On July 7 the vinyl refreshing of the Original Jazz Classics series by Craft Recordings continues with Waltz for Debby by the Bill Evans Trio. Recorded live at the Village Vanguard with Scott LaFaro on bass and Paul Motion on drums, it documents the most celebrated of pianist Evans’ numerous three-piece bands, a union cut short by LaFaro’s untimely death by car accident a mere ten days after this recording was made. The circumstances deepen the record’s stature, intensifying the mystery of what might have been, but the music’s brilliance endures on its own merits. It is a top-tier masterpiece.
Amongst his many creative strengths, Bill Evans excelled at the trio, a tricky configuration when the instrumentation is keyboard, bass and drums, as too often a pianist will dominate the proceedings with autopilot lyricism with the bassist and drummer falling back into the role of support instead of interacting as equals.
Due to the piano trio’s proliferation over time, the above statement can easily be wielded with malice. It’s a flat fact the sheer volume of the recordings in the style can be intimidating of not fatiguing, particularly if the thrust of a recording leans toward standards and ballads in a straight-ahead bop framework. The speculation is that if the approach is too accessible in its exploration of tradition, the sounds will be lacking in the substantial.
As a distinguished extender of jazz tradition, Bill Evans complicates this premise with gusto. His music as a leader spills forth with a warmth unlikely to ruffle the feathers of anyone other than the moldiest of figs or the most obstinate of avant-gardists, and yet his playing is incredibly vigorous in its relationship to composition, improvisation, and interaction.
This dynamic quality is directly related to the abundance of Evans live recordings that have recently hit the retail racks. A nonengaged ear might consider this stream of posthumous releases to fall in the neighborhood of overkill for obsessives, but Evans’ work across his discography is in a constant state of development while being focused on a specific ideal (which is why a casual listener may surmise that it all sounds the same).
Every Evans live set unearthed is another thread in the overall weave of the guy’s recording career. And the live sets are doubly important in establishing that the jazz didn’t just gush out of Evans and his bandmates like water. They didn’t have “jazz in their bones.” Like any artistic discipline, playing jazz requires talent, but that talent demands constant honing through practice, performance and communication or it will wither away. Many have the aptitude but nobody’s a fucking natural, dig it? Creativity is a job of work. Get in the practice space, get in the studio, get on the bandstand, and do it.
Maybe the easiest way for an Evans newcomer who’s more amiable to jazz’s wilder side to engage with Waltz for Debby as an introduction is to start with the record’s final track, the Miles Davis composition “Milestones.” If this reads as antithetical to the album’s conception, please understand that the music is part of a larger day of recording also represented on Waltz for Debby’s predecessor, Sunday at the Village Vanguard, and furthermore that the contents of both original LPs didn’t adhere to a linear progression from afternoon to evening sets at the club.
The music was eventually issued chronologically on the 3CD set The Complete Village Vanguard Recordings, 1961. “Milestones” did close the second evening set, so it’s placement as Waltz for Debby’s finale is appropriate, but checking it out first should help soothe those nervous over the record’s preponderance of ballads.
Because “Milestones” is a cooker that showcases both the individuality of the players and their effectiveness as a collective, capturing Motion at his most energetic and LaFaro soloing up a storm as Evens goes into full modal flight (bringing McCoy Tyner to mind more than once). It’s difficult to imagine any fan of Coltrane’s Classic Quartet not being seriously swayed by this joyous burst into “Milestones.”
But another fabulous point of entry is Evans and LaFaro’s opening interaction in the title track, which presents Evans at his prettiest as LaFaro delivers some of the most subtly atypical but totally on-the-money bass playing on record, and all of this, just a little over a minute’s worth of sublimity, hits before Motion enters and the trio ups the tempo and swings the tune, notably the only Evans original on the LP (and one of two originals they played that day, the other being LaFaro’s “Gloria’s Step” (not on Waltz for Debby).
The remaining four tracks on Waltz for Debby are standards, though it should be emphasized that opener “My Foolish Heart,” written by Victor Young and Ned Washington, was only 12 years old at the time of this performance. Evans (like other great interpreters of jazz standards) didn’t engage with these tunes because they were “old” or part of a tradition (can a song just 12 years old be considered part of a tradition?) but because they allow for elevated expressions of beauty, not just from Evans but from his collaborators, especially Motion with the brushes and cymbals on “My Foolish Heart.”
Evans’ closest peer in regard to standards isn’t another pianist but saxophonist Sonny Rollins, a guy who’s penchant for giving sturdy melodies robust expression was almost unparalleled. This quality is present in the work of Coltrane (think Ballads not Om) and also Miles, which underscores the creative spark produced as Evans played with the trumpeter.
To further reinforce Evans relationship to standards, Waltz for Debby offers three in sequence, “Detour Ahead” (written in 1948 by Herb Ellis, Johnny Frigo and Lou Carter), “My Romance” (written in 1935 by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart) and “Some Other Time” (written in 1944 by Leonard Bernstein, Betty Comden, and Adolph Green), though “My Romance” also kicks up the pace to solidify the album’s range of motion. A huge credit to Evans is that his composition fits into the flow so seamlessly. In standing out, “Milestones” is a perfect capper to one of the essential LPs in the history of jazz.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A+
