Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com
What is one to make of the newly released Unheard Bird: The Unissued Takes? The two-CD set features previously unreleased alternate takes and false starts of Parker's recordings for Verve between 1949 and 1952. The 69 tracks feature masters and multiple takes of Parker in a range of studio settings, including quartets, quintets, soloing with Machito and His Afro-Cubans, with strings and fronting big bands. All of the sessions were produced by Norman Granz for his Clef and Norgran labels, which eventually were absorbed by his Verve label in 1956 at the start of the 12-inch LP era.
It's probably fair to say that this set is meant for Parker enthusiasts—those who have spent years listening to Parker's Verve master takes and will appreciate the misfires and variations in the new material. By contrast, listeners new to Parker and those with short attention spans will likely be left mystified by the new material. For the uninitiated, listening to Parker attempt songs over and over again will be akin to asking diners to repeatedly try failed dishes. There comes a point early on where appetites expire.
Long-time students of Parker (myself included) will find much of this material fascinating. From the time I was 15, I spent years listening to Parker's Verve recordings on The Genius of Charlie Parker LPs, so it's somewhat gratifying to hear how Parker arrives at master takes. Even when struggling to develop what he was trying to achieve, Parker sounded tireless, ruthlessly innovative and always in command.
Parker is particularly interesting on Passport, which in the studio on May 5, 1949 and into May 6 was still known as Tune Y and Tune Z. The quintet on this session featured Kenny Dorham (tp), Charlie Parker (as), Al Haig (p), Tommy Potter (b) and Max Roach (d). During the song's evolution, we hear how gingerly the musicians felt their way along until they grew accustomed to the melody's intricacies. You also realize how impossibly difficult Parker's original melody line was—even before he solos.
The Mohawk takes also are engaging. Here, we listen as Dizzy Gillespie struggles to get comfortable with the Parker melody, and Gillespie's errors are the reason for most of the false starts. The Okiedoke takes with Machito and His Afro-Cubans were ahead of their time and remain glorious at the dawn of the mambo craze. As for the minor-key Visa and Segment, I was never a fan, so these repeated takes tend to grate.
I do love the false starts of If I Should Lose You, from Parker's November 1949 session with strings. The same goes for his Star Eyes session of March and April 1950 with Hank Jones (p), Ray Brown (b) and Buddy Rich (d). Rich's brushwork was masterful, especially matching Parker's figures on the now-famous zig-zagging introduction. Blues (Fast) from the same session is perhaps the best example of Parker trying to figure out what he wanted to do in real studio time, though it, too, becomes annoying quickly.
Among my favorites on the new release are the takes for Almost Like Being in Love. I've always loved this song's roaring arrangement by Joe Lippman. Hearing it again in development reminded me of the days just after starting JazzWax, when I'd listen to music and then track down musicians on the sessions for a post the next day. Back in August 2007, after listening to Almost Like Being in Love, I called baritone saxophonist Danny Bank and interviewed him on this big band session and what Parker was like on the date (go here). The Night and Day tracks from the same big band session also are knockouts, with Parker soloing magnificently on top. Amazing to hear the false starts and how sharp the musicians in the band were reading down the arrangement.
Listening to the Unheard Bird tracks, I came to several conclusions. First, Parker was even more gifted than we realize in terms of conceptualizing an idea and working doggedly to realize it. Second, Norman Granz (above) was a taskmaster and had no problem making everyone crazy in his quest for his concept of perfection. He certainly nudged Parker to new levels. And third, even the best jazz players struggled initially to grasp Parker's complex songs, but eventually they figured them out, which only burnishes their flexibility and genius.
The question is whether even the seasoned listener really needs to hear this material more than once. The novelty does run thin, and what remains is a reference for audio research. On the other hand, you do learn quite a bit about the music and Parker by studying his failed visionary efforts. As we discover from this new set, in the case of Parker, even the trash glistened.
Kudos to Harry Weinger at Universal for surfacing these recordings and to Parker historian and archeologist Phil Schapp (above) for his research into this new material. As Phil writes in his liner notes, the recordings were likely made from Granz's 10-inch full-track reel-to-reel tape dubs of 16-inch acetates when Granz was consolidating his labels in the mid-1950s.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Unheard Bird: The Unissued Takes (Verve) here.
JazzWax clip: Here's an alternate take of Tune Z(Passport)...
And here's a series off false starts for Mohawk...
Used with permission by Marc Myers
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