Tag Archives: Albert Einstein

“MORE TOMORROW”: SCOTT ROBINSON, “TENORMORE”

Scott Robinson isn’t a single flower; he’s a whole garden in bloom.  Each phrase he plays contains surprises: sounds and feelings he is intent on sharing with us.

He does so many things well that perhaps it’s hard for those of us who love him to sit down and contemplate him as he deserves.  Having heard him in person for fifteen years, I am always amazed.  He is brave; he is honest; he doesn’t coast.  Like him, his music is welcoming, never predictable; kind and energized.

His most recent CD, TENORMORE, is a great accomplishment, and it reflects his long love affair with the tenor saxophone, which he plays with more ardor and expertise than others who are better-known.  Unlike some of his recordings, it is narrow in its focus (“narrow” is a compliment here): he plays only that one horn, and there are four musicians with him: Helen Sung, piano, Hammond B3 organ; Dennis Mackrel, drums; Martin Wind, string bass and acoustic bass guitar; Sharon Robinson plays flute on THE WEAVER.

The disc starts in the most open way: a solo performance by Scott on the Lennon-McCartney song of my youth, AND I LOVE HER, which shows not only his full mastery of the horn but also his passion, controlled yet ferocious.  And from then you’re on your own: Scott’s music is too spacious to compartmentalize, although I know some listeners will be putting what they hear in tiny labeled boxes, but it would be both rude and reductive to do so.  I have written more briefly than usual of this CD because it’s too spacious for mere prose.

But what I hear on this disc is a wooing, playful love — for the horn, for the musics it can make — Scott’s deep feelings for the worlds he knows and those he wants us to imagine.  I particularly delight in his purring sweet PUT ON A HAPPY FACE, which feels like a kind arm around your shoulders when you feel low, and the dance he and wife Sharon perform on THE WEAVER.  Other standards, explored with care and daring, include THE NEARNESS OF YOU and THE GOOD LIFE, and original compositions are Martin Wind’s RAINY RIVER, Scott’s own TENOR ELEVEN, TENOR TWELVE, and the title song.

But this will show and tell you more than I ever could:

TENORMORE is also a celebration of Scott’s 60th birthday.  Savor with me the pleasure of saying, “I share the planet with Scott Robinson.  My goodness, what a great thing that is!

And a postscript, just in: I saw this quotation on Facebook and instantly  thought of Scott and TENORMORE: We are slowed down sound and light waves, a walking bundle of frequencies tuned into the cosmos. We are souls dressed up in sacred biochemical garments and our bodies are the instruments through which our souls play their music.  The source?  Albert Einstein, violin.

May your happiness increase!

TELLING TIME, SEVERAL WAYS: DAWN LAMBETH and her RASCALS at the JAZZ BASH BY THE BAY (March 2, 2019)

Sixty memorable minutes. Never mind the odd composer credits.

 

It’s all relative, as Einstein tells his grandmother.  When a man sits on a hot stove, a minute seems forever; when he’s kissing his sweetheart, forever seems like a minute.  She says, “For this you won a prize?”

Dawn Lambeth

At the Jazz Bash by the Bay this last March, Dawn Lambeth and her Rascals (the name I’ve given to this delightful little group of swinging friends) demonstrated Einstein’s discovery in the nicest ways: with performances whose text is the nature of time and how it is perceived, and declarations of love in its many forms.

The Rascals are Riley Baker, drums (catch his wonderful accents behind his father’s trumpet solo on ALWAYS: “Good deal!”); Jacob Zimmerman, alto saxophone; Clint Baker, trumpet; Jerry Krahn, guitar; Ike Harris, string bass; Jeff Hamilton, piano.

First, James P. Johnson’s IF I COULD BE WITH YOU ONE HOUR TONIGHT (or, as it appeared on the 1929 Mound City Blue Blowers record label, ONE HOUR) — with the yearning verse:

From sixty minutes to eternity, Irving Berlin’s ALWAYS:

And as an instrumental meditation on the future — even when the future is seen as the fulfillment of a promise or a threat — Shelton Brooks’ SOME OF THESE DAYS, which rocks: watch out for Jeff and Riley, respectively but not respectfully:

More to come from this nice unbuttoned after-hours set.  (California festivals start early and end early, so I think this evocation of Fifty-Second Street ended at 11 PM, but it felt like the real thing, no matter what our watches said.)

May your happiness increase!