I came to this band through their Facebook page and was thrilled by their sound. When I noticed the great reed played David Lukacs (whose CD DREAM CITY I have praised here) was one of the two tenor saxophonists (he also plays clarinet) I asked him to put me in touch with saxophonist / leader Tom Callens. A few days ago, a neat package arrived; I extracted both the CD and vinyl issue, slid the former into the player, played it three times in a row, and was uplifted each time. It has also become the soundtrack to this post, appropriately.
Several Relevant Illustrations:
This is the band’s website, where you will see their video of the recording of DICKIE’S DREAM. I encourage you to click on it, or visit the video here:
Here’s TICKLE-TOE, a legal stimulant:
and a seductive live version of THE GOON DRAG. It’s also on the record, but the live version shows that their magic comes from inspiration:
Emulation, not Repetition (I):
LESTER’S BLUES is the wonderful embodiment of ideas (to be explicated below) for which Tom Callens may take credit. The repertoire springs from Lester’s recordings of about a decade, with nods to Count Basie, Billie Holiday, but also Lester’s Aladdin period, his Keynote sessions, and the aforementioned GOON DRAG, originally a Sammy Price recording for Decca. The titles will make this even clearer: KING PORTER STOMP / ONE O’CLOCK JUMP / EASY LIVING / LESTER’S BE-BOP BOOGIE / SIX CATS AND A PRINCE / MY MAN / THE GOON DRAG / SHOE SHINE BOY / AD LIB BLUES / TICKLE-TOE / SUN SHOWERS / DICKIE’S DREAM.
The Repeater Pencil (II):
There’s evocation and freedom, soulfully balanced, throughout. Lester said he didn’t want to be a “repeater pencil” (my musings on that here and here — the second post has the pleasure of my hero Dan Morgenstern correcting me).
Lester urged musicians to “be original,” to “sing your own song,” so I think he would be pleased by LESTER’S BLUES because it evokes him but does not copy. The band is not Supersax, nor is it Lester’s Greatest Hits, nor is it The Chronological Lester. What a relief. But there’s no thin “innovation,” no playing MY MAN with a Second Line drum beat, nor is it “what would happen if Lester had played GIANT STEPS or THAT’S A PLENTY?” Another relief.
The Musicians, Being Original (III):
Thus Delphine Gardin understands Billie but sounds pleasingly like herself (a self who knows the records but also knows the futility of mimicking them); ONE O’CLOCK JUMP is based on the small group Basie had ten years after Lester left; drummer Frederik Van den Berghe does not restrict himself to Jo Jones’ hi-hat; David Lukacs and Tom Callens know Lester’s solos but — except in the case of SHOE SHINE BOY — use them as suggestions rather than strictures. And there are warm traces of Herschel Evans and later reed players here as well. Singing EVENIN’, Tom Callens bows to Jimmy Rushing but is himself; pianist Luk Vermeir gracefully cuts a path around just-like-the-Count cliches. Trumpeter Hans Bossuyt has an estimable wildness that breaks out of the Buck Clayton mold; Sam Gerstmans has a beautiful lower-register sound that Walter Page would praise, but he’s heard other players; guitarists Victor Da Costa and Bart Vervaeck swing their own glorious ways.
A First Inducement to Purchase (IV):
Thus, even if you know every performance on this disc by heart; if you can hum Lester’s solos on both takes of Billie’s WHEN YOU’RE SMILING, you will find this recording a series of small warming surprises that, listened to several times, become inevitable and memorable. And the band is a band — there are beautifully “right” ensemble passages, jammed or written — thus the recording is more than a series of great solos over a rhythm section. Tom is responsible for all the arrangements, which are varied and delightful.
Technical Data (V):
It’s no small thing that its recorded sound is lovely, the result of old-fashioned technology that still rewards us. Callens’ liner note — more about that in a minute — is memorable in its rejection of all the digitalia that makes some sessions sound so cold: “Recorded live in one-takes (no edits), in one room with the band centered around two main microphones, mixed straight to analog 1/4″ tape on a two-track MCI 1H-110 machine. No external effects other than compression were used during tracking. The tapes were edited the old-school way — cutting and splicing — to prepare for mastering.” More technical details await interested readers on the LP sleeve.
What it Means, and it Means a Great Deal (VI):
I rarely quote from liner notes except when I’ve written them (!) but Tom’s notes are so quietly fervent and wise that I share them without editing. They give insights not primarily into the music of the band but the souls of its musicians and the soulful impulse behind its birth. I don’t exaggerate.
You could say that the members of Lester’s Blues are from the MTV generation: born in a wealthy, predominantly white Western country in the eighties: raised on FM radio hits, as well as underground music like grunge, hip hop, drum’n’bass, triphop, witnessing the change from analog technology like wired phones, television, radio, cassettes, and vinyl to the digital age of computers, compact discs, mp3s, wireless technology, and the internet. As we grew up, we saw the general ‘dehumanization’ of our world, as the disappearance of religion gave way to even great reliance on machines, the rise of tools for quantification and efficiency made out societies market-and-performance-driven, and the unrelenting blare of media left us in constant chaos and fragmentation.
As a result, the people around us are seeking authenticity, both externally and mentally, subconsciously feeling that they have lost something. People are looking for connection. You see it everywhere in specialist, handcrafted bicycles, clothes and beer; in yoga and meditation practices; in the return of past pop culture styles of dance, fashion, music, graphics and videos; in homegrown vegetables, local produce and slow food; in the desire for an original identity through particular choices of dress, tattoos, hobbies, language . . .
Most of our generation-X musicians went to the jazz conservatory and primarily learned the language of bebop and the idioms / styles that followed. To be sure, that syllabus didn’t include any lessons on ‘connection’. . . After this education, we were thrown into the real world to start honing our craft, possibly playing different genres of music, by choice or financial necessity. Such was, and still is, my path. Over the year, I became aware that I was missing something deeper. It led me to music that could connect to the soul: something healing or even spiritual. I listened to classical and world music, often religious music, or particular singer-songwriters, gospel, and blues.
In the middle of all of this, I discovered the music of Lester ‘Prez’ Young. I have kept on listening to him and his peers over the years. It eventually dawned on me just how deeply his expression could reach me, on many levels, and so much emotion. I am convinced that this music is one of the strongest, timeless projections in human nature, universally understood, and I get confirmation of that whenever I meet another Lester fan. It touches me in more ways than I can describe. It is music in which you feel that every musician is equally important, where everyone’s contributions melt into a single voice. It has its unpredictabilities and imperfections. It can be strange and weird, happy, vibrant, fast, slow . . . just like real life or nature. It is, of course, technically impressive, yet at the same time it reaches an equally (if not more) impressive emotional level, sending shivers up your spine, making it a rare example of both technical prowess and emotional intelligence.
After a moment of deep introspection somewhere in 2016, it came to me that playing this music with people I love and respect professionally was something that I had to do, like a calling. To study and share that music and its language-fabric, bringing it to life on stage and creating a moment where everybody would come together, right there in the present. To look for surprises, to try and have a coherent musical dialogue devoid of excess, to be open to our humanness, with all its quirks, inventiveness, and humor. In sum: to search for another way of living the music than what we have become used or programmed to do.
This way of seeing things makes every step – the concert, rehearsal, recording – a life-learning experience. We have already gained so much from being close to the music of Young, Basie, and their peers. Even if Lester Young may hesitate to see us playing his music and emulating his style – he used to say, ‘You got to be original, man!’ – I think we are paying in our own small way a tribute to his always-searching, life-respecting, irreverent yet humble, freedom-seeking being. That’s what I see in this music, and hope you can see it, too.
After Such Knowledge, What Action? (VII):
Here (on Bandcamp) you can buy a “vinyl” 12″ long-playing record with a lovely Savoy label, or a CD, or download the music digitally. Another digital version can be purchased through Amazon here and through Apple Music here.
(Other sites offer the music, but JAZZ LIVES doesn’t endorse other streaming music platforms that take advantage of musicians; if you want to exploit creators, you’ll have to find your own paths.)
This is extraordinary uplifting music, and it swings like mad. Who deserves a copy more than you, Faithful Reader?
May your happiness increase!