4 Significant as it is that the Manhattan Transfer has been around for 40 years, it is far more remarkable that those four decades have been marked by near-continuous artistic expansion and advancement. The Four Freshmen and the Hi-Los can statistically claim greater longevity, but the Manhattan Transfer must rightfully be credited as the most enduringly creative vocal group in jazz history. The key distinction, and the principal reason for the group’s sustainability, is that the Transfer has not simply built upon the foundation laid by the Freshmen and the Hi-Los. The Transfer has also drawn from all adjacent wells, cleverly appropriating everything from big-band swing and the bop-centric brilliance of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross to East Coast doo-wop and the West Coast intricacy of the Mel-Tones. Over the course of 23 albums (24 if you count the 1969 one-off Jukin’), bass Tim Hauser, alto Janis Siegel, tenor Alan Paul and soprano Cheryl Bentyne (who replaced Laurel Massé in 1976) have taken continuous detours, rarely making a wrong turn. Along the way, they’ve delivered more than their share of masterpieces, including the bold, vibrant <I>Pastiche</I> (with Massé) and the zoot-sharp <I>Swing</I>. But none, save the landmark Hendricks tribute Vocalese, can match the ingeniousness of <I>The Chick Corea Songbook</I>. In the liner notes, Siegel rightly describes it as a “magical and transformational odyssey.” It is less an album than a series of soul-stirring journeys, unfailingly respectful to their source while sagely retooled to take wing in fresh directions. Songbook opens and closes with a new Corea composition (featuring Corea himself on synthesizer), “Free Samba,” a transcontinental, perhaps even trans-planetary, exercise in soaring liberty that cleverly hints at the varied adventures it brackets. There is the innocent passage from birth to infancy shaped by Siegel and Bentyne around “Children’s Song 1,” arranged by Fred Hersch, whose gently tinkling keystrokes lead all four voices on a playful calliope ride. There is the dazzlingly cacophonous circus train, steered by Paul, which winds through “Pixiland Rag.” There is the spicy paella of Siegel’s “The Story of Anna & Armando” (based on “Armando’s Rhumba”) conveyed on waves of brass as it probes the deep passion of Corea’s parents. Hauser teams with lyricist Van Dyke Parks (the notorious, widely misunderstood eccentric who toiled with Brian Wilson on the ill-fated Smile) for the antithetical gems “One Step Closer” and “Another Roadside Attraction.” The first, based on “The One Step,” is a softly swinging world tour that ultimately crosses the Rubicon in pursuit of pure, lasting love; the other is a hypnotic, chant-fueled inner voyage built upon “Space Circus” to create an otherworldly carnival. Though Corea fans will recognize Neville Potter’s lyrics for “500 Miles High” and “Times Lie,” they’ll also surely appreciate the free-floating expansiveness of Michele Weir’s arrangement of the former (gorgeously accented by guest percussionist Alex Acuña) and the multilayered, Hersch-arranged joyousness of the unfettered latter. Familiarity reaches maximum comfort and inspiration on what languidly unfurls as a majestic meander through Corea and Al Jarreau’s “Spain,” propelled by fogged reveries of desire and punctuated by the suggestion of staccato heels on hardwood. Hauser and Paul have both commented that this project has been on the group’s backburner since the 1970s. Would a younger, less seasoned Manhattan Transfer have handled such material with the same care, precision and imagination? Not likely. It has required the interceding decades for the foursome to reach the necessary level of assured, relaxed maturation. In other words, to paraphrase Gloria Steinem, this is what 40 sounds like. true 204 2009-11-04T22:26:15-05:00 false 25275 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Significant as it is that the Manhattan Transfer has been around for 40 years, it is far more remarkable that those four decades have been marked by near-continuous artistic expansion and advancement. The Four Freshmen and the Hi-Los can statistically claim greater longevity, but the Manhattan Transfer must rightfully be credited as the most enduringly creative vocal group in jazz history. The key distinction, and the principal reason for the group’s sustainability, is that the Transfer has not simply built upon the foundation laid by the Freshmen and the Hi-Los. The Transfer has also drawn from all adjacent wells, cleverly appropriating everything from big-band swing and the bop-centric brilliance of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross to East Coast doo-wop and the West Coast intricacy of the Mel-Tones. Over the course of 23 albums (24 if you count the 1969 one-off Jukin’), bass Tim Hauser, alto Janis Siegel, tenor Alan Paul and soprano Cheryl Bentyne (who replaced Laurel Massé in 1976) have taken continuous detours, rarely making a wrong turn. Along the way, they’ve delivered more than their share of masterpieces, including the bold, vibrant Pastiche (with Massé) and the zoot-sharp Swing . But none, save the landmark Hendricks tribute Vocalese, can match the ingeniousness of The Chick Corea Songbook . In the liner notes, Siegel rightly describes it as a “magical and transformational odyssey.” It is less an album than a series of soul-stirring journeys, unfailingly respectful to their source while sagely retooled to take wing in fresh directions. Songbook opens and closes with a new Corea...

2009-11-07T11:01:00-05:00

4 Guitarist Johnny Smith always had a soft spot for the Rodgers & Hart show tune “Wait Till You See Her.” Smith enjoyed playing it in a solo setting, fancifully arranged with raked arpeggios, a moving bassline and a dramatic shift in tempo. Listening to the title track on John Abercrombie’s new CD, it’s clear he’s a sucker for the melody too, though his quartet’s interpretation is lean and low-key, as soulful as it is insinuating. Then again, that’s a not a bad description of the entire session, save for violinist Mark Feldman’s rhapsodic arcs and the sometimes kinetic interplay generated by Abercrombie, Feldman, bassist Thomas Morgan and drummer Joey Baron. Apart from the Rodgers & Hart theme, all the tunes were composed by Abercrombie and are distinguished by his expert touch, from the languid, minor-key blues “Sad Song,” deftly accented by Baron’s fluttering brushes, to the album’s richly textured and aptly titled coda, “Chic of Araby.” If Feldman is responsible for occasionally making the ensemble sound larger than it is—his double stops briefly suggest the presence of reeds or an accordion—he’s also once again cast as Abercrombie’s worthy foil, especially on the counter-riffing “Line-Up,” a reminder that you don’t need to chop away at extended chords to create some funk motion. In the end, while the eight performances gathered here provide plenty of room for soloing, nothing holds more rewards for the listener than the fully integrated (and exquisitely Baron-shaded) ensemble work true 110 2009-11-04T22:28:24-05:00 false 25276 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Guitarist Johnny Smith always had a soft spot for the Rodgers & Hart show tune “Wait Till You See Her.” Smith enjoyed playing it in a solo setting, fancifully arranged with raked arpeggios, a moving bassline and a dramatic shift in tempo. Listening to the title track on John Abercrombie’s new CD, it’s clear he’s a sucker for the melody too, though his quartet’s interpretation is lean and low-key, as soulful as it is insinuating. Then again, that’s a not a bad description of the entire session, save for violinist Mark Feldman’s rhapsodic arcs and the sometimes kinetic interplay generated by Abercrombie, Feldman, bassist Thomas Morgan and drummer Joey Baron. Apart from the Rodgers & Hart theme, all the tunes were composed by Abercrombie and are distinguished by his expert touch, from the languid, minor-key blues “Sad Song,” deftly accented by Baron’s fluttering brushes, to the album’s richly textured and aptly titled coda, “Chic of Araby.” If Feldman is responsible for occasionally making the ensemble sound larger than it is—his double stops briefly suggest the presence of reeds or an accordion—he’s also once again cast as Abercrombie’s worthy foil, especially on the counter-riffing “Line-Up,” a reminder that you don’t need to chop away at extended chords to create some funk motion. In the end, while the eight performances gathered here provide plenty of room for soloing, nothing holds more rewards for the listener than the fully integrated (and exquisitely Baron-shaded) ensemble work

2009-11-07T20:51:51-05:00

4 Last we heard from Harry Connick Jr., he was firing on all cylinders with the simultaneous release of <I>Oh My Nola</I> and <I>Chanson du Vieux Carré</I>, his twin-engine, high-octane homage to his hurricane-ravaged hometown. So it’s initially disconcerting to hear him take such a dramatic U-turn, downshifting to easy-glide for 14 covers that run a smooth gamut from Rodgers & Hammerstein to Bacharach & David. Connick’s widely stated intent was to indeed change gears and craft an album that focused on vocals. Much has been made of his unprecedented willingness to cede a degree of artistic control by collaborating with seasoned gold miner Clive Davis. Yes, Davis’ fingerprints are clearly evident, notably on the pop orientation of the playlist and the shifting of the needle away from jazz and toward easy listening. But Connick maintained controlling interest, writing all of the arrangements and orchestrations, overruling Davis’ objection of certain tunes (notably “Some Enchanted Evening,” easily the album’s best track) and encouraging longtime pals and frequent collaborators Wynton and Branford Marsalis to add guest solos on three tracks. Connick opens with “All the Way” and closes with “Mona Lisa,” songs that rank among the most beloved and familiar of the Frank Sinatra and Nat Cole canons. They are fitting bookends, since <I>Your Songs</I> is, stylistically and atmospherically, reminiscent of the now-classic albums that defined the Sinatra and Cole sounds throughout the late ’50s and early ’60s. It may not be what Connick’s hardcore jazz fans expect—or want. Nor, as he has firmly averred, is it a groove he intends to get stuck in. But it is an astute adaptation of a durable blueprint, constructed by a musical architect who has never settled for cookie-cutter replication, and likely never will. true 204 2009-11-04T22:31:55-05:00 false 25277 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Last we heard from Harry Connick Jr., he was firing on all cylinders with the simultaneous release of Oh My Nola and Chanson du Vieux Carré , his twin-engine, high-octane homage to his hurricane-ravaged hometown. So it’s initially disconcerting to hear him take such a dramatic U-turn, downshifting to easy-glide for 14 covers that run a smooth gamut from Rodgers & Hammerstein to Bacharach & David. Connick’s widely stated intent was to indeed change gears and craft an album that focused on vocals. Much has been made of his unprecedented willingness to cede a degree of artistic control by collaborating with seasoned gold miner Clive Davis. Yes, Davis’ fingerprints are clearly evident, notably on the pop orientation of the playlist and the shifting of the needle away from jazz and toward easy listening. But Connick maintained controlling interest, writing all of the arrangements and orchestrations, overruling Davis’ objection of certain tunes (notably “Some Enchanted Evening,” easily the album’s best track) and encouraging longtime pals and frequent collaborators Wynton and Branford Marsalis to add guest solos on three tracks. Connick opens with “All the Way” and closes with “Mona Lisa,” songs that rank among the most beloved and familiar of the Frank Sinatra and Nat Cole canons. They are fitting bookends, since Your Songs is, stylistically and atmospherically, reminiscent of the now-classic albums that defined the Sinatra and Cole sounds throughout the late ’50s and early ’60s. It may not be what Connick’s hardcore jazz fans expect—or want. Nor, as he has firmly averred, is it a...

2009-11-06T12:13:43-05:00

4 <I>Songs From the Heart</I> is, in a word, astonishing. It finds Ramsey Lewis, after 50 years playing R&B- and pop-laced jazz piano, reinventing himself as a composer—hence the subtitle, Ramsey Plays Ramsey. The trio disc (Larry Gray, bass; Leon Joyce, drums) contains 12 straightahead tunes of extraordinary delicacy, lyricism and finesse, all sounding thoroughly fresh. Gospel and classical have always been Lewis favorites, particularly the former, but classical takes the wheel here. That’s only natural, since two-thirds of Songs was originally commissioned for the Joffrey Ballet. Nonetheless, the Satie-like quiet of “Clouds in Reverie” and “Watercolors” is surprising, as is the formal precision of “To Know Her Is to Love Her” and the achingly lovely “Conversation.” He even nods to John Lewis, the great classical-to-jazz bridge-builder, in his bluesy but crisp attack on the romantic “The Glow of Her Charm.” Gospel still makes its presence known via “The Way She Smiles,” a happy stomp. Lewis does bring in something from his pop immersion: instantly memorable tunes. The funky “The Spark” sinks in so immediately it seems you’ve known it for years; ditto the lithe bossa-nova “Rendezvous.” Gray and Joyce have no small part in the catchiness; the bassist offers excellent arco work on “To Know Her Is to Love Her” and an irresistible double-stop line on “Exhilaration,” while Joyce simmers with gregarious fills on “The Way She Smiles” and rock-ish backbeats throughout. <I>Songs From the Heart</I> is likely to rise on first listen to the top of the year’s best-of lists—and stay there. true 10607 2009-11-04T22:34:28-05:00 false 25278 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

A late-blooming composer releases a collection of astounding originals

2009-11-15T14:17:38-05:00

4 Michael Brecker was such a powerful and masterful tenor saxophonist that one does not think of him as a composer. However, with the release of <I>The Comet’s Tail</I>, a set of eight Brecker compositions, one can make the case that he was almost as innovative in his writing as in his playing. The project had its genesis while Brecker was still alive. Chuck Owen, the professor of jazz studies at the University of South Florida and the artistic director of the USF Center for Jazz Composition, teamed up with Dave Stamps, the managing director of the center. They organized the International Jazz Arranging Competition in Honor of Michael Brecker in 2006. Fred Stride won the contest with his complex and colorful arrangement of “Peep.” Other arrangements were commissioned from Vince Mendoza and Gil Goldstein to augment charts written by Stamps and Owen. A series of concerts and recordings were planned and, while Brecker’s death in Jan. 2007 changed the initial mood of exhilaration, the music went on. Chuck Owen’s Jazz Surge, a 17-piece ensemble that has appeared on his previous CDs, forms the core of the musicians heard on <II>The Comet’s Tail</I>. Such guest soloists as trumpeter Randy Brecker, guitarist Mike Stern, Dave Liebman on tenor and soprano, tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano, vibraphonist Mike Mainieri, violinist Rob Thomas and drummers Danny Gottlieb and Adam Nussbaum make strong statements (Gottlieb is a regular member of the orchestra) and there are also passionate solos from tenor saxophonist Jack Wilkins, guitarist LaRue Nickelson, pianist Per Danielsson and trombonist Tom Brantley. While the individual solos are quite impressive, it is the ensemble playing and spirit of the full band that really stand out. The riotous and joyous “Itsbynne Reel” is one of many highlights. Needless to say, Michael Brecker would have loved this CD. true 330 2009-11-04T22:37:57-05:00 false 25279 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Michael Brecker was such a powerful and masterful tenor saxophonist that one does not think of him as a composer. However, with the release of The Comet’s Tail , a set of eight Brecker compositions, one can make the case that he was almost as innovative in his writing as in his playing. The project had its genesis while Brecker was still alive. Chuck Owen, the professor of jazz studies at the University of South Florida and the artistic director of the USF Center for Jazz Composition, teamed up with Dave Stamps, the managing director of the center. They organized the International Jazz Arranging Competition in Honor of Michael Brecker in 2006. Fred Stride won the contest with his complex and colorful arrangement of “Peep.” Other arrangements were commissioned from Vince Mendoza and Gil Goldstein to augment charts written by Stamps and Owen. A series of concerts and recordings were planned and, while Brecker’s death in Jan. 2007 changed the initial mood of exhilaration, the music went on. Chuck Owen’s Jazz Surge, a 17-piece ensemble that has appeared on his previous CDs, forms the core of the musicians heard on The Comet’s Tail . Such guest soloists as trumpeter Randy Brecker, guitarist Mike Stern, Dave Liebman on tenor and soprano, tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano, vibraphonist Mike Mainieri, violinist Rob Thomas and drummers Danny Gottlieb and Adam Nussbaum make strong statements (Gottlieb is a regular member of the orchestra) and there are also passionate solos from tenor saxophonist Jack Wilkins, guitarist LaRue Nickelson, pianist Per Danielsson and...

2009-11-07T20:46:59-05:00

4 Who said three’s the charm? There’s a lot to be said for those moments when the John Patitucci Trio isn’t acting alone on <I>Remembrance</I>, an intimate studio session that primarily finds the veteran bassist-composer-bandleader collaborating with reedman Joe Lovano and drummer Brian Blade. Take “Scenes From an Opera,” for example. It’s a performance that wouldn’t be nearly as evocative or soulful without the inspired input of cellist Sachi Patitucci, the bassist’s wife. Or “Meditations,” one of four arrangements on <I>Remembrance</I> deftly accented by percussionist Rogerio Boccato. Then, too, there’s the album’s title track to consider, a solo homage to the late Michael Brecker that makes haunting use of Patitucci’s six-string electric bass and six-string electric piccolo bass. Of course, that’s not to say that the teaming of Patitucci, Lovano and Blades doesn’t deliver on its promise. Remembrance may be dedicated to, as Patitucci puts it in his liner notes, “fellow musicians who have inspired us that have recently and not so recently departed this world,” but it’s scarcely a solemn affair. The trio performances capitalize on the ensemble’s great chemistry, each in a different light, starting with the rhythmically and harmonically skewed “Monk/Trane”; the insinuating stroll “Sonny Side,” a splendid showcase for Lovano’s robust and restless tenor; and “Blues for Freddie,” a jaunty postbop salute composed, like all the tunes here, by Patitucci. When it comes to regional flavoring, though, nothing proves tastier than the Boccato-augmented quartet performance of “Messaien’s Gumbo.” true 110 2009-11-04T22:40:53-05:00 false 25280 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Who said three’s the charm? There’s a lot to be said for those moments when the John Patitucci Trio isn’t acting alone on Remembrance , an intimate studio session that primarily finds the veteran bassist-composer-bandleader collaborating with reedman Joe Lovano and drummer Brian Blade. Take “Scenes From an Opera,” for example. It’s a performance that wouldn’t be nearly as evocative or soulful without the inspired input of cellist Sachi Patitucci, the bassist’s wife. Or “Meditations,” one of four arrangements on Remembrance deftly accented by percussionist Rogerio Boccato. Then, too, there’s the album’s title track to consider, a solo homage to the late Michael Brecker that makes haunting use of Patitucci’s six-string electric bass and six-string electric piccolo bass. Of course, that’s not to say that the teaming of Patitucci, Lovano and Blades doesn’t deliver on its promise. Remembrance may be dedicated to, as Patitucci puts it in his liner notes, “fellow musicians who have inspired us that have recently and not so recently departed this world,” but it’s scarcely a solemn affair. The trio performances capitalize on the ensemble’s great chemistry, each in a different light, starting with the rhythmically and harmonically skewed “Monk/Trane”; the insinuating stroll “Sonny Side,” a splendid showcase for Lovano’s robust and restless tenor; and “Blues for Freddie,” a jaunty postbop salute composed, like all the tunes here, by Patitucci. When it comes to regional flavoring, though, nothing proves tastier than the Boccato-augmented quartet performance of “Messaien’s Gumbo.”

2009-11-06T12:17:23-05:00

4 Ted Sirota’s agenda here is overtly political. “No powerful movement for change,” his liner notes tell us, “can succeed without an equally powerful cultural movement to inspire, lead and uplift the people.” To that end, this set includes compositions by the likes of Miriam Makeba, Charles Mingus, Brazil’s Caetano Veloso, and the Clash, as well as five by Sirota and various members of his ensemble. To achieve its purpose, this kind of music should either be imbued with righteous militancy to spur us into action, or inspire hope by providing a sonic representation of what a better world might feel like if we could bring it about. On “13 De Maio,” Veloso’s commemoration of the abolition of slavery in Brazil, saxophonists Greg Ward and Geof Bradfield signify back and forth, building in intensity until their dialogue approximates something akin to a freedom shout; guitarist Dave Miller sounds as if he’s replicating the timbre and percussiveness of steel drums in his solo. On Miriam Makeba’s “Polo Mze Pt. 1,” Miller’s electric barbed-wire leads mix with the dual-fueled saxophones to explode into incendiary shards of power and light. “Polo Mze Pt. 2,” Sirota’s funk-toughened complement to Makeba’s composition, is aggressive and forward-thrusting throughout. Elsewhere, though, the emotional level often seems oddly tepid––the Rebel Souls’ take on the Clash’s “Clampdown,” for instance, sounds more like a leisurely meditation than a liberationist manifesto. The original compositions, meanwhile, are pleasant, but hardly groundbreaking, exercises in mainstream contemporary jazz motifs. Only Ward’s funkified “The Keys to Freedom” manages to fully invoke both backstreet grit and jazz sophistication, if still not quite revolutionary fervor. true 323 2009-11-04T22:44:15-05:00 false 25281 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Ted Sirota’s agenda here is overtly political. “No powerful movement for change,” his liner notes tell us, “can succeed without an equally powerful cultural movement to inspire, lead and uplift the people.” To that end, this set includes compositions by the likes of Miriam Makeba, Charles Mingus, Brazil’s Caetano Veloso, and the Clash, as well as five by Sirota and various members of his ensemble. To achieve its purpose, this kind of music should either be imbued with righteous militancy to spur us into action, or inspire hope by providing a sonic representation of what a better world might feel like if we could bring it about. On “13 De Maio,” Veloso’s commemoration of the abolition of slavery in Brazil, saxophonists Greg Ward and Geof Bradfield signify back and forth, building in intensity until their dialogue approximates something akin to a freedom shout; guitarist Dave Miller sounds as if he’s replicating the timbre and percussiveness of steel drums in his solo. On Miriam Makeba’s “Polo Mze Pt. 1,” Miller’s electric barbed-wire leads mix with the dual-fueled saxophones to explode into incendiary shards of power and light. “Polo Mze Pt. 2,” Sirota’s funk-toughened complement to Makeba’s composition, is aggressive and forward-thrusting throughout. Elsewhere, though, the emotional level often seems oddly tepid––the Rebel Souls’ take on the Clash’s “Clampdown,” for instance, sounds more like a leisurely meditation than a liberationist manifesto. The original compositions, meanwhile, are pleasant, but hardly groundbreaking, exercises in mainstream contemporary jazz motifs. Only Ward’s funkified “The Keys to Freedom” manages to fully invoke both...

2009-11-07T20:46:33-05:00

4 Pop-culture junkies may recall that Terri Lyne Carrington was the drummer who held down the groove for the Posse on Arsenio Hall’s popular talk show from 1989 to 1994. She’s gained well-deserved respect since then for her composing and producing skills, not to mention her touring and session work with heavyweights like Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock. She’s released a few straightahead CDs overseas, but is calling her new one <I>More to Say</I>, a bookend to her 1989 Grammy-nominated debut, <I>Real Life Story</I>. How do we know this? Well, she’s subtitled the new project Real Life Story: NextGen. Arsenio would approve of Carrington’s latest, where the R&B, jazz, pop, rap and vocal songs fit nicely into an adult-contemporary and smooth-jazz framework. Carrington has signaled her shift from traditional to pop-jazz by enlisting such contemporary musicians as George Duke, Kirk Whalum, Lori Perry, Dwight Sills, Everette Harp, Chuck Loeb and more. If you know jazz and its various landscapes, you know where this is going. That established, <I>More to Say</I> mostly lacks modernity and edge. Carrington shows her smooth-jazz knowledge with “Sherwood Forest” and “Mesmerized,” and her blues acumen with “Hold Me Again,” where her pitch-perfect vocals contrast Les McCann’s smoky pipes. And her jazz background shines on “Imagine This,” with the wonderful Nancy Wilson supplying vocals. true 163 2009-11-04T22:47:27-05:00 false 25282 178 true 56 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Pop-culture junkies may recall that Terri Lyne Carrington was the drummer who held down the groove for the Posse on Arsenio Hall’s popular talk show from 1989 to 1994. She’s gained well-deserved respect since then for her composing and producing skills, not to mention her touring and session work with heavyweights like Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock. She’s released a few straightahead CDs overseas, but is calling her new one More to Say , a bookend to her 1989 Grammy-nominated debut, Real Life Story . How do we know this? Well, she’s subtitled the new project Real Life Story: NextGen. Arsenio would approve of Carrington’s latest, where the R&B, jazz, pop, rap and vocal songs fit nicely into an adult-contemporary and smooth-jazz framework. Carrington has signaled her shift from traditional to pop-jazz by enlisting such contemporary musicians as George Duke, Kirk Whalum, Lori Perry, Dwight Sills, Everette Harp, Chuck Loeb and more. If you know jazz and its various landscapes, you know where this is going. That established, More to Say mostly lacks modernity and edge. Carrington shows her smooth-jazz knowledge with “Sherwood Forest” and “Mesmerized,” and her blues acumen with “Hold Me Again,” where her pitch-perfect vocals contrast Les McCann’s smoky pipes. And her jazz background shines on “Imagine This,” with the wonderful Nancy Wilson supplying vocals.

2009-11-07T20:46:10-05:00

4 Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe expands with the first KDTU CD in seven years, one that takes Denson in a surprising new direction, veering sharply from jam-heavy funk and into a more personal style that bears the influences of Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye. Returning is guitarist Brian Jordan, but there’s a whole new lineup with Meshell Ndegeocello on bass, Kenneth Crouch on keys, Zak Najor on drums, Marc Ford (Black Crowes) on guitar and Laura Reed and Debrissa McKinney on backing vocals. <I>Brother’s Keeper</I> is poles apart from the Greyboy Allstars and KD3 jazz-funk trio. Denson is a wonderfully versatile saxophonist, but here it’s his vocals that make this one of the best retro-soul discs in recent years. Although the CD leads with the summer fun of “Shake It Out,” Denson steps into Marvin territory with “Brother’s Keeper” and “The Drums of War,” even if the latter is lyrically heavy-handed. Bob Marley earns an appreciative nod with the reggae rise-up anthem “Mighty Rebel,” which also throws a shout out to the Specials’ “Ghost Town.” And don’t miss “Monica,” a tempo-changing ditty about young love, getting older, experience, pride and a few others twists on life’s great roller-coaster. true 163 2009-11-04T22:50:23-05:00 false 25283 178 true 56 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe expands with the first KDTU CD in seven years, one that takes Denson in a surprising new direction, veering sharply from jam-heavy funk and into a more personal style that bears the influences of Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye. Returning is guitarist Brian Jordan, but there’s a whole new lineup with Meshell Ndegeocello on bass, Kenneth Crouch on keys, Zak Najor on drums, Marc Ford (Black Crowes) on guitar and Laura Reed and Debrissa McKinney on backing vocals. Brother’s Keeper is poles apart from the Greyboy Allstars and KD3 jazz-funk trio. Denson is a wonderfully versatile saxophonist, but here it’s his vocals that make this one of the best retro-soul discs in recent years. Although the CD leads with the summer fun of “Shake It Out,” Denson steps into Marvin territory with “Brother’s Keeper” and “The Drums of War,” even if the latter is lyrically heavy-handed. Bob Marley earns an appreciative nod with the reggae rise-up anthem “Mighty Rebel,” which also throws a shout out to the Specials’ “Ghost Town.” And don’t miss “Monica,” a tempo-changing ditty about young love, getting older, experience, pride and a few others twists on life’s great roller-coaster.

2009-11-07T20:45:43-05:00

4 Marcus Johnson’s a master at the sort of sophisticated, smooth piano jazz heard best underneath the chatter at late-night cocktails. But on his 11th CD he also keeps his ears tuned to what’s happening today, injecting enough urban-music staples to earn a sort of hip cachet. There’s also enough musical distinction to hold your interest. There are three types of tunes here: mellow smooth-jazz instrumentals with classy piano; instrumental tunes with piano and often sax riding on top of in-the-pocket beats and hand claps; and sophisticated vocal tunes. The first is marked by songs like “Danni’s Song,” “In the Moment,” “Ellicott City” and “This Place Hotel.” The best songs are the funkiest: “Chillaxin,” which may be Johnson’s catchiest song yet; “Cherish the Journey”; and two tunes that make excellent use of the vocoder, “I See You” and the sublime “Say Yes” with Devin (D Monet) Doyd. The vocal tunes are led by “Capice,” with the signature voice of hit R&B vocalist Miles Jaye, and “Master of My Heart,” with the sultry vocal stylings of Incognito’s Maysa. true 163 2009-11-04T22:52:00-05:00 false 25284 178 true 56 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Marcus Johnson’s a master at the sort of sophisticated, smooth piano jazz heard best underneath the chatter at late-night cocktails. But on his 11th CD he also keeps his ears tuned to what’s happening today, injecting enough urban-music staples to earn a sort of hip cachet. There’s also enough musical distinction to hold your interest. There are three types of tunes here: mellow smooth-jazz instrumentals with classy piano; instrumental tunes with piano and often sax riding on top of in-the-pocket beats and hand claps; and sophisticated vocal tunes. The first is marked by songs like “Danni’s Song,” “In the Moment,” “Ellicott City” and “This Place Hotel.” The best songs are the funkiest: “Chillaxin,” which may be Johnson’s catchiest song yet; “Cherish the Journey”; and two tunes that make excellent use of the vocoder, “I See You” and the sublime “Say Yes” with Devin (D Monet) Doyd. The vocal tunes are led by “Capice,” with the signature voice of hit R&B vocalist Miles Jaye, and “Master of My Heart,” with the sultry vocal stylings of Incognito’s Maysa.

2009-11-07T20:45:06-05:00

4 Get past the froufrou packaging, complete with chintz, lace, chenille and adorable, snoozing pups, and inside you’ll find the precise opposite: an album (or two, depending on which version you choose) of deceptive simplicity that is the quintessence of quiet elegance, exquisite taste and impeccable musical instincts. Not since the mid-’60s era of <I>Simply Streisand</I> and <I>The Third Album</I>, when the roots of her career-igniting cabaret and nightclub days still showed in her recordings, have Streisand’s inimitable storytelling skills been more astutely exercised. Sure, the crystalline purity of that singularly magnificent voice has grown slightly cloudy (though the deterioration is remarkably minimal). But such slight imperfection only serves to heighten the silken wallop of her interpretative abilities. Where once she would soar, she now stoops to conquer, newly appreciating that less can be more, a lesson reinforced by one of its sharpest practitioners, Diana Krall, who served as co-producer (with Tommy LiPuma) and advisor. Adapting to Krall’s approach, Streisand recorded 13 standards with just piano, bass, guitar and drums. Naturally, when you’re Barbra Streisand you’re provided only the very best, including arranger Johnny Mandel, bassist John Clayton, guitarist Anthony Wilson, drummer Jeff Hamilton and a rotating who’s who of pianists, including Krall, Tamir Hendelman, Alan Broadbent and Bill Charlap. (Orchestral backing, conducted by Bill Ross, was added later.) The single-disc version of <I>Love Is the Answer</I> features all 13 tracks with orchestra. The deluxe edition includes a second disc with the quartet-only versions of 12 of the selections. Though both are stunning, opt for the latter. Gems this glittering are best nestled in minimally ornate settings. true 204 2009-11-04T22:54:13-05:00 false 25285 178 true 60 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Get past the froufrou packaging, complete with chintz, lace, chenille and adorable, snoozing pups, and inside you’ll find the precise opposite: an album (or two, depending on which version you choose) of deceptive simplicity that is the quintessence of quiet elegance, exquisite taste and impeccable musical instincts. Not since the mid-’60s era of Simply Streisand and The Third Album , when the roots of her career-igniting cabaret and nightclub days still showed in her recordings, have Streisand’s inimitable storytelling skills been more astutely exercised. Sure, the crystalline purity of that singularly magnificent voice has grown slightly cloudy (though the deterioration is remarkably minimal). But such slight imperfection only serves to heighten the silken wallop of her interpretative abilities. Where once she would soar, she now stoops to conquer, newly appreciating that less can be more, a lesson reinforced by one of its sharpest practitioners, Diana Krall, who served as co-producer (with Tommy LiPuma) and advisor. Adapting to Krall’s approach, Streisand recorded 13 standards with just piano, bass, guitar and drums. Naturally, when you’re Barbra Streisand you’re provided only the very best, including arranger Johnny Mandel, bassist John Clayton, guitarist Anthony Wilson, drummer Jeff Hamilton and a rotating who’s who of pianists, including Krall, Tamir Hendelman, Alan Broadbent and Bill Charlap. (Orchestral backing, conducted by Bill Ross, was added later.) The single-disc version of Love Is the Answer features all 13 tracks with orchestra. The deluxe edition includes a second disc with the quartet-only versions of 12 of the selections. Though both are stunning, opt for the...

2009-11-10T16:00:59-05:00

4 It’s tough not to admire the pluck of the indie-jazz vocalist. He or she has chosen one of the thorniest of musical paths and is out there all alone, handling everything from bookings and album production to promotion and CD sales. Take Scot Albertson, now four albums into a slowly developing career and slugging as hard as one man can. Trouble is, as is often the case with indie projects, Albertson tries to paint on too broad a canvas. It’s as if, in assembling the 15 tunes for <I>With Every Note, a Step</I>, he’s determined to demonstrate everything he can do. The result is a sort of jazz/cabaret version of a Whitman sampler, with a few creamy ballads, a couple of darker numbers to chew on, a bit of whipped froth and even the occasional nutty addition. So we’re subject to such discordant pairings as Spike Jones’ silly “Pass the Biscuits, Mirandy” against Andrew Lloyd Webber’s grandiose “Music of the Night,” and the folk prayer “Hymn of the Highlands” beside a jaunty “Save the Bones for Henry Jones.” Albertson has a voice built for Broadway and the dexterity to go with it. Indeed, it seems a voice ideally shaped for the Rodgers & Hammerstein songbook (represented here only once, with a sweetly rendered “No Other Love”). If, on his next outing, he opted for such a narrower focus, it could result in a big step forward. true 204 2009-11-04T22:56:21-05:00 false 25286 178 true 60 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

It’s tough not to admire the pluck of the indie-jazz vocalist. He or she has chosen one of the thorniest of musical paths and is out there all alone, handling everything from bookings and album production to promotion and CD sales. Take Scot Albertson, now four albums into a slowly developing career and slugging as hard as one man can. Trouble is, as is often the case with indie projects, Albertson tries to paint on too broad a canvas. It’s as if, in assembling the 15 tunes for With Every Note, a Step , he’s determined to demonstrate everything he can do. The result is a sort of jazz/cabaret version of a Whitman sampler, with a few creamy ballads, a couple of darker numbers to chew on, a bit of whipped froth and even the occasional nutty addition. So we’re subject to such discordant pairings as Spike Jones’ silly “Pass the Biscuits, Mirandy” against Andrew Lloyd Webber’s grandiose “Music of the Night,” and the folk prayer “Hymn of the Highlands” beside a jaunty “Save the Bones for Henry Jones.” Albertson has a voice built for Broadway and the dexterity to go with it. Indeed, it seems a voice ideally shaped for the Rodgers & Hammerstein songbook (represented here only once, with a sweetly rendered “No Other Love”). If, on his next outing, he opted for such a narrower focus, it could result in a big step forward.

2009-11-06T12:16:31-05:00

4 That singer-pianist John Proulx bears a striking vocal similarity to the young Chet Baker was made undeniably apparent three years ago with the release of Proulx’s debut, Moon and Sand. Rather than deny or mask the resemblance, Proulx embraces it on this belated follow-up, paying tribute with a dozen standards from Baker’s mid-’50s repertoire plus one new, supposedly honorific composition (the upbeat “Before You Know It,” which suggests little knowledge of the moody, demonized Baker). But likeness doesn’t necessarily translate to like-mindedness. Proulx sings without shadows. Exploring sentiments gray or sunny, he exudes a fundamental sincerity, conveying precisely what the lyric intends. Baker was all about shadows. Seemingly cool detachment belied intense introspection as he bent the words to his will, carving undercurrents that could both enhance and obscure the song’s emotional intent. Consider the two songs Baker is most strongly associated with: Where Proulx’s “Let’s Get Lost” travels a breezy path of romantic escapism, Baker’s suggests a worldlier, more sexually charged motive; and while Proulx’s “My Funny Valentine” unfolds like the tender billet-doux it is, Baker’s is laced with haunted desperation that borders on sinister (its murky creepiness used to chilling effect by director Anthony Minghella in The Talented Mr. Ripley). Which isn’t to suggest that Proulx’s interpretations are in any way lacking. Indeed, his readings—particularly a calypso-esque “Look for the Silver Lining” and an “I Remember You” that rides a gentle bossa wave—are consistently clever and fresh. But they emulate Baker in name only. true 204 2009-11-04T22:58:06-05:00 false 25287 178 true 60 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

That singer-pianist John Proulx bears a striking vocal similarity to the young Chet Baker was made undeniably apparent three years ago with the release of Proulx’s debut, Moon and Sand. Rather than deny or mask the resemblance, Proulx embraces it on this belated follow-up, paying tribute with a dozen standards from Baker’s mid-’50s repertoire plus one new, supposedly honorific composition (the upbeat “Before You Know It,” which suggests little knowledge of the moody, demonized Baker). But likeness doesn’t necessarily translate to like-mindedness. Proulx sings without shadows. Exploring sentiments gray or sunny, he exudes a fundamental sincerity, conveying precisely what the lyric intends. Baker was all about shadows. Seemingly cool detachment belied intense introspection as he bent the words to his will, carving undercurrents that could both enhance and obscure the song’s emotional intent. Consider the two songs Baker is most strongly associated with: Where Proulx’s “Let’s Get Lost” travels a breezy path of romantic escapism, Baker’s suggests a worldlier, more sexually charged motive; and while Proulx’s “My Funny Valentine” unfolds like the tender billet-doux it is, Baker’s is laced with haunted desperation that borders on sinister (its murky creepiness used to chilling effect by director Anthony Minghella in The Talented Mr. Ripley). Which isn’t to suggest that Proulx’s interpretations are in any way lacking. Indeed, his readings—particularly a calypso-esque “Look for the Silver Lining” and an “I Remember You” that rides a gentle bossa wave—are consistently clever and fresh. But they emulate Baker in name only.

2009-11-06T12:16:13-05:00

4 On his third recording, pianist Aaron Choulai—a legally blind, albino, New Guinea-born twentysomething of startlingly eclectic descent—taps into a reservoir of deep feeling on an ultra-sensitive rendering of “You Go to My Head” and his own introspective compositions. His trio, with bassist Sam Anning and either Ben Vanderwal or Rory McDugall on drums, swings “I’ll Be Seeing You,” during which Choulai adopts a playful, Keith Jarrett-inspired deconstructionist aesthetic. The band also turns in fresh readings of Neil Young’s “Tell Me Why” and Radiohead’s “The Tourist.” true 21 2009-11-04T23:01:50-05:00 false 25288 178 true 125 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

On his third recording, pianist Aaron Choulai—a legally blind, albino, New Guinea-born twentysomething of startlingly eclectic descent—taps into a reservoir of deep feeling on an ultra-sensitive rendering of “You Go to My Head” and his own introspective compositions. His trio, with bassist Sam Anning and either Ben Vanderwal or Rory McDugall on drums, swings “I’ll Be Seeing You,” during which Choulai adopts a playful, Keith Jarrett-inspired deconstructionist aesthetic. The band also turns in fresh readings of Neil Young’s “Tell Me Why” and Radiohead’s “The Tourist.”

2009-11-06T12:16:13-05:00

4 Bassist Miriam Sullivan has reinvented herself as Mimi Jones, her singer-songwriter alter ego cast in something of a Cassandra Wilson-meets-Patrice Rushen vein, with a little bit of Esperanza Spalding on the side. For this rather startling transformation she is accompanied by versatile guitarist Marvin Sewell (a longtime Wilson sideman), pianist Miki Hayama, trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire (stunning on the hard-hitting “Suite Mary”) and the superb young drummer Marcus Gilmore. Mimi finds her voice on evocative originals like “Spiral” and “Mighty Time,” the mellow “Close Your Eyes,” the blues-drenched “Watch Your Step” and the funky “For Granted.” true 21 2009-11-04T23:04:27-05:00 false 25289 178 true 125 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Bassist Miriam Sullivan has reinvented herself as Mimi Jones, her singer-songwriter alter ego cast in something of a Cassandra Wilson-meets-Patrice Rushen vein, with a little bit of Esperanza Spalding on the side. For this rather startling transformation she is accompanied by versatile guitarist Marvin Sewell (a longtime Wilson sideman), pianist Miki Hayama, trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire (stunning on the hard-hitting “Suite Mary”) and the superb young drummer Marcus Gilmore. Mimi finds her voice on evocative originals like “Spiral” and “Mighty Time,” the mellow “Close Your Eyes,” the blues-drenched “Watch Your Step” and the funky “For Granted.”

2009-11-06T12:16:13-05:00

4 On the burning title track, Parisian-born saxophonist Alex Terrier comes out of the gate wailing on alto, with pianist Roy Assaf, bassist Francois Moutin and drummer Steve Davis providing interactive sparks along the way. They settle into more reflective terrain on “The Spirit Will Not Descend Without a Song” and the poignant “Departure,” then tackle the rhythmic puzzle “E.S.B. and Ecstasy.” Terrier is a compelling balladeer on tenor on “Song for Keli” and a first-rate composer on the stirring suite “Le Miroir Des Anges Deguises,” the lyrical “Tompkins Square” and the frantic closer, “The Dark Side of Democracy.” true 21 2009-11-04T23:06:04-05:00 false 25290 178 true 125 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

On the burning title track, Parisian-born saxophonist Alex Terrier comes out of the gate wailing on alto, with pianist Roy Assaf, bassist Francois Moutin and drummer Steve Davis providing interactive sparks along the way. They settle into more reflective terrain on “The Spirit Will Not Descend Without a Song” and the poignant “Departure,” then tackle the rhythmic puzzle “E.S.B. and Ecstasy.” Terrier is a compelling balladeer on tenor on “Song for Keli” and a first-rate composer on the stirring suite “Le Miroir Des Anges Deguises,” the lyrical “Tompkins Square” and the frantic closer, “The Dark Side of Democracy.”

2009-11-06T12:16:13-05:00