Johnny Coles - New Morning (Criss Cross)

There’s a single, or singular, maybe, reason I love this record: Johnny Coles’ tone. Yes, "warm" as the title of his first session as a leader (Epic, 1961) described it in near space-age bachelor pad terms, but with a cool center. Breathy, slightly hoarse. Maybe its better to say his timbre is singed at the edges. Whatever; the Coles sound is a careful, maybe even trembling grasp of oppositional elements. Coles holds them together as much as their natural tension -- like magnetic repulsion -- does. His is a sound difficult to describe adequately, in such a way that it calls to mind the late David Rosenthal’s description of Art Farmer’s sound – “tart”. Sour, but... sour cream.

Now, usually, I don't dig flugelhorn all that much. Its a little too roly-poly for my taste, and its mechanics can make even the most fleet player sound logy. But listen to how Coles exploits the fullness of the instrument’s qualities on this record. “Johnny Coles... in PANAVISION!” Couple this tone with Coles super-hip articulation, and you have a rare brass player who somehow bridges the gap (which may anyway exist only in my mind) that separates Rex Stewart from Chet Baker. Maybe this is why Gil Evans showcased Coles in the 60’s whenever the arranger wasn’t re-negotiating with Miles and Teo Macero.

I almost don’t have even to listen to Coles’ solos on this record. I could just listen to him play the unusually lyrical theme to saxophonist Charles Davis’ "Super 80", hit the stop button, and be happy. But my curiosity invariably gets the best of me, and I let the track play. Listen to how involved he gets in the harmonies during his solo. In some ways, the solo on “Super 80” is a jazz improvisation that spins out so many arabesques and penetrates so deep that it is nearly "out". And speaking of "out" –- isn’t the title track something else? A modal, flamenco-tinged construct that really keeps your interest and doesn’t just see-saw back and forth from major to minor. This is the track, I feel, on which Coles’ esteemed accompanists really out-do themselves, from Billy Hart’s quasi-AEC opening gong to the oft-kilter, killer groove that the Parlan / Johnson / Hart trio sets up.

It seems to me, in listening to this disc yet again, that, much as I feel that Coles, and not Miles, was the trumpet player born to bring life to Gil Evans’ scores, that the association with Gil may have hurt Coles’ career in the long run. Not only did it force him somewhat into Miles’ shadow, make him Miles’s understudy for many fans, but -- oh, irony -- it deflected attention away from his considerable abilities as a soloist onto his talents as a musical colorist. (I know some have complained that Coles is habitually out of tune. I can’t tell. Or I don't care.) And there’s no question that Coles could shade like few other players could. Perhaps more than his other few leader dates, New Morning really shows off what Coles could do, and how inventively he could do it. That the opportunity came so late in his career seems both a shame and a blessing.

~ Joe Milazzo