Richard Evans Trio - Richard's Almanac
Released 1959
Recording and Session Information
The Richard Evans Trio
Richard Evans, bass; Jack Wilson, piano; Robert Barry, drums
Ter-Mar Recording Studios, Chicago, July 21, 22 and 23 July, 1959
9609 Jeepers Creepers
9610 I'm glad there is you
9611 Trees
9612 Vera
9613 The Preacher
9614 Consu
9615 Crazy Rhythm
9616 Bye bye, blackbird
9617 Daybreak (unissued)
9618 Should I?
Track Listing
Trees | Rasbach, Kilmer | July 21-23, 1959 |
Vera | Richard Evans | July 21-23, 1959 |
I'm Glad There Is You | Madeira, Dorsey | July 21-23, 1959 |
The Preacher | Horace Silver | July 21-23, 1959 |
Crazy Rhythm | Meyer, Kahn, Caesar | July 21-23, 1959 |
Bye Bye Blackbird | Henderson, Dixon | July 21-23, 1959 |
Daybreak | Adamson, Grofe | July 21-23, 1959 |
Consu | Jack Wilson | July 21-23, 1959 |
Should I | Brown, Freed | July 21-23, 1959 |
Jeepers Creepers | Warren, Mercer | July 21-23, 1959 |
Liner Notes
LINER NOTE WRITING, unlike other forms of fun-and-profit endeavor, is a unique and significant means of expression. It is the last bastion in the struggle to preserve The Impertinent Essay.
This profound realization came to me quite suddenly recently, while I was sitting in the bathtub thinking about the Richard Evans trio and its performance in this LP. I thought about all the jazz critics, musicologists, psychologists, philosophers, night club comedians, record company owners, sociologists, and eccentrics writing liner notes. Every thirty seconds a set of liner notes is born, I said to myself. Obviously in need of inspiration, I splashed a bit of lukewarm water in my face and thought what some of the leading liner note scholars would say about this album.
Heinz Gruber-Jung, the noted classical composer and Birdland bleacherite, would write: "It is notable that Evans, in both his choice of keys and diminished chords, should reflect the thinking of both Bela Bartok and Luke Appling. But, of course, it was Monk who began it all be playing tonic chords with his jaw in 1947.
Or Morton Willhoff, editor of The Jazz Cipher: "Evans, it seems to me, plays in an angular, variegated fashion—a pastiche of James P. Johnson, Heinrich Wasserman, and Rob Roy. Of course, it was Heinz Gruber-Jung who first
termed his playing 'notable'."
Or Ara Gitwit, the jazzman's friend and usher at some of the most epochal jazz record sessions: "Evans blows. He blows hard. And when he blows the other guys join in. They dig him. They blow, too. It's wild."
Somehow, I couldn't imagine any of these approaches being the right one. After all, this marked Evans' debut on records as leader of his own group. The record was important to him. So I talked with Evans.
I discovered that he is 27 years old, that he was born in Birmingham, Alabama. He came to Chicago when he was five. He was more concerned with painting than music (he won a citywide contest, as a painter, when he was at
DuSable high school in Chicago). When he was 17 he began studying trombone, then turned to bass. After a stint in the army from 1953 to 1955 (as an illustrator), he returned to his home and worked with local jazz groups.
In 1956, he spent eight months as bassist with the band of Lionel Hampton, touring Europe and Australia. He spent three months with Maynard Ferguson's band, then accompanied Dinah Washington in '57. After a session of study at Wilson junior college, he returned to jazz, working local concerts, jamming at sessions, and accompanying visiting singers (including Dakota Staton). From November, 1958 to May, 1959, he headed his own trio at the southside Pershing Lounge.
He has recorded with Ferguson, Hampton, Miss Washington, and a group headed by Chicago jazzman-philosopher Sun Ra. His compositions (he's turned out approximately 25 to date; more are in the work) have been recorded by
Johnny Griffin (Where's Your Overcoat, Boy), Hampton (Lullaby Of Forrealville) and Benny Golson (This Night).
Jack Wilson, the pianist in the Evans trio, is 23. He's from Fort Wayne, Indiana, but Evans met him in Atlantic City in 37. Evans was with Dinah Washington; Wilson was heading his own quartet. Soon, Wilson joined the
Washington entourage. In '58, Wilson settled down in Chicago as a member of Evans' group. A months ago he entered the army. He's currently performing as a musician-in-uniform.
Drummer Robert Barry, 27, has been playing drums since he and Evans were classmates at DuSable. His experience has been confined to local groups, including those of Johnny Griffin and Sun Ra.
Evans had no intention of creating a "new music" for this date. "The tunes are digestible, not involved," he told me. "They're not for musicians only. This is music the people can dig, too." The tunes were selected because Evans "liked the way the chords ran; they gave us food for thought."
Eight of the tunes are standards. Trees, by Joyce Kilmer and Oscar Rasbach, dates from 1922, but is planted in modern earth here. I'm Glad There Is You, a Jimmy Dorsey-Madeira collaboration, is given a Latin flavor by the Evans trio. Horace Silver's The Preacher is gospelish enough to make Mildred Falls smile; on it Evans takes an arco solo (note that he's out of the solo light most of the time). Crazy Rhythm, which goes back to Broadway in 1928, features drummer Barry, logically enough.
Bye Bye Blackbird, another oldie, features Evans again, briefly and tastefully. Daybreak is the most balladic of the lot. Should I (remember the 1929 Hollywood film, Lord Byron Of Broadway? Neither do I.) bounces along lightly, with some walking bass and fleet Wilson piano. Jeepers Creepers (Hollywood again: the 1958 film, Going Places) is the sprightly closer.
The two originals — Evans' Vera and Wilson's Consu — have a common inspiration. Each is a tribute to the musician's fiance. Vera emerges here as a Latinish type, zestful and bright; Consa (for Consuela) is moody and softly
romantic.
And that's it — three young musicians performing eight standards and two originals, On their initial LP as a trio.
I could say that this LP will live forever in the annals of recorded sound. I could say that this trio will "gas you" or "recall moments of Ravel or Debussy. But I won't.
As Wynton Kelly, one of our leading free thinkers, says, "I'm only one...guy." I'll stop right here. The rest is for listening.
Don Gold