Fried Bananas [Dexter Gordon]
Soul Station [Hank Mobley]
On A Misty Night [John Coltrane]
Infant Eyes [Wayne Shorter]
Rocket Love [Stanley Turrentine]
Inner Urge [Joe Henderson]
The Everywhere Calypso [Sonny Rollins]
The Eternal Triangle [Sonny Stitt]
Our Miss Brooks [Harold Vick]
Jorge Nila (tenor sax), Dave Stryker (guitar), Mitch Towne (organ),
Dana Murray (drums).
Rec. Omaha, Nebraska. 2018 (?)
Of the four musicians on this album, it is probably fair to say that
guitarist Dave Stryker is the only one with very much in the way of an
international reputation. All four started out in Omaha, Nebraska. Nila
went to the same high school as drummer Dana Murray (though not at the same
time); Nila and Stryker have been friends since the 1970s, both having
grown up in Omaha; the tenor player and organist Mitch Towner have worked
together for a number of years.
Nila spent some years (from 1978 to 1990) away from Omaha, in New York,
where he studied with George Coleman (in an album devoted to major tenor
players it is slightly surprising that Nila doesn’t feature his most famous
teacher). During his years in New York Nila worked with organist Jack
McDuff, amongst others. Nila sees all the tenorists to whom he pays tribute
here as descendants, as it were, of Lester Young. That seems an
oversimplified view of the instrument’s post-swing history – even if one
grants that they all must have listened to, and learned something from,
that great master of jazz tenor. But it isn’t worth arguing about Jorge
Nila’s vision of jazz history; to do so would only get in the way of
listening to and discussing the music itself.
Nila doesn’t emerge from this CD (which is, I believe, his second) as a
particularly individual voice on his instrument, but he is clearly a
thoroughly competent musician, with a pretty big sound on the instrument,
well-suited to the format of the tenor and organ quartet (his experience
with McDuff will have stood him in good stead in this regard).
Each of the 9 ‘tenor masters’ (I have identified them in square brackets in
the track list above) is remembered by a song which they either composed
(e.g. in the cases of Gordon, Mobley, Shorter, Rollins and Vick) or by one
by which they are associated – either by the jazz audience at large or, in
some cases, by Nila himself (e.g.Turrentine and Coltrane).
One or two of the choices reveal things about Nila’s tastes. Relatively few
would, I suspect, make Tadd Dameron’s ballad ‘On A Misty Night’ their first
choice for a tune ‘representative’ of John Coltrane. Coltrane recorded it
(in 1956) as part of a quartet session led by Dameron, and issued as Mating Call in the following year. It is a beautiful ballad and
Coltrane’s is a memorable reading of it (Nila’s is pretty good too), but it
was recorded before Coltrane had created his mature style – the style which
has been (and is) imitated by many later tenor players ever since. Nila is
presumably happier with Coltrane’s earlier manner. Stanley Turrentine is
represented by the Stevie Wonder tune ‘Rocket Love’ which he recorded on
his 1987 album Wonderland: The Music of Stevie Wonder which, in
its relative blandness, is some way from being one of Turrentine’s best
albums. For most jazz listeners the best representation of Turrentine’s
fluent, big-toned playing is to be found in the tracks on albums such as Up at Mintons or Rough ‘N’ Tumble (both on Blue Note).
Elsewhere the choices are easier to understand. ‘Fried Bananas’ written
late in Gordon’s years in Europe is a good example of the composer’s often
hard-driven synthesis of swing and bop (the tune is based on the chords of
‘It Could Happen To You’), even if Nila’s version lacks the intensity of
Gordon’s best performances of the tune. Wayne Shorter’s ‘Infant Eyes’ is a
good choice, suiting Nila’s clear love of ballads and, originally recorded
in 1964 on Speak No Evil (Blue Note), it is less complex and
elusive than some of Shorter’s later work. ‘Soul Station’ is a good way to
‘represent’ Hank Mobley – I put the word represent in inverted commas since
Nila doesn’t seek to ‘represent’ (in the sense of imitating) these tenor
masters. Rather, he takes a tune for the performance of which each of them
is, to varying degrees, famous and offers his own account of it. Nila’s
reading of ‘Soul Station’ is intelligent and enjoyable, but it lacks the
rhythmic sophistication that makes Mobley’s own performance of the tune
memorable.
The more I compare Nila with his ‘originals’ the more I wonder whether he
hasn’t done himself a disservice in putting together an album of this sort,
though I am sure it must have been great fun to make. Nila isn’t a tenor
player of the stature of, say, Gordon, Mobley, Shorter, Henderson or
Rollins – but then very few are!
I feel sure that I would enjoy the experience if I had the chance to hear
this quartet playing in a club or on a concert stage. I have, indeed,
enjoyed listening to this album (despite the reservations I have expressed)
and I am sure I shall play it again from time to time; Stryker and Towne,
like Nila, impress and they are well supported by Murray. But it is the
sort of album I can play in the background while I do some typing or even
some undemanding reading. I couldn’t do that with, say, Henderson’s ‘Inner
Urge’ or Mobley’s ‘Soul Station – or the albums on which they occur.They would insist on my full attention, in a way that Tenor Time doesn’t quite do, or at least didn’t do after my first
couple of listens.
I would like to hear this quartet playing different repertoire – music
which doesn’t immediately and explicitly invite comparison with greater
musicians. I don’t mean this review to sound negative – but I suspect that Tenor Time is less than the very best that these four good
musicians are capable of creating.
Glyn Pursglove