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Let me begin these notes by saying that it’s in the poorest of taste to have a drummer writing the liner notes for a drummerless CD. Neither does it help that this drummer and liner note writer happens to be a longtime friend and musical associate of Bob Brookmeyer. However—if truth be known—this latest Brookmeyer offering is so delightfully unique that I’m tempted to set up my drums, slap the headphones on and play along. And so, let’s face the music:
Picture this: you’re headed downtown because Brookmeyer is appearing at the jazz club du jour. It simply says “Bob Brookmeyer Tonight” on the marquee. You don’t know whether that means a duo, trio, quartet, or big band—with Bob, it could mean any or all of those configurations. Never one to sit still in any artistic armchair for too long, Brookmeyer has continued his life’s journey, offering his listeners a surprise around each bend in the road. Just when we got used to his flowing, linear valve trombone style of the mid-fifties, he whacked our sensibilities with a gruff and greasy and quite vocal approach to playing—one that, to this day, has endeared itself to countless listeners. This was the Brookmeyer of the Gerry Mulligan Concert Jazz Band days00sort of Bob’s middle period, if you will. That particular roar lasted roughly through Brookmeyer’s tenure with the first and most famous edition of the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra. After leaving New York and heading west to California in the later 60’s, Bob busied himself with considerable studio work, and very little in the way of jazz recording or performance. “I left New York,” he says, “because I felt that my life was over there. I moved west in order to try to make a fresh start.” His activities—or inactivities, as Bob would be quick to point out—in Los Angeles lasted about ten years before a subsequent move back to New York, then on to Europe, and finally back to the states, specifically the New England area, where he lives and works at present. During this entire period, Brookmeyer has never stopped evolving. He continues to be a relentless explorer of new musical territories. Over the years, he has developed into a formidable orchestral composer, one who has found myriad ways to blend the adventurousness and daring of contemporary classical music with the basic core elements of jazz—which is merely a fancy way of saying that in bob’s house, you get Lutoslawski in the living room, Bach in the bedroom, and Basie in the kitchen. It’s all there, it’s all new, and it is most definitely all Brookmeyer. His large- and small-ensemble music has received international accolades as well, most notably in the Netherlands, France, and Germany, and we are fortunate that much of Bob’s recent work has been made available to the listening public via concerts, broadcasts, and recordings. And the Brookmeyer trombone continues to be one of the most unique and identifiable sounds in jazz. Even though over the years, he has refined and reshaped his approach to improvisation, Bob’s beautiful sound, his oblique sense of humor, and especially his unabashed lyricism remains unmistakably his own. A number of writers on the jazz scene have alluded to the notion that Brookmeyer’s solos are often so melodious, they seem to be like little songs themselves, rather than mere improvised variations of standard themes.
Which brings us to this little gem that you now hold in your hands. The eminent writer Whitney Balliett once likened jazz to what he called “the sound of surprise,” which may have been his way of saying that in the best of this music, one comes to expect the unexpected. On this intimate and joyous little recording, Bob Brookmeyer and the wonderfully inventive Danish bassist Mads Vinding embody Balliett’s metaphor. What we have here is a program filled with the humor, thoughtfulness, and unpredictability that one comes to associate with any Brookmeyer offering. The set opens with a delightfully skewed version of the old Cole Porter song, Anything Goes, which begins with an exultant vamp, followed by Bob’s completely sideways reading of the melody. In his solo, Brookmeyer bends and shapes the contours of the song itself, breathing new life into it, and turning it inside-out as he re-invents its melody, harmony, and even its syncopated rhythm. Bassist Vinding, here and elsewhere, solidly and imaginatively anchors Bob’s explorations, and is the perfect foil for the trombonist’s wicked sense of subtlety.
While Brookmeyer has been acknowledged as the undisputed master of the valve trombone, he has always been a strikingly original jazz pianist as well. During the Mulligan and Jimmy Giuffre days of the late-50’s and early 60’s, Bob occasionally warmed the bench in both the Mulligan bands, and the fine Giuffre trio with guitarist Jim Hall. He was also active in this role with a number of other notable musicians including pianist Bill Evans, with whom he recorded a two-piano album that remains as fresh today as when it was released some four decades back. After a lengthy hiatus away from the instrument, Brookmeyer the pianist is back “warming the bench,” and playing exceedingly well. On his own New Song, Bob’s playing combines the airiness of Eric Satie with the warm lyricism of the aforementioned Evans. The song itself floats haiku-like in its overt simplicity, yet—like haiku—draws its beauty from what is implied rather than stated.
How Deep is the Ocean finds Bob once again on the valve trombone. This tune is frequently a staple in the modern jazz repertoire, and the duo sounds like two happy guys strutting down the street on a Kansas City Saturday night, fists full of loot, ready for a good time. Notice here (and throughout the disc) how mutually supportive Brookmeyer and Vinding are of each other This is duo playing in the purest sense, and not merely one musician accompanying the other’s flights of fancy.
Shifting the mood completely, Everything Happens to Me sounds at first quite somber. Brookmeyer is back on piano for this one, and he shrouds the first part of this song in a mysterious chordal veneer. We never really quite hear much more than snippets of the melody, as Bob moves seamlessly from a floating, otherworldly feeling into a rather choppy, double-time Bartokian section, and finally into a down-home, soulful summation of the song itself. Vinding spells Bob every step of the way and always seems to choose exactly the right notes to compliment Brookmeyer’s unique interpretation of this song. Liner notes continue… |
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| | Anything Goes | | | New Song |  | | How Deep is the Ocean | | | Everything Happens to Me | | | I Can't Get Started | | | Someday My Prince Will Come. | | | Pretty Song | | | Time On My Hands | | | Nobody Knows | |
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Bob Brookmeyer, valve trombone and piano
Mads Vinding, double bass |
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