"You Can Never Capture It Again": Zoot Sims, "Live" in Philly

Eric Dolphy once said, “When you hear music, after it’s over, it’s gone, in the air, you can never capture it again.” When you think about the years of gigs musicians rack up in pursuit of their art, his remark really resonates. Maybe some of the greatest music ever made exists only in the memories of the musicians who made it and the audiences who heard it. Fortunately, some of these moments are still with us in the form of live recordings, like Zoot Sims: "Live" in Philly.

Recorded in an anonymous club in Philadelphia, probably in the late 1970s or early 1980s, and featuring Zoot Sims on tenor and soprano saxes, Ben Aronov on piano, Major Holley on bass, and Mickey Roker providing strong rhythmic support on drums. Zoot et al. must have played hundreds of shows like this one, which for unknown reasons was recorded. It’s a great set, featuring three familiar Duke Ellington compositions (In a Mellow Tone, I Got It Bad and that Ain’t Good, and Do Nothing Till You Hear from Me). On the first and third of these tunes, Zoot demonstrates the lost art of effortless mid-tempo swing so typical of Lester Young and his musical descendants, while on I’ve Got It Bad, he brings out all of the song’s sweet sadness. Polka Dots and Moonbeams features Major Holley’s  hum-along technique on bass, providing humor without sacrificing a real feeling for the song.

For me, though, the album’s emotional core is I Don’t Stand a Ghost of a Chance with You, with Zoot on soprano. After taking up that notoriously tricky horn in the 1970s, he developed a beautiful, expressive sound. Ghost must have been a favorite of his―he recorded it at least one other time―but this performance is hauntingly beautiful. Ben Aronov follows with a striking solo, as he does throughout the record. It’s the track I come back to most often.

I don’t know how this recording came about, but I’m grateful for it. Here are Ghost and Polka 

Dots―enjoy!

Walter Norris: Never Should It End

Many years ago, my local Barnes and Noble got in a raft of remaindered Concord Records CDs (back then, Concord was a first-rate indie jazz label, not today’s corporate conglomerate).  I scooped up a bunch based on the Concord brand and artist name recognition―and then let them submerge into the Great Unplayed Pile. I was rooting around in that ever-growing mass recently and ran across Sunburst, a date led by Walter Norris. In my recollection, Norris was an esteemed pianist of a rather austere bent, considered willing to move out of the mainstream in his playing. The album featured Joe Henderson on tenor―a good sign, and I hadn’t remembered that. Time to look into Norris a bit more.

He had an interesting career. Originally from Arkansas, he eventually moved to the West Coast and played on Something Else!, Ornette Coleman’s first album, so “willing to move out of the mainstream” was right, at least for 1958. He then spent several years in New York as musical director of the Playboy Club. In 1974, he joined the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis big band. According to his Wikipedia entry, he had a brief and frightening experience with Charles Mingus in 1976 and then moved to Germany, where he taught and gigged until his death in 2011. (Note: I saw Mingus and his Jazz Workshop on several occasions and can attest that he was indeed a formidable presence. The trumpeter Clarence [Gene] Shaw had an experience similar to Norris’s, as I recall.) In the 1990s, Norris signed with Concord, one of the products of which was Sunburst.

Now to the music. It’s really excellent. Most of the tunes are standards of one sort or another (Stella By Starlight, What’s New, Naima) or Norris originals (the title track, Never Should It End, Rose Petals). Especially in their introductions, Norris and Henderson both like to take the Lee Konitz approach of not going straight into the melody line, which freshens up the standards.  The high point of the album for me is Naima, a gorgeous, soaring rendition that evokes the spirit of Trane without imitation. Bird is an off-kilter tribute to another jazz genius, with fresh ideas aplenty. (Note to readers: the composition is listed as by Charlie Parker but I can’t decide whether it’s one composition or a compilation of Bird phrases. It’s not on YouTube, but can any ornithologist who owns or can find Sunburst clue me in?) Larry Grenadier supplies solid backing and some fine solos on bass, and Mike Hyman keeps things going nicely on drums.

All in all, Sunburst is a fine recording that pays back even more with repeated listening. I could find only a couple of tracks on YouTube, but I’d really advise hunting down the whole thing, or any other Walter Norris recoding you run across.

Here's Sunburst:

And What's New.