Dave Brubeck We Are All Together Again for the First Time Sd1641

© Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

"Although the billing of the group is 'The Dave Brubeck Trio featuring Gerry Mulligan,' Brubeck invariably refers to information technology as "the quartet." He is thinking of it now in more long range terms than when information technology was commencement put together in the spring of 1968 to play a few concerts in Charlotte, New Orleans and Mexico City. Then Mulligan seemed to be a visitor whose identify might exist taken past someone else at other concerts. Just he is settling in as a regular part of the format.

'I never idea that things would work out this way with Gerry,' Dave admitted. 'He hates piano players.'"

- Willis Johnson, liner notes to Blues Roots, CBS CS 9749].

This post deals with an interlude in the career of two of Modernistic Jazz's most pregnant innovators, one which cast them together on and off over a v year flow [1968-72] and resulted in five LPs with Jack Half-dozen on bass and drummer Alan Dawson on which they create some of the most original solos in their storied careers.

Both Dave Brubeck and Gerry Mulligan were equally accomplished as instrumentalists every bit well as composers, but it was the latter skill in support of one another that took them to a higher level of improvisation on these recordings.

The exuberance, energy and enthusiasm between the two is about palpable. Sometimes information technology gets to a bespeak where it bubbles over. "Gerry," Dave explained, "loves to play and he gets very impatient. He keeps coming in on my solos all the time and I'm kind of digging it. Paul Desmond never interrupted me and I never interrupted Paul. But now I am kickoff to interrupt Gerry."

"In the old quartet, Paul and I left each other solitary in our solos. For awhile nosotros had some improvised counterpoint just that kind of faded away considering we liked the rhythm guys to stay out of it and they got bored."

"Only in this group nobody cares if the bass player is on the roof or if the drummer keeps the beat, so we can make the transition to complete freedom. At present we're going more and more to gratis improvisation. Sometimes we really audio like this new arroyo, just the way nosotros do it is harder because we go along a structure underneath so the listener has something to chronicle to." [ Excerpts from Willis Johnson'due south liner notes to Blues Roots, CBS CS 9749].

© Copyright ® Jerome Klinkowitz, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

"The spring of 1968 found Gerry Mulligan and Dave Brubeck in parallel situations at similar points in their musical careers. Although a few years older than the baritone saxophonist, Brubeck had risen to prominence almost simultaneously with Mulligan. Their two quartets helped set the tone for fifties jazz, and into the sixties both players continued to develop in styles building on the principles of "white" jazz music—that is, with techniques drawing more than on the classical European approach than on African or black American influences.

Equally American society was itself transformed in the years surrounding 1968, this orientation became more than critical, for while broad segments of the culture were turning to a more rhythm-and-blues-based music, Mulligan sought pop roots in the Beatles and Roger Miller, while the Brubeck quartet'south hiply intellectual penchant for tweaking the nose of popular culture with such projects as Dave Digs Disney (which really made successful jazz renditions of such tunes every bit "Heigh Ho" and "Some Twenty-four hours My Prince Volition Come") continued unabated with such albums as Gone with the Wind (which included "Camptown Races") and Annihilation Goes! The Dave Brubeck Quartet Plays Cole Porter . For the general public, Brubeck's quartet had meant "jazz" for seventeen years, and its readily identifiable sound and stylistic approach guaranteed the success of these otherwise novel projects.

This strong indentifiability, all the same, could hands plough into a rut, making other styles of expression unlikely or impossible. And so in 1967 Brubeck disbanded his quartet, which had featured Paul Desmond, Gene Wright, and Joe Morello for so many years that their collective presence had go a virtual trademark of mainstream jazz, and turned instead to several classically based private projects. His situation, and then, matched Mulligan's, though for different reasons. Gerry's Concert Jazz Band did non tape subsequently Dec 1962, only not for reasons such as its leader's wish to explore new frontiers, unfettered by his previous way. Instead, economical demands had nipped the CJB almost in the bud, just as cancer had taken Judy Holiday's life before she and Gerry could interact on more than half-a-dozen recorded songs and 1 produced album featuring their fabric and others'. Nonetheless, Brubeck and Mulligan constitute themselves suddenly lonely in 1968, uninvolved in ongoing groups and gigs for the first time in their professional lives.

Nonetheless they were however Dave Brubeck and Gerry Mulligan, and by spring the country'south leading jazz promoter, George Wein, was approaching Brubeck to collect on a promise to appear at the Mexican version of Wein'south Newport Jazz Festival. Because a like package jubilant the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City soon expanded the commitment to four additional appearances, Brubeck decided to forgo touring every bit a unmarried and assemble a grouping instead. Bassist Jack Six had worked with him on his classical performances, and George Wein suggested drummer Alan Dawson. Considering Mulligan was already being included on the tour equally a featured attraction, Brubeck elected to meld the two acts equally "The Dave Brubeck Trio Featuring Gerry Mulligan." With 2 warm-upward concerts in Charlotte and New Orleans, the four players ready out for United mexican states and the anthology that would appear as Compadres: The Dave Brubeck Trio Featuring Gerry Mulligan (Columbia CS-9704).

Brubeck's and Mulligan'southward histories had intersected at several previous points, but their unison was still surprising — and, to the anticipation of some ears, potentially jarring. Their respective groups had shared concert stages many times earlier, dating back to the California Concerts program of 1954 when the Brubeck quartet would play the evening's first one-half followed by Mulligan's combo later on the intermission. And of course Mulligan and Desmond had recorded two total albums together. At that place had fifty-fifty been an occasion, when Desmond was temporarily out of action with dental work, in which Mulligan took his place within the Brubeck quartet and its repertoire. Nonetheless Mulligan meeting Brubeck would be an affair entirely dissimilar from a blowing session with Paul Desmond, for it had been in affiliation with the classically trained pianist that found Desmond at his abstract brainiest. Mulligan had made his beginning claim to fame by publicly renouncing the piano and its supposedly inhibiting effect; now he was to piece of work in tandem with one of the era's most distinctive and imposing keyboard figures—not a light-fingered session homo willing to add the minimum of rhythmic fills just a self-described heavy-handed and chordally inclined master, whose voice and presence in the quartet had been even more forceful than the group's horn. Mulligan himself took pride in the commanding presence and distinctive vocalization of his own solo playing, plus he was bringing three compositions to fill up out well-nigh half of this first album'south program. The possibilities for a collision were certainly present.

• Dave Brubeck-Gerry Mulligan: "Jumping Bean," "Adios, Mari-quita Linda," "Indian Song," "Tender Woman," "Amapola," "Lullaby de United mexican states," "Sapito," and "Recuerdo," from Compadres , Columbia CS-9704, May 1968. Gerry Mulligan: baritone saxophone; Dave Brubeck: piano; Jack Six: bass; Alan Dawson: drums.

Although the two players never did collide, towering strengths makes Compadres and the four other American albums (recorded through 1972) successful. Their debut number, Mulligan's own "Jumping Edible bean," depends upon it for effect. No easy Mulligan Meets Brubeck melody in the fashion of the elementary little ditties composed to get a blowing session underway, this piece is rhythmically complex and hard striking in the sharp attack information technology demands from both lead instruments, creating a state of affairs in which both the piano and baritone sax must play in a percussive manner. For this attack to work, neither player tin back off in favor of the other; similar a synchronized gainsay team, each must slug information technology out ahead with an implicit trust that the other will be in place. Mulligan'southward solo in particular sustains this mood; where he might be expected to drift, he takes direction from the song's emphatic rhythm, a stutter-and-clash affair that precludes lots of lazily flowing notes and demands that he arroyo his horn similar its bass clef cousins in the bottom reaches of the orchestra. Between Brubeck'southward solid left hand and Jack Six's determined playing, the just manner open for Mulligan'southward piece of work is within their rhythmic structures. But rather than feeling confined, his solo assumes management and functions as the equivalent of Brubeck's pounding pianoforte.

Adept pacing of a concert demands contrasting textile, and in structuring the anthology's first side Mulligan and Brubeck turn to the slower, smoothly swinging (over a Latin rhythm) "Adios, Mariquita Linda." Its melody is a stiff and familiar one, coming directly from the Mexican culture to which the two composers refer in the originals they've brought along. Partially for this reason, Mulligan keeps his solo very close to the tune; but his true-blue reflection of the song's melodic nature is also a sign that he likes it, and much like his playing on the Beatles and Roger Miller tunes from a few albums dorsum his confident playing of the vocal'due south original line confirms that there has been something in it akin to his own way of handling a score. How Mulligan handles a vocal that invites more inventive soloing is made clear on the next number, Brubeck's "Indian Vocal," which returns to the harshly percussive style with which the album began, hither augmented by the drummer'southward imposition of a half-dozen/8 time signature. Within this radically different context Mulligan takes pains to construct a definite, articulate melodic line of his own, for in its rhythmic busyness this is just what the song itself lacks. Thanks to Mulligan'southward strong solo, Brubeck tin can take a more than contemplative turn himself, exploring a prepare of classical exercises that the number never could have borne without Gerry's self-invented melody intervening.

The balance of Compadres benefits from this complementarity. When the number demands information technology, the 2 men tin play together forcefully, their two instruments creating as much drive and presence as a much larger ensemble. Such is the effect in "Amapola," the closest they come to straight out blowing on this showtime LP. More often, the two support each other's more subtle work, especially on an older Mulligan composition that had been waiting for just such an advisable premiere: "Lullaby de Mexico," a frail limerick in the way of Brubeck's own "Tender Adult female" from the first side. In both cases the numbers' careful construction and almost fragile structure demand that the two players work in nearly duet form, each offering a gentle absorber to the other's gestures toward a melody that would collapse if overstated. Mulligan'southward clear lead distinguishes both pieces, and his solos sustain the compositional mood throughout. His ain "Lullaby" asks bari and piano to play together at the end, and their gentleness is all the more remarkable in view of the immense power unleashed in earlier numbers.

If Compadres has a weak link, information technology is Mulligan'south "Sapito," which comes across as a novelty piece; moreover, information technology'southward faster pace and plethora of notes force the bari to struggle a bit, hardly a situation that Hatters its composer. But this solitary lapse is more than compensated past the beauty of "Recuerdo," Brubeck's tonally haunting and rhythmically complex ballad. Though piano and sax begin the piece together, the two players soon divide for their ain approaches — Mulligan taking a strongly melodic solo, Brubeck relying on his personal, classical way both for thematic and rhythmic improvisation. From the perspective of two decades, the material called for Compadres might seem a bit patronizing; although George Wein made much of Brubeck's reputation in Mexico, that country's audiences were not treated to the master playing his ain famous material but rather horsing around with supposedly nativistic songs, which to some ears could sound like a vaudevillian parody of Hispanic rhythms and themes. To their credit, neither Brubeck nor Mulligan permit their solos exist over directed by this Mexicali impulse, only that fact makes information technology even more evident that the Spanish flavor of their tunes is mere window dressing. Simply on Brubeck'southward "Indian Song" and Mulligan's "Lullaby de United mexican states" is their playing strongly influenced by the vocal itself, and in both cases these compositions predate the bout's occasion. And and then, even as Mulligan makes a decided turn away from the 1960s promotional style that had threatened to compromise his work, the festival influence lingers as a pressure to slant material and performances to a evidence-biz impression of what audiences want and await.

• Dave Brubeck-Gerry Mulligan: "Limehouse Blues," "Journey," "Cross Ties," "Broke Blues," "Things Ain't What They Used to Exist" "Movin' Out," and "Blues Roots," from Dejection Roots , Columbia CS-9749, 1969. Aforementioned personnel as May 1968 in a higher place.

Of the 5 American-issued Brubeck-Mulligan albums, iv are concert or festival performances (iii of them away, where the pressures to conform to supposed audience expectations are fifty-fifty stronger). Hence their single LP done in the studio, Blues Roots , takes on a strongly dissimilar graphic symbol from the others, since for once the ii giants are immediately responsible merely to themselves. The result is past far their most idiosyncratic anthology and maybe Mulligan's near avant-gardist project to date, for the seven cuts button the dejection structure to its most abstract limits. Each number chooses ane facet —  rhythm, tune, the chromatic nature of chord changes — and explores it with a thoroughness commonly not institute exterior of the classical conservatory. Such a mode comes naturally to the formally trained Brubeck, a student of Darius Milhaud, but for Mulligan — who learned his theory in the bands of Tommy Tucker and Johnny Warrington — the undertakings of Blues Roots brand for a radically new experience. On his Jimmy Witherspoon anthology Mulligan had explored the blues from its roots in popular culture, but at present more abstract and theoretical questions were being brought to the table. For the opener, "Limehouse Blues," the percussive aspect of the idiom gets major, almost exclusive emphasis. Brubeck takes the offset phrase by literally pounding out a single chord in identify of the song's melodic line, at the same time that Mulligan reduces his own instrument to its virtually basic function, sustaining a lesser-of-his-horn depression annotation throughout. As the piece develops, the ii players augment rather than develop their roles, Brubeck's piano taking on a syncopated hitting of ii chords while Mulligan's bari hits on just the opposite trounce to create a solid wall of sound, nearly all of which is percussive in nature. The effect is intentionally jarring, not at all what listeners have come to expect from this classic at the centre of jazz's nigh traditional canon, just appropriate nevertheless every bit a distillation of the song'due south cardinal element — much like an infrared photo that highlights the about prominent features of a topography, or an expressionistic canvas capturing the more extreme reaction of a painter's hidden feelings.

How of import that percussive effect is becomes articulate with the second number, Mulligan's ain "Journeying," which forgoes all except the nearly casual rhythmic support in order to emphasize the lyrical bluesiness of his horn. Here his playing is relaxed and more characteristically simple, which yields an interesting result: at this stride, with the rhythm flowing smoothly instead of percussively forceful. Mulligan'due south songwriting capabilities carry his own solo through to its lyric completion, while in these circumstances Brubeck, forced to a lighter bear upon, relies on the conservatory approach of chordal permutations and rhythmic symmetry. Notwithstanding Brubeck proves himself as abstract, admitting in a more modernistic way, on his own limerick, "Cross Ties." Played in a brisk 3/4 (which yields the rhythmic feeling of 5, even though the solos and melody have a 3-to-the-bar cast), the pianoforte begins by playing on top of the rhythm only gradually drifting away from it into stutters and spurts of percussively phrased lines. Mulligan takes these at face value and adds his own spice to the potpourri, much as Paul Desmond delighted in doing on the Two of a Mind LP. Mulligan goes to the extent of adopting Desmond's practice of double-tracking a third melodic line (at which indicate the rhythm backs off to allow the piano line and the two baris to create an atonal, partially arhythmic effect). When the bass joins them with a quaternary line, while the drums introduce diverse other rhythms to which the piano responds, the dejection construction is stretched almost across recognizable course.

This meridian of abstraction is sustained through Teo Macero's "Bankrupt Blues," a five-minute practice in which Brubeck (plain on harpsichord) sets a classical mode within which Mulligan plays a bizarre line, much similar the Bach-inspired numbers from the Brubeck quartet's earlier Jazz Impressions of Eurasia LP. What anchors the Age of Enlightenment arroyo is the fact that all four instruments play constantly throughout the piece, with no apparent solos past any one musical instrument. Rather, in the Bach tradition, all four solo simultaneously, the interweavings of their lines taking complementary paths thank you to the composition's rationalistic design.

With the album'southward 2nd approved blues, "Things Own't What They Used to Be," Brubeck and Mulligan take on the challenge of another slice whose traditionally most defies any further distillation. Johnny Hodges's composition does survive nearly to the end, when subsequently some legitimate swinging by both Brubeck and Mulligan the piano starts wandering away from the tune's loping footstep in favor of some random-sounding phrases that, endeavor as they might, fail to deconstruct the vocal. A faster pace keeps things moving across such temptations in Brubeck's "Movin' Out," where Mulligan'due south horn stretches the outer limits of each four-bar change without e'er sounding intellectually dense. By comparing, Mulligan's experiments with the chromatic structure of "Things Own't What They Used to Be" are more extreme, nonetheless when the pianoforte and bari assemble for some polyphony toward the stop of Brubeck's song the tonality in one case again begins to wander. It makes sense, therefore, that the anthology concludes with Mulligan's "Blues Roots," the solid wailing of which prompts Brubeck to lay copper strips across his musical instrument's strings to brand it sound like a thumbtacked honky-tonk piano. Mulligan'south playing emphasizes the iv-to-the-bar beat, enhanced by piano, bass, and drums hitting the rhythmic roots while his sax does a minimal amount of sliding around in between.

Equally on the Compadres album, Blues Roots distinguishes itself equally anything but a traditional horn and piano-trio album. Once over again, Brubeck's instrument has spotlighted itself as much as Mulligan's; inside the itemize of Gerry's work, only his meeting with Thelonious Monk carries the same impression, for in terms of relative dominance he might every bit well take been playing with some other horn.

• Dave Brubeck-Gerry Mulligan; "Things Own't What They Used to Be," "The Sermon on the Mount," "Indian Vocal," "Limehouse Dejection," and "Lullaby de Mexico," from L ive at the Berlin Philharmonie, Columbia KC-32143, seven Nov 1970. Aforementioned personnel as May 1968 above.

The distillation cistron yields especially good results on the adjacent Brubeck-Mulligan album, taken from performances during the Berlin Jazz days in 1970. With one exception, the selections are drawn from Compadres and Blues Roots , merely finalities of each previous anthology cross-fertilize each other and produce a synthesis of solid performative jazz. "Things Ain't What They Used to Be" and specially "Limehouse Dejection" lose some of their avant-garde abstraction in favor of the Mexican anthology'southward more than exuberant sense of swing, while "Indian Vocal" is redistilled to emphasize its rhythmic properties, and "Lullaby de Mexico" is explored in terms of dynamics and tonalities, its compositional parts existence disassembled before the audition'southward ears.

Like the Compadres effort, Live at the Berlin Combo is solidly presentational. The emphasis is on maintaining a sense of swing throughout, and any tendencies to tamper with structure serve only to energize farther the "live" nature of this performance. As if to emphasize the roundly swinging nature of "Things Ain't What They Used to Exist," Mulligan jumps correct into the get-go phrase with a super-imposition of the Ellington baud's other rolling number, "Don't Become Around Much Any More than"; both his and Brubeck's solos maintain this expansive sense of swing until only before the end, when some sax-pianoforte polyphony threatens to become abstract, until the out chorus brings things back to the solid Johnny Hodges idiom. Brubeck's "Indian Song," ane of the more successful pieces from Compadres, is here presented with an even greater emphasis on rhythm, to the extent that Alan Dawson'southward long drum solo fits in naturally with its presentation. In both numbers Brubeck's tendencies toward the percussive aspects of piano do not become a thing in themselves merely are instead enlisted in support of the song's rhythm — swinging in the first, staccato in the 2d. Information technology is a sure sign of the new quartet offset to gel.

There may exist some slackening of avant-gardist endeavor in this fresh synthesis, but not too much. The clinking pounding that made "Limehouse Blues" such a jarring affair on Blues Roots is now limited to just the get-go few bars, after which Brubeck settles back into such a traditional treatment that the festival audience can applaud in recognition of its familiar theme; what gestures there are toward an abstract agreement of the song's percussive and tonal elements are reserved for occasional interpolations with the baritone, a much less dogmatic approach than taken on Blues Roots.

When Brubeck and Mulligan wish to highlight a special event, it becomes the quality of sound itself; "Lullaby de United mexican states" is reshaped for this performance to emphasize its dynamics and phraseology, while Brubeck'due south original (and the album's i new piece) "The Sermon on the Mountain" forgoes any developing rhythmic and melodic structure in favor of spotlighting the stirring beauty of Mulligan's deep-voiced horn, the playing of which comes closest to creating something out of nothing.

• Dave Brubeck-Gerry Mulligan: "Blues for Newport," "Take 5," and "Open the Gates," from The Last Gear up at Newport, Atlantic SD-1607, 3 July 1971. Aforementioned personnel as May 1968 above.

Following their 1970 Berlin advent, Mulligan and Brubeck collaborated on ii more albums, each of them taped at festival appearances: The Last Set at Newport from 3 July 1971, and the reunion with Paul Desmond given the apt title We're All Together Again For the Kickoff Time, a collection of takes from late Oct and early on Nov 1972 in Berlin, Paris, and Rotterdam. On these LPs Mulligan's direction is clear, taking less of a creative role in the Brubeck combo while showing evidence of writing for his own new group, which had recorded the Age of Steam album in the months preceding Newport. Because of the authorisation of Brubeck'due south own material and his stiff playing on the first LP and the presence of Desmond on the second, these productions fit more squarely in the canon of the Dave Brubeck Quartet than they exercise in Mulligan'southward—for in one case the group'due south formal name, "The Dave Brubeck Quartet Featuring Gerry Mulligan," seems advisable.

Comprising merely 3 numbers. The Final Set at Newport is definitely Brubeck's affair, from the retrospective wait at "Take Five" (the first time Mulligan would be asked to play an sometime Brubeck classic, and a Paul Desmond composition at that) through the opening "Blues for Newport" (a blues credited to Brubeck) to the leader's symphonically based "Open up the Gates (Out of the Way of the People)," which complements his "Sermon on the Mountain" from the Berlin festival.

The dejection piece is the album'due south nigh impressive contribution, one of those rare performances in which inventiveness has been stimulated rather than complicated by the festival context. Beak Chase's electronically dominant fusion group had preceded the quartet on the bill, and Dave confessed to organizer George Wein that he feared he couldn't compete with its sound level. Advised to go out in that location and wail, Brubeck and Mulligan deliver their most energetic playing in the service of an extremely percussive, heavy-handed blues that despite its heavy shell never gives up on swinging. Brubeck's playing can even be said to rock, while Mulligan throws the pianist's playing into fifty-fifty higher dissimilarity by taking the better function of his ain solo in several variations of rhythmic cease-fourth dimension.

"Have Five," in its fame as a virtual identifier of the Brubeck quartet at its peak, is the greatest challenge to Mulligan's playing. He exerts his own personality virtually at once, slurring and swinging the bridge more than Paul Desmond did on the quartet's hit record, hut then backing off for the remainder of the melody, playing his own riffs in response to the time signature instead of constructing a conscientious melodic line as had his predecessor. That the term "predecessor" itself comes into play shows how the innovative aspects of the Mulligan-Brubeck collaboration were beginning to run their course, with the future remaining more solidly in Brubeck'due south hands equally the baritone sax histrion's creative genius begins looking elsewhere. This disposition is no more credible than on Brubeck's "Open the Gates," where Mulligan doesn't really solo at all, his role being reserved for the symphonic duty of joining in with the leader'south piano at its peak to create the number's orchestral height.

• Dave Brubeck-Paul Desmond-Gerry Mulligan: "Truth," "Unfinished Woman," "Have Five," and "Rotterdam Dejection," from We're All Together Over again for the First Time, Atlantic SD-1641, 28 October and 4 November 1972. Same personnel as May 1968 above, with the addition of alto saxophonist Paul Desmond.

The European reunion anthology with Paul Desmond is just that, an occasion for bringing together the key elements of Brubeck's 1950-1967 and 1968-1972 periods with an center toward his and Mulligan'southward futures. That those futures were heading in remarkably different directions is articulate from the album's two new numbers, "Truth" and "Unfinished Adult female." The quondam is a Brubeck oratorio, subtitled "Planets Are Spinning," and of all the quasi-classical pieces Brubeck had brought to his collaboration this one is by far the to the lowest degree jazz oriented. Mulligan and Desmond effort conventional enough solos, but Brubeck'south performance speaks of the modernist conservatory throughout. Its back-to-back position with Mulligan's new composition makes for an peculiarly strong contrast, for while Brubeck was heading in a classical direction, Mulligan's piece was 1 of the first numbers written for his Ark/Orchestra, a fusion group that would propel its leader through the 1970s and 1980s. The number, based on the repetition in two chords of a simple riff, outlines Mulligan'southward new goals, which include a fresh emphasis on rhythm and a greater interest in sustaining sounds (as opposed to amalgam elaborate melodies). His solo builds on these new influences, belongings single notes much longer and limiting his phrasing to the major chord, non shifting the direction of his line until the chord structure itself changes.

The rest of Nosotros're All Together consists of the original Brubeck quartet (without Mulligan) doing a reprise of one of their more famous numbers, "Koto Vocal," plus Gerry joining in for a fresh version of "Accept Five," in which a softer approach brings new attention to the tune. "Rotterdam Blues" is an improvised encore, as is "Sweet Georgia Dark-brown," the latter lasting simply one infinitesimal. The blues piece is proficient-humored barrelhouse playing, in which some of Mulligan's favorite licks from the Meeting sessions of a decade and a one-half before resurface. But with Brubeck'due south sixty-2d solo curtain call, the lights come down on this menstruation of collaboration—a workshop exercise of sorts that not but sustained the ii great musicians through a difficult transitional period but allowed them both to refine key aspects of their playing, reaffirming their jazz roots no matter what the nature of the group'south material."

piersonclady1985.blogspot.com

Source: https://jazzprofiles.blogspot.com/2020/10/compadres-with-b-r-u-b-e-c-k-jerome.html

Share this post