Frank Morgan - A Night in the Life

HighNote 7164

Music critic Mark Keresman is tilting at windmills in his aim to axe the metaphorical tree of East Coast over West Coast jazz supremacy. That particular timber has long since transformed into a petrified stump. Even so, his underlying goal of stressing the fact that altoist Frank Morgan is still far from waning talent is an admirable one. Morgan has recently relocated to Minneapolis, my own place of residence, and while his concert gigs here have as of yet been depressingly few, it’s still gratifying to have them as a proximal possibility. A Night in the Life, third in series of air shots from NYC’s Jazz Standard, gives a fair idea of what to expect from the bop doyen on an intimate bandstand. Pianist George Cables, “Mr. Taste” to those in know, leads up the rhythm section of bassist Curtis Lundy and drummer Billy Hart and the three men jointly attune to the joyous pursuit of making Morgan look good. The tunes are all standard menu items from the Bird Bar & Grill starting with a lithe, if fairly rote reading of “Confirmation”. Lundy applies light amplification to his strings for added bounce and Hart keeps a steady rhythmic swish via cymbals and trimmed snare rolls. Cables hangs back, allowing Morgan the pole position on the head before launching into a two-fisted deconstruction of the theme. Hart gets into the action with a string of tasteful trades at the end, which sustains an effervescing swing. An admiring fan expounds, “You’re gorgeous.” To which Morgan modestly responds, “You make me blush.” He encounters a wee bit of reed trouble on his stroll down “Green Dolphin Street”, but it’s Cables who scrubs away any lingering blemishes with another elegantly constructed solo. Vivacious versions of “Half Nelson” and “Hot House” follow, more Bird food summarily gobbled up by the quartet to the delight of the club audience. “Billie’s Bounce” and “It’s Only a Paper Moon” deploy at slower speeds, each demonstrating Morgan’s commitment to keeping the bases loaded even in the home stretch. Tired baseball metaphors aside, this set puts forth just what it promises: a poignant postcard from a respected representative of the old bop breed, still going strong, with retirement not even so much as an afterthought.

~ Derek Taylor