This is another record I inherited from my friend Bob Bob(ala). I’ve posted so many of his old records already that I think he needs his own tag. I confess that when I first looked at Ray Charles Live (1973, recorded in ‘58 and ‘59) I thought it was a decent addition to the collection, but didn’t expect it to rock my world. I was wrong. I’ve played this entire double album many times since I got it a few years back.
Ray Charles can tear the roof off any place and in a variety of styles. There is everything here from some swinging hard bop jazz instrumentals to classic blues soul numbers like “The Right Time.” In fact, there are two recordings of that song on here and it’s still not enough for me. When the Raylette Marjorie Hendricks starts screaming “BAAAY-BAAAYeee” repeatedly I get the goosebumps. The excellent notes inside the gatefold cover describe her singing as “powerful soulfulness-bordering-on-hysteria.” It doesn’t get any better than that for me.
I promised T. that I’d give the Heavy Duty treatment to some of the music in my collection at exactly the wrong time, work-wise. But I’m getting my head above water these days, so let’s pop the cork on this thing and see what happens.
I’ve always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with Wayne Shorter. I’m not a particular fan of his tone — straight and hard like John Coltrane’s often is, but a bit colder and more brittle than Trane’s. And I just can’t do fusion so, despite the high levels of musicianship, Weather Report gives me the jibblies.
But there was a time in the mid/late 60’s when Shorter was hard to touch, and Speak No Evil is one my favorites from that era. Recorded for Blue Note on Christmas Eve, 1964, it’s a tight little set of moody swing with a lot of dark undertones. With former Jazz Messengers band mate Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, long-time collaborator Herbie Hancock on keys, bassist Ron Carter, and Trane-band drummer extraordinaire Elvin Jones in Rudy Van Gelder’s studio, Shorter revealed himself to be one of the top, if not the top, composers in Jazz.
The first track, “Witch Hunt,” opens with a horn section flourish and then drops into a sweet groove for the head. Steely Dan clearly listened to “Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum” enough times for it to get into their DNA (of course, they’d later bring in Shorter to record on Aja). And while the title track basically vamps on one chord for large pieces of the composed sections, it’s a song that burrows deep into your head and finds a home there. The rest are less powerful, but give these three a shot (iTunes | Amazon) and you’ll be glad you did.
There’s just something about the early 1960s high society aesthetic, at least how it’s portrayed in movies of the time, that speaks to me. Modern, hip, glamorous and sleek, it’s a big part of the fun of watching The Pink Panther, early James Bond flicks, and other films from this time. A few years later, things started getting weird, heavy and psychedelic in movies and music. Not that there isn’t plenty of great art from the late ’60s. The cars, clothes, interiors, the jokes, the actors, and of course the music, all make this one of my favorite movies.
The Pink Panther was released in 1963. I got this soundtrack only a few years ago. I’ve always loved Henry Mancini’s score and “The Pink Panther Theme” has to be one of the swingingest jams ever. You probably have heard so much that you don’t even pay attention to it now. But you should. It’s a tiny music masterpiece, full of perfect punctuations as it steadily builds the layers of orchestration, and then sneaks off into the distance, but ends with one last exclamation point. Tears the roof off in less than three minutes!
Steel drums? Jazz? Sounds like Jonathan Scales has put together the music chocolate and peanut butter to come up with some ear candy that’s delicious and nutritious. Maybe there are other folks doing the same thing but how’s a virtual hermit like me to know? Sounds fresh either way, and I dig it. I got my copy from Andy, but you can check out the same songs at Mr. Scales MySpace page. Straight outta Asheville y’all!
JonScales.com
Like that tricky panoramic photograph? I can’t find a credit for the album art in the liner notes. Danny Gatton grew up in Southeast D.C. and this album title was his address. Anyone who is a serious student of guitar probably knows of Mr. Gatton, but I don’t think his audience ever got much broader than that. 88 Elmira St. came out in 1991 and it was his major label debut. The record has a little of everything that can be considered American roots music, including jazz, blues, rockabilly and funk. I have played this album at least 100 times and I’m still stunned by the imagination, soul and ferocious speed of his playing.
Danny Gatton committed suicide in 1994. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. His fans included Les Paul and Steve Vai. He was the guitarist’s guitarist.
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