Horace Silver and the Cape Verdean Blues

Horace Silver’s The Cape Verdean Blues album is a favorite of mine. I get the impression it’s been a bit overshadowed by its predecessor, Song for My Father. As the liner note indicate, the title tune doesn’t seek to ape the hit status of the previous record’s title track, being a jauntier, Afro-Caribbean take on Silver’s ancestral Cape Verde islands. Interestingly, the rest of the album has a more serious, less funky tone, due not only to the compositions (and Horace was a marvelous composer) but to the playing of Joe Henderson and Woody Shaw. Henderson is a favorite of mine, especially his work for Blue Note during this period. Shaw, who was relatively new to the scene when he joined Silver, already was exhibiting his mastery of technique. Like Charlie Parker, though, his technique was always in service to his ideas and emotional expressiveness, not used for its own sake. I’ve been listening to some of Woody’s work for Columbia recently, especially Stepping Stones; he and Carter Jefferson really tear it up—and what a loss Jefferson was to this music! Note: If you’re on Facebook, check out the Woody Shaw Legacy page. It’s run by Woody’s son Woody III, and is much more than a fan page—it features some great music and cogent thoughts about Woody’s work, the music business, and the state of the world.

Back to The Cape Verdean Blues! My favorite tracks are the title cut and The African Queen (and check out the drumming of Roger Humphries, age 21, throughout—he’s got a great Art Blakey thing going that enhances each track, as at the end of Queen). The last three tunes feature J.J. Johnson on trombone. I wish Horace had used a third horn on more of this albums from this time period; the trombone adds some nice texture to the ensemble portions, and Johnson’s solo work fits right in—to me, he doesn’t sound like an older bopper dropped in among  younger, edgier players.

Another observation: without being a technical virtuoso, Silver’s solos are always clever and quirky, including is use of quotations from surprising sources (Put your little foot?!) As someone once said of Al Haig, “He’s not a pianist—he’s a stylist.” Finally, as he has done on countless recordings, Bob Cranshaw provides unobtrusive but sold support—no surprise he’s been Sonny Rollins’s bassist for ages.

The Cape Verdean Blues is a fine recording and should get more recognition than it does.  Here’s The African Queen.

Monty Waters: The Black Cat

I first heard alto saxist Monty Waters on the Joe lee Wilson and Bond Street album, What Would It be Without You. I love Joe Lee Wilson (and have blogged about his music) and liked what I heard of Waters, but I could never find much music by him. It turns out that he spent  a good many years of his later career in Munich, where he did record, but he never got much of a shot in the U.S. Like many practitioners of America’s greatest gift to world culture, he’s been neglected in his own country. Fortunately, he was recorded in 1975 by the Japanese WhyNot label, now re-released on CD by Candid Records.

The Black Cat is an excellent date, featuring Waters, guitarist Yoshihaki Masuo, bassist Ronnie Boykins, and drummer George Avaloz. Waters also composed all of the tunes. They’re really equal partners here, notably on J. Love March, a slightly eccentric jazz march with a good deal of collective improvisation. Waters has a lot of Ornette Coleman in his playing, particularly notable on the two blues tracks—Bog’s Blues and Modesto—but tempered with a more disciplined Steve Lacy-like tone.  It’s a strong combination. Apt. #2H, a reworking of Giant Steps, the title track, and R.P.M. all serve as vehicles for Waters, an impressively melodic Masuo, and standout solo work by Boykins (I have his ESP date somewhere and need to dig it out).

The Black Cat is available here as well as from Candid (I’m not getting any money from these plugs, folks, just encouraging you to support this music with some of your cash). I couldn’t find anything from the album on YouTube, but here’s something from Monty’s later years that should give you a taste, although a bit less “out” than this recording. He was a beautiful player.