Tadd Dameron with John Coltrane
Mating Call

Booker Ervin
The Freedom Book

Roy Hanes/Phineas Newborn/Paul Chambers
We Three

Roland Kirk with Jack McDuff
Kirk’s Work

Thelonious Monk Trio
Monk
Prestige/Rudy Van Gelder Remasters


These 5 reissues prove that you don’t need a lot of time if you have something important to say. Each of these reissues from the 50s and 60s carry a playing time of around 40 minutes, remarkably less than the present expectation of an hour plus, but each nanosecond counts on these treasures.

Underservedly underappreciated as a composer and arranger back in the nascent days of bebop, pianist Tadd Dameron put out only a handful of recordings in the 50s before his untimely death in 1965. This 56 session features a young John Coltrane working out his voice on Dameron classics like “Soultrane” and “On a Misty Night”. The rhythm section includes longtime stablemate Philly Joe Jones who mixes with Dameron on some exquisite interplay on “Gnid”. Trane and Philly mix it up quite well on “Super Jet”, and the feeling is fresh and lively throughout. All songs by Dameron have a memorable quality to them, and deserve a second and third hearing.

Once upon a time, tenor players did not all sound like John Coltrane or Michael Brecker. Booker Ervin, who made his name in Charles Mingus’ band in the late 50s, put out a series of “books” that show that he had not only his own sound, but his own complete style of playing and writing. Dry, with a touch of Texas holler, he put together a flexible working band with the likes of Jaki Byard (p) Richard Davis (b) and Alan Dawson (d) to create some intruiging, creative and moving music. Complex, yet accessible, songs like the harmonically complex “Cry Me Not” or the dirge like “A Day To Mourn” are light years ahead of their time in sophistication. “Stella By Starlight” shows that he can play close to the heart as well. Undeservedly ignored in America because he spent a good deal of his career in Europe, Ervin had a vision that most modern musicians would die for.

Only Roy Haynes is still alive from this 1958 trio recording, but he is going strong as an octogenarian. This disc feature the “up and coming” pianist Phineas Newborn who is prominently featured with all of his digital charms. The band is able to burn on songs like “Our Delight”; the drum work by Haynes on Ray Bryant’s “Sneakin’ Around” as he parlays with Newborn is a real treat as well. Newborn could handle anything from the Garner-esque “Sugar Ray” to the bluesy “Reflection” with ease and aplomb. This band, while short lived, was a solid working unit. A classic trio release.

While Roland Kirk may be better known for his work with Mingus, and for his avante/free excursions, at heart he was at home with the blues. This session with B3 Master Jack McDuff brings Kirk back to his roots. The band, with Art Taylor on drums is burning the grease nice and slowly. Kirk brings his wide palate of instruments and slides in smoothly on tunes like “Funk Underneath.” Kirk’s stritch solo on “Skater’s Waltz” is a thing to behold, and his tenor work throughout is as thick as molasses. A surprise find, and well worth keeping.

Monk had just Blue Note records a few years earlier, where he had put down a series of classic recordings. This disc consists of two separate sessions from 1952, with Gary Mapp or Percy Heath on bass, and Max Roach or Art Blakey supplying the drum work. At this point in his career, Monk was still the “mysterious high priest of bop”, just starting to be recognized by the jazz public. These trio recordings are some of his most overlooked, in comparison to his later more famous Riverside and Columbia sessions. They shouldn’t be ignored, as there is a lot of fervency and idiosyncracity on these discs that was later smoothed out in subsequent issues. “Little Rootie Tootie” and “Sweet and Lovely” are treated with a joyful innocence, with none of the later ennui that crept into his 60s recordings. The definitive trio of “Blue Monk”, stripped to its marrow, is presented here as well. Succinct, and to the point, these sessions point to a time when jazz was fearless.


-George W. Harris