Delmark 563
Agenda-driven reviews have a knack for clenching reader jaws and leaving behind a bitter taste. I’m not an apologist for the critic who cuts a slab from the chip on his shoulder and uses it as the bedrock for his appraisal of a disc. That said, this new Sonny Stitt reissue on Delmark touches on several of the issues that have swirled around lately in the tide pools at Bags. Listening to Stitt effortlessly slalom the changes on ten compact standards that were carrying the signs of calcification even back in 1969 when this studio session was set to tape, the light bulbs behind the contentious “jazz is dead” marquee necessarily switch-on in the mind’s window. Stitt cut a preponderance of albums like this one. The Mosaic set covering his residence at the Roost label gathers nine full discs of similar standards-grounded material, mostly with a piano-guided rhythm section at his flank. Do these readings really vary all that much from current interpretations by the likes of Kenny Garrett or Jim Snidero? Even the disc’s anonymous liners trample well-trodden terrain.
Then there’s the issue of reissues as the self-renewing monkey wrench to the sales of recently recorded jazz. How will this Stitt set, now 36 years in the can, affect the peddling of new albums? Is the discerning bop consumer likely to overlook the latest efforts of say, George Coleman or David “Fathead” Newman for this LP-sized slice from a peer nearly a quarter century in the ground? My gut says no, but Coleman, Newman and other aged jazz royalty still trying to survive in the game might argue otherwise.
Despite a prolificacy that was sometimes more detriment than benefit, Stitt was never a mossback. Any artifice or vapidity in his playing was a function of boredom or the desire for the quick buck back-to-back studio sessions and tour gigs with pick-up bands could bring. His association with organist Don Patterson, documented extensively on a spate of 60s dates for Prestige, was a rewarding one. Patterson could play convincing bop, but also had his mitts in even more contemporary bags that gently pushed Stitt to the edges of his comfort zone. Drummer Billy Pierce suffers from some unforgiving miking and a magnetic attraction to his ride cymbal, but also conjures the occasionally intriguing accent or roll.
Stitt jockeys confidently between tenor and alto, sounding warm and graceful on the former, velocious and uncluttered on the latter. The notes posit the presence of Varitone, but its subtle patina rounds off Stitt’s edges only slightly. Leadership has its privileges and he grabs the bulk of solo space. A keen melodic sense unwaveringly dictates the action on tunes like the opening “Four,” a dusky rendering of “Body and Soul” and the ebullient alto errand “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.” Patterson gets in some quick and clever B3 licks too. Questions of classicism and the buttoned down safety of repertory in jazz are salient ones, but they ultimately don’t detract a sliver from this disc’s stature as a placeholder for damn enjoyable music.
Heh. I just reviewed this for the May issue of Jazziz, and closed with this thought:
>It’s Magic will probably be better-received now than it would have been had it been released at the time it was recorded. In the year of Bitches Brew, the world didn’t need an old bebopper playing the same tunes jazzmen had been working over for two or three decades already. But lately, with reissues and fogeyism rampant, a skilled run-through of familiar tracks by a vanished master can be an attractive proposition.
I like the disc. It's not earth-shattering, but I enjoyed Patterson's organ sound, and Stitt was smooth (but not glib) throughout. It's not a reissue, but a previously unreleased session, right? The notes with my advance CD-R were unclear, but that was the impression I got.
Posted by: Phil at March 9, 2005 5:51 PMThere's maybe a million Sonny Stitt records out there,
and damn if each one isn't purported to to be enjoyable! I own about six, and damn, each one is enjoyable, with In Case Your Forgot How Really Bad He Was being my favorite.
This was a working band -- Derek, the drummer here is Billy James -- and one of their club dates is documented on the Label M release JUST THE WAY IT WAS: LIVE AT THE LEFT BANK. Worth searching for, as you get to hear what was a raucous, *amplified* band playing to a highly appreciative -- and I would guess, demographically characteristic -- audience.
Stitt's reputation as a cold-eyed gunslinger aside, he knew how to party, too. I suspect some aspect of DF culture really does originate with touring human jukeboxes like Stitt.
Posted by: Joe Milazzo at March 10, 2005 5:57 AMThat’s funny, Phil, looks like we were on the same page. Far’s I know this disc is a previously unreleased session, which is weird given the vintage & the fact that it’s Stitt.
My fave Stitt is probably ENDGAME BRILLIANCE, a 32 Jazz twofer that combines the albums TUNE UP and CONSTELLATION. His earlier work with Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis on JAWS N’ STITT AT BIRDLAND (Roulette) and w/ Booker Ervin on SOUL PEOPLE (Prestige) is tough to beat too. One that I’ve not found yet, but have long wanted to hear is his PLAYS JIMMY GUIFFRE on Verve.
Adam, I love the title of that disc you mentioned. That’s the one with John Handy & Ritchie Cole on it, right? Great stuff!
Derek, Yes, that's the one and it's really something. I too dig ENDGAME.
and Joe, I love that description of him as a touring jukebox!
How would you/anyone else desrcibe the 'evolution' of his sound? Was there one?
Posted by: Adam Hill at March 10, 2005 6:10 AMJoe, I hear you, but I’m not so sure about the drummer’s identity. He’s listed as “Billy Pierce” on the traycard and is more roughshod than the Billy James I know on record (the Stitt/Patterson Prestige dates and the Paul Weeden trio that backs Jaws on STREETLIGHTS). You could be right though & it may just be a nom de disc or a simple error on the part of the Delmark editorial team.
Listening right now to the first LEGENDS OF ACID JAZZ set under Stitt's name (the albums TURN IT ON! and BLACK VIBRATIONS) and he fits hand-in-glove with the hard funk rhythm team of Leon Spencer, Melvin Sparks and Idris Muhammad- party records indeed!
Derek -- weird. The Delmark site lists on "Billie James, drums."
Sounds like a valuable addition to the Stitt discography regardless.
Posted by: Joe Milazzo at March 10, 2005 6:41 AM“How would you/anyone else describe the 'evolution' of his sound? Was there one?”
Mmm, that’s a good question. I’m looking forward to Joe’s answer. I think Stitt’s sound definitely went through changes, but bop always endured as its nucleus. Even on those various soul jazz dates, he’s basically playing bop solos on top of the boogaloos and backbeats. And there’s the oft-levied charge that, especially early on, he was little more than a Bird-copycat- a slight that swiftly eroded away as the years wore on. His embrace of the Varitone certainly modified his sound (I actually don’t mind it most of the time, though it’s syrupy thick on that YOU TALK THAT TALK album with Gene Ammons). Can’t remember where I read the anecdote, but Jug supposedly admonished Stitt for using the device at some point, prompting him to chuck it.
I’m actually germinating a post for the Bags Blog that skirts this general question, dealing more with players who, supposedly “out to pasture”, end up producing work on par with or even ‘better’ than that of their younger years.
Joe, wow, I didn’t even notice that. Looks like I need to scrub the wax outta my ears re: James :)
Posted by: derek at March 10, 2005 6:47 AM.................................................. © 2003 - 2006 bagatellen ..................................................