Thelonious Monk’s 1957 LP Brilliant Corners, his third for the Riverside label, belongs in any serious collection of Modern Jazz. But only 4,000 people will be able to place Craft Recordings’ Small Batch edition of the album on their shelves. It’s out today, October 4, pressed on 180-gram vinyl at RTI using Neotech’s VR900 compound and cut via one-step lacquer process from the original tapes by Bernie Grundman. Each individually numbered set is nestled into a foil-stamped, linen-wrapped slipcase with an acrylic inset of the original artwork, a reproduction of the original tip-on jacket, frictionless packaging, and words by Ashley Khan. It suffices to say the set is an immaculate beauty to behold and hear.
Like the other greats of Modern Jazz, Thelonious Monk recorded a whole lot, in studio and captured in live performance. And in Monk’s case, the discography hasn’t been static, as documentation of gigs has been recently discovered, in one case rescued from a dumpster, to fan the flames of contemporary interest in one of the greatest of all jazz pianists.
But as fine as these new entries to the catalog have been, it’s important to not lose track of the recordings that established Monk’s status. Brilliant Corners is prime amongst them. To argue that this LP is the apex of his studio discography is in no way a contentious statement, as there are only two or three other candidates truly deserving of this distinction.
Brilliant Corners is doubly attractive as it heightened Monk’s profile in the 1950s. After emerging on the scene as a leader through essential records for Blue Note, he then lost his cabaret license, which kept him from performing live. Thereafter, he recorded for Prestige for a long stretch, then switched to Riverside as his fortunes improved. Along with returning to live performance, Brilliant Corners sold quite a few copies and also spotlighted Monk’s own compositions (his first Riverside album was a Ellington tribute and the second was made up of standards).
There are numerous Monk recordings that communicate his unique genius without expressing to the first-time listener why exactly the pianist was so controversial, but the boldness of Brilliant Corners’ opening title piece is still ascertainable today, the track gripping both compositionally and in terms of instrumental execution, as the band features Sonny Rollins on tenor sax, Ernie Henry on alto, Oscar Pettiford on bass, and Max Roach on drums.
An impressive ensemble, and yet, “Brilliant Corners” was so complex that after 25 attempts in a four-hour session on October 15, there wasn’t a completed take. The released recording was pieced together (pretty seamlessly) from the numerous takes by producer Orren Keepnews. Listening to “Brilliant Corners” today, its adventurous spirit is still startling. That Monk gained detractors alongside champions can be easily understood. But Monk, if daring, is never illogical.
To the contrary, “Ba-Lue Bolivar Ba-Lues Are” and “Pannonica” (where Monk plays celeste) are examples of Monk at his most inviting, as the sheer talent of the band intensifies the experience. And like elsewhere (everywhere) in his discography, Monk is always Monk, and nowhere on Brilliant Corners is Monk more front-and-center than the solo “I Surrender, Dear” (the only non-original composition on the LP).
Monk’s presence also dominates the closing “Bemsha Swing,” where Henry exits and trumpeter Clark Terry steps in and Paul Chambers takes the place of Pettiford. Having debuted on record in 1954 on the Prestige LP Thelonious Monk Trio, “Bemsha Swing” is the only original on the LP to have been previously recorded.
Perhaps due to this familiarity, the band dishes “Bemsha Swing” with increased gusto (Roach’s timpani playing a particular treat), completing a record of thorny conception that is nonetheless perfect. It stands amongst the very greatest jazz albums ever recorded, a historic set fully deserving of the Craft Recordings’ Small Batch treatment.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A+
