Some of us have been stuck on that trip for a while now. No harm in it. No harm at all. The harm is elsewhere. Not that I’m going to jump up on my chair and call certain so called leaders worthless sacks of shit with very violent and delusional maniacs in their employ, because that just wouldn’t be polite. If my mom taught me anything, it was that everybody and everything is twisted to such a horrible degree that to care is to die inside. I learned my manners elsewhere, but I do try to be polite. I won’t be calling anybody anything other than wonderful tonight. I digress.
Arthur Gilroy mentioned in a comment earlier this evening that he will be playing some Oliver Nelson tunes at the Ravinia Jazz Festival in Highland Park, Illinois on Sunday. I asked him what tunes he’d be playing and he produced quite a list, but also mentioned three that just floor him every time he hears or plays them; Stolen Moments, Down By the Riverside and Hoe Down. If the tunes that floor a guy are the measure of a man, I’d say Gilroy is standing fairly tall.
I was going to post all three, but I promised my wife that my blogging wouldn’t lead to any cease and desist orders, so I’ll go with just one for tonight. It’s a tough choice, but I’ll stick with the fairly popular one; Stolen Moments. I’m really partial to Nelson’s solo on Hoe Down, so I’ll try to get back to that at some point.
Stolen Moments is the first track on Oliver Nelson’s record The Blues and the Abstract Truth and features Nelson on Saxophone, Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Eric Dolphy on flute, Bill Evans on piano, Paul Chambers on bass and Roy Haynes on drums. No video, sorry. Record companies don’t tend to mind if blogs post one tune from a record so long as the poster urges you to go out and buy the album. Consider yourself urged.
P.S. That stuff about my mom isn’t true. You can bet on it if you like. I’ve never been much for gambling myself, but to each his own.
Well you did it again. A great piece. I think it`s better without the video in a way, as it takes you away without the distraction of watching. It makes you hear it by itself. Pure music in it`s pure form, audio.
I’ll agree with that. Sometimes though, like last week’s piece, watching the intensity of the musicians helps intensify the sound for me. The first soloist, George Adams, was off the wall. Or like watching Buddy Rich’s face when he was tearing into it. Intense.
I love this album. I play it at last once a month, often in conjunction with Freddie Hubbard’s “Red Clay”.
Well, if I AM standing tall, it’s because I am standing on the shoulders of about 6 generations of masters.
1-Louis Armstrong and the people who taught him.
2-The pre-swing players. Sidney Bechet and Jack Teagarden and Bix Beiderbecke and Bessie Smith and them.
3-The swing era. Roy Eldridge, Ben Webster, Coleman Hawkins, benny Goodman, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, Bill Harris, Lester Young, Tommy Dorsey., HUNDREDS as the knowledge grew.
4-The bebop Kings. Bird and Diz and Monk and all of those who heard the revolution and signed on up.. PLUS the entrance of the latin thing. Chano Pozo, Machito’s band, Chico O’Farrill. MORE hundreds, eventually.
5-The post bop masters. Sonny Rollins, Stan Getz, Gil Evans, Bill Evans, ‘Trane, Miles, Oliver Nelson, Charles Mingus…always more, always growing.
6-Freedomland. The generation just before mine. When everybody tried EVERYTHING.
Lotsa masters in there…
Lots more coming.
BET on it.
AG
the blues….metalanguage of the soul.
the yearning, the pain, the anger, the redemption, howling in the bent microtone, screaming passion and funking pretty.
don’t. keep. the. horror. and. joy. locked. up.
open, dig it all, up and out, and if you care enough, the blues will find you and set you free.
for a while….
Sold a stolen moment in 1962 and used the money to buy Blues and the Abstract Truth.
When I got home, I ran up stairs to my room, screwed a blue light bulb into the desk lamp , took the record out careful not to touch the black wax with my finger tips and put the album on the turn table of my portable RCA stereo phonograph.
I put the needle down careful, lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. The music took me deep into my heart. Perhaps deeper then I ever went before … well except for maybe listening to Miles and stayin’ up late looking at the stars alone with my family all asleep.,
Now .. when ever I hear Stolen Moments … my blood remembers … and I sink right back into the best of who I am and the best of who I can be.
Good music always takes me home.