[1] REET'S NEET
BENNY CARTER & PHIL WOODS:
MY MAN BENNY/MY MAN PHIL
Phil Woods (Music DuBois; BMI)
[2] JUST A MOOD (II)
Benny Carter (Bee Cee Music; ASCAP)
[3] SULTRY SERENADE
Tyree Glenn
[4] WE WERE IN LOVE
Benny Carter (Bee Cee Music; ASCAP)
[5] MY MAN BENNY
Phil Woods (Music DuBois; BMI)
[6] MY MAN PHIL
Benny Carter (Bee Cee Music; ASCAP)
[7] JUST A MOOD (I)
Benny Carter (Bee Cee Music; ASCAP)
[8] M.A. BLUES
Benny Carter (Bee Cee Music; ASCAP)
[9] PEOPLE TIME
Benny Carter (Bee Cee Music; ASCAP)
[10] I'M JUST WILD ABOUT
HARRY
Eubie Blake/Noble Sissie (M. Witmark & Sons; ASCAP)
BENNY CARTER, alto sax, trumpet (TRACKS 4 & 9), vocal (ON TRACK 6); PHIL WOODS, alto sax, clarinet (ON TRACK 4); CHRIS NEVILLE, piano; GEORGE MRAZ, bass
KENNY WASHINGTON, drums
Jazz lore is filled with tales of "cutting contests," legendary battles between rivals in some after-hours spot. Accounts of such duels, even if apocryphal, are always entertaining. Ultimately, however, the most rewarding encounters are those born of mutual respect -- where the participants are secure enough to want to create great music, not score points. This attitude seems to prevail, especially in the studio, when the true giants come together. Recorded meetings between Count Basie and Duke Ellington, Basie and Oscar Peterson, Ben Webster and Coleman Hawkins, and Roy Eldridge and Dizzy Gillespie, for example, produced their share of fireworks, but always within a constructive framework. Deep mutual respect and affection clearly govern this collaboration between the two greatest living alto saxophonists.
The only previous meeting on record between Carter and Woods is Carter's epic 1961 Further Definitions saxophone ensemble album, a "desert island" item among jazz fans. Their desire to record together is rekindled each year at Dick Gibson's annual jazz party in Denver, where the Carter-Woods set is always a highlight in a weekend of highlights. The Gibson extravaganza is marked by provocative pairings on stage and camaraderie between
artists and audience offstage. Amidst the casual comings and goings, astute fans will observe one constant: when Phil Woods is performing, Benny Carter is in the audience, and viceversa. No matter what the hour or the circumstances, they simply do not miss each other's sets.
In addition to the customary get-together in Denver, other recent events gave impetus to this project. In August of 1989, Carter was asked to put together a sax ensemble at the Chicago Jazz Festival to reprise the Further Definitions charts. As the only other surviving member of that stellar reed section (the tenors were Coleman Hawkins and Charlie Rouse), Woods was a natural choice to join Carter. In October of the same year, Woods was one of several guest soloists to travel with Carter's big band on a two-week tour of Japan. It was clear to everyone on that trip that Benny and Phil not only enjoy each other's playing, but each other's company as well.
Those preoccupied with categories or labels may question the compatibility of a Benny Carter and a Phil Woods. Carter (b.1907), after all, was one of the prime architects of the swing era, as an arranger, soloist and leader. Woods (b.1931 ), on the other hand, is often viewed as the quintessential st drew
bebopper -- the heir to Charlie Parker's crown. Time and perspective have blurred the often artificial and arbitrary lines between these jazz styles, and factionalism has receded. But even at the height of the stylistic skirmishes, Carter and Woods defied stereotyping or pigeonholing. Carter consistently hired and encouraged the young experimenters, such as Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Max Roach, Art Pepper and George Russell. To this day, he continues to listen and absorb. Carter's solos in the 1990s remain as fresh and captivating as they were in the 1920s and 1930s, when his facility, sophistication and imagination first drew the attention of fellow musicians and fans. Carter's influence continued to be felt well beyond the swing era. One of those who came under Carter's spell in the mid1940s was the young Phil Woods. "When I was 14, I was given some saxophone solos in a pamphlet by my teacher," he recalls. "One was by Johnny Hodges, and one by Benny Carter. That was the beginning for me. Around the same time, I discovered Charlie Parker. There's a whole lot about this music from the 1920s and 1930s that I'm still finding out. Us beboppers just sort of jumped into the style; the homework came later." At one point, frustrated by relentless efforts to place him in the Parker mold, Woods began to respond to interviewers by
stating: "My three influences are Benny Carter, Johnny Hodges and Charlie Parker, in that order." He admits today that that was a slight distortion, but adds: "It doesn't matter what order -- those three gentleman are the alto saxophone. That's who anyone who wants to play this instrument should listen to."
Committed to a career in jazz since the age of 14, Woods left his native Springfield, Massachusetts, for New York. He enrolled in Juilliard as a clarinet major, and received a thorough classical education. Each night, however, Woods "minored in 52nd Street," pursuing an education of a different kind. He began to make a name for himself at jam sessions and apprenticed in the big band of Charlie Barnet. In 1954, Woods recorded his first of more than 60 albums as a leader. He also participated in scores of sessions as one of New York's busiest sidemen. Woods was a participant in two pioneering efforts involving jazz as a tool of diplomacy; State Department-sponsored tours of the Middle East by Dizzy Gillespie (1956), and of the Soviet Union by Benny Goodman (1962).
Disillusioned with the musical and political scenes in the United States, Woods moved to Europe in 1968 and spent five years at the helm of his dynamic European Music Machine. He returned to the States in 1973,
and after a brief and unrewarding period in Los Angeles, moved back to the East Coast. Since the mid-1970s, Woods has led his own tightly-knit quintet, which has enjoyed a stability nearly unmatched in jazz groups. Woods' playing has continued to evolve through the years, while losing none of the fire and intensity that marked his early work. His recordings are remarkably consistent; it is almost impossible to find an uninspired Phil Woods solo, no matter what the surroundings.
Odd as it may seem, Carter's and Woods' paths never crossed in the 1950s. By the time the younger altoist was making his reputation in New York, Carter had already settled in Los Angeles, where he was breaking new ground in the film and television studios. But Carter admired Woods' work, and was well aware of his abilities when they finally met at the 1961 Further Definitions date. The title songs, "My Man Benny" and "My Man Phil," symbolize the warm relationship between the two men. Woods wrote a bigband arrangement of "My Man Benny" to perform with Carter's orchestra on their recent Japanese tour. "I had the basic idea written down much earlier," Phil recalls. "When I came across it, I could just hear
'Benny Carter ... my man' as the first line. It jumped off the page and practically wrote itself!" Carter was obviously moved when Woods unveiled the chart at a rehearsal in Tokyo. Phil played the piece at each concert, announcing it as his "homage to The King." Never one to be outdone in matters of etiquette, Carter, within a week, had sketched the basic outline to "My Man Phil." He refined the piece over the next few days, keeping its existence a secret. Although these two musical tributes speak eloquently, each saxophonist had some additional thoughts about the other:
Benny on Phil: I like everything about his playing: his sound, his ideas and, of course, his facility, which is just fantastic. But Phil's much more than a great saxophonist; he's a great musician. I don't think people are aware of his overall musicianship. I had not heard his arranging for a big band before he brought some charts to Japan for us. I was very impressed with his writing: the ideas, the lines, the harmonic mix and tonal colors. His voicings are so interesting to play, and he has excellent taste. You can tell that he puts a lot of thought into his writing, whether it's for a big band or just two horns, as on this album. Beyond the music, Phil is a very open and honest man and a joy to work with.
Phil on Benny: Benny is a role model for any serious musician. Even without receiving mass public recognition, throughout his career he's kept pursuing the truth. He's come to terms with himself as an artist and as a man better than anyone I know. He's shown that humility and modesty can coexist with talent and that you don't have to be flamboyant or notorious to have an impact. Despite our age difference, I feel our relationship is more brotherly than father-son. I feel like I'm part of the family and I hope he feels the same way. For example, I played in Los Angeles the week before Christmas. I was going to close on Christmas Eve, and Benny wanted to make sure I had a place to go for Christmas dinner. We always have a lot of laughs together. We're both very serious about the music, but not so much so that we can't have a good time.
The two altoists proved as compatible in the studio as they had been at the Jazz Party and in Japan. Their sounds -- each among the most identifiable in jazz -- provide an interesting contrast, yet blend well in the ensembles. Woods' tone is biting and urgent, while Carter's is round and mellow. Their solo styles, while different, are also complementary. Woods has the more intense attack. Carter is understated, often
choosing to insinuate rather than stating ideas directly. There are also intriguing similarities. Both have an unerring sense of direction in their solos; while spontaneous, their lines seem to be part of an overall framework. As composers and players, both are supremely melodic -- a quality most readily apparent at slower tempos. And both command a vast harmonic vocabulary which imbues their work with a sense of the unexpected.
In many ways, Carter's and Woods' playing styles mirror their personalities. Unflappable, Benny maintains his regal bearing no matter what calamities may be occurring all around him. Phil seems to operate at twice the speed of a normal human being. At the session, he was brimming with ideas, and his constant stream of wisecracks and anecdotes kept everyone loose (e.g., Chris to Phil, "Have you got a rest at bars three and four?" Phil to Chris: "Why, you got a gig for me?")
Born in 1958, Kenny Washington plays with a maturity that belies his youth. Carter notes, "It's rare to find a drummer at any age with Kenny's taste, subtlety and consistency. He knows how to get into a groove and stay with it." The drummer joined Benny for two weeks in a New York
club immediately preceding this recording. Washington refers to this stint with Carter as "going to school every night." Kenny has certainly done his homework! Over the years the drummer has spent countless hours sequestered in a listening room at the Institute of Jazz Studies, surrounded by stacks of 78s.
"Reet's Neet" is a skillfully crafted swinger written by Woods and previously recorded by him in trio and quartet versions. This is its first performance featuring two horns. Woods has had a great deal of experience in writing for two altos thanks to his close partnership with the late Gene Quill in the 1950s and 1960s. His imaginative arrangement shows just how effective this instrumentation can be. Through the ingeniously voiced lines, the two altos sound like a much larger ensemble. The group generates the feeling of a big band, particularly in the exciting ensemble passages before the outchorus. The solo order is Carter, Woods and Neville, with Mraz's fluid bass surfacing prominently in the penultimate ensemble chorus. The importance of Washington's responsiveness to the soloists and the arrangement cannot be overstated.
"Just a Mood," a lovely Carter ballad, was written in 1936 during Benny's three-year residency in Europe. It was first recorded in Paris by the Willie Lewis Orchestra, which I
This is the jazz recording debut of another relative youngster, pianist Chris Neville, who was born in 1955. Carter discovered the talented Boston-based musician when the pianist was assigned to play with him at the Regatta Bar in Cambridge, Massachusetts. "I was immediately taken with his authority and command of the keyboard," Carter recalls, "in addition to which I heard something different in his playing." Classically trained, Neville was something of a child prodigy, having enrolled in the New England Conservatory of Music at age six. Initially drawn to jazz through Charlie Parker's recordings, he continued his formal studies at the Berklee College of Music and further honed his jazz skills at the University of Maine-Augusta. While living in Maine in the late 1970s and early 1980s, the pianist backed such visiting luminaries as Dizzy Gillespie, Sonny Stitt and Al Cohn. Since moving back to Boston, his associations have included Art Farmer, Buddy DeFranco and Alan Dawson. Neville's tasteful, swinging style reflects elements of his primary influences -- Ahmad Jamal, Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock and Bill Evans - as well as his own fertile imagination.
used the piece as a signature for its radio broadcasts. Carter was featured on alto on the original disc; four months later in London he recorded a version on clarinet. The piece had lain dormant since 1936 until Carter decided to reprise it here. Woods took to it immediately: "That's a killer song! It's one of those things that makes you slap yourself and say, 'Now why didn't I think of that?"' Like so many Carter tunes, "Just a Mood" sounds deceptively simple, but as Phil points out, "it actually predates Thelonious Monk's use of the halfdiminished or minor-seventh flat five that all the beboppers were talking about. Benny was using it before anybody, and in a surprisingly different way." Everyone does a good job of sustaining the poignant mood at a very slow tempo. Carter's harmonization of the two altos highlights the melody without superfluous embellishment. Solos are by Neville, Woods and Carter. The two altos also trade fours for a chorus, with Phil leading off. Since it was impossible to choose between two superb versions, both have been included. (For the discographers, version one was recorded first.)
under the title "Working Eyes," it became "Sultry Serenade" in the late 1940s when it entered the Ellington repertoire. In the 1950s, when a lyric was added, it was recorded as "How Could You Do A Thing Like That To Me?" by Frank Sinatra, among others. Under any title, the catchy melody is an effective vehicle for solos by Benny, Phil, Chris and George. Kenny's infectious drumming underpins a perfect performance.
"Sultry Serenade" was written by the versatile trombonist/vibraphonist Tyree Glenn, a former sideman and good friend of Carter. Originally recorded by the composer
"We Were In Love" might sound as if it were performed by a completely different group. It's still Benny, Phil and company, with Benny on trumpet and Phil on clarinet. Carter fans will recognize the tune as a Carter original, included on his Additions to Further Definitions album from 1966. The New Orleans-flavored treatment here is entirely different, however. During a break, Benny demonstrated the piece at slow tempo, backed only by Chris. The effect was so arresting that it was decided to keep that approach for the recording. After Benny's opening, Phil eases in, taking the lead on the bridge, where he is joined by the bass and drums. Chris' piano is appropriately gospel-tinged. Benny returns, with Phil adding some lovely fills and counterpoint. The two horns blend warmly during the final ensemble. Both Carter and Woods have
distinctive sounds on their "second" instruments. Benny's trumpet is bright and his phrasing relaxed. Phil's clarinet tone is rich and mellifluous. During the playback, Phil smiled and commented, ''This would make one hell of a blindfold test!"
The genesis of the two tributes, "My Man Benny" and "My Man Phil," has already been recounted. The former is another example of Phil's inventive writing for a small group. "I orchestrated it for the whole quintet," Phil notes. "Everyone has a part. There's a written bass part, and I showed Chris the piano voicings I wanted in order to flesh it out. I took the choicest notes I could find for the two altos, and tried to get some contrapuntal things going. There's a lot that can be done with a quintet. Too many groups overlook that potential by just playing the head, going in and out." The result, as on "Reel's Neet," is an ensemble sound that is greater than the sum of its parts. Phil points out that the bridge is "a harmonic doff of the cap" to Carter, using the harmony of the bridge to his famous "When Lights Are Low." The solo order is Phil, Benny, Chris and George. The arrangement makes effective use of space, and once again Kenny Washington displays great sensitivity in his fills, accents and dynamic shadings. Woods has often
acknowledged his musical heroes by dedicating compositions to them (his 1978 album I Remember is comprised entirely of such dedications). But “My Man Benny" is the first such tribute on which the honoree actually plays!
"My Man Phil," Carter's bouquet to Woods, is the latest chapter in Benny's occasional vocal recording career, dating back to 1933. Carter elected not to play on the track, letting Phil take the instrumental spotlight. The composer himself, however, delivers his heartfelt lyric with great elan. Phil enters on cue, with a glissando that has to be heard to be believed. His electrifying solo completely justifies Carter's encomium. Originally planning to take two choruses, Woods, as the lyric says, "sails through" a third. Carter remarked to him afterward, "I was hoping you'd do that, but I didn't want to ask!" The vocalist returns for the final chorus, before Phil's spectacular tag ending. For those who would like to sing along, Carter's lyrics follow:
My man Phil, My man from now until, When he plays he will amaze you with his skill. Cool or hot, To him it matters not.
Old or new, Funk or blue,
He'll sail through.
Adolphe Sax,
Before he made that horn, Knew someday, somewhere a Phil Woods would be born.
Jack or John, Bob or Bill,
Let them say what they will, But goodness knows nobody blows
Like my man Phil.
"M.A. Blues," written by Carter especially for this date, provides the forum for an extended dialogue between the two altos. Solos are by Woods, Neville, Carter and Mraz. Woods then launches an exciting series of trades -- first fours, then twos -which display the great empathy between him and Carter. In keeping with the spirit of the session, the M.A. in the title stands for "Mutual Admiration."
"People Time" is a gorgeous Carter ballad, which he premiered in 1987 with the American Jazz Orchestra. It was recorded under the title "People" as part of the Central City Sketches suite. "I just had to hear Phil play the melody," Carter explains. Woods' opening statement does it full justice. The composer himself solos on
trumpet in the second chorus, which he shares with Neville's tasteful piano.
"I'm Just Wild About Harry" is, of course, the smash hit from Eubie Blake's 1921 show Shuffle Along. At one time perhaps the best-known melody in the country, the tune certainly has not been overplayed in recent years. It proves a surprisingly conducive vehicle for spirited improvisations by Benny, Phil and Chris. Note how Phil picks up on Benny's last phrase and runs with it. Benny and Phil trade fours with Kenny for a chorus, the drummer once again demonstrating his crisp precision and swing. A tongue-incheek ending lends a period flavor to this updated classic.
-Ed Berger
Phil Woods is the leader of the Phil Woods Quintet, which records exclusively for Concord Jazz.
Recorded November 21, 22, 1989, at RCA Studio B, New York City
Produced by Ed Berger
Engineering: Gregory K. Squires and Joe Lopes
Digital editing: Gregory K. Squires
Special thanks to Larry Berger and Jill Goodwin
