Jazz Revisited

7. Kurt Elling - The Messenger
In the Coltrane post, I made mention of my penchant for vocal jazz. Soon after my discovery of Blue Train, I began listening to Mark Murphy and Chet Baker in earnest and trying desperately to improve my vocal chops. I could hardly have chosen two more disparate vocalists had I searched all of Jazzdom. For a while, I thought I was getting somewhere. I took Mark Murphy's unconventional and unabashedly daring arrangements and improvisations to heart, pushing myself to the edge of my comfort zone. I attempted to fill my voice with melancholy and dreams lost in booze and smoky haze like Chet Baker. All of this was moderately successful for me. Then, when I was a senior in college and at the very top of my game, I heard Kurt Elling.
A lot of people have recorded "Nature Boy," just go to AMG and take a look. But do yourself a favor and check out Elling's version. The important thing here is that Elling pays homage to the definitive version of the tune (Nat King Cole's) in his intro, and then lets his rhythm section cook over the changes and transform it into something fresh. What really blew me away was the scat solo in the improv section. The first time I listened to The Messenger, I was in my car driving home; I had to pull over and just sit and listen. I was blessed with the opportunity to see the Kurt Elling Quartet in Seattle a few years back. His version of "Tanya Jean" with the vocalise of Dexter Gordon's sax solo, my favorite, was absolutely mesmerizing. Hero worship aside, I think what struck me most about Elling on The Messenger was his connection to the rhythm section. He bridges the gap that often exists between singers and instrumentalists, providing room for everyone to shine. Moreover, he proves that you can be progressive as a jazz vocalist and still be respectful of the idiom. And for me, Elling's mastery of the style and ingenuity in interpretation showed me that I was on the right track, but not nearly passionate enough.

New Love

5. John Coltrane - Blue Train
I played guitar in my high school jazz band, and I was never really any good. Still, when I started college I tried out for and played in a couple jazz ensembles. One of my directors prompted me to sing a bit with the vocal jazz group and I quickly discovered that I was much better at singing jazz than I was at trying to comp and solo on my guitar. As a singer I could emulate jazz artists much easier than I ever could on guitar. That said, most of my knowledge of jazz was still rooted in the cheese-jazz that I played in high school. I wanted to embrace it, live it, breathe it, blah blah blah, but I needed a staring point. On a trip to Seattle to visit my sister, it was early Fall and rainy, I walked into a used CD shop on Capitol Hill and found the album that would spark a new love in my life.
At some point in the years leading up to college, I heard the title track from John Coltrane's Blue Train. I can't really recall if this is true, but I believe it was in one of the deleted scenes from the movie Singles. I certainly felt that the track had something to do with Seattle, and that it was necessary to purchase the album in Seattle and listen to it while the rain fell outside and I breathed in the steam of my americano from the Coffee Messiah. Blue Train is important to me in so many different ways, it's really difficult to describe. My favorite moment of the entire album is right after Coltrane begins his solo on the first track. Philly Joe Jones enters the tune with what have to be the wettest sounding cymbals I've ever heard. Those few bars did more to hook me on jazz than anything I listened to before or since; and every time I listen to Blue Train now, every one of my senses is transported back to Seattle and that rainy Fall day. Only a few albums have that kind of staying power for me. It led me to other jazz albums like Miles Davis' Kind of Blue and Lee Morgan's Sidewinder, and made me a smarter, more impassioned musician.

An Obvious Choice

2. Nevermind - Nirvana
As far as impact on the rest of my life goes, this should be #1 on my list. Bear in mind that this album has in some way influenced every musical choice that I have made since I first heard it while driving around Pocatello with my cousins in 1992. Somewhere between "In Bloom" and "Lithium" I felt the full angst of my teenage life begin to erupt. By "On a Plain" I was indelibly hooked on all things Nirvana, Seattle, Loud, Caffeinated, Ripped, Plaid, Rainy, Dank, and Punk. I will not spend any time trying to critique this seminal creation since countless things have already been said about it and all that followed. Consider this though: Since the 1950s and the birth of Rock and Roll, Rock music (not Pop), has been running through cycles and recreating itself about once every decade. It was saved from corporate schlock in the 60s by the Brits (at least twice). The 70s saw the surfacing of Punk and a hearkening back, however fast and distorted, to Rock's 50s roots. Punk went local and underground in the 80s and rippled out across the world as the decade ended and Grunge took down the King of Pop (and the entire kingdom really). But what has happened since Nirvana? I'm sure that for some pre-teens out there the newest Brit Pop band may be a musical revolution. And there are some damn fine musicians making some damn fine music right now. I am revoltingly biased on this subject, but Nirvana represents the last time our culture was redefined by a single album, a single song, a single word.