Tag Archives: Vinyl

Vinyl Spotlight: Hank Mobley, No Room for Squares (Blue Note 84149) UA RVG Stereo Pressing

  • United Artists stereo reissue circa 1975-1978
  • “VAN GELDER” stamped in dead wax

Personnel:

All but “Up a Step”, “Old World, New Imports”:

  • Lee Morgan, trumpet
  • Hank Mobley, tenor saxophone
  • Andrew Hill, piano
  • John Ore, bass
  • Philly Joe Jones, drums

“Up a Step”, “Old World, New Imports” only:

  • Donald Byrd, trumpet
  • Hank Mobley, tenor saxophone
  • Herbie Hancock, piano
  • Butch Warren, bass
  • Philly Joe Jones, drums

“Up a Step”, “Old World, New Imports” recorded March 7, 1963
All other selections recorded October 2, 1963
All selections recorded at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released May 1964

1 Three Way Split
2 Carolyn
3 Up a Step
4 No Room for Squares
5 Me ‘n You
6 Old World, New Imports

So far on Deep Groove Mono, we’ve covered original pressings, Liberty pressings and early ’70s United Artists pressings of classic albums released by the beloved Blue Note label. This ’70s copy of Hank Mobley’s No Room for Squares with the all-blue label and the white (sometimes black) lowercase “b” logo is more or less the last phase in vintage US Blue Note pressings. (Prior to the current era of audiophile reissue programs, which gained great momentum in the late ’90s with Classic Records, the ’80s and ’90s saw a series of less popular, less acclaimed reissue programs eclipsed by the advent and subsequent reign of the compact disc.) This reissue program also constitutes the last time the original mastering work of engineer Rudy Van Gelder would be used to press reissues of classic Blue Note albums.

As is the case with the earlier mono UA reissues of the early ’70s with the classic blue-and-white label scheme, these all blue-label reissues seem hit or miss. This is at least in part due to the fact that Van Gelder’s metal work was being employed beyond the point where it could produce records of the exceptional quality originals and earlier reissues are known for. Several Blue Note albums I have encountered with all-blue-labels and Van Gelder mastering have been duds, but No Room for Squares is not one of them.

This is one of my favorite Hank Mobley albums. Recorded in 1963, it is far removed from the string of 1500-series albums Mobley recorded for Blue Note in the late fifties, all of which are very rare and in-demand in their original incarnations. Nonetheless, Mobley puts together a solid, consistent program here, best demonstrated by a pair of the leader’s own compositions (the title track and “Three Way Split”) and the ballad “Carolyn”, an original work of session trumpeter Lee Morgan. Then-veteran of the bop scene, drummer Philly Joe Jones, provides a driving and exciting performance on the skins as well.

Though this is a stereo copy, it is tempting to hit the ‘mono’ button on my amplifier in order gain a sense of what an original mono pressing might sound like. The reason we can be fairly certain that this type of summing can produce comparable results is because of what we know about the way Rudy Van Gelder recorded, mixed, and mastered these albums for both mono and stereo. Though the clarity and separation offered by the stereo spread is a treat in its own right, summing to mono provides a glue to the mix that the stereo presentation is incapable of, especially when it comes to the harmonies of the horns.

Vinyl Spotlight: John Coltrane, Coltrane Live at Birdland (Impulse 50) Original Mono Pressing

  • Original 1964 mono pressing
  • “ABC-Paramount” on labels
  • “VAN GELDER” in dead wax

Personnel:

  • John Coltrane, tenor and soprano saxophone
  • McCoy Tyner, piano
  • Jimmy Garrison, bass
  • Elvin Jones, drums

All but “Alabama”, “Your Lady” recorded October 8, 1963 at Birdland, New York, New York
“Alabama”, “Your Lady” recorded November 18, 1963 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ
Originally released April 1964

Generally speaking, I don’t know the Impulse catalog very well, and accordingly I have a harder time keeping track of the ‘first-first pressing’ melee associated with the label. Thus I’m not really sure if this is a ‘first-first pressing’ or just a ‘first pressing’, but it has the Van Gelder stamp of approval and, more importantly, it plays through without the hideous artifacts of groove wear so I’m a happy camper. This copy had a lot of light scuffs when I first looked at it, which is probably what kept the price down, but by the time I got it home and gave it a listen I was happy to find that this was a rare case of a record ‘playing better than it looked’. I am so inspired by the intensity with which John Coltrane played the soprano saxophone during this time period, and “Afro Blue” is a fine example of that passion and vigor.

Vinyl Spotlight: Herbie Hancock, Inventions and Dimensions (Blue Note 84147) Liberty RVG Stereo Pressing

  • Stereo Liberty reissue circa 1966-1970
  • “A DIVISION OF LIBERTY RECORDS, INC.” on both labels
  • “VAN GELDER” stamped in dead wax

Personnel:

  • Herbie Hancock, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Willie Bobo, drums and timbales
  • Osvaldo “Chihuahua” Martinez, conga and bongo

Recorded August 30, 1963 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released February 1964

Although Liberty pressings of most classic Blue Note albums are not original pressings, they still have the potential to sound great. They may lack the Plastylite “P” found in the runout groove of most originals but they do usually brandish the Van Gelder stamp in the runout groove, indicating that they were made from the same master lacquer disk as an original. This stereo copy of Herbie Hancock’s third album for Blue Note may not be a first pressing but it still embodies engineer Rudy Van Gelder’s original mastering work.

Many collectors will shun any vintage Blue Note without the “P”, claiming that its absence takes something away from the listening experience. I beg to differ, having never heard a significant contrast between originals and subsequent Liberty-era pressings sourced from the original metal work. In fact, I have found that Liberty pressings are more likely to sound fresher since they are less likely than originals to have suffered excessive wear.

One does need to be careful of how far they venture away from the original release of an album, however. Van Gelder’s mastering was used well into the late ’70s after Liberty had sold Blue Note to United Artists, and depending on the title, it seems there is an increased chance that the original work parts will have lost some measure of quality by this time. These records are more likely to lack the ‘life’ of earlier pressings (usually a reference to lower distortion and better high-frequency detail).

Despite having heard the popular audiophile criticisms of Rudy Van Gelder’s mastering work, I often find his LP masters to be highly accurate, even, and dynamic. But be careful — you won’t get this experience if you’re listening to a worn record. This particular copy was purchased sealed a couple years back, which I feel makes it a shining example of the mastering engineer’s handiwork, certainly more so than any wear-ridden original.

As for the music, this is my favorite Herbie Hancock album. Every time I listen, I listen from start to finish. Hancock takes an experimental approach to the songwriting here and can often be heard working out ideas on the fly. This leads to frequent use of refrain, a technique that has never been popular with jazz soloists (because of the central role improvisation plays in the genre, jazz musicians often seem driven by an intense desire to constantly invent, which means never sitting on the same phrase for very long at all). My longstanding relationship with sampling and hip hop has made me very accustomed to repetition in instrumentation, which I think has much to do with why I find Hancock’s regular use of refrain here a very welcome break from the bop norm. Bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Willie Bobo intensify the trance-like qualities of the music by locking in on various rhythms throughout, and percussionist Chihuahua Martinez’s timing is rock solid — something crucial in a minimal arrangement like this.

Vinyl Spotlight: Kenny Dorham, Quiet Kenny (New Jazz 8225) OJC Stereo Reissue

  • Original Jazz Classics stereo reissue circa 1986 (catalog no. OJC-250)

Personnel:

  • Kenny Dorham, trumpet
  • Tommy Flanagan, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Art Taylor, drums

Recorded November 13, 1959 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released February 1960

For Collectors

After a couple years of collecting on a budget, the reality of the situation starts to sink in: you won’t be acquiring a first pressing of a holy grail like Kenny Dorham’s Quiet Kenny any time soon.

What makes an album a holy grail? Simply put, a combination of being very rare and very in demand. More specifically, in the case of this overlooked album, it probably has a lot to do with the fact that it didn’t get a proper second U.S. pressing until this version, the 1986 Original Jazz Classics reissue. (According to Discogs, Prestige released a Dorham album in 1970 simply titled 1959 with different album art but the same track listing as the OJC reissue, which includes the originally unreleased “Mack the Knife”.) To give the original even more allure, the tendency for reissue producers to have an overwhelmingly strong preference for stereo has rendered the original the only mono version of this album ever released.

There’s always something about reissues causing them to fall short of the excitement an original provides. Though I avoided Original Jazz Classics reissues for a while for this reason, I eventually relaxed my naïve original pressing snobbery and began considering reissues of favorites that were much too expensive in their first pressing form. I then read about how OJC reissues were by and large considered to be of exceptional sound quality, with the earliest of them guaranteed to be all analog as well (my copy had the original shrink wrap complete with the long rectangular OJC sticker characteristic of OJC albums released in the mid-80s). So I gave these reissues a chance, and by and large they have lived up to my expectations. The artwork and packaging are hit or miss with OJCs, though I think they did a good job with this release, and the fact that the labels mimic those used for the original New Jazz LP is an added bonus.

For Music Lovers

Shortly after I got into jazz, I came across the OJC CD reissue of Quiet Kenny at a local library, and going off the album’s 3.5-star rating in The Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings and its elite status among collectors, I decided to give it a try. Though the music didn’t immediately draw me in, I soon grew to appreciate the minimal arrangement and the big, empty, dark sound of Rudy Van Gelder’s Englewood Cliffs studio. I also have a leaning toward more gentle styles of playing, which, as the title suggests, this album epitomizes.

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey

Quiet Kenny features three Dorham originals: “Blue Friday”, “Blue Spring Shuffle”, and “Lotus Blossom” — not to be confused with “Lotus Flower”, another Dorham composition, a ballad that premiered in 1955 on the ten-inch Blue Note LP Afro-Cuban (BLP 5065). Though “Blue Friday” appears here for the first time, “Lotus Blossom” had first been recorded by Riverside in 1957 with a piano-less quartet led by Dorham (2 Horns, 2 Rhythm, Riverside 255). As much as I enjoy the less busy rendition presented here, the driving pace of the Riverside version along with the harmony offered by Ernie Henry’s sax make the Riverside version tough to beat. “Blue Spring Shuffle” had already been laid to tape as well, appearing several months prior with the truncated title “Blue Spring” on the LP of the same name (Blue Spring, Riverside 297). In this case I hold the more sparse arrangement here in higher regard.

The first track on Quiet Kenny that stood out to me was “Lotus Blossom”, the gentle, uptempo opener. Art Taylor’s solo shines here, the gorgeous sound of which is a combination of the drummer’s well-crafted, finely-tuned kit, Van Gelder’s EMT reverb plate, and the natural ambience of the engineer’s custom-built cathedral-like studio. “My Ideal”, the next song in the sequence, has become one of my favorite jazz ballads. The other ballad, “Alone Together” follows close behind, and overall I find Quiet Kenny to be a solid listen with a clean, sweet sound throughout.

Mono vs. Stereo

Like many Blue Note albums released between the years of 1959 and 1962, every reissue of Quiet Kenny has been stereo despite the original release being exclusively mono. The best explanation for this would be that the album was recorded to two-track tape only. Since Van Gelder didn’t mix down to a separate master tape for mono releases in these instances (all mixing was done on the fly), reissue producers today would only be left with a two-track master tape to work with. And though it’s quite possible that these producers have unanimously preferred the stereo presentation to the mono, they may have also erroneously concluded that the album was monitored and mixed in stereo due to the absence of a mono master tape. But the fact that the inaugural release was strictly in mono strongly suggests the contrary. As a result, the only way to hear this music in mono today short of summing the channels of your stereo is to cough up $2,000+ USD for an original.

Offered here are both the stereo and mono presentations of the opening track for comparison (the mono obviously not being from an original pressing but the summing of the channels on my amplifier). Though the mono is cohesive where the stereo is somewhat disjoint and empty, I find the space created by the stereo spread too beautiful to collapse into a single channel.

Vinyl Spotlight: Jutta Hipp with Zoot Sims (Blue Note 1530) UA Mono Pressing

  • United Artists mono reissue circa 1972-1975
  • “A DIVISION OF UNITED ARTISTS RECORDS, INC.” on both labels

Personnel:

  • Jerry Lloyd, trumpet
  • Zoot Sims, tenor saxophone
  • Jutta Hipp, piano
  • Ahmed Abdul-Malik, bass
  • Ed Thigpen, drums

Recorded July 28, 1956 at Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, New Jersey
Originally released February 1957

1 Just Blues
2 Violets for Your Furs
3 Down Home
4 Almost Like Being in Love
5 Wee-Dot
6 Too Close for Comfort

For Collectors

This LP didn’t pique my interest until I saw an original pressing on the wall at an esteemed Manhattan record shop last fall. Though I was unfamiliar with the music, I knew of the record’s ‘holy grail’ status. Needless to say, I was intrigued. At this point in my time collecting I felt confident handling such an expensive piece, and when I removed the vinyl from the sleeve it was beautiful — Lexington Ave. labels, flat edge, deep groove, all the trimmings. When I got home later that evening I gave it a listen on Spotify and quickly realized how fun and animated the music was. Though I had never spent anywhere near the asking price on a record before, the thought that I may never see the record again eventually captivated my mind, so I arranged an in-store audition.

I set out with cash in hand, ready to make what I believed to be a respectable offer. When I got to the store, I took a more careful look at the record before it played. Visually it was beautiful with only some light scuffing. When side 1 began, the music sounded loud and present and I liked what I heard. The second song, the ballad “Violets for Your Furs”, was quieter though, and revealed light yet consistent surface noise. The owner said the record had been cleaned, which was a bit disconcerting in consideration of the noise I was hearing. I began listening more carefully, and by the time the needle got to trumpeter Jerry Lloyd’s solo on “Down Home”, the last song on the first side, the deal was dead, as inner groove distortion was evident. I thanked the owner for his time and left the shop a (much) wealthier person.

At this point I knew I loved the music, so I picked up the Classic Records reissue. It sounded great, but I still wanted to see if there was something I was missing out on that could only be provided by a younger, fresher master tape. So I sought out the copy you see here, an early ‘70s United Artists copy (technically the second ever pressing of the album). Ultimately, the master tape sounded similar with both pressings and I decided to keep the UA.

(Note: The following two paragraphs were updated June 2024.) At this point it is clear that at least some of these UA mono LPs were exported for sale in Japan, as many copies can still be found with Japanese “OBI” stickers. The common cut corners with these records signal either promotional use or discounted/no-returns status. Additionally, although these early ’70s Blue Note reissues are some of the earliest to not be mastered by Rudy Van Gelder, Liberty Records had begun using other mastering engineers as early as 1966. But who mastered many of these United Artists reissues remains a mystery.

Some of these US reissues are not sourced from the original tapes. According to Blue Note archivist Michael Cuscuna, United Artists would have been the first parent label to demand that Blue Note’s original master tapes be duplicated (sometimes with Dolby noise reduction) in the event that the tape was beginning to flake. (This is why original copies of classic Blue Note albums with Van Gelder mastering are so valuable: there is no debating that they were made using first generation tapes shortly after the recording sessions.) But this myriad of possibilities doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on the quality of this particular finished product, the results of which can be heard in the needledrops above.

For Music Lovers

To stand out in the testosterone-overrun world of instrumental jazz, it certainly didn’t hurt that German-born pianist Jutta (pronounced “Yoo-ta”) Hipp was a woman. That’s probably what esteemed jazz critic Leonard Feather was thinking in 1954 when he began nurturing the undiscovered talent. After hearing a friend’s recording of her, Feather booked studio time in Germany for the 29-year-old redheaded bopper (New Faces – New Sounds from Germany, Blue Note 5056), then arranged for Hipp to come to New York City in November 1955 for a residency at the Hickory House on East 52nd Street. The six-month stretch that followed proved quite an eventful time for the pianist. She was recorded on location by Blue Note in April (Jutta Hipp at the Hickory House, BLP 1515/6), and amongst the plethora of world-renowned jazz musicians whose acquaintance she had the pleasure of making, Hipp was reunited with tenor saxophonist Zoot Sims, whom she had originally jammed with on the Continent a few years back when Sims was on tour with bandleader Stan Kenton.

Hipp woud eventually be asked to assemble a combo for a Blue Note session at the label’s holy house of sound, engineer Rudy Van Gelder’s home recording studio in Hackensack, New Jersey. Sims would be recruited along with drummer Ed Thigpen, the backbone of Hipp’s Hickory House trio. Trumpeter Jerry Lloyd came along with Sims and bassist Ahmed Abdul-Malik entered the equation as well. Overseen by Alfred Lion, a fellow German native, the session commenced in late July 1956 and produced the entirety of the LP in a single day.

The band warmed up with a pair of ballads: the Matt Dennis-Tom Adair composition “Violets for Your Furs” (first recorded by Frank Sinatra two years prior), and the standard “These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)”. The former took what was perhaps a nervous Hipp four takes to get through, and while the time constraints of the LP format wouldn’t allow the latter on to the original release, it would surface for the first time 40 years later along with George Gershwin’s “’S Wonderful” on the 1996 Connoisseur Series compact disc.

Sims and Hipp rehearsing at Van Gelder Studio

Hours later, by the time seven songs were laid to tape, the session was all but complete when Sims would have suggested the band riff on an up-tempo twelve-bar progression of his choosing. The result was “Just Blues”, and the track proved to be so much fun that it would later be chosen as the album’s opener. (In a review for All About Jazz, critic Chris M. Slawecki quipped, “Sims contributed the opening “Just Blues”, although he apparently couldn’t be bothered to title it,” which provokes the comical image of Lion turning to Sims for the title after the take with Sims shrugging and humbly replying, “Just blues.”)

The album would eventually make it to store shelves seven months later in February 1957. But by this time Hipp had mysteriously disappeared from the scene, and without star power to drive album sales, the sides wouldn’t be repressed until the glory days of hard bop were long over, rendering the original LP a figment to the vast majority of the jazz record collecting populous.

On first listen, the music here may sound a bit old-fashioned when held up to other cutting edge jazz albums recorded in 1956, but the consistently fun vibe of Jutta Hipp with Zoot Sims proves difficult to deny. Sims would assume the unofficial role of leader that day, bringing a playful, infectious energy to the studio, and Hipp rose to the occasion despite known confidence issues. Thigpen, who would go on to form one-third of the legendary Oscar Peterson Trio, provides a steady, driving rhythm throughout, putting the soloists in the zone with inspiring momentum on more upbeat tunes like “Just Blues”, Lloyd’s “Down Home” and the J.J. Johnson composition “Wee Dot”.

Drummer Ed Thigpen

The recording itself is one of Rudy Van Gelder’s finest. By 1956 the engineer had finally backed off the quirky artificial spring reverb that hinders many of his earliest recordings, allowing listeners to hear the natural ambience of the Hackensack living room in all its makeshift glory. Soft, warm cymbals also define Van Gelder’s sound during this period, giving the music a unique, almost cartoony character. For the finishing touch, Reid Miles provided some of his most iconic design: a colorful, modern jumble of rectangles primitively imitating the keys of a piano (the cover has proven so iconic it has found a home in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City).

Sadly, this was the last time Hipp would enter a recording studio. At some point the pianist became jaded by the music industry, retreating to Queens to work in a textile factory. She returned to her first creative passion, painting, and lived alone there until 2003 when she passed away due to terminal illness. There are only a few recordings of the German phenom to be heard as a result, and we should be grateful for this particular shining example of her talents.

Vinyl Spotlight: John Coltrane, Giant Steps (Atlantic 1311) Mono vs. Stereo Edition

  • Fifth mono pressing circa 1966
  • Orange & purple label
  • Box logo side 1; black fan logo side 2
  • Side 1/2 matrix: 11637-A “AT” / 11638-A “AT”

VERSUS!

  • Second stereo pressing circa 1960-1962
  • Green & blue label
  • Deep groove on both sides
  • White fan logo on both sides
  • Side 1/2 matrix: AVCO ST-A-59201 / AVCO ST-A-59202

Personnel:

All but “Naima”:

  • John Coltrane, tenor saxophone
  • Tommy Flanagan, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Art Taylor, drums

“Naima” only:

  • John Coltrane, tenor saxophone
  • Wynton Kelly, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Jimmy Cobb, drums

All but “Naima” recorded May 4-5, 1959; “Naima” recorded December 2, 1959
All selections recorded at Atlantic Records’ 56th Street studio, NYC
Originally released January 1960

1 Giant Steps
2 Cousin Mary
3 Countdown
4 Spiral
5 Syeeda’s Song Flute
6 Naima
7 Mr. P.C.
Behold! Deep Groove Mono offers up its first ever head-to-head comparison. Here we take a listen to vintage mono and stereo pressings of the classic John Coltrane album Giant Steps. I had the mono LP first, but I liked the original stereo CD so much that when I saw this stereo LP for a great price I couldn’t pass it up.

Tom Dowd

Giant Steps was recorded at Atlantic’s infamous 56th Street “office studio” under the supervision of legendary recording engineer Tom Dowd. According to the album’s liner notes, it was recorded to an Ampex 300-8R eight-track tape recorder, the results of which are two distinct i.e. ‘dedicated’ mixes, meaning the mono mix is not a ‘fold-down’.

The mono: Coltrane is front and center in this dark, bass-y mix. Trane and pianist Tommy Flanagan sit in good relationship to each other, though Paul Chambers’ bass doesn’t have a whole lot of definition, and Art Taylor’s drums get a bit buried behind Coltrane’s screaming presence.

The stereo: No instruments are presented center here, which for better or worse takes something away from Trane’s presence. (I doubt that Dowd was not yet privy to the theory of the ‘phantom center image’, and I can’t help but wonder why he was still not utilizing the center at this time.) Chambers’ bass still lacks good definition, though the spread gives Taylor more room to cut through. My first version of this album was the original 1990 stereo CD and I always appreciated how well I could hear the nuances in Taylor’s drumming in the stereo mix (I especially love the detail of the ride cymbal).

Head-to-head: On speakers, both mixes sound quite full, but in headphones the stereo version’s wide spread and its emphasis on the bass and treble leaves the mono feeling quite thin. However, Coltrane commands more presence in the mono mix, not only because he has been shifted from the far left to the center, but the mono also seems to favor the midrange, where the saxophone’s timbre is largely defined. This is probably why I feel that Coltrane sounds a bit muffled in the stereo mix when compared to the mono.

The verdict: Through speakers, both mixes sound great to me and I’d be happy to own either copy if I didn’t have a choice. But while I can only assume that most die-hard Coltrane fans will prefer the leader’s stronger presence in the mono mix, I personally love hearing all the nuances of Taylor’s kit in the stereo mix through headphones, which is probably why this is my favorite listening experience overall.

To play us out, I have included “Naima” as an added bonus because it is simply one of my favorite ballads of all-time. I chose the mono version because I find that the tune’s sparse composition works better without all the ‘empty space’ inherent in the stereo mix.

How They Heard It: Blue Note Records and the Transition from Mono to Stereo

Several years ago, when I first became a collector of vintage jazz records, I was confused. Original mono copies of albums from Blue Note’s classic catalog were significantly more expensive than their stereo counterparts, yet virtually all the talk online was of the original “stereo” master tapes for these sessions. Why then were the mono copies so much more valuable than the stereo copies if the albums were recorded to two-track tape?

I set out to find the answer, and soon discovered that there was a good amount of misunderstanding amongst audiophiles and record collectors regarding the methods of Blue Note’s exclusive recording and mastering engineer, Rudy Van Gelder. Realizing how historically and culturally important these recordings are, I decided to make a more formal study of the issue, and the results were published on the London Jazz Collector website in July of this year.

Shortly after publishing, I decided that the article could be made much more efficient, and last month London Jazz Collector published the revised version of the article. The new version is more concise and hopefully easier to understand. Click on the link below to check it out!

Vinyl Spotlight: Blue Mitchell, The Thing to Do (Blue Note 4178) Original Mono Pressing

  • Original 1965 mono pressing
  • “NEW YORK USA” on both labels
  • Plastylite “P” etched and “VAN GELDER” stamped in dead wax
  • “43 West 61st St., New York 23” address on jacket

Personnel:

  • Blue Mitchell, trumpet
  • Junior Cook, tenor sax
  • Chick Corea, piano
  • Gene Taylor, bass
  • Al Foster, drums

Recorded July 30, 1964 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released May 1965

For Collectors

If you’ve read my first “Perspective” article here on Deep Groove Mono, you already know the story of how I acquired this record, which is special to me because it was the first vintage Blue Note album I ever heard that truly embodied the legendary “Blue Note sound”. And how about that cover? The symmetry, the cool blue on the dead black background, and the detailed shot of Blue’s hands on his trumpet make for a winning combination in my book.

For Music Lovers

I’m a huge Horace Silver fan, and I have always enjoyed the work of Blue Mitchell and tenor saxophonist Junior Cook as members of the Horace Silver Quintet. Mitchell had been working with Silver for four solid years the first time he entered the studio as a leader for Blue Note in August 1963 for a session including Joe Henderson and Herbie Hancock (for some reason, the recordings were shelved for nearly two decades). Two months later in the fall of ’63 though, Blue, Junior, and Quintet bassist Gene Taylor would have their last hurrah recording with Silver on a date producing two takes which would eventually find their way to Song for My Father. I haven’t read anything regarding the musicians’ parting of ways, but one can only guess it was peaceful, especially in light of the fact that Blue had jammed with Henderson, Cook’s replacement, before Silver.

Nine months later in the summer of 1964, Blue, 34 at the time, got Cook and Taylor together with a couple bright and budding musicians who would go on later to obtain global exposure with Miles Davis. 23-year-old Chick Corea had only recorded a handful of times when he arrived at Englewood Cliffs that day, and the 21-year-old Al Foster had yet to even set foot in a recording studio. But the pair rose to the challenge of this big-league outing with grace and poise, and their youthful energy ultimately steal the show on The Thing to Do.

If you think the head of the album opener, “Fungii Mama”, sounds zany or perhaps even corny, don’t let it deter you so quickly. Cook leads off with an inspiring solo, and Blue provides a fun improvisation of his own songwriting work. Corea eventually delivers a solo that is both fun and ambitious, and Foster follows with a challenging juxtaposition of the downbeat that causes the head to make a startling and exciting return. It’s a real treat to hear the young drummer’s rock-solid, driving latin rhythm throughout, and the tension created by each return to the bridge is a most welcome harmonic excursion.

My personal pick though is “Step Lightly”. The song was first recorded on the aforementioned 1963 date with Henderson and Hancock, but the overall vibe remains the same here. This track never really stood out to me until I recently heard it on a cloudy weekday afternoon off from work. The lazy tempo and bluesy melody complemented the mood so perfectly I instantly felt like I understood Henderson’s intentions as the song’s composer.

Sonically, this album is an example of Rudy Van Gelder at his best. The recording giant got a very nice piano sound here, and the natural reverberation of the Englewood Cliffs studio sounds heavenly, especially during Foster’s solo on “Fungii”. For those who don’t know, I’m a drum guy, and as such I recommend paying close attention to how tight and well-tuned Foster’s tom-toms sound here. (That’s one thing I love about classic jazz: the drum kits were made with care, the drummers took their craft seriously enough to tune their kits regularly, and you can hear the difference!)

Overall, I think the songwriting on this album is solid (Jimmy Heath’s title track included), and it gives us a rare glimpse of the vigorous, hungry duo of Corea and Foster on a straight-ahead bop date preceding their respective moves into free jazz and fusion. I personally need to be in the right mood to enjoy a record like The Thing to Do with its don’t-take-yourself-too-seriously-type attitude. But when I’m in that mood, these sides are as good as any.