Album Review: The Wynton Kelly Trio and Wes Montgomery, Smokin' in Seattle: Live at the Penthouse (2017)

Smokin' in Seattle: Live at the Penthouse, by the Wynton Kelly Trio and Wes Montgomery, recorded in 1966, and released in 2017.

In 2017, Resonance Records released Smokin’ in Seattle: Live at the Penthouse which presents two radio broadcasts from April of 1966 by Wes Montgomery and the Wynton Kelly Trio. It’s an excellent recording and well worth the time of fans of Montgomery and Kelly. 

Wes Montgomery was one of the most exciting jazz guitarists of the 1960’s. Born in 1925, Montgomery toured with Lionel Hampton’s band from 1948 until 1950, but for the rest of the 1950’s he played only around his hometown of Indianapolis and recorded sporadically. The 1960 album The Incredible Jazz Guitar of Wes Montgomery was an excellent title, and that album helped raise his profile across the country. Montgomery recorded for the tiny Riverside Records label, which was also the home of Bill Evans, Thelonious Monk, and numerous other important jazz musicians of the era. 

After Riverside Records went bankrupt, Montgomery switched to Verve Records in 1964. The records he made for Verve featured him playing alongside strings and brass. The music was still jazz-flavored, but certainly closer to easy-listening jazz than the straight ahead hard bop he was playing on his Riverside records. Montgomery’s albums for Verve were very successful, and he started breaking through to mainstream pop record buyers. Montgomery made three very successful albums for Herb Alpert’s A&M records in 1967 and 1968, and these albums further raised Montgomery’s profile. Unfortunately, at the peak of his commercial success, Montgomery died of a heart attack on June 15, 1968, at age 45. 

There will always be a critical split on Montgomery, as jazz purists resented him for the pop success of his Verve and A&M recordings. However, it’s clear that in his live performances he was still playing straight ahead jazz. The big question is: where would Wes have gone and what would he have done had he lived longer? Of course, we don’t know. Perhaps Montgomery would have found a way to please both the jazz critics and his growing public. Personally, I will always have a soft spot for Montgomery’s 1967 album A Day in the Life, as it’s one of the first jazz albums of any kind that I listened to, and that really spoke to me. A Day in the Life, along with Dave Brubeck’s Time Out, was one of my gateways into jazz. The LP of A Day in the Life was in my Mom’s record collection, and the vivid gatefold sleeve grabbed my attention, with its dramatic photo of stubbed out cigarette butts. I also liked that the album was named after a great Beatles song. From there, I explored the rest of Montgomery’s discography, and I appreciate all of the different aspects of his career. For pure jazz, the Riverside records are the best, but I think his Verve and A&M records are great examples of 1960’s orchestral jazz-pop. The arrangements for the other instruments were always written after Montgomery had recorded the songs with a small rhythm section, and for this reason, the arrangements are sympathetic to what Wes was playing. Montgomery had such a gorgeous tone and sound, it’s no wonder that people wanted him to record pop songs. His playing still sounded great, even if he didn’t get to solo very much. 

Wynton Kelly already had a long and successful career by the time he recorded these concerts with Montgomery in 1966. Kelly had backed Dinah Washington, and had played with Miles Davis from 1959 to 1963. In Davis’ band, Kelly led one of the most swinging rhythm sections in jazz history, as he combined with bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Jimmy Cobb. Although Kelly was a full member of Davis’ band by the time the group recorded Kind of Blue, he abdicated the piano chair to Bill Evans for the whole album, except for “Freddie Freeloader.” Kelly played on Davis’ next small group album, 1961’s Someday My Prince Will Come, which I reviewed here, and also the excellent 1961 live albums At the Blackhawk, which I reviewed here, and Miles Davis at Carnegie Hall, which I reviewed here. Kelly was a superb accompanist, and he had a sound that was firmly rooted in the blues. However, Kelly was versatile enough to shine on lyrical ballads as well. Kelly was in some ways the quintessential sideman, always complimenting the other players well. As drummer Philly Joe Jones said, Kelly “put down flowers behind a soloist.” 

Kelly and Montgomery previously played together on the superlative 1965 live album Smokin’ at the Half Note and also on the 1962 live album Full House. Their playing styles complimented each other very well, as they were both very lyrical players. One of the things that made Montgomery’s guitar sound so unique was the fact that he didn’t use a pick. Instead, he used the soft part of his thumb, giving his guitar a mellow, softer sound.

On Smokin’ in Seattle, Kelly and Montgomery are backed by Cobb on drums, and Ron McClure on bass. McClure faced the unenviable task of replacing Paul Chambers in the summer of 1965. Taking over for one of the dozen or so most significant bassists in the history of jazz must have been difficult, but McClure equips himself well on this recording.

Smokin’ in Seattle starts out with just the trio of Kelly, McClure, and Cobb, and they perform a nicely swinging version of “There is No Greater Love.” The song is an excellent example of Kelly’s soloing style—he was always smooth, swinging, and easy to listen to. When I was writing about Miles Davis’s 1961 recordings featuring tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley, it became a challenge for me to find new and different ways to say, “Wynton Kelly sounds great,” and “Wynton Kelly really swings like hell on this song.” “There is No Greater Love” also gives the listener a great example of Jimmy Cobb’s drumming style, which always propels the music along without overshadowing the other players. The next song is the dramatic ballad “Not a Tear,” recorded by Kelly recorded on his 1964 album It’s All Right, which features a great, cheesy pop art album cover. Kelly shifts the dynamics as the song shifts tempos and turns into a swinger. 

Montgomery joins the group on his sprightly original tune “Jingles” and the ballad “What’s New?” Both tunes featured in his live repertoire at the time, as “Jingles” is also heard on his 1965 Paris concert, and “What’s New?” appears on Smokin’ at the Half Note. Listen for Wes’ quote from the “Habanera” from the opera Carmen during “Jingles.” On “What’s New?” Montgomery’s guitar is bathed in reverb, giving it a late-night feeling. The first radio broadcast ends with a brief tune called “Blues in F,” which unfortunately fades out after just two and a half minutes. You can hear how at home both Kelly and Montgomery are with the blues structure. There’s a brassy, bold exuberance to their playing on this brief song. 

The second broadcast opens with the trio playing “Sir John,” written by the trumpet player Blue Mitchell. “Sir John” is another lightly swinging groover, and it finds Kelly in his wheelhouse, sounding loose and easy as he effortlessly throws off tasty melodic runs for the entire eight minutes plus of the song. McClure also gets a nice bass solo in the second half of the song. “If You Could See Me Now” is a nice ballad that Kelly gives a sparkling introduction to. 

Montgomery joins the group again on “West Coast Blues,” another one of his originals, from the Incredible Jazz Guitar album. It’s a nice version, but fairly short at four minutes. More satisfying is the lovely version of Antonio Carlos Jobim’s “O Morro Nao Tem Vez,” known in English as “Once I Loved.” It’s great fun to hear Wes stretch out on this bossa nova, playing his signature octaves. And then the broadcast comes to a close with a brief version of Sonny Rollins’ “Oleo,” which fades out after just two minutes, but shows the rhythmic dexterity of all the players. 

The packaging of Smokin’ in Seattle is excellent, and the booklet includes interviews with Ron McClure and Jimmy Cobb, along with other experts on the music of Wes Montgomery and Wynton Kelly. Both McClure and Cobb make the point that both Montgomery and Kelly were very nice guys, and how their music reflects their personalities. I hadn’t thought about that point before, but it’s true—there’s an effervescent exuberance about both their playing that shines through brightly on this recording. Both Wes Montgomery and Wynton Kelly died far too young—Montgomery was 45 when he died in 1968, and Kelly was just 39 when he died in 1971. So any new music by either Wynton Kelly or Wes Montgomery is to be welcomed, and Smokin’ in Seattle is a terrific find for fans of these talented jazz musicians.  

Album Review: Bill Evans Another Time: The Hilversum Concert, with Eddie Gomez and Jack DeJohnette (2017)

Front cover of Another Time: The Hilversum Concert, with Bill Evans, Eddie Gomez, and Jack DeJohnette. Recorded in 1968, released in 2017.

Back cover of Another Time. From left to right, Eddie Gomez, bass, Jack DeJohnette, drums, and Bill Evans, piano.

Jazz pianist Bill Evans’ career has been thoroughly chronicled, both through the many recordings he made during his lifetime, and also the numerous recordings that have surfaced since his death in 1980. And yet, like so many other great musicians, more music by Bill Evans just keeps surfacing. 2017’s Another Time: The Hilversum Concert features Evans with bassist Eddie Gomez and drummer Jack DeJohnette. For many years, it was thought that this particular trio had only made one recording together, the live concert Bill Evans at the Montreux Jazz Festival, recorded on June 15, 1968. However, in 2016 another recording featuring the trio was released, Some Other Time: The Lost Session from the Black Forest, recorded on June 20, 1968. Another Time was recorded just two days after the session for Some Other Time. Both albums were released on the Resonance label, which has done a superb job of packaging these recordings, including informative liner notes, interviews with both Gomez and DeJohnette, and rare photos. 

Eddie Gomez worked with Evans for 11 years, from 1966 until 1977, and made many recordings with him. DeJohnette, on the other hand, was with Evans for just six months—he left the group later in 1968 to join Miles Davis, and he was featured on Davis’ landmark fusion albums Bitches Brew and Jack Johnson. 

One of the things that made Evans’ trios so interesting was the way that he allowed the bass player to act as a second soloist with him. This was the case from his best-known trio, with Scott LaFaro on bass and Paul Motian on drums, until the end of Evans’ life.  While many piano trios of the time were meant to focus specifically on the piano player, Evans sought a more equal musical partnership. Although Evans worked in many different groups throughout his career, the majority of his work was in the piano trio format. 

Although there is some overlap in song selection between the three albums featuring Evans, Gomez, and DeJohnette, all told, the trio takes on 31 different songs across the albums. Even though there is some repetition, with players of this quality it doesn’t really matter, since they’re able to make the songs sound fresh each time. 

The concert on Another Time was recorded by the Netherlands Radio Union, and the sound quality is excellent. The music is sprightly and bright. Although some of the songs like “Emily” and “Nardis” will be very familiar to Evans fans, they are done so well that it’s hard to quibble with having another version of them. 

Bill Evans had a superb sound at the piano. His playing was always melodic, and deceptively easy-sounding, but never veering into easy-listening or clichéd cocktail jazz, and his sound was never heavy or jarring. In the liner notes, there’s a great quote from Evans explaining his style of playing, from a 1978 interview with Bert Vuijsje: “I try to play good things that are beautiful to me and then I think other people will find them beautiful too.”

The critical rap on Evans early in his career was that he “couldn’t swing.” This was a frequent criticism of white jazz players during the 1950’s and 1960’s, probably due to the fact that so many white players like Dave Brubeck, Paul Desmond, Gerry Mulligan, Stan Getz, Chet Baker, and Evans himself, were often lumped into the “West Coast Jazz” scene, which was often seen as the opposite of the African American players in New York City, who came out of the bebop school and later branched off into hard bop, soul jazz, modal jazz, and a dozen other things. But all of those white players learned from bebop—they were simply moving in another direction, and they all could swing when they needed to, Evans included. 

Eddie Gomez is an inventive accompanist and soloist, and his playing compliments Evans’ style very well. Gomez was only 22 years old when he joined Evans, and he was 23 when Another Time was recorded, but he plays with an assurance belying his young age. Jack DeJohnette was 25 at the time of this recording, but he was already a marvelously swinging drummer. DeJohnette could swing as hard as needed, but it never feels like he’s pushing the music. He never overpowers the other players, and he’s quite adept at brush work. 

The concert starts with the expressive exuberance of “You’re Gonna Hear From Me,” a title that is especially apt for a concert opener, since that’s exactly what the audience gets to do for the next 48 minutes—hear from Bill Evans. “Very Early” starts out softly, delicately, with Evans stating the melody before DeJohnette comes in on brushes. Then it gains steam and a minute in there’s a joyful release as Evans starts his swinging solo. “Very Early” also features Eddie Gomez’s first solo of the concert. Gomez never loses the bright, easily swinging feeling of the song. 

The Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley show tune “Who Can I Turn To?” is next. The song was a hit for Tony Bennett, and Evans and Bennett recorded the song during sessions for their second album Together Again, but the song wasn’t released until years later when the album was put on CD. When sung, the song is always a big ballad, but here it quickly turns swinging after Gomez and DeJohnette enter. Gomez turns in another nice solo, and Evans lays out for a while as Gomez solos, with just DeJohnette keeping time behind him. 

“Alfie,” by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, is another show tune—almost. It was inspired by the 1966 film of the same name that made Michael Caine a household name in the United States, but the song wasn’t actually included in the UK version of the film. (It was added to the end credits of the US version of the film.) It was a hit for Cilla Black, Dionne Warwick, and Cher, and recorded by many other singers, including Jack Jones, Andy Williams, and Tony Bennett. “Alfie” is the closest the concert comes to having a ballad, and it’s filled with Evans’ romantic, expressive playing. 

“Embraceable You” is Gomez’s solo feature, just as it was a week earlier at the Montreux concert. In the liner notes Gomez says, “Quite honestly, I never felt comfortable with ‘Embraceable You’…I didn’t feel like I needed a feature.” From listening to the song, Gomez certainly doesn’t sound uncomfortable with the song. 

Next we have “Emily,” written by Johnny Mandel and Johnny Mercer for the 1964 film The Americanization of Emily. The song was recorded by Frank Sinatra, Jack Jones, Andy Williams, and, you guessed it, Tony Bennett. First recorded by Evans in 1967 for his second album of overdubbed solo piano, Further Conversations with Myself, the song became a staple of his concerts. The three note phrase that begins Evans’ version, “Em-i-ly,” repeats throughout his version, just as it does in non-jazz versions of the song. The song always seemed to bring out Evans’ lyrical romanticism, and this lovely version of “Emily” is one of the highlights of the album for me. 

“Nardis” was another staple of Evans’ live performances. Written by Miles Davis for Cannonball Adderley, and never recorded by Davis, it was a song that Evans returned to repeatedly with his various trios over the years. The song was a chance for the trio to stretch out, and at eight and a half minutes it’s the longest song of the concert. “Nardis” features DeJohnette’s only solo of the concert, a rumbling exploration that still manages to hold the listener’s interest throughout. 

“Turn Out the Stars” was another song that Evans often performed live. An Evans original, it came out of a solo improvisation during his 1966 concert Bill Evans at Town Hall. Like much of the rest of this concert, it’s lightly swinging, and you can hear on this song how in sync Evans and Gomez were.

Written by Evans for his first album, “Five” was a song closely associated with him, although I haven’t heard many live recordings of it. A brief concert closer, listen closely for Evans’ quotes from Miles Davis’ “The Theme” and Sonny Rollins’ “Oleo.” 

If you’re a fan of Bill Evans, you should pick up Another Time—it’s full of excellent music, and it gives us another look at a short-lived trio of his.