LP-666

Hey! It's James Moody

Released 1960

Recording and Session Information

James Moody, tenor saxophone, flute; John Gray, guitar; Eldee Young, bass; Clarence Johnston. drums; Eddie Jefferson, vocals
Chicago, December 29, 1959

9930 Troubles in de lowlands
9931 Tali
9932 Please say yes
9933 Stella by starlight
9934 Indian summer
9935 Blue jubilee
9936 Woody'n you
9937 Don't blame me
9938 Last train from Overbrook
9939 Summertime

Track Listing

Stella By Starlight	Washington, Young	December 29 1959
Indian Summer	Herbert	December 29 1959
Don't Blame Me	McHugh, Fields	December 29 1959
Last Train From Overbrook	James Moody	December 29 1959
Please Say Yes	McIntosh	December 29 1959
Blue Jubilee	McIntosh	December 29 1959
Woody'n You	Dizzy Gillespie	December 29 1959
Trouble In De Lowlands	James Moody	December 29 1959
Summertime	DuBore, Gershwin	December 29 1959
Tali	McIntosh	December 29 1959

Liner Notes

THE jazz scene today is a treadmill that moves slowly but inexorably to the right. Yesterday's innovator, who entered the stage at far left, may be a reactionary by tomorrow's standards. In these terms it might be said that James Moody currently is situated smack dab in the middle of the stage.

Moody's perspectives, his approach to playing a horn, may not have altered substantially; it is the angle from which he is inspected that has induced this optical illusion. To Louis Armstrong and his contemporaries, Moody probably is a modernist, "one of them damn beboppers" still under fire from Satchmo and a few other diehard veterans for allegedly destroying jazz by having extended its boundaries beyond the minor seventh. But to Ornette Coleman or Charlie Mingus, Moody may seem old-fashioned, even conservative, since the style he represents basically is rooted in a movement that reached its peak more than a decade ago.

All this attitudinizing is, of course, irrelevant. The only point that remains valid is: does Moody play with soul, with his own feelings, and with the technical ability to transmit them to the listener? The answer, afflrmative of course, may be found in any of his albums and most particularly, I think, in the present LP with its informal approach and uncluttered context.

The pattern of Moody's career has been a simple one, composed of three main phases. As the army took him in 1943, when he was 18, and kept him through '46, he got off to a relatively late professional start. The first major phase was his membership in the Dizzy Gillespie band of 1947; the second was a three-year in Europe freelancing mainly in Stockholm and Paris. The third stage, which has lasted up the present, has found Moody touring the U.S. as leader of his own band. Originally known exclusively as a tenor saxophonist, he began doubling on alto during the second phase and recently, as his Argo LPs eloquently attest, has been concentrating more and more on the flute.

On these sides Moody plays tenor and flute, with the backing of a rhythm section which, except for the two tracks featuring Eddie Jefferson's vocals, is pianoless. This, howver, is not the kind of piano-bereft instrumentation that leaves a conspicuous gap in the accompaniment: the presence of a guitar assures both Moody and his listeners of an unobstrusive but guide through the harmonic contours of each track.

The guitarist in question. though not yet a generally familiar jazz name, is greatly respected among fellow-musicians who have heard him in Chicago. Johnny Gray's regular gig is the Don McNeil Breakfast Club show. Aside from his studio chores he occasionally has an opportunity for a record date; he was heard previously with Moody on Last Train From Overbrook (LP 637). Gray's work is reinforced by the sturdy presence of Eldee Young, the 24-year-old Chicago-born bassist who, after a long apprenticeship in the rhythm and blues field working for Chuck Willis, T-Bone Walker, et al, found a suitable niche in the Ramsey Lewis trio, with which he has been heard in clubs and on Argo LPs.

That Moody's mood is a modern one and his sound more compelling than ever can be deduced from the first two notes on the opening number. Stella By Starlight is a tenor sax excursion in which his approach is certainly less florid than on some of his band performances, and oeems to swing more loosely all the way. By placing this as the opening track on side Moody has made himself pretty hard to follow, but there is none of the expected letwdown. Indian Summer is a flute solo in completely contrasted pace and style, the first 16 bars played with rubato guitar before the accompaaiment eases into a moderate tempo.

Don't 8Jame Me, a tenor solo, is a striking illustration of Moody's talent for setting mood and holding it consistently through a performance. Notice how, at bar 10 of his first chorus, he uses a gap in the melody (actually a long note) to insert a swift and imaginative sequence of improvised notes but still returns to earth in time to resume the pursuit of what is basically a melodic solo.

Even the double-time passages in the second chorus are occasional and discreet. This is one of Moody's most compelling and best-constructed tenor solos, It wouldn't surprise me to hear it set to lyrics by Eddie Jefferson on some future album. And that, of course, is exactly what has happened with the next track. Last Train From Overbrook.

The original version of this fascinating blues theme was an instrumental, used as the title number of an LP Moody taped on his release from the Overbrook institution in New Jersey. The story was too well told in the notes by Dave Usher and Frank London Brown on LP 657 to need repetition here; besides, in setting lyrics to this theme Jefferson has recreated the story in a poignant first-person story of Moody's own experiences and emotions. In addition to Eddie's vocal, this new version differs the others in several ways, notably in that Moody plays flute instead of tenor.

Not too many of his listeners realize that Jefferson, who since 1953 has doubled as manager and singer with Moody, was the first man ever to set lyrics to jazz instrumentals, years before King Pleasure and almost two decades before Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross. Now 41, Jefferson is a Pittsburgher wih a long background in show business as a dancer and singer. It was he whose lyrics to Moody's celebrated I'm In The Mood for Love solo, which he sang on Argo LP 613.

The pleasant theme of Please Say Yes was written by Tom McIntosh, who plays trombone in Moody's regular band. Moody again reverts to tenor and there are a few moments that are, surprisingly, reminiscent of Getz, who's about the last soloist I'd have expected to compare with Moody.

Blüe Jubilee is a flute blues with very strong support, as well as individual solos, from Gray and Young. Listening to Moody here I reflected that the flute, after only six years of common jazz use, has begun to find its own jazz sound. Just as you wouldn't want a jazz trumpeter to sound like Rafael Mendez, or a saxophonist like Freddy Martin, men like Moody are establishing for the flute in jazz a peculiar tonal personaäty- It's getting so you can tell a flutist from a flautist.

Woody'n You, the Dizzy Gillespie tune of the early '40s, is played as an up-tempo, tenor solo; Trouble In De Lowlands (with Eddie Jefferson adding local color at the end as we seem to hear a baby crying) is a folksy and very basic minor 12-bar blues played on flute all the way.

Summertime, bringing Eddie Jefferson front and center again, offers some seasonal reflections that evidently never occurred to DuBose Heyward: I was especially touched by Eddie's observation that fish are jumping out of the lake, flop flop flop/trying to give the fishermen a break. This tongue-in-cheek treatment of the Gershwin song is by no means without precedent. I remember hearing a girl named Jerry Kruger Going something even more irreverent with it back in the 1930s.

Tali, a title I haven't been able to figure out except that it's an anagram of tail, is the most interesting track of the album, compositionally at least. McIntosh has conceived some pretty changes in this minor theme. Gray's guitar complements Moody's flute, punctuates, counterpoints, and briefly plays in two-part harmony with him. It's a delightful and most unusual performance, reflecting on McIntosh, Moody, and Gray.

No matter where he stands on that eternal treadmill of jazz, I believe James Moody knows just where he is, and who he is, and what to do about it. Keep watching him closely; he may not be as far across the stage as you think.

LEONARD FEATHER