The Newest Sound Around

发行时间:1961-11-15
发行公司:索尼音乐
简介:  "Third stream" may have been the bandied term, but this unjustly ignored 1962 duet set, the debut for pianist Blake and singeLee, who worked up their act while studying at Bard College, playsblissfully free of the lumbering lugubriousness and Big Mac-thick philosophizing that mar somuch of that music. The eeriness, the mystery, and the sweetness lie always in the deceptivesimplicity, never more so than on the opener, "Laura," sketched byJohnny Merceras a hazy image of loveliness, always out of reach and perhaps not even real, and she flickers in andout of existence with the strike and fade of Blake's figures, the attack and decay ofLee's intonation, nowhusky, now fruity, but as exacting asMiles Davis' muted trumpet. "Church on Russell Street" isBlake's alone, a gospel show for solo piano late at night, or early in the morning, when everyone butthe pianist and maybe the Lord has gone home. "Where Flamingos Fly," from whichVan Morrisonpeeled a few leaves years later, findsLeea mournful anti-siren, losing her lover and a fewmembers of the animal kingdom to an island that may be Aruba, Iceland, or even Alcatraz; Blake tests single notes like water drops, rumbles chords for incoming tide, stabs boldly at the not quite intune top octave on his keyboard. "Season in the Sun" (nowhere nearTerry Jacks) injects levity withbassistGeorge Duviviersitting in (as he does on "Evil Blues," the second dash of comic relief) andLeedryly, slyly insinuating the brevity of her bikini. "If there's going to be an enduring 'new wave' in jazz styling...this voice, this piano may well be the beginning," reads an uncredited blurb on the cover. The record started no revolution, probably because no other two performers had such chemistry or such a distinctive reaction. As jazz styling, though, it endures unsurprisingly. You hear the set in less than one hour (four CD-only bonus tracks included). You spend decades wandering inside the sound, as you might inside a sonic Stonehenge, savoring each new vantage point discovered, and the impossibility of discovering them all.
  "Third stream" may have been the bandied term, but this unjustly ignored 1962 duet set, the debut for pianist Blake and singeLee, who worked up their act while studying at Bard College, playsblissfully free of the lumbering lugubriousness and Big Mac-thick philosophizing that mar somuch of that music. The eeriness, the mystery, and the sweetness lie always in the deceptivesimplicity, never more so than on the opener, "Laura," sketched byJohnny Merceras a hazy image of loveliness, always out of reach and perhaps not even real, and she flickers in andout of existence with the strike and fade of Blake's figures, the attack and decay ofLee's intonation, nowhusky, now fruity, but as exacting asMiles Davis' muted trumpet. "Church on Russell Street" isBlake's alone, a gospel show for solo piano late at night, or early in the morning, when everyone butthe pianist and maybe the Lord has gone home. "Where Flamingos Fly," from whichVan Morrisonpeeled a few leaves years later, findsLeea mournful anti-siren, losing her lover and a fewmembers of the animal kingdom to an island that may be Aruba, Iceland, or even Alcatraz; Blake tests single notes like water drops, rumbles chords for incoming tide, stabs boldly at the not quite intune top octave on his keyboard. "Season in the Sun" (nowhere nearTerry Jacks) injects levity withbassistGeorge Duviviersitting in (as he does on "Evil Blues," the second dash of comic relief) andLeedryly, slyly insinuating the brevity of her bikini. "If there's going to be an enduring 'new wave' in jazz styling...this voice, this piano may well be the beginning," reads an uncredited blurb on the cover. The record started no revolution, probably because no other two performers had such chemistry or such a distinctive reaction. As jazz styling, though, it endures unsurprisingly. You hear the set in less than one hour (four CD-only bonus tracks included). You spend decades wandering inside the sound, as you might inside a sonic Stonehenge, savoring each new vantage point discovered, and the impossibility of discovering them all.