Liner Notes

Dr. Billy Taylor defines jazz as "America's classical music".

Louis Armstrong said that jazz is "music that's never played the same way once."

When asked for a description of his music, Miles Davis was quoted as saying
"I'll play it first and tell you what it is later.

I offer, humbly, my own addition to the lexicon.

I say that jazz is a circle.

The great master works of Jazz Past coexist with the newest compositions on that circle, that continuum. As in European classical music, the great jazz works are always fertile territory for reinterpretation. Indeed, it is a vital part of the tradition for an artist to revisit his influences, to pay tribute to those who have gone before and thus to nourish the art form. It could be argued that jazz history inspires or informs every present-day musician, every new composition.

The jazz ensemble and its performance are also circles. As each point of the circle is equal and equidistant from the center, the contribution of each member of the group is of equal import, be it solo or accompaniment or even 'laying out'. The great jazz performance is circular as well in that each choice by the improvising soloist affects the options for his accompanists, which in turn alter the soloist's next phrase, and so on. The circular effect of this endless variation and instant reaction can be breathtaking. The observer might ask, where does that circle begin and where does it end?

Thus to the third part of my analogy: this recording represents one musician's return to his roots, a full circle. When I discovered jazz as a teenager in the late 1960's artists such as Miles Davis, Charles Mingus, John Coltrane, Wes Montgomery, Wayne Shorter and Oliver Nelson inspired the early steps of my musical journey. The eight performances on this recording are my very personal tribute to those great artists, both in music and in lyrics.

My very first experience of listening to jazz was a live recording of the Miles Davis Quintet that included Victor Feldman's Joshua. While intellectually I had no real understanding of what I was hearing, the raw energy, emotion and fearless self-expression captured my imagination. Miles' words have become my jazz mantra: "play what you hear, not what you know." Such was his influence throughout his life that a periodic reinvention of himself never failed to utterly transform the jazz landscape. Or as the lyric states, in tribute, "when Miles changed his sound, all the walls came tumbling down, down, down, down." The vocalese is based on the first chorus of Miles' solo on the recording Seven Steps to Heaven.

I was first exposed to the music of Charles Mingus by the late-night radio show of the legendary broadcaster and journalist Oscar Treadwell. The song was 'Eat That Chicken' and I was immediately captivated by the 'human soul music' of Mingus. Goodbye, Porkpie Hat was written by Mingus in 1959 as a tribute to Lester Young. According to Mingus, his group was on the bandstand at The Half Note when they heard the news that the great tenor saxophonist had died. They played a 'Blues for Lester' and it must have been extraordinary. Mingus said "I knew the guys would never do that again. I went home and wrote a blues the way I thought they were playing, with different types of chord changes, not just the regular blues." Twenty years later Mingus was confined to a wheel-chair, dying of Lou Gehrig's Disease.He and Joni Mitchell were collaborating on what was to be her 1979 album titled Mingus. Joni was living in New York while they worked together; she had struggled for three months to write a lyric for Goodbye, Porkpie Hat. Late one night she and percussionist Don Alias came up from the subway to see "black babies dancing" in front of a crowded bar named 'Porkpie Hat Bar.' Her inspired lyric was a tribute to Lester and Charles, but also an eloquent commentary on race in America. This particular product of two great artists is, I believe, a masterpiece within a masterpiece. The vocalese is based on John Handy's tenor sax solo on the original recording, Mingus Ah Um.

Bob Dorough is most widely known for his music for television's Schoolhouse Rock. He is self-described as "the first and last halfway decent singer to appear on a Miles Davis recording." That recording was Sorcerer and the song Nothing Like You, written by Bob Dorough and Fran Landesman. I experienced something akin to musical whiplash when the final track came on: there was no piano, no solos, a three-horn arrangement by Gil Evans and (gasp!) a vocal. The lyric is a wonderfully over-the-top expression of amour that certainly merits its subtitle "An Extravagant Love Song."

Stolen Moments by Oliver Nelson became an instant standard when it appeared on his 1961 recording Blues and the Abstract Truth. I feel his influence on a generation of jazz musicians is often overlooked. His music was forward-looking but always, always, drenched in the blues. Mark Murphy's lyric in 1978 brilliantly reinvented the piece and established a new benchmark for jazz lyricists. This arrangement is a tribute to both great jazz artists.

So Near, So Far by Benny Green and Tony Crombie is another favorite of mine from the Miles Davis Quintet. The original arrangement of the tune is a puzzle of perfectly fitted parts: lyrical melody, angular counter-melody, a third melody in the bass line and a churning, rhythmically complex underpinning. Seven Steps to Heaven from 1963 also marks the first recording by Miles to include Tony Williams, Herbie Hancock and Ron Carter. The lyric is dedicated to separated lovers everywhere.

Almost anyone's list of top jazz ballad recordings would have to include John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman; the list of greatest jazz ballads would have to begin with Billy Strayhorn's Lush Life. Strayhorn wrote the tune while he was still in his teens, though one would swear it was the product of a much older, world-weary soul. Coltrane's sense of graceful, understated expression taught me another way to approach playing a ballad. The arrangement on this recording is a tribute to both great artists.

Wes Montgomery changed everything for jazz guitarists in the 1960's. I first heard Unit Seven by bassist Sam Jones on Wes' recording Smokin' at the Half Note with the Wynton Kelly Trio. Montgomery's prodigious technique, seemingly endless creativity and his impeccable sense of swing keep me listening today. The lyrics were written by a former band mate of mine, vocalist Ron Boustead. In Ron's mind, Unit Seven is a jazz club, 'a groovy little place' where cats of every bent can improvise; high or low, fast or slow, out or in, thick or thin - it's no sin! The shout chorus guitar/vocal duet is based on parts of Wes' solo on the aforementioned album.

Wayne Shorter's Footprints epitomizes for me his compositional style - melodies that seem to have just been improvised, an elegance and economy of form and endless improvisational possibilities. I love his writing (and playing) for what he leaves out as much as for what he puts in. The song lyric is borrowed from a version recorded by vocalist Tricia Tahara. The vocalese lyric might be called an 'existential rant' and was inspired by Ms. Tahara's interpretation.

In closing I will return to my earlier analogy to thank the circle of friends and artists who gave their gifts and talents to this recording. I would also like to express my hope that the experienced jazz listener will be inspired to 'circle back' to his favorites for another listen, and that those of you new to jazz might find these great songs and artists to be the starting point of your own journey of discovery.

Liner Notes by Steve Hoskins