Showing posts with label sonny clark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sonny clark. Show all posts

Thursday, June 27, 2024

Grant Green: The Complete Quartets with Sonny Clark

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


I know I’ve shared this view before, but it bears repeating. Over the years, my enjoyment of Jazz has been considerably enhanced by the wise and thoughtful liner notes that graced the back of LPs or by the more recent insert notes that can be found in CD jewel cover booklets.

Initially, these liner notes made up for the dearth of books as a source of knowledge on the subject of Jazz when I first began listening to the music in the 1950s. Holding the jacket cover in hand while listening to the album, my eyes poured over what Ira Gitler or Nat Hentoff or Leonard Feather, to name only a few of my early “mentors,” had to say about the music that was filling my ears and my heart with pleasure.

Since I was also a student of the music for the purpose of wanting to become a Jazz musician myself during those early days, I was especially intrigued by writers that explained song structures, chord sequences and, especially, anything to do with rhythmic patterns or time signatures since these were particularly important to an aspiring, young Jazz drummer.

It is safe to say that I owe an huge debt of gratitude to Leonard Feather, Ted Gioia, Bill Kirchner, Doug Ramsey, Whitney Balliett, Jack Tracy, Gary Giddins and others for helping me to learn and to appreciate more about the music that I have been in love with since I first heard it over 50 years ago.

And because my appreciation of Jazz benefited so greatly from the information and knowledge that I gleaned from the writers of the annotations, comments and explanations that appear on album covers and CD booklets, I have decided to repay the favor with the inclusion of and reliance on these materials in many of the pieces that are prepared for Jazz Profiles.

So when, to my immense delight, I found that the insert notes to the Grant Green: Complete Quartets with Sonny Clark [Blue Note CDP 7243 8 57194 2 4] had not one, but three different sets of insert notes, and that these were by the likes of Ben Sidran, Michael Cuscuna and Bob Porter, the decision to prepare a piece using their remarks on this recording became axiomatic.

As a point in passing, for reasons explained in these notes, Grant Green recorded so often and produced such an abundance of riches for Blue Note that these sides with Sonny Clark were not issued until 1979 – 1980, when most of the music on this 2 CD set was released as three, separate LP’s.

First up are Ben Sidran’s notes to that portion of these tracks that comprised the 1980 Blue Note album Nigeria [LT 1032].

“TIME passes. What was fresh and important recedes under the collected weight of new fresh and important stuff. Enough time has passed since this collection was recorded that a lot of people reading these notes and hearing this music weren't even born on that winter day in 1962 when Grant Green went into the studio.

Back in 1962, Grant's guitar voice was one of the sparkling new additions to a musical universe that seemed to be expanding exponentially. It's hard to imagine-or even to remember- just how explosive the jazz scene was then, particularly in light of the mechanical music which has flourished these last ten years. One indication of the scene then might be the wealth of previously unreleased material, such as this record which is only now showing up in the stores. When Grant came to New York, he walked on to a stage crowded with stars. And he shone with the best of them.

He didn't blaze a trail to the city. He followed a more comfortable path, arriving to join Lou Donaldson's band in 1960. Some compared his hollow-bodied guitar style to that of the earliest pioneer, Charlie Christian. One also hears touches of that other great popularizer, Les Paul. For while Grant was not a radical player, he excelled at the basics and subtleties: he could swing like crazy and he played the prettiest phrases. Grant Green made esoteric music easy for the average listener to get to, just as jazz singers have done for years. Grant Green was a popularizer and a singer on his instrument.

Perhaps the greatest testament to his musical gift was that at a time when the guitar had fallen out of favor, suddenly, Grant Green could be heard everywhere, recording with several of the finest rhythm sections in New York. Within a year of his arrival in the city, he recorded three albums as a leader, featuring a rhythm section of Sonny Clark on piano. Sam Jones on bass and Louis Hayes on drums. Those albums, "Gooden's Corner," 'Oleo,” and "Born To be Blue," have only recently been released on Blue Note in Japan. This album, "Nigeria," falls in the middle of that period of time and has Art Blakey in place of Louis Hayes. It is the only time that Blakey and Green ever recorded together.
Grant was a simple, elegant stylist. When he played a melody, with that kind of dressed-up strut, it was a reminder of just how classy bebop could sound. His interpretation of the title track "Airegin" (ingeniously encoded backwards to ward off the uninitiated) is no exception. It is interesting to note that in the early sixties, Grant performed and recorded an unusually large number of Sonny Rollins tunes, including "Solid ' " "Oleo " "Sonnymoon For Two," and, of course, "Airegin." After Grant states the head Sonny Clark hits one of his patented full keyboard slides and then strolls for a chorus while Blakey gets the groove settled Yawn. Sonny 's solo is a swinging compliment to Grant's, ignoring Green’s reference to 'When Lights Are Low" and turning the spotlight full up on the flowing snakes that were his specialty. Sonny, who had worked with both Rollins and singer Dinah Washington during the late fifties, is able to play both sides of the street here; he acts as the ideal accompanist to Grant's vocalized guitar work.

For my money, the highlight of the album is the stylized arrangement of "It Ain't Necessarily So." Blakey puts down a 12/8 Latin feel, and Grant plays the head in a totally unexpected series of phrases, altering the original melody to such an extent that he might well have called the song "So It Ain't Necessarily" and taken the publishing for himself. But it is the endlessly good groove that is the star of the cut. Interspersed with Blakey's press rolls, this fat-back groove - like those Art played on innumerable Jimmy Smith jam session dates - gets Grant all the way up on his toes. His tone is singing six different ways to Christmas, until he finally gets Blakey singing, for it is the drummer you hear shouting “whoa!” and grunting in response to Grant's precise preaching. By the time Sonny's solo arrives, Blakey is putting as much vocal into the overhead mikes as the cymbal. Clark seems to goad him on, and finally, when he’s taken is ninth chorus and seems read to turn it back to Grant, Blakey won’t let him go. You can hear Art laughing and shouting to Sonny, "No, go ahead, go ahead.” And go ahead he does, until Blakey finally turns him loose with an escalating series of strokes. As the song fades behind that Latin feel, I'm ready to do it all over.
Side two sounds as if it will open with Miles Davis' "Four" but after the classic bebop introduction, the song abruptly half-steps into a very polite "I Concentrate On You." The tension between the tip-toe lounge groove and the powerhouse bebop minds that are playing it is never really resolved, and that is part of the charm of the piece. Grant is so sweet when he plays the melody, but his choruses become bittersweet fast, and soon, he's skipping down some dark memory lane, concentrating hard on some private "you." The song goes out with a vamp reminiscent of a neither the introduction nor the song itself; altogether, a very curious arrangement.

"The Things We Did Lost Summer" also opens with a rather bizarre waltz section, but then settles down into a very delicate ballad. The attitude Grant maintains playing the melody - particularly the little chromatic insertion he uses at the end of the first bridge - is a lovely balance of the benign and the mischievous. This is Grant's power, as a soloist or stating a theme, and it is something great jazz singers like Johnny Hartman are also known for: there is no better way to grab a listener than to lull him into bliss and then grab him by what Lord Buckley used to call 'your most delicate gear."

The record closes with a flag-waver, 'The Song Is You," in which we are reassured that straight ahead is the direction to go. Blakey is once again singing in his mikes, and Sam Jones, God bless him, is walking and shaking his head, There are few things in life more pleasant than walking along with Sam Jones shaking your head.
Down home. Just folks. Kind of corny at times, but very hip. Grant Green was a perfect candidate for what today is called "cross-over hype," but back then was probably not called anything at all. Perhaps it was only natural that record companies would try to make Grant Green into a commercial product, a sow's ear out of a silk purse, as it were. I don't know how or why he turned from the hard, low life grooves he used to spark, towards the cocktail lounge which surely sealed his obscurity by the time he died in early 1979. Often, commercial pressures overwhelm players. After all, they are only musicians,, not lawyers and accountants that's why we buy records. If lawyers and accountants made records, nobody would buy them. At least, that used to be true, and it may be part of the reason why Grant didn't make a major mark on the music scene during the lost years of his life.

I, for one, kept looking for him around every corner, particularly as various guitar players, like Gabor Szabo, or George Benson, or even Eric Gale, would pop into prominence. I kept waiting for Grant to make his move. Unfortunately, his best recorded moves are those from more than fifteen years ago, when he truly was a fresh and important face on what may be the wildest contemporary jazz scene we'll ever know.”

-BEN SIDRAN 1980, original liner notes from "Nigeria”

And here are Michael Cuscuna’s comments from the 1980 Japanese Blue Note release – Gooden’s Corner.
“THE tragedy of Grant Green's death in early 1979 was compounded by the fact that his recorded output for the last decade or more of his life was, for the most part, commercial, uncreative and lacking in individuality. He deserved better, but the economics of keeping a bond working and holding down a record contract forced him into situations far below his talent.

Fortunately, Blue Note thoroughly documented his artistry on a number of sessions under Grant's leadership in the early sixties. Moreover, he was the resident guitarist for Blue Note's stable of premier organists such as Jimmy Smith, John Patton and Larry Young and participated in dates by Lee Morgan, Horace Parlan, Don Wilkerson, Lou Donaldson and others.

Unknown outside of his hometown St. Louis except through his Delmark recordings with tenor saxophonist Jimmy Forrest, Grant was brought to the label and to New York in 1960 by Lou Donaldson. Blue Note always operated on a family basis, developing an impressive, cross-fertilizing repertory group of musicians. Grant was quickly and fully instated in mid 1960.

Green represented not only a fresh, vibrant new voice on an instrument that had become rather sleepy in style in the fifties, but he was also a major link with the all too often neglected pioneer of the hollow body electric guitar in jazz, Charlie Christian. Grant executed bright, clean lines that never fully abandoned the melody, emphasized concise, linear, single note improvisations and possessed a unique rhythmic momentum that remains unmatched. He absorbed Christian, then bypassed such heroes of the day as Tal Farlow, Kenny Burrell and Wes Montgomery and moved directly to the formation of his own identity.

This album "Gooden's Corner", recorded on December 23, 1961, features a beautifully compatible quartet of Grant, pianist Sonny Clark', bassist Sam Jones and drummer Louis Hayes. Ike Quebec joined the group for one tune 'Count Every Star", which was then extracted and used on Quebec's album “Blue And Sentimental” (Blue Note BST 94098). The rest of the session, previously unissued and without Quebec, is presented here in its entirety.

This particular quartet had a run of sessions for Blue Note under Grant's name, all they all remain unissued. On January 13, 1962, the band with Art Blakey subbing for Hayes recorded. On January 31 the quartet with Hayes back again recorded yet another album. And finally on March 1, 1962, the same group, this time with Quebec playing throughout the session, made yet another album's worth of material. Why these dates were never issued will never be known. Most likely, it is because Grant, like other Blue Note artists, recorded prolifically during these years, and there was just no way to get everything released.
As this set bears out, the Green-Clark-Jones-Hayes combination is completely compatible and comfortable. Each man has an easy, natural sense of swinging that interlocks perfectly with his fellow musicians.

Sam Jones has been previously present on a handful of Blue Note dates, led for the most part by another guitarist Kenny Burrell. Louis Hayes was a familiar face at the label through his long term membership in Horace Silver's quintet and his frequent sideman appearances with Curtis Fuller and other Blue Note artists. From the fall of 1959 well into the mid sixties, Jones and Hayes were the pivot of Cannonball Adderley's successful band. They had been together in that capacity for more than two years when this album was recorded, and their empathy is clearly evident.

Although none of the Green dates with Sonny Clark at the piano have ever been issued, their pairing was a natural. Both men possessed the ability to swing hard in an effortless, instinctive manner. Clark is his usual brilliant self here, adding richly to the group texture and urging Grant on with some inspired comping. His solo work is typically two-handed, cooking and always interesting.
It is a testament to Grant Green that he can breath such life into On Green Dolphin Street and What is This Thing Called Love as well as the overdone Henry Mancini hit of the day Moon River. He swings on What Is This Thing ... like no one else on his instrument could. And Moon River is a perfect example of his ability to construct a solo using the tune's melody as the substance of his variations. His rhythmic sense is best illustrated on Shadrack.

Grant contributes two originals, Gooden's Corner and Two For One. Gooden's Corner is a solid blues, given an irresistible performance by the entire group. Two For One, not to be confused with the Sonny Clark tune of the same name, is based on Miles Davis' modal So What, but after the theme, Grant breaks into some straight ahead playing.

This album is a lovely freeze frame in the career of one of the foremost guitarists of modern jazz, a man whom we lost to the commercial world in the late sixties and whom we lost forever in 1979.

-MICHAEL CUSCUNA 1979, original liner notes from "Gooden’s Corner"

We close this piece with Bob Porter’s 1980 original liner notes from Oleo.

“THE business of jazz is extremely difficult to describe to someone not involved in it. Most fans are aware of the qualities that make a great jazz musician: an individual sound; the ability to improvise melodically ("telling a story," in Lester Young's phrase); to swing, etc. There are any number of great jazz musicians who may be deficient in one of these areas, but generally they make up for it by doing one of the other things much better than other players. Yet in all this discussion, there has been no mention of playing melody. Name me a great jazzman who couldn't take a melody and make it uniquely his own.

Grant Green was widely known for his ability to play melodies. It didn't really matter what kind of melodies because Grant could do Latin tunes (see Blue Note 84111 - The Latin Bit); Gospel songs (Blue Note 84132 - Feelin' The Spirit); Western melodies (Blue Note 84310- Goin' West) as well as standards, blues, or jazz tunes. he had a great guitar sound and knew instinctively how to make melodies come alive.

Grant really arrived in 1961. He had made records in 1959 with his hometown friend, Jimmy Forrest, for Delmark and the following year he recorded with organist Sam Lazar, another St. Louis musician, for Argo. but when Lou Donaldson heard him playing in East St. Louis, he convinced Grant and clubowner Leo Gooden to come to New York and talk with Alfred Lion of Blue Note. From 1961 through 1965, Grant Green made more Blue Note lps as leader and sideman than anyone else. Clearly, he was a favorite, not only of Lion, but of Ike Quebec who did much of the A and R work for Blue Note until his death in 1963.

Considering Grant's versatility, it is not unusual that Blue Note used him in a variety of contexts: Herbie Hancock, Lee Morgan, John Patton, Lou Donaldson, Ike Quebec.

At a time when Down Beat was still giving New Star awards, Grant won in 1962. but critical raves have never helped in earning a living. Grant worked often with Jack McDuff during those early years, and was really scuffling for money. In addition to everything else, Grant had a narcotics habit. Now it may be hard to understand in the jazz world of 1979 when musicians, have generally learned to avoid the excesses of heroin and get their business together, but jazz players were very low in the economic strata of the early 60s, and one consistent source of revenue was the record company. It seems likely that Blue Note recorded Grant frequently during those years because he was always drawing money from Blue Note. Grant did at least six LP sessions under his won leadership for Blue Note in 1961. The furious recording pace continued right into 1965, and try as they might, Blue Note could never issue the LPs as fast as Grant could record them!

In a sense, Grant's situation and that of Sonny Clark were similar. They had the identical problems and each was a Blue Note favorite.
The initial pairing of these two talents came just before Christmas, 1961, and resulted in the album, Gooden's Corner. Sam Jones and Louis Hayes were still members of Cannonball Adderley's band at the time, and their appearance together is another reminder of Blue Note's care in assembling rhythm sections. Alfred Lion's choice of bass and drums almost always reflected an ability to play together in support of the leader, rather than to demonstrate individual brilliance.

The tunes played here are not unusual for Grant, although it should be noted that he had an attraction for Sonny Rollins lines. He also recorded "Solid' and "Sonnymoon For Two" during this period. A later version of 'My Favorite Things" was issued on the Matador album.

Grant never does get the tricky theme of "Oleo" exactly right, but it doesn't deter him from fashioning a solo of lightening-like inventiveness. Sonny Clark has always been considered a disciple of Bud Powell and perhaps the chief reason for that is the dynamic flow of his ideas. When playing standards, he sometimes would adopt a lighter touch (reminding one of Hank Jones in his delicacy), but his work throughout this session is in the cooking Powell mode.

If Grant has problems with "Oleo", he has none with "Tune Up." The melody, introduced and long-credited to Miles Davis, was actually written by saxophonist-bluesman Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson, who gave the tune to Davis during a period when he – Vinson - was not recording. Virtually the some thing happened with another Vinson compositions, "Four."

Green was always at home with the blues and "Hip Funk" is his adoption of the classic form that was definitely hip (meaning fashionable) for 1962. Sonny Clark was also a blues master as his work ably demonstrates.
Hearing the music on this album (and Gooden's Corner) makes one immediately interested in hearing more. Alas, there is no more by the quartet, but a bit more than a month later, these same four players joined forces with Ike Quebec for an album that will be forthcoming on Blue Note [Blue and Sentimental].

Between 1965 and 1968, Green was still active as a performer, but his recorded appearances were few. When he returned to Blue Note in 1969, he had rid himself of the narcotics problem, but had acquired a new attitude toward music. The huge success of Wes Montgomery, Kenny Burrell, and George Benson was very much on his mind. He considered himself the musical equal of all of them, yet he was the only one not to have made a significant commercial breakthrough.

His repertoire tended more toward rhythm & blues during his late Blue Note period. He would use repetitive vamps rather than chord changes as harmonic underpinning and his attention to phrasing melodies (always an outstanding feature of his work) become even more pronounced. And the commercial break happened for him! From 1969 to mid-1974, his Blue Note LPs were consistent best sellers and he was a popular attraction at clubs across the USA. He split with Blue Note shortly thereafter and made an LP for Kudu and another for Versatile.

Grant spent much of 1978 in the hospital with a variety of ailments, and he was not a well man when released in December, 1978. His doctors advised him to rest, but there were expenses to meet, so he went back on the road almost immediately. He died of a heart attack on January 31, 1979 - seventeen years to the day of this recording.

During 1969 and 1970 when I was producing records for Prestige, I got to know Grant Green well. He played on albums with Rusty Bryant, Don Patterson, Charles Kynard, and Houston Person which I supervised. I used to marvel at the ease with which this man with enormous hands could make that guitar sing. At one session, during a break, he treated everyone to a solo rendition of "Oleo" which was stunning. After his death, I thought many times of how his career would be judged by historians, since so much of his later recordings were in a commercial vein. But with albums such as Matador, Gooden's Corner, and now Oleo, his stature is assured. Without question, Grant Green was one of the major artists on the guitar during his lifetime. His friend, Lou Donaldson, put it best when he said:

"All the top guitarists who came later - like George Benson and Pat Martino - they've got some of Grant's stuff."

BOB PORTER 1980, original liner notes from “Oleo"





Tuesday, February 27, 2024

No New York - No Bebop, by Buddy DeFranco [Video Additions Buddy DeFranco-Sonny Clark Quartet]

  © Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.


It’s very rare that socio-cultural change can be attributed to one cause. Usually many influences come together to produce significant alterations in

the arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement - literature, music, painting, philosophy - known collectively as “culture.”


So while it would be difficult to affirm that New York City caused Bebop to happen, as the late clarinetist Buddy DeFranco asserts in the following excerpts from A Life in the Golden Age of Jazz: A Biography of Buddy DeFranco by Fabrice Zammarchi and Sylvie Mas [2002], it would have been very challenging for this music to have come into existence elsewhere.


The forces and factors at work during and immediately following World War II came together in a unique way to produce a style of music reflective of the energy and dynamism of that city during those times.


Interestingly, if one were to extend this argument, it might also explain why what came to be known as the Birth of the Cool music by Gil Evans, Gerry Mulligan and Miles Davis took root, not in New York, the place of its “Birth,” but rather, 3,000 miles away in California where socio-cultural conditions there made it an almost natural fit.


"Bebop is, in my opinion, the jazz of New York. It is really a product of this city. Two of its characteristics - the speed of execution and the rapid rhythm - accurately reflect the tension and agitation which reigns in New York. This style couldn't have been born in California, for example, because the mode of life is a lot more tranquil and one takes one's time to do things - but bebop is born of urgency. On the other hand, the earlier styles of jazz have diverse origins, although New York was always a catalyst. The important musicians are not especially from this town.


"Count Basie was born in Red Bank, New Jersey, but he organized his band in Kansas City. Duke Ellington and his first group of musicians came from Washington.


Tommy Dorsey was born in up-State Pennsylvania. Actually his kind of music was formed from Chicago Jazz and his band reflected Midwest and Chicago Jazz, even at the time when I joined his band. It was a Chicago and Kansas City influence originally - it was not New York.


"Then, of course, there is something about New York that attracts everybody in the arts. There is sort of a love/hate relationship you develop with this City - in fact, in many ways I hate New York, but I realize you cannot do without it - it is the focal point of the arts. Without New York, we would never have jazz or any of the arts. Jazz originated in the South, but none of the great jazz artists really matured and made it until they hit New York. Charlie Parker came out of Kansas City, but then he got to New York and began to absorb the flavor of that terrible thing in New York, and that made him great. In the 50's, I loved it, even though I had a closet for a room. You had to fight the elements in those days. Even now, New Yorkers brag about the marvelous apartment they have: three rooms and a kitchen that comes out of the wall - and a bed that comes out of the wall - and even that costs a fortune.


"There is a strange thing about New York that rubs off on everyone. I lived there for eleven years and the love/hate dichotomy is so evident that everybody gets used to yelling at each other. If you go into the average restaurant in New York and calmly say to the waitress 'I'd like a tuna on rye,' she'll yell to the chef in the back: 'Hey! Tuna on rye!' You ask the cab driver, 'Say, are you available?' and he might yell, 'I'm not going that way,' before you even have a chance to say any more. Nelson Riddle and I were at Lindy's, a famous restaurant, years ago. We were having coffee after finishing dinner and dessert, and the waiter came over and said: 'Are you going to sit there all day?' That's it - if you are finished, get out! There's no intentional hatred really; it's just a way of life. And that's sort of like what bebop is to jazz - it's fast and quick and it's a lot of notes and it swings and it's hot - hot and heavy at a fast pace!


"When you go to Los Angeles and sit by a pool in a sunny setting it's a completely different style. That is why a lot of jazz players said that the cool jazz didn't have any soul. That is cruel because a lot of the cool jazz did, but I can understand what they meant, because cool jazz has a lot of the tension taken out of it.


"If you went into a club in New York City to listen to a jazz performance, it was a fast-paced, hard-driving thing - almost hyper. One of the reasons for the tragic demise in jazz in the United States was that musicians just became so frantic they couldn't help it! But that sort of thing happens in all the arts. There hasn't been a phase of the arts that didn't rise and collapse.


"Swing was designed for dancing, even though it was jazz-oriented, but then New York introduced the style called bebop which was ushered in by Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie - mostly Charlie Parker -where it was tense, frantic, and fast-paced intellectually - a lot of notes - and there was no way you could hang any kind of a dance on it. Well, they started along with that pace, they started getting the more intellectual chords and much more highly developed structured triads, cadences etc. - and all of a sudden it is no longer the same earthy dancing music because you are playing something that is well-structured. This music no longer had its place in the popular dance halls, which, in New York, were the Savoy Ballroom or Roseland. They couldn't dance to it, so they started jazz clubs. But then the dancers, who had been left high and dry by the beboppers, embraced this infantile music called 'Rock and Roll' out of frustration. Actually it wasn't called 'Rock and Roll' at first - it was called 'Rhythm and Blues' and 'House Rocking Music.'


"It started with some musicians who bordered on dementia but had some degree of talent. But they had the acumen to know that their music was basic and rhythmic and they decided then that the drummers would lay down a hard, strong, simple rhythmic pattern that got to the dancers. Unfortunately, young audiences don't like to sit back and absorb an intellectual experience or even an emotional experience from the stage.


"Those were the worst years for jazz and for me economically, because all the clubs where I had played regularly either closed or turned to Rock and Roll. Everyone was concerned - even stars like Dizzy Gillespie and George Shearing. After eleven years in New York, my favorite town, I went to California to work for the movie studios."




Friday, July 22, 2022

Grant Green: The Complete Quartets with Sonny Clark [From the Archives with Additions]

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

I am re-posting this feature with a Youtube video of the complete recordings which was unavailable at the time of the original posting. You can locate it at the end of the piece.



I know I’ve shared this view before, but it bears repeating. Over the years, my enjoyment of Jazz has been considerably enhanced by the wise and thoughtful liner notes that graced the back of LPs or by the more recent insert notes that can be found in CD jewel cover booklets.

Initially, these liner notes made up for the dearth of books as a source of knowledge on the subject of Jazz when I first began listening to the music in the 1950s. Holding the jacket cover in hand while listening to the album, my eyes poured over what Ira Gitler or Nat Hentoff or Leonard Feather, to name only a few of my early “mentors,” had to say about the music that was filling my ears and my heart with pleasure.

Since I was also a student of the music for the purpose of wanting to become a Jazz musician myself during those early days, I was especially intrigued by writers that explained song structures, chord sequences and, especially, anything to do with rhythmic patterns or time signatures since these were particularly important to an aspiring, young Jazz drummer.

It is safe to say that I owe an huge debt of gratitude to Leonard Feather, Ted Gioia, Bill Kirchner, Doug Ramsey, Whitney Balliett, Jack Tracy, Gary Giddins and others for helping me to learn and to appreciate more about the music that I have been in love with since I first heard it over 50 years ago.

And because my appreciation of Jazz benefited so greatly from the information and knowledge that I gleaned from the writers of the annotations, comments and explanations that appear on album covers and CD booklets, I have decided to repay the favor with the inclusion of and reliance on these materials in many of the pieces that are prepared for Jazz Profiles.

So when, to my immense delight, I found that the insert notes to the Grant Green: Complete Quartets with Sonny Clark [Blue Note CDP 7243 8 57194 2 4] had not one, but three different sets of insert notes, and that these were by the likes of Ben Sidran, Michael Cuscuna and Bob Porter, the decision to prepare a piece using their remarks on this recording became axiomatic.

As a point in passing, for reasons explained in these notes, Grant Green recorded so often and produced such an abundance of riches for Blue Note that these sides with Sonny Clark were not issued until 1979 – 1980, when most of the music on this 2 CD set was released as three, separate LP’s.

First up are Ben Sidran’s notes to that portion of these tracks that comprised the 1980 Blue Note album Nigeria [LT 1032].

“TIME passes. What was fresh and important recedes under the collected weight of new fresh and important stuff. Enough time has passed since this collection was recorded that a lot of people reading these notes and hearing this music weren't even born on that winter day in 1962 when Grant Green went into the studio.

Back in 1962, Grant's guitar voice was one of the sparkling new additions to a musical universe that seemed to be expanding exponentially. It's hard to imagine-or even to remember- just how explosive the jazz scene was then, particularly in light of the mechanical music which has flourished these last ten years. One indication of the scene then might be the wealth of previously unreleased material, such as this record which is only now showing up in the stores. When Grant came to New York, he walked on to a stage crowded with stars. And he shone with the best of them.

He didn't blaze a trail to the city. He followed a more comfortable path, arriving to join Lou Donaldson's band in 1960. Some compared his hollow-bodied guitar style to that of the earliest pioneer, Charlie Christian. One also hears touches of that other great popularizer, Les Paul. For while Grant was not a radical player, he excelled at the basics and subtleties: he could swing like crazy and he played the prettiest phrases. Grant Green made esoteric music easy for the average listener to get to, just as jazz singers have done for years. Grant Green was a popularizer and a singer on his instrument.

Perhaps the greatest testament to his musical gift was that at a time when the guitar had fallen out of favor, suddenly, Grant Green could be heard everywhere, recording with several of the finest rhythm sections in New York. Within a year of his arrival in the city, he recorded three albums as a leader, featuring a rhythm section of Sonny Clark on piano. Sam Jones on bass and Louis Hayes on drums. Those albums, "Gooden's Corner," 'Oleo,” and "Born To be Blue," have only recently been released on Blue Note in Japan. This album, "Nigeria," falls in the middle of that period of time and has Art Blakey in place of Louis Hayes. It is the only time that Blakey and Green ever recorded together.
Grant was a simple, elegant stylist. When he played a melody, with that kind of dressed-up strut, it was a reminder of just how classy bebop could sound. His interpretation of the title track "Airegin" (ingeniously encoded backwards to ward off the uninitiated) is no exception. It is interesting to note that in the early sixties, Grant performed and recorded an unusually large number of Sonny Rollins tunes, including "Solid ' " "Oleo " "Sonnymoon For Two," and, of course, "Airegin." After Grant states the head Sonny Clark hits one of his patented full keyboard slides and then strolls for a chorus while Blakey gets the groove settled down. Sonny 's solo is a swinging compliment to Grant's, ignoring Green’s reference to 'When Lights Are Low" and turning the spotlight full up on the flowing snakes that were his specialty. Sonny, who had worked with both Rollins and singer Dinah Washington during the late fifties, is able to play both sides of the street here; he acts as the ideal accompanist to Grant's vocalized guitar work.

For my money, the highlight of the album is the stylized arrangement of "It Ain't Necessarily So." Blakey puts down a 12/8 Latin feel, and Grant plays the head in a totally unexpected series of phrases, altering the original melody to such an extent that he might well have called the song "So It Ain't Necessarily" and taken the publishing for himself. But it is the endlessly good groove that is the star of the cut. Interspersed with Blakey's press rolls, this fat-back groove - like those Art played on innumerable Jimmy Smith jam session dates - gets Grant all the way up on his toes. His tone is singing six different ways to Christmas, until he finally gets Blakey singing, for it is the drummer you hear shouting “whoa!” and grunting in response to Grant's precise preaching. By the time Sonny's solo arrives, Blakey is putting as much vocal into the overhead mikes as the cymbal. Clark seems to goad him on, and finally, when he’s taken his ninth chorus and seems read to turn it back to Grant, Blakey won’t let him go. You can hear Art laughing and shouting to Sonny, "No, go ahead, go ahead.” And go ahead he does, until Blakey finally turns him loose with an escalating series of strokes. As the song fades behind that Latin feel, I'm ready to do it all over.
Side two sounds as if it will open with Miles Davis' "Four" but after the classic bebop introduction, the song abruptly half-steps into a very polite "I Concentrate On You." The tension between the tip-toe lounge groove and the powerhouse bebop minds that are playing it is never really resolved, and that is part of the charm of the piece. Grant is so sweet when he plays the melody, but his choruses become bittersweet fast, and soon, he's skipping down some dark memory lane, concentrating hard on some private "you." The song goes out with a vamp reminiscent of neither the introduction nor the song itself; altogether, a very curious arrangement.

"The Things We Did Lost Summer" also opens with a rather bizarre waltz section, but then settles down into a very delicate ballad. The attitude Grant maintains playing the melody - particularly the little chromatic insertion he uses at the end of the first bridge - is a lovely balance of the benign and the mischievous. This is Grant's power, as a soloist or stating a theme, and it is something great jazz singers like Johnny Hartman are also known for: there is no better way to grab a listener than to lull him into bliss and then grab him by what Lord Buckley used to call 'your most delicate gear."

The record closes with a flag-waver, 'The Song Is You," in which we are reassured that straight ahead is the direction to go. Blakey is once again singing in his mikes, and Sam Jones, God bless him, is walking and shaking his head, There are few things in life more pleasant than walking along with Sam Jones shaking your head.
Down home. Just folks. Kind of corny at times, but very hip. Grant Green was a perfect candidate for what today is called "cross-over hype," but back then was probably not called anything at all. Perhaps it was only natural that record companies would try to make Grant Green into a commercial product, a sow's ear out of a silk purse, as it were. I don't know how or why he turned from the hard, low life grooves he used to spark, towards the cocktail lounge which surely sealed his obscurity by the time he died in early 1979. Often, commercial pressures overwhelm players. After all, they are only musicians, not lawyers and accountants, that's why we buy records. If lawyers and accountants made records, nobody would buy them. At least, that used to be true, and it may be part of the reason why Grant didn't make a major mark on the music scene during the lost years of his life.

I, for one, kept looking for him around every corner, particularly as various guitar players, like Gabor Szabo, or George Benson, or even Eric Gale, would pop into prominence. I kept waiting for Grant to make his move. Unfortunately, his best recorded moves are those from more than fifteen years ago, when he truly was a fresh and important face on what may be the wildest contemporary jazz scene we'll ever know.”

-BEN SIDRAN 1980, original liner notes from "Nigeria”

And here are Michael Cuscuna’s comments from the 1980 Japanese Blue Note release – Gooden’s Corner.
“THE tragedy of Grant Green's death in early 1979 was compounded by the fact that his recorded output for the last decade or more of his life was, for the most part, commercial, uncreative and lacking in individuality. He deserved better, but the economics of keeping a band working and holding down a record contract forced him into situations far below his talent.

Fortunately, Blue Note thoroughly documented his artistry on a number of sessions under Grant's leadership in the early sixties. Moreover, he was the resident guitarist for Blue Note's stable of premier organists such as Jimmy Smith, John Patton and Larry Young and participated in dates by Lee Morgan, Horace Parlan, Don Wilkerson, Lou Donaldson and others.

Unknown outside of his hometown St. Louis except through his Delmark recordings with tenor saxophonist Jimmy Forrest, Grant was brought to the label and to New York in 1960 by Lou Donaldson. Blue Note always operated on a family basis, developing an impressive, cross-fertilizing repertory group of musicians. Grant was quickly and fully instated in mid 1960.

Green represented not only a fresh, vibrant new voice on an instrument that had become rather sleepy in style in the fifties, but he was also a major link with the all too often neglected pioneer of the hollow body electric guitar in jazz, Charlie Christian. Grant executed bright, clean lines that never fully abandoned the melody, emphasized concise, linear, single note improvisations and possessed a unique rhythmic momentum that remains unmatched. He absorbed Christian, then bypassed such heroes of the day as Tal Farlow, Kenny Burrell and Wes Montgomery and moved directly to the formation of his own identity.

This album "Gooden's Corner", recorded on December 23, 1961, features a beautifully compatible quartet of Grant, pianist Sonny Clark', bassist Sam Jones and drummer Louis Hayes. Ike Quebec joined the group for one tune 'Count Every Star", which was then extracted and used on Quebec's album “Blue And Sentimental” (Blue Note BST 94098). The rest of the session, previously unissued and without Quebec, is presented here in its entirety.

This particular quartet had a run of sessions for Blue Note under Grant's name, all they all remain unissued. On January 13, 1962, the band with Art Blakey subbing for Hayes recorded. On January 31 the quartet with Hayes back again recorded yet another album. And finally on March 1, 1962, the same group, this time with Quebec playing throughout the session, made yet another album's worth of material. Why these dates were never issued will never be known. Most likely, it is because Grant, like other Blue Note artists, recorded prolifically during these years, and there was just no way to get everything released.
As this set bears out, the Green-Clark-Jones-Hayes combination is completely compatible and comfortable. Each man has an easy, natural sense of swinging that interlocks perfectly with his fellow musicians.

Sam Jones has been previously present on a handful of Blue Note dates, led for the most part by another guitarist Kenny Burrell. Louis Hayes was a familiar face at the label through his long term membership in Horace Silver's quintet and his frequent sideman appearances with Curtis Fuller and other Blue Note artists. From the fall of 1959 well into the mid sixties, Jones and Hayes were the pivot of Cannonball Adderley's successful band. They had been together in that capacity for more than two years when this album was recorded, and their empathy is clearly evident.

Although none of the Green dates with Sonny Clark at the piano have ever been issued, their pairing was a natural. Both men possessed the ability to swing hard in an effortless, instinctive manner. Clark is his usual brilliant self here, adding richly to the group texture and urging Grant on with some inspired comping. His solo work is typically two-handed, cooking and always interesting.
It is a testament to Grant Green that he can breath such life into On Green Dolphin Street and What is This Thing Called Love as well as the overdone Henry Mancini hit of the day Moon River. He swings on What Is This Thing ... like no one else on his instrument could. And Moon River is a perfect example of his ability to construct a solo using the tune's melody as the substance of his variations. His rhythmic sense is best illustrated on Shadrack.

Grant contributes two originals, Gooden's Corner and Two For One. Gooden's Corner is a solid blues, given an irresistible performance by the entire group. Two For One, not to be confused with the Sonny Clark tune of the same name, is based on Miles Davis' modal So What, but after the theme, Grant breaks into some straight ahead playing.

This album is a lovely freeze frame in the career of one of the foremost guitarists of modern jazz, a man whom we lost to the commercial world in the late sixties and whom we lost forever in 1979.

-MICHAEL CUSCUNA 1979, original liner notes from "Gooden’s Corner"

We close this piece with Bob Porter’s 1980 original liner notes from Oleo.

“THE business of jazz is extremely difficult to describe to someone not involved in it. Most fans are aware of the qualities that make a great jazz musician: an individual sound; the ability to improvise melodically ("telling a story," in Lester Young's phrase); to swing, etc. There are any number of great jazz musicians who may be deficient in one of these areas, but generally they make up for it by doing one of the other things much better than other players. Yet in all this discussion, there has been no mention of playing melody. Name me a great jazzman who couldn't take a melody and make it uniquely his own.

Grant Green was widely known for his ability to play melodies. It didn't really matter what kind of melodies because Grant could do Latin tunes (see Blue Note 84111 - The Latin Bit); Gospel songs (Blue Note 84132 - Feelin' The Spirit); Western melodies (Blue Note 84310- Goin' West) as well as standards, blues, or jazz tunes. he had a great guitar sound and knew instinctively how to make melodies come alive.

Grant really arrived in 1961. He had made records in 1959 with his hometown friend, Jimmy Forrest, for Delmark and the following year he recorded with organist Sam Lazar, another St. Louis musician, for Argo. but when Lou Donaldson heard him playing in East St. Louis, he convinced Grant and clubowner Leo Gooden to come to New York and talk with Alfred Lion of Blue Note. From 1961 through 1965, Grant Green made more Blue Note lps as leader and sideman than anyone else. Clearly, he was a favorite, not only of Lion, but of Ike Quebec who did much of the A and R work for Blue Note until his death in 1963.

Considering Grant's versatility, it is not unusual that Blue Note used him in a variety of contexts: Herbie Hancock, Lee Morgan, John Patton, Lou Donaldson, Ike Quebec.

At a time when Down Beat was still giving New Star awards, Grant won in 1962. but critical raves have never helped in earning a living. Grant worked often with Jack McDuff during those early years, and was really scuffling for money. In addition to everything else, Grant had a narcotics habit. Now it may be hard to understand in the jazz world of 1979 when musicians, have generally learned to avoid the excesses of heroin and get their business together, but jazz players were very low in the economic strata of the early 60s, and one consistent source of revenue was the record company. It seems likely that Blue Note recorded Grant frequently during those years because he was always drawing money from Blue Note. Grant did at least six LP sessions under his won leadership for Blue Note in 1961. The furious recording pace continued right into 1965, and try as they might, Blue Note could never issue the LPs as fast as Grant could record them!

In a sense, Grant's situation and that of Sonny Clark were similar. They had the identical problems and each was a Blue Note favorite.
The initial pairing of these two talents came just before Christmas, 1961, and resulted in the album, Gooden's Corner. Sam Jones and Louis Hayes were still members of Cannonball Adderley's band at the time, and their appearance together is another reminder of Blue Note's care in assembling rhythm sections. Alfred Lion's choice of bass and drums almost always reflected an ability to play together in support of the leader, rather than to demonstrate individual brilliance.

The tunes played here are not unusual for Grant, although it should be noted that he had an attraction for Sonny Rollins lines. He also recorded "Solid' and "Sonnymoon For Two" during this period. A later version of 'My Favorite Things" was issued on the Matador album.

Grant never does get the tricky theme of "Oleo" exactly right, but it doesn't deter him from fashioning a solo of lightening-like inventiveness. Sonny Clark has always been considered a disciple of Bud Powell and perhaps the chief reason for that is the dynamic flow of his ideas. When playing standards, he sometimes would adopt a lighter touch (reminding one of Hank Jones in his delicacy), but his work throughout this session is in the cooking Powell mode.

If Grant has problems with "Oleo", he has none with "Tune Up." The melody, introduced and long-credited to Miles Davis, was actually written by saxophonist-bluesman Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson, who gave the tune to Davis during a period when he – Vinson - was not recording. Virtually the some thing happened with another Vinson compositions, "Four."

Green was always at home with the blues and "Hip Funk" is his adoption of the classic form that was definitely hip (meaning fashionable) for 1962. Sonny Clark was also a blues master as his work ably demonstrates.
Hearing the music on this album (and Gooden's Corner) makes one immediately interested in hearing more. Alas, there is no more by the quartet, but a bit more than a month later, these same four players joined forces with Ike Quebec for an album that will be forthcoming on Blue Note [Blue and Sentimental].

Between 1965 and 1968, Green was still active as a performer, but his recorded appearances were few. When he returned to Blue Note in 1969, he had rid himself of the narcotics problem, but had acquired a new attitude toward music. The huge success of Wes Montgomery, Kenny Burrell, and George Benson was very much on his mind. He considered himself the musical equal of all of them, yet he was the only one not to have made a significant commercial breakthrough.

His repertoire tended more toward rhythm & blues during his late Blue Note period. He would use repetitive vamps rather than chord changes as harmonic underpinning and his attention to phrasing melodies (always an outstanding feature of his work) become even more pronounced. And the commercial break happened for him! From 1969 to mid-1974, his Blue Note LPs were consistent best sellers and he was a popular attraction at clubs across the USA. He split with Blue Note shortly thereafter and made an LP for Kudu and another for Versatile.

Grant spent much of 1978 in the hospital with a variety of ailments, and he was not a well man when released in December, 1978. His doctors advised him to rest, but there were expenses to meet, so he went back on the road almost immediately. He died of a heart attack on January 31, 1979 - seventeen years to the day of this recording.

During 1969 and 1970 when I was producing records for Prestige, I got to know Grant Green well. He played on albums with Rusty Bryant, Don Patterson, Charles Kynard, and Houston Person which I supervised. I used to marvel at the ease with which this man with enormous hands could make that guitar sing. At one session, during a break, he treated everyone to a solo rendition of "Oleo" which was stunning. After his death, I thought many times of how his career would be judged by historians, since so much of his later recordings were in a commercial vein. But with albums such as Matador, Gooden's Corner, and now Oleo, his stature is assured. Without question, Grant Green was one of the major artists on the guitar during his lifetime. His friend, Lou Donaldson, put it best when he said:

"All the top guitarists who came later - like George Benson and Pat Martino - they've got some of Grant's stuff."

BOB PORTER 1980, original liner notes from “Oleo"





Tuesday, June 14, 2022

Sonny Clark - The Blue Note Years by Steve Siegel

 © Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.



With previous features on pianist Wade Legge, the Great Day in Harlem Photograph “Mystery Man” - William J. Crump, drummer Frankie Dunlop, vocalist Jimmy Rushing, critic and author Nat Hentoff, and Jazz Party: A Great Night In Manhattan featuring the Miles Davis Sextet, the Duke Ellington Orchestra, the September 9, 1958 fest that Columbia Records put on at the Plaza Hotel for its executives and guests, trumpeter Dupree Bolton, and vocalist Helen Merrill, Steve Siegel has assumed the role of “unofficial” staff writer for JazzProfiles.

His latest effort is about pianist Sonny Clark [1931-1963], who had an early career on the West Coast with tenor saxophonist Wardell Gray, clarinetist Buddy De Franco and Howard Rumsey’s Lighthouse All-Stars before setting up shop in New York City where his career as a pianist and composer flourished before his death in 1963.

© -Steve Siegel copyright protected; all rights reserved; used with the author’s permission.

Sonny Clark – The Blue Note Years 

“Johnny Griffin on Sonny Clark:

I remember so well working with Sonny Clark, Philly Joe Jones and Wilbur Ware at the Bohemia in New York City in 1959. And before that recording the Blue Note album “The Congregation” with Sonny Clark, Paul Chambers and Kenny Dennis. Sonny was one of the great pianists coming up at that time. He played his ass off, always. It's a pity that he left the scene so early in his life. He had his own way of doing things. You know, most of the pianists at that time were really playing off Bud Powell's bag. Sonny was a little different. He used Bud's basis for power and attack on the piano, but he had another finesse and an exceptional technique, too. He was quite himself. —Johnny Griffin, Madrid, October 28, 1983.

The year 1957 was an important year in the history of Blue Note Records.  In March, Rudy Van Gelder made his first stereo recording and in May, Blue Note started recording all its sessions in both stereo and mono; though the releases continued to be only in mono until 1959. It was also the year that Van Gelder completed the acquisition of most of the high-quality recording and mastering equipment that became the technical basis of the famous “Van Gelder Sound." 

1957 was also Alfred Lion’s, Blue Note’s co-owner and Producer, most prolific year of the 1950s, yielding *49 sessions and turning out many LP's that were destined to become classics such as Coltrane’s Blue Train, Sonny Rollins' Live at the Village Vanguard, Jimmy Smith’s The Sermon and House Party, Johnny Griffin's The Congregation, Lee Morgan’s Vol. 3, and Hank Mobley's Hank Mobley Quintet - to name just a few. Another occurrence which was not considered big news at the time but proved to be an important acquisition for many future Blue Note sessions was the arrival in New York City of 25-year-old Sonny Clark, from California in the Spring of 1957. 

As we shall see, Sonny Clark was to spend so much time in Rudy Van Gelder's studio in Hackensack in 1957 and beyond, that Alfred Lion might have considered renting Clark a room in Rudy’s parents’ home, which doubled as his recording studio.

Clark had left California in February 1957, where he had spent the previous four years, bound for NYC. His meal-ticket for the trip east was as the accompanist for Dinah Washington; he arrived in NYC in April of 1957.

Though Clark did not record for Blue Note until June of 1957, we can assume that his reputation preceded him. Clark was making some noise in California through extensive work with Buddy DeFranco, a stint with the Lighthouse All-Stars and lending support to Sonny Criss on three of his albums. Despite his time on the West Coast, Clark's style was always more consonant with the East Coast boppers than the less aggressive sounds coming from many of the West Coast-based musicians in the early to mid-1950s. 

His reason for returning back east was related to Robert Levin for the liner notes for the Dial “S" For Sonny record:

Jazz is jazz wherever it's played. The whole thing has to do with the individual and his conception towards jazz. The thing is that my way of playing jazz is different from the way most of the fellows out West play. I'd rather work in the East because what is played here is closer to the traditional meeting of jazz. They're getting away from tradition out West - combining jazz with classical music and playing chamber music type jazz. What they play is really very good, but it's just not the way I want to play. That's why I came back East.

Beyond his reputation outside of NYC, Alfred Lion might have caught Clark at one of his infrequent club gigs or became aware of him from other musicians who heard Clark in Los Angeles or gigging around NYC.   

According to Roy Haynes who was the drummer on the sessions, Clark got his first recording date in NYC on a Sonny Rollins Riverside session when he replaced Hank Jones who was originally scheduled for the gig on June 11, 12 and 19, 1957. 

Clark's first Blue Note session occurred only four days after his final Riverside session - appearing at the June 23 Blue Note session that yielded the Hank Mobley Sextet album. His first session as a leader took place four weeks later on July 21 - Clark's 26th birthday, resulting in the Dial ‘S' for Sonny album with Curtis Fuller, Hank Mobley, Wilber Ware and Louis Hayes. 

To put into perspective Sonny Clark's value to Alfred Lion: From June 23 to December 15, 1957, (the date of Blue Note’s last session of 1957), Blue Note held *27 recording sessions. Seven of these 27 sessions did not employ a pianist (five Jimmy Smith sessions and the two Sonny Rollins' Village Vanguard sessions. Only one session utilized a pianist as a leader (Bud Powell) and five sessions employed five different pianists as sidemen. So that leaves 14 sessions where another pianist was involved. Sonny Clark was the pianist on all 14 of these – 10 as a sideman and four as a leader. Therefore, during this six-month period, no pianist entered the Van Gelder studio for a Blue Note session more than once, except Sonny Clark who entered it 14 times! 

In NYC, in 1957, there was no shortage of accomplished, world class jazz pianists who were available to Lion (though some had exclusive contracts with other labels). For a new arrival to NYC, the scope of Clark's work for the label during this six-month period was impressive - even more so if one considers that the leaders of the 10 sessions that Clark supported as a sideman had either requested Clark or approved of Clark at Lion's suggestion – Lion would not have forced Clark on any of these session leaders.

Pianist Michael Weiss: 

The decision to use Sonny as a sideman is almost entirely determined by the leader of the date. Alfred Lion would have to have some non-musical compelling reason to prevent a leader from using a sideman the leader wanted, especially if he was under contract to the label. Of course, with Sonny already under contract it's in Alfred's interest to have him appear as a sideman, if the leader is agreeable.

Of all the musicians that led a Blue Note session during this six-month period, only Jimmy Smith had more leadership sessions than Clark – five to Clark's four.

This clearly shows the respect as a musician that both Lion and Clark's fellow musicians had for him – and only after a few months in NYC.

Why Clark ended up being such an integral part of the Blue Note family, recording the five solo albums that were released in his lifetime, as well as being the pianist on multiple classic and near classic Blue Note recordings becomes self-evident when listening to his work. He was as perfect an accompanist for the type of music that Blue Note was putting out as existed in the jazz scene in NYC at the time. Why Clark accepted the grind of so many sessions might also have had something to do with the cost of his serious drug addiction. Rather remarkably though it appears that somehow his drug habit rarely, if ever, seemed to impact his ability as a leader or accompanist.

As an accompanist Clark seemed to have the uncanny ability to find the holes in the ensemble and put down appropriate chords and single note lines necessary to enhance the quality of all recordings that he was present on. Every note he played seemed to have a purpose and had a positive impact on the musical output of every ensemble he was currently recording with.  

Weiss:

Sonny Clark had a distinctive touch and sound on the piano. His chords were rich, his rhythm and swing were buoyant, the expressiveness and intent behind his attack and articulation were convincing. He was a rhythmically stimulating accompanist who knew how to support a soloist without getting in the way. I am sure all of these traits made him a valued asset to any group.

Pianist Sullivan Fortner:

As of late, there has been an unexpected resurgence of jazz pianists who are interested in Sonny Clark. What I’ve admired lately about Sonny Clark is his clarity of rhythm and melodic construction, but also his timing. It seems to me, his priority is always groove. He also never flubs… everything he plays is just right and it’s just what the doctor orders musically (he never plays more than what the music needs). He was also a hell of a comper. I remember once I asked (trumpeter) Roy Hargrove, if you could play like any pianist, who would it be? And he told me, “Sonny Clark.”

An example of that comping skill can be heard early in Clark's career on Serge Chaloff’s 1956 classic album Blue Serge – an album recorded in Los Angeles about a year before Clark's arrival in New York, with a rhythm section of Leroy Vinegar, Philly Joe Jones and Clark.

Chaloff’s technical mastery of the challenging baritone saxophone was complete. On Blue Serge all the elements that contribute to this mastery are on display. This album showed the oftentimes erratic Chaloff at his absolute best, performing on the baritone at a level never sustained for an entire album by any other baritone player on record up until that time. Chaloff could be musically overwhelming, using every bit of the baritone's almost two-octave range and varying his dynamics from pianissimo to forte, oftentimes within the same phrase. Many talented pianists of the day would have been hard pressed to add much to the proceedings or, at times, even be clearly heard over the rumbling baritone of Chaloff. Clark, with little or no prior rehearsal of the material, consistently manages to find the musical cracks in Chaloff's swirl of sound and adds sparkling filigrees of sound to the proceedings.

Pianist Pete Malinverni:

He plays nothing superfluous while elucidating the chord progressions in an elegant way. His touch is beautiful, too. He plays lines featuring slightly detached notes and uses dynamics in a way that many pianists forget to employ.

Perhaps Alfred Lion might have heard Clark's work on this Chaloff album. Regardless if he did or didn't, his work here could have served as a good “calling card” when he arrived in NYC.

On four occasions during the second half of 1957, Lion brought Clark into the Van Gelder studio to record as a leader.

For the July 21 session, a sextet was put together which included Curtis Fuller, Art Farmer, Hank Mobley, Wilbur Ware and Louis Hayes - all handpicked for the session by Clark. They laid down six tracks which were released as BLP 1570 – Dial “S" for Sonny. Of the six tracks, four were written by Clark. Five of the tracks were performed by the sextet, with the final track, Gershwin's “Love Walked In,” performed with the trio of Clark, Ware and Hayes.

On September 1, Clark returned to Hackensack. Lion must have liked the sound that the sextet format provided for Clark, for he again used that format with the same instrumentation – tenor, trumpet and trombone – as was present for Clark's previous effort but with only Fuller returning from BLP 1570. Now joining Fuller in the frontline were John Coltrane and Donald Byrd with the rhythm support of Paul Chambers and Art Taylor. Five tracks appeared on the release, BLP 1576, Sonny's Crib. It featured two more Clark originals: “Lulu's Back in Town" and “Sonny's Crib.”

This album might have served as a “test drive" of sorts for Lion, because exactly two weeks later, on September 15, he brought back Coltrane, Fuller and Chambers; with Coltrane adding Kenny Drew, Lee Morgan and Philly Joe Jones and recorded Coltrane's only Blue Note album as a leader and arguably Blue Note’s finest ever – Blue Train.

Clark was back in the studio on October 13 for a trio album. Evidently, Lion felt comfortable enough with Clark to give him the opportunity to perform with the ultimate “stand naked in front of the crowd and stretch out musically” format – a piano trio. Providing the support was the telepathic duo of Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones of the Miles Davis group. Lion and Clark seemed to be playing it safe commercially by recording all jazz and Great American Songbook standards – no Clark originals. The finished product, BLP 1579, was entitled Sonny Clark Trio.

Clark's final album in 1957 as a leader, took place on December 8. Joining Clark were Clifford Jordan, Kenny Burrell, Paul Chambers and Pete La Rocca. Three Sonny Clark originals were recorded and the album to be was actually assigned an album number – BLP 1592 – but was never completed nor ever issued. This album that never was, holds the distinction of being the only one in the Blue Note 1500 mono series to be issued a catalog number but never released. The three titles recorded that day eventually found their way onto two Japanese releases: Sonny Clark Quintets (1977) and Cool Struttin' Volume 2 (1983). 

As 1958 began, Clark returned to Hackensack on January 5 for a session that would yield what is considered by many to be his strongest Blue Note album, BLP 1588 - Cool Struttin'. (Though 1962’s Leapin' and Lopin', Clark's last album for Blue Note, has, in recent decades, gained much traction in the United States as Clark's best album.) 

Art Farmer, Jackie McLean, Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones joined Clark on four compositions, two of which were Clark originals.

The success of the Cool Struttin' album is perhaps based upon Clark and company's ability to take the precepts of hard bop which made it a viable, less complex and more listenable alternative to be-bop and combine all of those elements in a rather organic and natural manner. We find an album seeped in a blues feel though offering structural elements that mostly transcend your basic 12-bar blues. In essence, Clark encouraged the musicians to stretch out to more completely tell their musical stories. All the musicians seemed to lock in to Clark's ideas, producing true musical art and never crossing over into the self-indulgence that some hard bop albums of the era possessed, while straining for commercial appeal. 

Fortner:

Cool Struttin’ is one of those records I always go back to, not just to study, but to dance to with my girlfriend, or cook to. 

People music!

 Weiss:

I especially liked the way he infused his bebop vocabulary with blues- tinged ideas. Labels have never been good for a musician, but if the term “hard bop” could be exemplified by anyone, I think Sonny Clark would be a prime candidate. In addition to the obvious influence of Bud Powell, Monk also seemed to have left his mark. It’s tragic that Sonny died so young. I believe he was on the verge of building on his style in a significant way. I was attracted to Sonny Clark’s playing as soon as I heard him, and his influence on me is undeniable.

The remainder of 1958 found Clark still functioning as a critical cog in another busy year for Blue Note. Though not as involved in the whirlwind of activity that 1957 had provided, nonetheless Clark held down the piano chair at nine sessions - three as a leader and six as a sideman. 

Unfortunately, for reasons often speculated upon but never clarified, of the three sessions that Clark led in 1958, only Cool Struttin' was released in his lifetime. The other two sessions were not to be released in album form for two more decades - on Japanese releases.

His second session as a leader, which took place on November 16, was probably never intended to be released in album format. The idea was to record some easily recognizable jazz chestnuts suitable for casual listening, add a little funk to them suitable for dancing and release them on 7-inch 45 RPM vinyl for use in jukeboxes in Black communities. Six songs such as “Gee Baby, Ain't I Good to You" and “I'm Just a Lucky So and So” were recorded and released on three 2-sided 45 RPM records. 

In 1980, all six songs were compiled on the “B" side of an album, only released in Japan, titled The Art of the Trio with Clark, Wes Landers on drums and Jymie Merritt on bass. The “A" side contained three alternative takes from the October 1957 session that produced BLP 1579 - The Sonny Clark Trio.

Clark's final leadership session of 1958 took place on December 7 with Wes Landers again on drums and Paul Chambers on bass. This album was never released in the United States and was finally released in Japan in 1979, under the title Blues in the Night.

Clark's first stint with Blue Note ended in early 1959. On January 18 he appeared on three issued songs on Jackie McLean’s album, Jackie's Bag. His partners in the rhythm section were his old friends Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones.

Then on March 29, he walked into Rudy Van Gelder's Hackensack studio to record another album as a leader. Sidemen included Donald Byrd, Hank Mobley, Paul Chambers and Art Blakey. They completed six songs that day – enough to complete the album. But again, another session was shelved and any intended album was never issued until decades later. It was first released in 1979, in Japan, as My Conception and in the United States in 2022 with the same title.

Perhaps because of Clark's frustration with Lion's decision to hold back 16 accepted takes recorded at three sessions, he was not to appear on any sessions for Blue Note for 2½ years, until October 26, 1961.

The eventual release of those shelved recordings has made it clear to critics, historians, musicians and fans of Clark's work, that his complete body of work for Blue Note was consistently good and that Lion's failure to release them was probably not due to any decline in the quality of the output. Perhaps it was, as many have speculated, that Lion simply had too much good “product" on hand and some things simply were put on his “to do” list and eventually were lost to time.

With that in mind, who could blame Clark if he finally got to the point where professionally, he simply could no longer justify putting in the work necessary to produce quality recorded jazz, if the master tape might spend decades sitting in its container in the Blue Note archives.

During his hiatus from Blue Note, he continued to record elsewhere. On March 23, 1960, Clark went into the studio for Time Records with Max Roach and George Duvivier and turned out perhaps his best trio album, Sonny Clark Trio. Interestingly, four of the eight recordings on the album were compositions that Clark had previously recorded for Blue Note which hadn't been released. Three were new compositions and only one – “Sonny's Crib" - had been recorded for Blue Note and previously released. 

On October 26, 1961, Clark returned to Blue Note for the Jackie McLean Fickle Sonance session. Also present at the session were Blue Note’s new pairing of bassist Butch Warren and drummer Billy Higgins. Clark, Warren and Higgins were to appear together on a total of eight Blue Note sessions through August of 1962.

The following day, Clark, Higgins and Warren appeared on a Grant Green session. This was Clark's first studio meeting with Green, the first of many very productive sessions that Clark and Green would have over the next year for Blue Note. Unfortunately, much of this work was only released in Japan until finally compiled in a box set by Mosaic Records, MR5-133.

On November 13, Clark returned to Van Gelder's new studio in Englewood Cliffs, NJ for his final session as a Blue Note leader. With him were Charlie Rouse, Ike Quebec, Tommy Turrentine, Butch Warren and Billy Higgins. 

Of the six songs recorded, three were written by Clark, with Turrentine and Warren each contributing one. The other piece was the De Lange and Van Heusen standard, “Deep in a Dream.” Only on “Deep in a Dream" does Quebec appear, with Turrentine and Rouse laying out.

Leapin' and Lopin' is considered one of Clark's finest releases, regardless of his label. It also shows that Clark, though having only 14 months to live, had lost nothing as both a composer and as a pianist.

In 1962, Clark was called upon to appear at 13 sessions as a sideman and with regards to his work with Green, an equal partner. From the time of his return to Blue Note in late 1961 until his final session in late 1962, Clark shared six sessions with Green. 

Beyond his work with Green, in 1962, on June 25, August 25 and 27, Clark did three sessions with Dexter Gordon. Two albums were released as A Swingin' Affair and Go! – the latter considered by many to be Dexter's best work on Blue Note. Higgins and Warren joined Clark on both of these albums. The third album Landslide was first released in 1980.

Clark’s final Blue Note session took place on October 18, 1962, led by Stanley Turrentine, entitled Jubilee Shout!!!.

Malinverni:

Sonny Clark! He's been a huge influence on me. I call him "Jazz Mozart," because what he plays sounds simple, but "you try it!" Of course, I love the compositions and arrangements on the quintet records, but his trio recordings are the ones I listen to over and over again. He's sort of a "Bud Powell for mortals," in that what he plays addresses the tunes beautifully, but you can hear and transcribe everything he does. I regularly use him in my teaching and find that listening to and emulating him gives a young musician an effective and idiomatic language - which, of course, we've all done toward developing our own personal styles, as we broaden our listening to include all the greats who've come before us, in the way composers study the works of the past toward moving the art forward - our ultimate goal. 

On January 13, 1963 Sonny Clark died at the age of 31 of what was determined to be a heart attack but was most likely related to drug use.

He was my man. He just left too soon. You know, he let me down. I was really mad when he died. He taught me a lot, I really loved him. A very good young man, a very good person. We shared many things together - women, music, songs, everything, you name it. We were boys! 

- Curtis Fuller

*Some Blue Note discographies for 1957 list the two Monk/Coltrane, Carnegie Hall recordings as Blue Note sessions. They were not and were only released on Blue Note in 2005. Therefore, they are not included as Blue Note sessions in this article.

All album releases refer to the original LP releases in the United States and Japan.

Special thanks to Sullivan Fortner, Pete Malinverni and Michael Weiss for kindly taking the time to express their most erudite thoughts on Mr. Clark for this article.