ever since they heard his very first solo, is a bitch.

Just for the Love, a Coltrane line, is built in 12-bar sequences but uses changes somewhat removed from the conventional blues routine. Tenor, piano, trumpet, guitar, pizzicato bass and drums (i.e. the entire sextet) can be heard individually in that order.

It may not be long before Pittsburgh and Detroit start a fight about which city can claim Paul Chambers as a hometown boy. He's a valuable enough man on anyone's team to generate just such a squabble and these sides. I'm sure you'll agree, offer the most eloquent evidence to date.”

—Leonard Feather

Earlier in 1956, Paul had been on The Left Coast and recorded one of the dozen LPs ever issued on Herbert Kimmel’s Jazz West label. Entitled Chambers Music [JWLP: 7], here are Herb’s notes to that session. It’s particularly great fun to read about his reference to “Philadelphia Joe Jones” more commonly known as Philly Joe Jones or even Philly JJ.

CHAMBERS' MUSIC  [JAZZ WEST JWLP: 7]

A JAZZ DELEGATION FROM THE EAST

PAUL CHAMBERS, bass; PHILADELPHIA JOE JONES, drums JOHN COLTRANE, tenor saw; KENNY DREW, piano

“When he was a teenager in Detroit, Paul Chambers was called "Stringbean" by his friends. Paul didn't tell me this himself, it came out by accident in a conversation which took place between sets at San Francisco's Blackhawk when one of Chambers' Detroit pals dropped in to chat about old times. Of course, if you're only twenty years old like Paul, "old times" means a few years ago. Each year is like a century, considering all the activity it spans.

The "stringbean" appellation seems to fit him even now. Where other bass plays have to peek around the sides of their giant fiddles to be seen, Paul finds it easier to look down over the top. His height undoubtedly is an asset for a musician who plays so large an instrument. This is especially noticeable when Paul plays a solo with his bow, holding it as easily as a toothpick and wielding it as delicately as a rapier. This ability to bow convincing jazz is what really distinguishes Paul Chambers from the rest of the field of plucking bass players. While the ability to play pizzicato bass swingingly is not to be sneezed at, the added attraction of a solo which offers the listener an opportunity to hear appropriately placed legato notes and figures along with the clipped ones makes Chambers' work an absolute must for jazz fans.

Paul's background is already well known. He placed sixteenth in Down Beat's poll last year (1955). He has worked with Paul Quinichette's group in several cities (including a stop at New York's Birdland); also, he has worked with Benny Green and Sonny Stitt. His most recent job — which brought him to the west coast — is with the Miles Davis Quintet.

Philadelphia Joe Jones:

There is unanimous agreement among Los Angeles jazz citizens that Joe Jones is the best jazz drummer to visit this city since Max Roach was here last year. Since his first appearance with Tadd Dameron at the Royal Roost in New York (in the jazz-history-making year of 1946), he has worked with many of the great stars of the past ten years: Ben Webster, Kai Winding, J.J., Sonny Stitt, and, most recently, Miles Davis. His role in the Davis band is that of swinging anchor for Miles' wandering horn; the competence with which he performs this role in more than slightly responsible for Miles' recent resurgence.

John Coltrane:

“Train" first played big-time jazz with Dizzy Gillespie in 1950. Since then he has worked with several New York and Philadelphia groups; his tenor saxophone currently blends into Miles Davis' Quintet. His work in the Davis group is noteworthy for the many driving solos he contributes and for his ability to obtain a faraway, whispery sound at times, complementing the detachment of Miles' horn very effectively.

Kenny Drew:

Kenny's most recent album on jazz:west (JWLP-4) with [alto saxophonist] Joe Maini is the fourth LP under the Drew name. Also, his quintet and arrangements can be heard supporting the vocals of Jane Fielding in another jazz:west album (JWLP-5). Before these recent efforts Kenny worked with Buddy DeFranco, Dexter Gordon, Benny Carter, Sonny Criss, the late Wardell Gray, and other West Coast stars. Currently, he is traveling with Dinah Washington's jazz troupe.”

— Herbert Kimmel

This music was recorded in March of 1956 at Western Recorders in Hollywood. Don Blake was the engineer. In order to pick up the complete range of Paul Chambers' bass, two microphones were employed for that instrument alone. One was attached to the tail-piece of the instrument, while the other was placed immediately in front of the sound holes. The following tunes were recorded:

TRACK:

1.  DEXTERITY {Charlie Parker)                                              6:45

2.  STABLEMATES (Benny Golson)                                          5:53

3.  EASY TO LOVE (Cole Porter)                                             3:52

4.  VISITATION (Paul Chambers)                                            4:54

5. JOHN PAUL JONES (John Coltrane)                                 6:54

6.  EASTBOUND (Kenny Drew)                                                4:21

Photographs taken at the recording session by William Claxton. The entire production of this album was supervised by Herbert Kimmel.

JAZZ: WEST Records, 535Z West Pico Boulevard, Los Angeles 19, California

Copyright 1956 by Jazz: West Records

A few years after this native Detroiter recorded in New York and Los Angeles, respectively, he made his next two recordings in Chicago for the VeeJay, a Chicago-based label that was important because it gave a number of young musicians a platform to record their music before they went on to greater fame and fortune including Paul, Lee Morgan, and Wayne Shorter. It also supported the locally based Jazz groups like the MJ2+3 [headed up by drummer Walter Perkins and pianist Harold Maybern], [alto saxophonist] Frank Strozier and [pianists] Ramsey Lewis and Eddie Higgins.

Fortunately these VeeJay recordings.COMPILED & REISSUED ON CD BY JORDI PUJOL (FRESH SOUND RECORDS)

1st Bassman, as the VJ-004 catalogue number implies  was one of the earliest issues for the label and its features Paul along with a terrific line-up of Tommy Turrentine on trumpet, Curtis Fuller on trombone, Yusef Lateef on tenor sax with Wynton Kelly on piano and Lex Humphries on drums rounding out the rhythm section. The six tracks that comprise the album are all original compositions by Yusef.

The notes are by Barbara Gardner a Chicago-based writer just making her mark with contributions to Downbeat at this time.

“Every Chamber of Commerce in America believes it has something to crow about in its city. Pittsburgh has steel, Milwaukee has beer. Grinders Switch has Minnie Pearl and Detroit shouts about its cars. Yet Detroit, each year pours into the mainstream of American culture an unsung export - the emerging, revitalizing jazz musician. The flow is steady, reliable and unpretentious and Detroit accepts it as a common, secondary product. Yet, there has been nothing either common or secondary about the national and world acceptance of Detroit's jazzmen and their contribution towards keeping jazz a forward-moving, progressive art form. In 1959 and early 1960 most of the leading big bands and combos had at least one Detro-ite in the ranks. Count Basie, Miles Davis, the Modern Jazz Quartet, the Jazztet and the Adderley Quintet, to name a few, all owed a debt to Detroit.

The entire musically prolific Jones family is a Detroit contribution. Brothers pianist Hank, drummer Elvin, and trumpeter Thad are among the jazzmen most in demand. Bernard McKinney, trombonist; tenor man Yusef Lateef; trombonist Curtis Fuller; young trumpeter Donald Byrd; the Adderley pianist Barry Harris; Alvin Jackson and his brother, vibes player, Milt - all these active musicians are products from the jazz assembly line in the Motor City.

And then there is Paul Chambers. Had Detroit nothing more to its credit than the musical spawning and nursing of Chambers, then the contribution would have been a worthy one.

"The bass has been buried in the rhythm section of jazz groups too long. It is high time someone devoted his career to the great melodic and emotional potential of this instrument." These words must have been uttered by the often-quoted Mr. Somebody Sometimes and he might just as well have directed his wish to Paul Chambers, for in 1954, Chambers picked up this specific challenge and since that time, the jazz bass instrument has never been the same.

As a solid, rock-rooted swinger, Paul Chambers is unquestionably to be regarded in awe and wonder. He is Foundation Personified in the rhythm section; keeper of the beat; coordinator of the pulsating background to which the soloists vibrate.

As a soloist, he is imaginative and adventurous. Never satisfied to merely "walk" and "stroll" (commendable attributes when well executed) Chambers urges his bass to skip and gallop unafraid on foreign soil.

It is to be expected that Chambers should record an album of original tunes. The moods, effects and interpretations are interesting and varied. This album contains elements of departure and experimentation. Yet there is enough of the familiar swinger still remaining.

If you have ever wondered what Paul Chambers would do if he were free to choose his men and his tunes, you have your first answer here.”

— BARBARA J  GARDNER

Paul Chambers - GO! [VeeJay VJ-017]COMPILED & REISSUED on CD BY JORDI PUJOL (FRESH SOUND RECORDS) is graced with the following notes by Dick Martin, Station WWL, New Orleans

"The most talented new bassist to enter the jazz scene in recent years." That is the opinion of critics and jazz men alike - and offered by the time Paul Chambers was barely twenty-one. Born Paul Laddwrence Dunbar Chambers, Jr. in Pittsburgh, in 1935, he started his professional career when only fourteen, playing baritone horn and tuba around Detroit with Kenny Burrell and other combos

He left Detroit with "The Vice-Prez" - Paul Quinichette, and worked with him for about eight months. Subsequently, in 1955, he was heard with the combos of Benny Green, Joe Roland, J J Johnson and Kai Winding, George Wellington, and Miles Davis - with whom he played through most of 1956. His favorite bassists are ex-Ellingtonian the late Jimmy Blanton and cellist-bassist Oscar Pettiford.

AJto saxophonist Julian "Cannonball" Adderley is also proficient on tenor, clarinet, flute and trumpet. Such versatility between reed and brass instruments, though not too common, lies in the fact that he studied brass and reed instruments in high school in Tallahassee from 1944 to 1948... at which time he formed his first jazz group. Upon graduation he become band director at Dillard High School in Ft. lauderdale. During this time (from 1948-1950) he also had his own jazz group in south Florida. He become leader of the 36th Army Dance Band while serving in the Army from 1950-'52; led another Army band at Ft. Knox from '52-'53. "Cannonball" first attracted attention in the musical "pro" circuit when he sat in with Oscar Pettiford at Cafe Bohemia in New York City in the summer of 1955; and almost immediately was signed by one of the major jazz labels. In the spring of '56 he and his brother Nat started touring with their own combo.

The nickname "Cannonball" evolved from "Cannibal" a name given him by high school colleagues in tribute to his vast eating capacity. His favorite alto-saxophonists ore the late Charlie Parker and Benny Carter so it's not surprising that he sounds much like the former on up-tempo numbers and like Carter on ballads. With his advent on the professional scene he was considered the outstanding new alto saxophonist by musicians and critics alike; and since then has gleaned a following that is legion.

On the four selections in which trumpet was used the nod went to Freddie Hubbard a young man from Indianapolis, Indiana who is currently working with Sonny Rollins... and who, for the past few months, has enjoyed the acceptance of John Coltrane as well.

Pianist Wynton Kelly was brought to this country from his native Jamaica at the age of four He was playing professionally when only eleven; and when he was fifteen went on a Caribbean lour with the Ray Abrams Octet. He worked mostly in the rhythm and blues field for the next few years; and was accompanist to Dinah Washington for three years. He was a member of the Dizzy Gillespie combo when only twenty-one years old. His musical versatility is demonstrated by the fact that he not only plays mostly modern piano, but has also played organ for Sunday mass in his church in Brooklyn.

The talented "Philly Joe" Jones is the drummer on "Awful Mean"; the balance of the drumming chores fell to Jimmy Cobb who has also worked with Dinah Washington, Cannonball's old group, and with Miles Davis.

In "AWFUL MEAN" Philly Joe's ominous drum roll brings on the four-man firing squad for this moderate-tempoed blues, the pace for which is set by Chambers' bass. The melody, as laid down by "Cannonball" in the first chorus, hits the musical mark with the devastation of Birdshot. The mood is funky; and solos by Wynton Kelly, then Adderley, are followed by the leader's 'coup de grace', using a bow rather than the traditional 45 just to make sure, Philly Joe adds some tasty sharpshooting of his own.

After a unison first chorus on the old favorite "JUST FRIENDS", Hubbard, Kelly, Adderley and Chambers solo in that order for two choruses apiece. Paul's agility in bowing on this up-tempo swinger is remarkable; and Jimmy Cobb drives and punctuates well throughout One has the feeling that here are close "aficionados," rather than "just friends"...

"JULIE ANN" (named for a daughter in the Adderley household, perhaps?] is a fast waltz, but often with a cross-rhythm 4/4 feel to it. Paul is pizzicato on this one, soloing first followed by Freddie and the composer in turn. It's a pretty melody which everyone apparently enjoyed playing as evidenced by a fade at the end, rather than a definite close-out.

"THERE IS NO GREATER LOVE" finds the quartet in a relaxed mood and at a moderate tempo; and if you have eyes to dance about now, this is your meat. Paul walks his bass with authority.

Despite the boppish syncopation reminiscent of the late '40s of the first and ride-out choruses, the blend of Hubbard's muted trumpet and Cannonball's alto in lower register than when he is soloing brings to mind the precision and sound of another group under the aegis of a stellar bass man of twenty years or so ago, John Kirby. The phrasing of Charlie Shavers and Russell Procope in the Kirby group was less abrupt, of course, but the sound and attack were most similar to what we hear in Paul's composition, "EASE IT."

Gershwin's 1930 hit "I GOT RHYTHM" (from the show "Girl Crazy'} is a flag-waving finale with a pace that brings to bear on the dexterity and fluid drive of all concerned. Jimmy Cobb boots things along and solos more extensively than heretofore.”

"Moon Glow with Martin", Dick Martin, Station WWL, New Orleans

Recording Supervised by SID McCOY.

As of this writing, the editorial staff at JazzProfiles is awaiting a copy of Rob Palmer’s Mr. P.C.: The Life and Music of Paul Chambers from Equinox Press. A future review of it will form the second part of our feature on Paul Chambers.