Bill Evans and Don Elliot
Tenderly
(Pablo - 2001)
by Dick Bogle

This session took place sometime in either 1956 or ’57 at the home studio of multi-instrumentalist Don Elliot. It began informally, with the soon-to-be-recognized Evans asking Elliot if the recording process had begun. That’s the opening to “Tenderly.” After a false start, Evans — with Elliot on vibes — gets into an exuberant “I’ll Take Romance.”

All kinds of great tunes follow, including “Laura,” “Thou Swell,” “ I’ll Know,” “Like Someone In Love,” “Stella By Starlight” and more. If you want the sense of being there like a fly on the wall and would dig the informality of it all, this is for you.

Don Byron
You Are #6 - More Music For Six Musicians
(Blue Note - 2001)
by Mark Ruffin

To say that clarinet player, Don Byron, is an eclectic avant-garde musician, would be an understatement. That being stated, along with the notion that his music is an acquired taste, know that this is by far his most accessible album to date. A sequel to his early 90's disc "Music For Six Musicians," "You Are #6," is much less political that its predecessor. The silly one minute ode to George Bush, titled "Dub-Ya," is the only evidence that Byron even cares about politics. What is obvious in the development of Byron as an artist and composer, is that he has grown a hard fascination with Latin and Brazilian rhythms, as well over two thirds of this record is dedicated to those genres.

But just as was the case with his brilliant 1998 album, "Nu Blaxplotation," there is some interesting spoken word on the disc, and one tune with undeniable commercial appeal. On the earlier disc, it was the unbelievable funky version of the already funky 70's classic by Mandrill, "Fencewalk." Here it is the calypso number, Shake It Up," which provided exposure, could be a huge Caribbean hit for the dreadlocked reed man.

Tierney Sutton
Blue In Green
(Telarc - 2001)
by John Barrett

After her album Unsung Heroes (singing tunes with rarely-heard lyrics) Tierney Sutton chose a slightly different project: a vocal tribute to an instrumental artist. Taking it further, this look at Bill Evans has only five of his songs; the rest are standards, played by Bill on his various albums. She speaks softly on "Just Squeeze Me", sounding a bit like an alto sax. Christian Jacob adds a few chords, sparse and warm - he doesn't copy Evans, for which I am glad. Ray Brinker's brushes are the power behind "Autumn Leaves": taken at double-time, Tierney skips along as the background turns sour. Jacob's solo is breathless and brash, followed by a muscular scat session. "Never Let Me Go" is more earthy, and more innocent: Sutton starts with a moan, and the words arrive with a broad, woody tone. The focus is on Trey Henry's bass, swaying like an ancient tree. A second bass joins him on "Sometime Ago": Ken Wild forms chords from Henry's notes, while Tierney sings joy from a girlish heart. She's resigned on "Detour Ahead", a sound weary as Evans' on the Village Vanguard date. (Christian shows the same mood, with his slow contemplation.) "Just You, Just Me" is a duet with brushes, as intimate as you'd want it. The verse is quickly said, then an alto-like scat, then the verse, and then the ending - all in two minutes. Love can be like that.

On Evans' own tunes, Tierney is softer, and a tad more emotional. "Blue in Green" (credited to Miles Davis, but probably by Bill) gets a wordless wail, and then a quiet lyric by Meredith d'Ambrosio. Jacob has a rainy solo; better is Henry, whose two-note drone is right for the piece. There is real loneliness in "Turn Out the Stars"; calm at first, Tierney shouts her despair as Christian plays pretty. (The same mood prevails on "We Will Meet Again", told with classical formality.) After a happy "Waltz for Debby", the tune becomes Evans' "Tiffany", with a new lyric by the song's subject. (Tiffany's father, Joe LaBarbera, plays on this one.) The words are absolutely priceless: "Smiling lips that whisper girlish swears to give your heart to me." It's so lovely that when "Debby" returns, the line "they will miss her" is even sadder than usual. This bittersweet joy is all through the work of Bill Evans - Tierney Sutton understands this, and conveys it well.

The Essential Mingus Big Band

(Dreyfus - 2001)
by Dick Bogle

Close to 150 New York area musicians are on the list of players Sue Mingus can call for either a tour or the regular Thursday night gig at New York’s Time Café. The nine tunes on this Dreyfus release are branded “essential” because they constitute the essence of the Mingus Big Band’s recorded output. Five previously released CDs are represented with selected cuts and slightly differing personnel.

“Gunslinging Birds,” the title tune of the band’s 1995 release, features a sax section of Craig Handy, John Stubblefield, David Lee, Steve Slagle, Chris Potter and Gary Smulyan. “Boogie Stop Shuffle,” another band staple, has many of the same reed players and on trumpets has Randy Brecker, Ryan Kisor and Alex Sipiagin. Some of the trombonists heard on any number of cuts include Conrad Herwig, Jamal Haynes, Ku- umba Frank Lacy, Dave Taylor and Clark Gayton.

Two pianists — Kenny Drew Jr. and David Kikoski — are heard in a rhythm section with bassists Michael Formanek, Andy McKee and John Benitez and drummers Marvin Smith, Gene Jackson, Adam Cruz, Jonathan Blake and Victor Jones. These are some of the best efforts by the best big band in the business.

Paolo Di Sabatino
Threeo
(Hallway - 2001)
by Sidney Bechet-Mandela

Some weird Dr. Stangejazz has gone to the Dominican Republic and lifted the musical DNA of pianist Michel Camilo, flew it to Italy and put it into the fingers of Paolo Di Sabatino. Even the rhythm section of drummer Horacio Hernandez and bassist John Patitucci, are former employees of the fiery Dominican, and they accompany and shadow the Italian just as tight as they do Camilo. Also like Camilo, Di Sabatino is a worthy enough composer to have his tunes stand up next to standards by Jules Styne, Bud Powell, Victor Young and others.

Crosscurrent
Rituals
(Laugh & Jangle - 2001)
by John Barrett

You hear many emotions: thoughtfulness, adventure, strength … and innocence, so rare in music. I hear echoes of Oregon, the earliest Coryell, Zappa instrumentals, half-forgotten groups like Entourage - the first days of fusion, at its most open-minded. The moods begin with rhythm - either calm cymbals or a cluster of hand-drums - and the guitar of Eric T. Johnson, adding a number of flavors. His tone is dirty for "Intersections": round rambling notes, with a tiny hint of fuzz. The other instruments circle around him, especially Carl Clements; his sax is crying, with a wispy sort of voice. Ben Cook provides a pensive piano, and the soprano keeps climbing higher. On "North March", Clements sounds like an oboe, and he twirls beside Johnson's acoustic guitar - the sound is exactly like Oregon's. Played in a vigorous 5/4, the tune skips like a child; part of the joy is not knowing what comes next. David Crosby's "Guinnivere" reveals herself slowly: Josh Davis groans a note on bowed bass, and Clements picks it up on tenor. Cook plays a drawing-room theme; Johnson sprinkles a few notes on top. Eric and Carl then play in unison, followed by the others: it sounds to busy, but the harmonies are striking. "Stop and Go" travels a fast road (Cook calls in short bursts, like a car horn) and "Crosscurrent" pairs Davis' bow and Johnson's undulating strings - an endless stream, but many rivulets. Sit back, and hear the music flow by.

Clements' flute whistles through the waltz of "Mirrormere", a happy thought vigorously exercised. While the piano and brushes treat it as a salon piece, Carl does not; he chirps with power, letting all share in his joy. "Seven of Mine" takes one of the rarest time signatures, 7/4, and works it into a natural-sounding near-rondo. Cook's fluttering theme is varied by the others, a caucus race without an end. Honors go to the ever-changing percussion; Davis' string-snapping solo is his best. The twelve-minute "Ritual" starts with more of that good bass, and becomes an Eastern meditation with wooden flute and ethereal keys. Drums slowly intrude, and the flute toughens its sound - still the peace remains. And the disc closes with formality: "Now the Day Is Gone", played by Carl with sweetness, joined by the band on the second chorus. Josh's bow is welcome, and Eric adds some beautiful twinkles - so perfect in its conception, so sad that it has to end. While it is their third album, this is my first encounter with Crosscurrent. I hope it is not my last.