In its pell-mell rush from New Orleans to infinity, jazz has
left a number of styles behind. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing in some cases,
but others ought to be placed on an endangered species list and lovingly
fostered. Right now, I’m thinking of the school of bop-influenced Lester Young tenor
disciples like Zoot Sims, Stan Getz, Allen Eager, and Brew Moore. They all achieved
a beautiful mix of sound and ideas that seems all the more refreshing in contrast
to the Hawkins/Rollins/Coltrane school that dominates our era. Above
all, they had the gift of easy, inevitable swing in every note they played. I love today’s tenor players, but couldn’t
they relax once in a while? Given the news these days, we could use some
relaxation.
Take Milton
(Brew) Moore (1924–1973), for example. He famously stated that “Anyone who
doesn’t play like Lester Young is wrong,” yet he also assimilated the language of
bebop. A true jazz itinerant Jack Kerouac was a fan), Moore wound up in Denmark
before his untimely death from a fall in 1973. In the 1950s, he temporarily relocated to San
Francisco, where he recorded The Brew
Moore Quintet, a good introduction to his work. It’s a fine collection of old
standards like Tea for Two and Them Their Eyes, along with a number of
originals by pianist John Marabuto. Moore tips his hat to Prez with I Want a Little Girl. Although he could
really caress a ballad, as on Fools Rush In, the other tracks are exemplars of the
wonderful laid-back swing that seems to be virtually a lost art these days. Trumpeter
Dicky Mills, Bassist Max Hartstein, and drummer Gus Gustofson are uniformly
good, but this album is Brew’s show.
Here's I Can't Believe that You're in Love with Me. Enjoy!
