I can listen to anything by Blue Mitchell. The same goes for Gerry Mulligan and Lee Morgan. There are others, but off the top of my head these three are of the few who can squeeze a melody from a single note. They don't play the type of experimental "free jazz" that sounds like a bunch of three-year-olds messing with daddy's instruments that was popular around the time this record was released. You don't need a "jazz diploma" to appreciate this music (yes, such a thing really does exist!)
OK. I wasn't going to do this. But what the hell. The following is a slight detour from my intended course: jazz in schools was originally just an extracurricular activity not associated with academic credit. Students would get together outside of school hours to learn about and play jazz. In 1941, the New School for Social Research, located in Manhattan, offered a jazz history course. That was great, because jazz history is awesome and should be studied. Then, in 1945, the Schillenger House, a school in Boston, offered a two-year music curriculum that awarded graduates with an artist diploma, meaning they could get work as dish washers almost anywhere. In 1973 Schillenger House became the Berklee School of Music, which would over many years earn a well deserved and distinguished reputation for teaching already very talented musicians how to fully understand and play music to their greatest potential. They might still end up as dish washers, but they'd be able to outplay anyone else in the dish pit. By the 1950s there were dozens of colleges and universities offering jazz diplomas, which produced a lot of jazz music teachers, which resulted in more colleges and universities offering jazz music diplomas. And graduating more dish washers, too.
At its core, jazz is organic music that has evolved as younger generations of musicians, influenced by those who came before, created new music and took it to somewhere else. But evolution makes mistakes, and because of this there exists a lot of so-called free jazz, a kind of jazz death metal that to me sounds worse than nails on a chalkboard. But people with jazz diplomas love it and spend hours eagerly analyzing every note. I don't know what they're looking for. Maybe they're trying to find something that sounds good. There are no chords to follow in free jazz. It is atonal, meaning the music isn't based on a tonal system like most other music, and because of this there are also no rules to follow. It makes my head hurt. But it is also closely tied to the civil rights movement, and as a result of this it has been described as angry music. I get that because racism also makes my head hurt. But the music itself is too far out - too angry - for me. I don't get It and can't listen to it, probably because I'm not an angry black man. And also, Tylenol is expensive.
This LP isn't free jazz, even if Herbie Hancock plays on it (some people list him a modern free jazz artist, which he isn't). This is a very melodic record. It is accessible, which is not to suggest it is simple or unchallenging. But it's definitely not angry. Nobody is randomly throwing notes at the page and then setting the music on fire by blowing flames through a horn. The talent assembled on this record is focused. They have charts to follow and come together seamlessly to create beauty instead of anger. It's music that makes sense (to me) and transports me to a happy place, and that's all I really want. I don't want to be angry. I would rather be hopeful. Whatever the wrongs of the past, the future is all we have. What kind of music would you rather fill it with?
Down With It! is trumpeter Blue Mitchell's second release with this lineup of musicians, which consists of Junior Cook on tenor sax, Gene Taylor on bass, Al Foster on drums and an up-and-coming Chick Corea on piano. Their first go-round together was The Thing To Do, recorded not quite a year earlier. They were a music making machine by the time Down With It! was recorded, in July, 1965, and Mitchell has been quoted as saying he regards this album as the better of the two, although this may have been said in aid of selling more copies. Musicians do like to get paid for their efforts. But he did have a point, because by this time they'd had a year of playing together in front of live audiences behind them and were full of confidence. Each musician seems to know where the others are going - and this is during an era when this sort of music was being overshadowed by the more extreme "hard bop" sound that was then the rage. Mitchell may not have not been the most daring trumpeter, but he was the most reliable.
With Mitchell, consistency was always the name of the game. His sense of melody, fine-tuned over five years spent as a member of pianist Horace Silver's Quintet, really is second to none. He and another member of Silver's quintet, Junior Cook, would eventually form their own group, which is featured on Down With It!
Being a Blue Note Tone Poet Series release, my expectations for this pressing were - naturally - up there. I don't know why, because I've learned there's no need to worry about Tone Poet releases. Their track record is excellent and this release is no different. That doesn't mean I like everything issued as part of the Tone Poet series - I don't - but what I do like always sounds exceptional. I can't think of another label that has had so many consistently outstanding releases, except may Music Matters Jazz, which I don't think is in business anymore and whose records were, more-or-less, just expensive Tone Poets. Mastered directly from the original master tapes by Coherent Audio's Kevin Gray (when his name shows up you know you're in for something special), and produced by the Tone Poet himself, Joe Harley, Down With It! really sounds better than it ever has. I'll temper that by saying I haven't yet heard an original pressing, but I can't imagine it sounding any better than this. In fact, I'll bet it doesn't, although I'm sure it also sounds great.
Blue Mitchell blowing his horn.
The first track on side one is High Heel Sneakers, a blues classic written by Tommy Tucker, in 1963. It's been covered by many artists, including Jerry Lee Lewis, Elvis Presley, Pinetop Perkins, Stevie Wonder and the Grateful Dead. I like Tucker's version the best, but Mitchell's groovy treatment sure is tasty. When the horns kicked in (they follow the lyric line), they came at me from all around the room. I'm talking goosebumps, and if you've got a halfway decent playback system you'll feel them, too. In lesser hands, this could have been pop fluff, something Blue Note seemed to be seeking in the '60s, so hungry was the label for another hit and a badly needed cash infusion. Instead, it comes off as polished and sophisticated, the high energy of Foster's ride cymbal pushing everything along nicely. It could even be described as funky.
Perception is next, and it is the first of two original Mitchell compositions. It has a medium tempo, perfectly suited to Mitchell's melodic style. This is also the where Corea starts to come into the light. I'm sure a lot of listeners at the time were looking at each other and going, "Chick Who?"
Alone, Alone and Alone, up next, is stunningly gorgeous. Words like "graceful" and "elegant" come to mind, and I really do believe it to be a highlight of this recording, if not the highlight. Interestingly, this song was given to Mitchell by a Japanese trumpeter the album's liner notes refer to as Hino (actual name: Terumasa Hino) during a trip to Tokyo at the beginning of 1965. "They were having these afternoon jazz sessions over there," said Blue, upon his return, which he went on to describe as being great fun. One of the sets featured Hino on trumpet and his brother on drums, during which they played this song. When Mitchell told Hino how much he liked it, Hino gave it to him. I'm so glad this happened, because it is such a lovely tune and is delightful to listen to. Mitchell, in the album liner notes, implies he didn't know much else about Hino or his whereabouts. "Now we're trying to find out what happened to him," he says. But Hino was doing fine (details in the Bonus Track, below).
Side two begins with Mitchell's other contribution called March On Selma, a song that supposedly has nothing to do with the civil rights movement, which was generating big news when this was recorded. Or does it? Mitchell claimed it didn't, but who knows what he was really thinking or what would have happened if he said it did. Strange times, indeed! It's a catchy blues, with lots of riffing back and forth under which Foster lays a solid beat. I can definitely hear the Horace Silver influence on this one! You can dance to it if you want to, but I'd rather stay seated in the sweet spot.
One Shirt follows, and this is where everybody gets to let loose. Junior Cook really lets loose, his tenor sax suddenly out of the cage and flying all over the place. Foster shows off his drumming skills, Corea shines on piano and Mitchell manages to hold it all together, rounding things up like a musical border collie. It's a strange name for the song, but I think that was something of a trend at the time. The stranger the better.
Samba de Stacy closes the album and it's a bossa nova, which was then gaining popularity due mostly to the Stan Getz-Joao Gilberto album that had been released the previous year.
Down With It! is convincing evidence that Blue Mitchell was very much under-appreciated when he was alive, if not almost forgotten since. This is not his only Tone Poet appearance, and it's great to see such a talent finally receive the recognition he is due.
This record is, without any hesitation at all …