Stanley TurrentineA friend did a similar thing and although I wanted to do the same, I realized there was a problem: not very many people would be familiar with my music. Thus listing off the top x albums as my favorite would be silly. So I explained each. Sometimes to a general audience, and sometimes to a more familiar audience.
These are listed in no particular order (not entirely true - I listed off some as they came to mind, but generally went through my music alphabetically so as to not miss anything). There are many great albums out there that I love that I haven't included.
Oh, and I guess if I tagged you you're all supposed to do the same, or something.
A Tribute to Jack Johnson (Miles Davis): Miles Davis once claimed that he could create "the greatest rock band you ever heard." Miles Davis was a lot of [ridiculous] things, but he was never frivolous [as can be easily seen by the style he matured into]. Obviously, questions like this will never be settled, but if he did do it, it was this album, and not undeserving either. This will make casual jazz listeners question what they think of both jazz and rock as genres - separate, and fused.
Kind of Blue (Miles Davis): I could probably include nearly every Miles album I have, but I guess that defeats the purpose. I can't say how many times I've listened to this - in a row. Probably the most precise jazz album I've ever heard, strange because it is both the most revolutionary [arguably] and one of the most open as well. Yet every note is where it should be.
Just Feelin' (McCoy Tyner): McCoy Tyner in a comfortable setting in a trio. Certainly not his most technical work, but for some reason, the song Manha De Carnaval moved me almost immediately like nothing I've heard before - enough to make the list. I'm not entirely sure why, but this is one I won't be forgetting any time soon.
Cats (Andrew Lloyd Webber): To be fair, I deserve at least one guilty pleasure. And if so, then this is it. The concept of the show is fantastic, but it's the music that, every time I hear it, I concoct ridiculous plans to put it on here at school. It's fun, serious, blah blah, all the things a musical should have, it has. But just right, not too much either.
Carnegie Hall 1938 (Benny Goodman): Perhaps I'm just trying to be elitist, but this concert was really good. I mean, really. Regardless of the hurdles and challenges they faced to pull it off, it's a swinging show.
Keep the Customer Satisfied (Buddy Rich): This is what swing is all about. Buddy Rich drives the band and the audience through the wall. Nothing else by him has come close.
Paris Jazz Concert (Cannonball Adderley): Cannonball, his brother, and Joe Zawinul have all never sounded better. It's energetic, and let Cannonball open up. Plus I'm particularly weak for Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.
The Enchantment (Chick Corea & Béla Fleck): Yes, I saw this live, but the melodious nature of the compositions is so fresh and relaxing. It's not in your face, but then again, that's hard without a drummer or a bass. In fact, much of anything is hard without a drummer or a bass, but they pull this one off. Perhaps a bit too well - the studio nature and obvious rehearsal time would be the only drawbacks, but if you listen to the notes played, the rest won't matter.
Count Basie at Newport: The energy is not only unmistakable, but massively transforming. Not that Basie's band lacks anything in studio recordings per-se, their precision performance is plenty for me, but they don't even lose any of that in front of a wild audience.
The Complete Atomic Basie: Perhaps to contrast Basie at Newport, this time they play the songs as they're meant to be. Not that Newport was incorrect, but the Atomic Basie is almost like a library - a guide, no the guide, on how to play the Basie standards. A title like that isn't given lightly.
The Far East Suite (Duke Ellington): There are obviously a lot of choices for Duke, but I decided to go with something outside the standard repertoire. While maintaining the same band as always, Duke manages to still send us to places we've never been. There are, perhaps, better choices for his writing, but nothing better for his arranging. And an entire album of it makes it a truly impressive work.
Red Clay (Freddie Hubbard): I have some other earlier Freddie Hubbard that establishes him as a solid player, but Red Clay puts him above the rest. Not only does Freddie play fabulously, the band is no sideshow. Joe Henderson does an impressive job, but Stanley Turrentine on the live take of the title track is phenomenal. Not to mention Herbie Hancock plays the set so comfortably.
Song For My Father (Horace Silver): Joe Henderson just keeps showing up, and he almost steals the show here and would have, had it been with anyone other than Horace Silver.
Giant Steps (John Coltrane): Yes giant steps. For anyone who has played the title track, they know that it's hard. But almost more importantly than that, the chords are brilliant. Moving through flatted fifth progressions creates a tonality that is simply unmistakable, as are all the tracks. Moreover, his solos promptly polarized saxophones and general jazz followers alike. The so-called "vertical" style of soloing is, new. But jazz is about more than new, it still has to sound good and he does that first. The reason for his vertical solos is, I feel, connected back to the chords themselves. Moving linearly or "horizontally" across them, particularly at the speed he played it at would be a muddled mess no matter who's horn it comes out of.
A Love Supreme (John Coltrane): This was the first album I ever purchased so it obviously hold a special place in my collection. I had a project for English class and chose a poet to write about because in the one sentence description about him, it said he wrote about jazz, and I had figured out that much about myself thus far, so I decided to choose him. One of the poems was an ode to Coltrane focusing on this album. I figured I ought to give it a listen. And listen I did. And listen I do. This is one of those albums that when I hear alternate takes put together in a hodgepodge format elsewhere, or even the final takes, I skip them. I can't listen them without listening to the whole thing. The progression from section to section is essential in this massive single work. While there are perhaps other albums I might like to place here (notably Blue Train), I feel that these two present Coltrane expertly well.
Live at the Monterey Jazz Festival (John Handy): I know nothing about the artist or the even [I'm not even sure where the album turned up from] and two long tracks of extended open soloing wouldn't have been my thing in most cases. But John Handy pulls it off. Rather, he blows it away in every sense. It includes exceptional work by the whole band (I recall the bass in particular) but his solos are what I listen to when I feel I need more passion - more individualism, infused in my own work.
The Koln Concert (Keith Jarrett): It may be cliche, and I could probably select another Keith Jarrett album as well (I won't) but I have honestly never seen, heard, or experienced in any way anything like this. Had someone told me before hand the names of the songs and the composers, this concert would have still made the list. My mind is blown every time I hear it.
Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane: Older and generally less popular than the "recently discovered" work between the two, I also feel better. While recorded in the studio as opposed to live (and at Carnegie Hall at that), as far as I can tell, Coltrane wouldn't really know the difference. Miles once said that a woman could start dancing in front of him while soloing and the rest of the band would stop, but Trane would keep on playing none the wiser. On Monk, I feel the work is incredibly inventive and declarative - especially considering how early it was.
Notable Exceptions:
Charlie Parker - Obviously one of the greatest alto players ever, his short life hindered his potential tremendously. I have yet to find an album of him that, I feel, really showcases his work. I certainly have some nice songs, but nothing cohesive yet.
Oscar Peterson - I love Oscar Peterson, I just haven't found THE Oscar Peterson album. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.
These are listed in no particular order (not entirely true - I listed off some as they came to mind, but generally went through my music alphabetically so as to not miss anything). There are many great albums out there that I love that I haven't included.
Oh, and I guess if I tagged you you're all supposed to do the same, or something.
A Tribute to Jack Johnson (Miles Davis): Miles Davis once claimed that he could create "the greatest rock band you ever heard." Miles Davis was a lot of [ridiculous] things, but he was never frivolous [as can be easily seen by the style he matured into]. Obviously, questions like this will never be settled, but if he did do it, it was this album, and not undeserving either. This will make casual jazz listeners question what they think of both jazz and rock as genres - separate, and fused.
Kind of Blue (Miles Davis): I could probably include nearly every Miles album I have, but I guess that defeats the purpose. I can't say how many times I've listened to this - in a row. Probably the most precise jazz album I've ever heard, strange because it is both the most revolutionary [arguably] and one of the most open as well. Yet every note is where it should be.
Just Feelin' (McCoy Tyner): McCoy Tyner in a comfortable setting in a trio. Certainly not his most technical work, but for some reason, the song Manha De Carnaval moved me almost immediately like nothing I've heard before - enough to make the list. I'm not entirely sure why, but this is one I won't be forgetting any time soon.
Cats (Andrew Lloyd Webber): To be fair, I deserve at least one guilty pleasure. And if so, then this is it. The concept of the show is fantastic, but it's the music that, every time I hear it, I concoct ridiculous plans to put it on here at school. It's fun, serious, blah blah, all the things a musical should have, it has. But just right, not too much either.
Carnegie Hall 1938 (Benny Goodman): Perhaps I'm just trying to be elitist, but this concert was really good. I mean, really. Regardless of the hurdles and challenges they faced to pull it off, it's a swinging show.
Keep the Customer Satisfied (Buddy Rich): This is what swing is all about. Buddy Rich drives the band and the audience through the wall. Nothing else by him has come close.
Paris Jazz Concert (Cannonball Adderley): Cannonball, his brother, and Joe Zawinul have all never sounded better. It's energetic, and let Cannonball open up. Plus I'm particularly weak for Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.
The Enchantment (Chick Corea & Béla Fleck): Yes, I saw this live, but the melodious nature of the compositions is so fresh and relaxing. It's not in your face, but then again, that's hard without a drummer or a bass. In fact, much of anything is hard without a drummer or a bass, but they pull this one off. Perhaps a bit too well - the studio nature and obvious rehearsal time would be the only drawbacks, but if you listen to the notes played, the rest won't matter.
Count Basie at Newport: The energy is not only unmistakable, but massively transforming. Not that Basie's band lacks anything in studio recordings per-se, their precision performance is plenty for me, but they don't even lose any of that in front of a wild audience.
The Complete Atomic Basie: Perhaps to contrast Basie at Newport, this time they play the songs as they're meant to be. Not that Newport was incorrect, but the Atomic Basie is almost like a library - a guide, no the guide, on how to play the Basie standards. A title like that isn't given lightly.
The Far East Suite (Duke Ellington): There are obviously a lot of choices for Duke, but I decided to go with something outside the standard repertoire. While maintaining the same band as always, Duke manages to still send us to places we've never been. There are, perhaps, better choices for his writing, but nothing better for his arranging. And an entire album of it makes it a truly impressive work.
Red Clay (Freddie Hubbard): I have some other earlier Freddie Hubbard that establishes him as a solid player, but Red Clay puts him above the rest. Not only does Freddie play fabulously, the band is no sideshow. Joe Henderson does an impressive job, but Stanley Turrentine on the live take of the title track is phenomenal. Not to mention Herbie Hancock plays the set so comfortably.
Song For My Father (Horace Silver): Joe Henderson just keeps showing up, and he almost steals the show here and would have, had it been with anyone other than Horace Silver.
Giant Steps (John Coltrane): Yes giant steps. For anyone who has played the title track, they know that it's hard. But almost more importantly than that, the chords are brilliant. Moving through flatted fifth progressions creates a tonality that is simply unmistakable, as are all the tracks. Moreover, his solos promptly polarized saxophones and general jazz followers alike. The so-called "vertical" style of soloing is, new. But jazz is about more than new, it still has to sound good and he does that first. The reason for his vertical solos is, I feel, connected back to the chords themselves. Moving linearly or "horizontally" across them, particularly at the speed he played it at would be a muddled mess no matter who's horn it comes out of.
A Love Supreme (John Coltrane): This was the first album I ever purchased so it obviously hold a special place in my collection. I had a project for English class and chose a poet to write about because in the one sentence description about him, it said he wrote about jazz, and I had figured out that much about myself thus far, so I decided to choose him. One of the poems was an ode to Coltrane focusing on this album. I figured I ought to give it a listen. And listen I did. And listen I do. This is one of those albums that when I hear alternate takes put together in a hodgepodge format elsewhere, or even the final takes, I skip them. I can't listen them without listening to the whole thing. The progression from section to section is essential in this massive single work. While there are perhaps other albums I might like to place here (notably Blue Train), I feel that these two present Coltrane expertly well.
Live at the Monterey Jazz Festival (John Handy): I know nothing about the artist or the even [I'm not even sure where the album turned up from] and two long tracks of extended open soloing wouldn't have been my thing in most cases. But John Handy pulls it off. Rather, he blows it away in every sense. It includes exceptional work by the whole band (I recall the bass in particular) but his solos are what I listen to when I feel I need more passion - more individualism, infused in my own work.
The Koln Concert (Keith Jarrett): It may be cliche, and I could probably select another Keith Jarrett album as well (I won't) but I have honestly never seen, heard, or experienced in any way anything like this. Had someone told me before hand the names of the songs and the composers, this concert would have still made the list. My mind is blown every time I hear it.
Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane: Older and generally less popular than the "recently discovered" work between the two, I also feel better. While recorded in the studio as opposed to live (and at Carnegie Hall at that), as far as I can tell, Coltrane wouldn't really know the difference. Miles once said that a woman could start dancing in front of him while soloing and the rest of the band would stop, but Trane would keep on playing none the wiser. On Monk, I feel the work is incredibly inventive and declarative - especially considering how early it was.
Notable Exceptions:
Charlie Parker - Obviously one of the greatest alto players ever, his short life hindered his potential tremendously. I have yet to find an album of him that, I feel, really showcases his work. I certainly have some nice songs, but nothing cohesive yet.
Oscar Peterson - I love Oscar Peterson, I just haven't found THE Oscar Peterson album. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.
