1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (361-380)
December 12, 2009Here is another 20 to add to the list.
Remember that there is no ranking system here, and if you don’t see your favorite jazz album yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t show up.
Every week I will offer up twenty more, in no particular order and with no ranking system or common theme (other than jazz of course).
Hopefully these lists will inspire you to seek some of these albums out that perhaps you haven’t heard before, or revisit an old favorite. And as always, we want your thoughts on any or all of these albums. Either way, let’s get started with this week, and in no particular order, albums 361 through 380.
361.
This Bud’s For You – Bud Shank (32 Jazz, 1984)
362.
What If? – Kenny Barron (Enja, 1986)
363.
No Room for Argument - Wallace Roney (Concord Jazz, 2000)
364.
The Adventures of Astral Pirates – Lenny White (Elektra, 1978)
365.
Blues for Myself – Cedar Walton (RED Distribution, 1986)
366.
On the Trail – Jimmy Heath (Riverside/OJC, 1964)
367.
Midnight Blue – Kenny Burrell (Blue Note, 1963)
368.
Let it Go – Stanley Turrentine (Impulse!, 1966)
369.
I’ve Got a Woman – Jimmy McGriff (Collectables Records, 1962)
370.
Agharta – Miles Davis (Columbia, 1975)
371.
Jumpin’ In – Dave Holland (ECM Records, 1983)
372.
Keep Swingin’ - Julian Priester (Riverside/OJC, 1960)
373.
J.J. Inc. – J.J. Johnson (Columbia/Legacy, 1960)
374.
Blowing In From Chicago – Clifford Jordan and John Gilmore (Blue Note, 1957)
375.
Live at Montreux and Northsea – Art Blakey (Absord, 1980)
376.
The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born – Branford Marsalis (Columbia, 1991)
377.
Coltrane Plays the Blues – John Coltrane (Rhino, 1960)
378.
Brussels Fair ‘58 – Sidney Bechet (Lone Hill Jazz, 1958)
379.
The Color Five – Jacqui Naylor (Ruby Star Records, 2006)
380.
Soul on Soul – Dave Douglas (RCA Victor, 2000)
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (341-360) The Holiday Edition
A Fly on the Studio Wall
December 7, 2009One of the great things about being in my job is having the opportunity to interview world-class musicians, or introduce them on stage at concerts. Of course the chance to hear them play live right in front of me, or learn interesting things about them during an interview is amazing, but for me the most entertaining part is the discussions that happen before the tape is rolling or before the show begins.
This is the time where, even if it is only a sentence or two, I feel you can really get the coolest story of the event.
I have yet to run into sax man Joshua Redman in a bad mood backstage. He remembers names, asks about other people at the radio station by name and tells me to say hello to them for him.
While walking on stage to introduce Wynton Marsalis, one of his band members told me to wait a second because he wanted to know where the best place to eat after the show was.
The late Michael Brecker made it clear to me multiple times in one interview, after complimenting his recordings, that if I really wanted to enjoy his music, “you need to hear that **** live.”
And the great Clark Terry, after a wonderful interview and performance, was kind enough to join some of the staff and listeners for a sandwich. God bless him, as he fell asleep while I was in the middle of a sentence. In his defense, most people start falling asleep when I talk too much.
Thinking about this made me start wondering about all of the great conversations and interactions that took place “off-mic” in recording sessions that we never got to hear.
For example, to be a fly on the wall, Christmas Eve, 1954. Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk are in a recording session that reportedly almost came to blows because Miles didn’t want Monk playing during his solos. Give their recording of The Man I Love a listen, and you can almost hear the animosity. I would have loved to hear that conversation take place.
Or perhaps some studio sessions with slightly less violent interactions. How about Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington (or any recording session with either of those two guys)? I can only imagine the conversations that took place when the tape wasn’t rolling.
Certainly there are many sessions that would have been great to be a fly on the wall for, and no doubt that with all of the ones that are racing through my mind right now, I am probably forgetting some that would have been the best.
I invite you to share who you would have liked to overhear in the studio when the microphones were off.
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (341-360) The Holiday Edition
December 5, 2009With the holidays approaching, I’ve decided this week that the twenty albums we add to the list will be made up entirely of holiday jazz albums.
I am not a huge fan of a lot of Christmas jazz, but there are some well done albums that are worthy of being part of this list. A note: Duke Ellington’s Three Suites featuring the wonderful Nutcracker Suite would certainly be included on this list of holiday albums, but I already have it posted earlier in the “1,000″ series, so no sense in posting it twice. That being said…
Here is another 20 to add to the list.
Remember that there is no ranking system here, and if you don’t see your favorite jazz album yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t show up.
Every week I will offer up twenty more, in no particular order and with no ranking system or common theme (other than jazz of course).
Hopefully these lists will inspire you to seek some of these albums out that perhaps you haven’t heard before, or revisit an old favorite. And as always, we want your thoughts on any or all of these albums. Either way, let’s get started with this week, and in no particular order, albums 341 through 360.
341.
A Charlie Brown Christmas – Vince Guaraldi (Fantasy, 1965)
342.
Crescent City Christmas Card – Wynton Marsalis (Sony Music Distribution, 1990)
343.
Django Bells – The Gypsy Hombres (Memphis International, 2002)
344. Ella Wishes You A Swinging Christmas – Ella Fitzgerald (Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab, 1960)
345.
Jingle Bell Jazz (Compilation) – Various Artists (Columbia, 1990)
346.
Smashed For The Holidays – Jacqui Naylor (Ruby Records, 2007)
347.
Sound of Christmas – Ramsey Lewis (Chess, 1961)
348.
Christmas Jazz Jam – Wynton Marsalis (Somerset Entertainment, 2009)
349.
Have Yourself a Soulful Little Christmas – Kenny Burrell (Verve, 1966)
350.
20th Century Masters – The Christmas Collection: The Best of Louis Armstrong – Louis Armstrong (Hip-O Records, 2003)
351.
Christmas Time is Here – Dianne Reeves (Blue Note Records, 2004)
352.
Christmas ‘64 – Jimmy Smith (Verve, 1964)
353.
A Merry Christmas! – Stan Kenton (Capitol Jazz, 1963)
354.
The Spirit of Christmas – Ray Charles (Rhino, 1985)
355.
Christmas Songs with the Ray Brown Trio – Ray Brown (Telarc Distribution, 1999)
356.
Jazz For Joy (Compilation) – Various Artists (Polygram, 1996)
357.
A Swingin’ Christmas – Tony Bennett with the Count Basie Big Band (RPM, 2008)
358.
Christmas with Jimmy McGriff – Jimmy McGriff (Collectible Records, 1964)
359.
Christmas Songs – Diana Krall (Verve, 2005)
360.
Merry Christmas From Doc Severinsen and The Tonight Show Orchestra – Doc Severinsen (Amherst Records, 1991)
Jaki Byard Calls BS – A jazz reminiscence by Dick Stein
December 3, 2009
Jazz host Dick Stein, one of my colleagues at KPLU, was kind enough to submit this posting. Dick is an excellent storyteller, so I am sure you will enjoy the following post. You can hear his program, Midday Jazz, weekdays from 9 AM to noon PST on 88.5 KPLU if you are in the Seattle/Tacoma broadcast area, or online at www.kplu.org.
Jaki Byard Calls BS
A jazz reminiscence by Dick Stein
One night in New York City a long time ago I was in search of a last gasp of civilization before a taking up a year’s exile at an Air Force radar site in the Bering Sea. I found it – and more — at The Dom, an East Village Jazz joint where pianist Jaki Byard’s quartet was playing.
I’d known of and admired Jaki Byard from his time with the Maynard Ferguson orchestra in the early ‘60s. That night at The Dom his group was playing hard-driving, straight ahead jazz and I was soaking it up right by the bandstand. Good as it was, the evening’s real entertainment didn’t begin until Byard called the break.
While Jaki leaned against the bar his sax player Clarence “C” Sharp took the spare chair at my table. As we chatted a drum and clarinet duo stepped up to play. Then as now there were many bad clarinet players, myself among them, working their mischief in this world. Even so, this abuser was a contender for Most Squeakalacious. The sounds he was producing bore no relationship to music as understood by Earthlings.
I could only speculate at what the audience thought about the sonic assault but judging from their carefully held rapt expressions and knowing nods, cynical old me thought it must have been “This is so sophisticated that it sounds like noise to me. I’ll pretend I understand it so I won’t look like a square.”
Sharp, a first rate alto player was of course not taken in. He and I were having a fine time rolling our eyes and grimacing in mock agony when Byard’s bellow blasted from the bar.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” He’d been drinking a little.
“Uh-oh” grinned Sharp, all but rubbing his hands together. “Here we go.” The duo’s drummer, not one for confrontations, slipped out from behind his Silvertone snare and quietly made his way to the back of the room. Clarinet Guy looked surprised. He’d probably been getting away with this stuff just fine elsewhere. What the hell was this, indeed?
“Hey man, I’m just tryin’ to play my music…”
“Music!” sneered Byard. “That’s not music. That’s crap!”
A collective gasp went up from the audience. Clarence gleefully elbowed my ribs. Clarinet Guy toughed it out. “Just ’cause you can’t understand these kinds of advanced musical concepts, man…”
He really shouldn’t have said that.
I’d heard that Jaki Byard had studied with the legendary Madame Chaloff in Boston. He would go on to become Professor Byard at the New England Conservatory and Manhattan School of Music among others. He could play all styles of jazz and to say the least knew advanced musical concepts very well indeed. He also knew advanced musical baloney when he heard it.
“‘Advanced’ my ass!” he sneered. “You can’t play that thing at all. Hell, I bet you couldn’t blow a simple 12-bar blues. Here — I’ll even comp you.” He charged to the bandstand, sat down at the piano and began chording a blues.
Seconds into this Trial by Byard it became apparent to even the most determined would-be hipsters that Clarinet Guy had no musical ability at all. He was, in fact, a kind of melodic black hole from which no music could escape. Next to him even I, the world’s 2nd worst clarinet player would have sounded like Artie Shaw.
Clarinet Guy’s agony was brief. The previously deferential crowd now turned mean, adding their laughter and boos to Byard’s hilariously profane running critique. CG bolted from the bandstand and fled into the East Village night, his humiliated exit both cringe-worthy and deeply satisfying all at the same time. Clarence and the rhythm returned to the bandstand. Byard took a little noblesse oblige bow, counted off “Jordu” and wham — the evening rocked on.
I never heard of or saw Clarinet Guy again after that night but it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he’d given up music for a career in politics.
# # #
Postscript: Pianist, saxophonist, trumpeter, composer, arranger, bandleader and teacher John “Jaki” Byard was found dead of a gunshot wound in his New York apartment in 1999. The circumstances surrounding his death have never been determined.
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (321-340)
November 21, 2009Here is another 20 to add to the list.
Remember that there is no ranking system here, and if you don’t see your favorite jazz album yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t show up.
Every week I will offer up twenty more, in no particular order and with no ranking system or common theme (other than jazz of course).
Hopefully these lists will inspire you to seek some of these albums out that perhaps you haven’t heard before, or revisit an old favorite. And as always, we want your thoughts on any or all of these albums. Either way, let’s get started with this week, and in no particular order, albums 321 through 340.
321.
Atlantis – Sun Ra (Evidence, 1969)
322.
Western Suite – Jimmy Giuffre (WEA, 1958)
323.
Explorations – Bill Evans (Riverside/OJC, 1961)
324.
Modern Times – Steps Ahead (Elektra, 1984)
325.
Fanfare For the Warriors -The Art Ensemble of Chicago (Koch Jazz, 1973)
326.
Black, Brown, and Beige – Mahalia Jackson/Duke Ellington Orchestra (Columbia/Legacy, 1958)
327.
Carnegie Hall Concert – Toshiko Akiyoshi with Lew Tabackin (Columbia, 1991)
328.
Shaking Free – Nnenna Freelon (Concord Jazz, 1996)
329.
Concert By the Sea – Erroll Garner (Columbia, 1955)
330.
Epitaph – Charles Mingus (Columbia, 1990)
331.
Journey in Satchidananda – Alice Coltrane (Impulse!, 1971)
332.
Naked City – John Zorn (Elektra/Nonesuch, 1989)
333.
Straight Ahead – Abbey Lincoln (Candid, 1961)
334.
Ellis in Wonderland – Herb Ellis (Verve, 1956)
335.
Sir Elf – Sir Roland Hanna (Choice, 1974)
336.
Black Codes (From the Underground) – Wynton Marsalis (Columbia, 1985)
337.
Brother Red – Red Holloway (Prestige Recordings, 1964)
338.
Wish – Joshua Redman (Warner Bros., 1993)
339.
Don’t Go to Strangers – Etta Jones (Original Jazz Classics, 1960)
Missing Michael Brecker
November 14, 2009
If you’ve read my blog or carried on any conversation about jazz with me, I make it no mystery that I have a certain affection for the late saxophonist Michael Brecker.
It is rare that much time goes by where I don’t drag fellow jazz host Robin Lloyd in to hear a track that I recently found that features Brecker, or that I don’t go on a massive hunt for a missing DAT that holds an interview I did with him at Jazz Alley before one of his concerts.
The response I get from some isn’t always positive. When I chose to name Brecker as one of the tenors in my “Dream Big Band” along side John Coltrane over the likes of Wayne Shorter, Stan Getz, or Branford Marsalis (see Building a Dream Big Band Part III: The Sax Section) many scoffed and suggested that I was choosing a commercial studio sax player over a “true legend”.
The purpose of this entry is not to try and justify my reasons for my favoritism of Michael Brecker. Instead, I simply want to continue to remember a musician that had such an increadible impact on me, nearly three years after he lost his battle with MDS.
It is true that, for much of his career, Michael was a studio musician. There are those out there that feel that you are less of a jazz musician if you spent time as a studio musician recording for large commercial rock albums. Brecker is credited on hundreds and hundreds of recordings, including Paul Simon’s Still Crazy After All These Years, Aerosmith’s Get Your Wings, and Bruce Springsteen’s Born To Run, some of the most legendary albums in history. Does this make him less of a jazz musician because he worked for rock stars?
Of course not. But recording for these records is not what Brecker will be remembered for.
Michael Brecker, as far as I am concerned, should be best remembered for making it clear to a generation of musicians, my generation, that jazz is not your grandparents music. Furthermore, young musicians, not just sax players, had a model musician not only to inspire them, but to show them that they didn’t need to be a jock to be cool.
And that is what Michael Brecker did. He, like Coltrane, would routinely rip mind-blowing solos that were so intense and complex that it might overwhelm you, but were so impressive that you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head in disbelief when hearing them. And, like Coltrane, there was a suggestion that Brecker wasn’t a “ballad guy”, until of course, he recorded ballads, and put that rumor to rest. Let’s not forget, he is also credited with 14 Grammy awards.
There are still great tenor saxophonists recording today. Branford Marsalis might be the most artistic musician in jazz, and along side trumpeter Terrance Blanchard, Joshua Redman is easily the coolest musician in jazz, both in personality and sound.
But I remember during an interview I conducted with Joshua Redman, I asked him to play a game with me. I would name a saxophonist, and he would say the first word that came to his mind. When I sad “Sonny Rollins”, Redman said “Colossus”. When I said “Michael Brecker”, his response was over 100 words.
Brecker doesn’t have to be your favorite sax player. But give him a listen. Try Tumbleweed of the album Pilgrimage, perhaps the best jazz album of the last 20 years. Or find a live recording of Some Skunk Funk. My hope is that you will respond the same way my old roommate, a huge rap fan did after hearing Brecker. His only word, after picking his jaw up of the ground, was “wow”.
Below, a solo that earned him one of his Grammy Awards.
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (301-320)
November 14, 2009Here is another 20 to add to the list.
Remember that there is no ranking system here, and if you don’t see your favorite jazz album yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t show up.
Every week I will offer up twenty more, in no particular order and with no ranking system or common theme (other than jazz of course).
Hopefully these lists will inspire you to seek some of these albums out that perhaps you haven’t heard before, or revisit an old favorite. And as always, we want your thoughts on any or all of these albums. Either way, let’s get started with this week, and in no particular order, albums 301 through 320.
301.
Red Clay – Freddie Hubbard (CBS, 1970)
302.
The Jody Grind – Horace Silver (Blue Note, 1966)
303.
Where Were You? – Joey DeFrancesco (Columbia, 1990)
304.
Contrasts – Bucky & John Pizzarelli (Arbors, 1999)
305.
Sunday at the Village Vanguard – Bill Evans (Riverside/OJC, 1961)
306.
Red Alone – Red Garland (Original Jazz Classics, 1960)
307.
Hot Fives, Vol. 1 (compilation) – Louis Armstrong (1925-26 recording dates, 1988 release date)
308.
Off the Record: The Complete 1923 Jazz Band Recordings (compilation) – King Oliver (1923 recording tates, 2007 release date)
309.
I Remember – Dianne Reeves (Blue Note, 1992)
310.
Mood Changes – Grace Kelly (Pazz, 2008)
311.
Back at the Chicken Shack – Jimmy Smith (Blue Note, 1960)
312.
I Can’t Help It – Betty Carter (GRP, 1961)
313.
Benny Golson’s New York Scene – Benny Golson (1957)
314.
Anita Sings the Most – Anita O’ Day (Verve, 1957)
315.
Krupa and Rich – Gene Krupa (Verve, 1955)
316.
Just You Just Me, Live in 1959 – Roy Eldridge and Coleman Hawkins (Stash, 1959)
317.
Yes, The Blues – Clark Terry (Pablo, OJC, 1981)
318.
Seven Steps to Heaven – Ray Brown (Telarc, 1995)
319.
April in Paris – Count Basie (Verve, 1956)
320.
Reunion – Paquito D’ Rivera with Arturo Sandoval (Messidor, 1990)
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (281-300)
November 9, 2009Here is another 20 to add to the list.
Remember that there is no ranking system here, and if you don’t see your favorite jazz album yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t show up.
Every week I will offer up twenty more, in no particular order and with no ranking system or common theme (other than jazz of course).
Hopefully these lists will inspire you to seek some of these albums out that perhaps you haven’t heard before, or revisit an old favorite. And as always, we want your thoughts on any or all of these albums. Either way, let’s get started with this week, and in no particular order, albums 281 through 300.
281.
After Hours with Miss D – Dinah Washington (1954)
282.
Ellington Uptown – Duke Ellington (Sony, 1953)
283.
Jam Session – Clifford Brown (Emarcy, 1954)
284.
Blue Rose – Rosemary Clooney (Columbia, 1956)
285.
Brilliant Corners – Thelonious Monk (Riverside/OJC, 1957)
286.
Cherokee – Charlie Barnet (Bluebird, 1958)
287.
Mingus Revisited – Charles Mingus (Emarcy, 1960)
288.
Q Live in Paris Circa 1960 -Quincy Jones (Warner Bros., 1960)
289.
Really Big! – Jimmy Heath (Riverside/OJC, 1960)
290.
Genius + Soul = Jazz – Ray Charles (DCC, 1960)
291.
The Centaur and the Phoenix – Yusef Lateef (Riverside/OJC, 1961)
292.
Smooth as the Wind – Blue Mitchell (Original Jazz Classics, 1961)
293.
Down Home – Sam Jones (Original Jazz Classics, 1962)
294.
Letter from Home – Eddie Jefferson (Riverside/OJC, 1962)
295.
Hobo Flats – Jimmy Smith (Verve, 1963)
296.
Live at Newport – McCoy Tyner (Impulse!, 1963)
297.
You Better Know it!!! – Lionel Hampton (Japanese Import, 1964)
298.
Joyride – Stanley Turrentine (Blue Note, 1965)
299.
The Further Adventures of Jimmy and Wes – Jimmy Smith and Wes Montgomery (Verve, 1966)
300.
Every Day I have the Blues - Jimmy Rushing (Impulse!, 1967)
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (261-280)
1,000 Jazz Albums You Should Hear Before You Die (241-260)
An Afternoon with Eldar
November 1, 2009
Last Tuesday, I had the opportunity to interview 22 virtuoso pianist, Eldar, who also performed live during the interview. Eldar talked about his family’s move from Kyrgyzstan to Kansas City as a child, and how much he learned from that city’s veteran jazz musicians. Eldar also showcased his improvisational and compositional skills with three solo piano pieces, I Should Care, Insensitive and his own Vanilla Sky/Exposition.
Eldar turned out to be one of the nicest, most enthusiastic musicians that I have interviewed to date (especially for someone who had just flown in from Ireland the day before). And as you might expect, his playing was amazing.
Below is a video of his performance of a medley of his tunes Vanilla Sky/Exposition. To hear the entire interview and performance, click here.
Posted by Kevin Kniestedt
Posted by Kevin Kniestedt
Posted by Kevin Kniestedt 

