Five-Star Collection... Herb Ellis

Herb Ellis 

Nothing But The Blues

For the past few years, there has been, among the young moderns, a renewal of reverence for the blues. For the insecure and the confidence men who tried to bore into the in-group, the blues seemed to take on the guise of a new approach to Zen Buddhism as interpreted by Jack Kerouac. They accordingly used the word "funky" as a shibboleth, but their hard-breathing gave them away; because they played the blues like Sloan Wilson writes fiction.

The point is that the blues can’t be forced. It comes naturally out of a Horace Silver or Thelonious Monk or Sonny Rollins or Barney Kessel or Herb Ellis, or it doesn't come out at all. Herb has it; there were times during ensemble lessons at The School of Jazz in the Berkshires in the summer of 1957 when Herb (the faculty played alongside the students) would play something so down home, so earthily visceral that everybody would fall out, with Dizzy Gillespie usually roaring the loudest.

(...)

And this blues-bursting date is, I feel, Ellis' best album yet and one of the most directly fulfilling sessions of the year. Roy Eldridge feels that the context of the record brought about Stan Getz's "playing the greatest I've heard him. He comes from the old school too, you know, and he proved it on that date. Most of the younger cats can't get with but one thing; Getz can fit into something like this too. Like Royal Garden and Tin Roof. He fitted there". In fact, in this session, everybody fit, and if you want to know what all this talk about the blues means, this is one place you won't get a bum steer into the semantics of hipster theosophy. *Nat Hentoff (from the liner notes)*

Gather 'round, children, and listen to the message of the blues. The whole story is right here in eight, eloquent preachments by as fine a quintet of wailers as can be assembled.

There is so much strong, red meat here that to attempt to detail its high spots would take up more space than we've available. But some of the more memorable moments include Herb's bongo-like obligato to Roy's open horn on the galloping Big Red's; the sweetly lyrical Getz tenor on Tin Roof, accorded unusual, gentle treatment; an amazingly easy and relaxed Soft Winds, and the muted trumpet in unison with single string guitar in the first chorus of Royal.

Herb seems everywhere at once, comping tastefully, riffing chords and single string behind the other soloists; pungently interjecting chorded comments, and, of course, discoursing lengthily on blues-matter in general in all his solos.

Luckily it was a good day for Stan and Roy, too. And, thanks to Ellis' alternating role, a piano is never once missed in the rhythm section. Brown and Levey take care of business in basic, no-nonsense fashion. One of the very best jazz albums this year. Don't miss it.

*John A. Tynan (Down Beat, October 16, 1958 [5 stars])*

1 - Pap's Blues

(Ray Brown)

2 - Big Red's Boogie Woogie

(Herb Ellis)

3 - Tin Roof Blues

(George Brunies, Paul Mares, Ben Pollack, Leon Roppolo, Mel Stitzel, Walter Melrose)

4 - Soft Winds

(Benny Goodman)

5 - Royal Garden Blues

(Spencer Williams, Clarence Williams)

6 - Patti Cake

(Herb Ellis)

7 - Blues For Janet

(Herb Ellis, Ray Brown)

8 - Blues For Junior

(Ray Brown)

Herb Ellis (guitar), Roy Eldridge (trumpet),

Stan Getz (tenor sax), Ray Brown (bass), Stan Levey (drums).

Recorded at Radio Recorders, Hollywood, California, October 11, 1957