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Falling GraceThese are special "on-liner" notes - there is an additional section here that is not found in the actual CD booklet. While a jazz pianist may work in many different settings, the trio of piano/bass/drums is perhaps the most familiar to the audience as well as to the pianist. And although many jazz musicians enjoy the challenge of their own compositions, we are just as often more comfortable playing the standards. The image of a piano trio playing standards is one of the first things that comes to mind when many people think of "jazz", and when people come to see me play in clubs, chances are good that this is what they will hear. Yet of all the twenty-some-odd performances on my three previous recordings, only two of the tracks were by my trio, and both of those were of original compositions. In fact, there are no bona fide jazz standards on any of those disks. Much of the music I have recorded is considerably more adventurous than what I typically play at my gigs, except for the occasional concert appearance. I am not saying this is necessarily a bad thing, and I could go into reasons why musicians might choose to record material that differs from their ordinary repertoire, but that is not my purpose in writing these notes. Instead, let me just say that none of this applies to the CD you are now holding, Falling Grace. It is more representative of a typical trio gig than is any of my other recordings. Now, of course, every club has its own atmosphere, and at some we might place more emphasis on the uptempo pieces, at others we might play more ballads, and at others we might draw more from our original material. But on the whole, this CD sounds a lot like what you would usually hear if you caught us live. The recording was not actually made in a club, but rather in the band room of a local high school (during summer break), because it was easier for us technically to record that way. In many ways, though, I would say it feels like a live recording. I know that people who know of me primarily from my earlier recordings will wonder if this CD indicates a change in direction for me, but that is not so. I have always enjoyed playing both standards and my more adventurous original material, and this continues to be true. I simply decided it was time my discography reflected this balance. I suppose my particular selection of "standards" is a bit quirky; it may not be in my nature to conform too much to expectations. But I have been playing this type of material with bassist Erik Turkman and drummer Thomas Van Schoick for almost ten years, and we are pleased to have produced a recording that sounds like what we hear most of the time we work together. Online exclusiveThere are stories behind the compositions here that I did not have room for in the CD booklet. Lucky Southern and Falling Grace are both relatively obscure tunes that I learned from a fakebook (the infamous Real Book) before I ever heard a recording of them. In fact, I am not sure I have ever heard another recording of Lucky Southern, although I am a big fan of its composer, Keith Jarrett, and in fact transcribed and recorded another one of his compositions - Everything That Lives Laments - on my CD Second Course. Falling Grace, by Steve Swallow, is quite possibly the best tune in the whole Real Book, although hardly anyone knows it. Stella By Starlight, by Victor Young, is about as often-covered a tune as they come, and for many listeners it will probably the only track on this CD that is actually familiar. I normally avoid recording such well-known pieces, but for years this has been my favorite standard, due to its unique form and chord progression. The interplay during the last chorus of the piano solo on this recording is, in opinion, the best thing on the whole CD (your mileage may vary). One of the more interesting stories is that of the Japanese Folk Song. I learned this tune - with that descriptive title - from a Thelonious Monk album entitled Straight, No Chaser. The album gives no real indication as to who wrote it and whether it really is a Japanese folk song or not, One day, I was playing this song with my trio at a club in Denver when a group of Japanese women came up to us and excitedly started taking our pictures of us. That pretty much answered that question. From them, I learned the song was about a moon over an old castle. Several years later, I became friends with a woman from Japan, and I played her my recording of the song. She recognized it instantly, and provided me with the title, Kojo No Tsuki (there should be markings over some of the letters, but I do not know how to produce them), as well as her best recollection of the lyrics. Since then, I have also met someone who was able to provide with me sheet music. There are two original compositions on this disc - my own Almanac Blues, and The Orderly Appearance Of Things, by bassist Erik Turkman. My tune was composed as an intructional example of a typical bebop blues tune, for my upcoming educational CD-ROM A Jazz Improvisation Almanac (hence the title). Erik named his tune after a line in a story he read, about a couple who had fallen out of love with each other but continued to stay together and maintain "the orderly appearance of things". First Song and Sister Cheryl are two relatively recent tunes that usually make a big impression on people who hear them, particularly musicians. Charlie Haden (composer of First Song) has recorded his tune too many times for me to keep track of, and apparently he gives out lead sheets for it at clinics, so he obviously intends for it to become a standard. Sister Cheryl was also written (by the late Tony Williams) with the goal of producing a standard, according to a friend who spoke to Herbie Hancock about it. Although I know of only two recordings of the tune, I have met musicians all across the country who have learned it. Interestingly, the original recordings (as well as my cover) are in the relatively difficult key of B. Most musicians I know who have learned the song transposed it in C or Bb. Perhaps the best story belongs to You Look Good To Me. It sounds like a show tune, but aside from a few Oscar Peterson recordings of it (which is how I learned the song) I could find no other musicians who had covered it, and could find no information about the composers listed, Wells and Lefco. One thing I found odd was that the publisher for the song was Ray Brown's company (Ray was the bassist for Oscar for many years). Curious, I asked around on the net, and eventually found out that Seymour "Sy" Lefco is a dentist and jazz fan who lives in Milwaukee. I called him up and spoke with him at some length, although I have forgotten some of the crucial details of his story. The gist of it, however, is that Sy is a friend of Oscar's and Ray's (Ray may have been one of Sy's patients) who occasionally writes lyrics. One day Ray came to Sy with a tune written by another friend of Ray's, Clement Wells. Ray asked Sy if he would like to write some lyrics for it. The tune made little impression on Sy, but he dutifully wrote some lyrics for it. Ray then presented the completed song to Oscar, who altered it considerably and began playing it and recording it - sans lyrics, of course, since Oscar ceased singing professionally long ago. Nevertheless, because his name is officially listed as co-composer, Sy Lefco receives healthy royalty checks from Oscar's recordings, despite the fact that his lyrics have, as far as I know, never been recorded. |
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