Cannonball Adderley

Another strings album, this time with Bill Russo arranging and Bill Evans on piano. The presence of Evans lifts the proceedings above the earlier And Strings record, his voicings adding harmonic interest that the arrangements alone don't always provide. But the fundamental problem is the same: Cannonball in a setting that smooths his edges rather than sharpening them.

Emmett Berry adds trumpet to a few tracks, and Milt Hinton's bass work is characteristically strong. The material is drawn from the Duke Ellington songbook, which provides better melodic vehicles than the standards on the earlier strings date. "I Got It Bad" is the highlight, Cannonball playing the melody with genuine tenderness before Evans takes a brief, luminous solo.

Pleasant and professionally executed, but Cannonball was days away from recording with Miles Davis, and everything was about to change.

One of the great summit recordings of the late 1950s. Milt Jackson's vibraphone and Cannonball's alto share a fundamental quality: warmth. Both are blues-based, both are melodically inventive, both swing with an ease that makes complicated playing sound natural. Put them together with Art Blakey on drums and the result is exactly what you'd hope for.

Wynton Kelly's comping is the perfect glue, bluesy and rhythmically buoyant, giving both soloists a cushion to land on. "Blues Oriental" is the highlight, a slow burner where Jackson and Adderley trade phrases with the unhurried confidence of two men who know exactly how good they are. Percy Heath's bass walks with the quiet authority that made him the most in-demand bassist in jazz for a decade.

Blakey plays this session with characteristic force but also with surprising restraint, listening more than driving, letting the soloists set the pace. The whole record has a relaxed intensity that never flags across its full length. This is what happens when the right musicians meet the right material on the right day.

An unusual session for Cannonball, expanded from quintet to septet with the addition of David Amram on French horn and Cecil Payne on baritone saxophone. The larger voicings give the arrangements a richer, darker coloring than the standard quintet format, and Kenny Dorham's trumpet is a brighter, more lyrical counterpoint to Cannonball's muscular alto.

Cedar Walton on piano is a revelation here, already showing the rhythmic drive and harmonic sophistication that would make him one of the most recorded pianists of his generation. His comping behind the soloists is impeccable, and his own solos are models of construction. Paul Chambers and Jimmy Cobb (with Philly Joe Jones on some tracks) provide a rhythm section that had been polished to perfection by their work with Miles Davis.

Not as immediately exciting as the standard quintet dates, but the writing is more ambitious and the textures more varied. A record that rewards careful listening.

Recorded in Chicago during a Miles Davis engagement, with Coltrane on tenor saxophone. This is the Miles Davis sextet without Miles, and the absence of the leader creates a different dynamic entirely. Without Miles's spare, directive presence, Cannonball and Coltrane fill the space with longer, more expansive solos. The two saxophones together are extraordinary: Cannonball's alto fat and bluesy, Coltrane's tenor hard and searching, each pushing the other to play harder.

Wynton Kelly's piano is the connective tissue, bridging the gap between Cannonball's blues vocabulary and Coltrane's harmonic explorations with comping that is both supportive and inspiring. Paul Chambers and Jimmy Cobb are the same rhythm section from Kind of Blue, and they play here with the same relaxed authority, never rushing, never dragging, just swinging.

"Limehouse Blues" is a blazing opener, both saxophonists trading ideas at speed with a competitive fire that makes the music crackle. "Stars Fell on Alabama" is the ballad counterweight, Cannonball at his most tender. This is one of the essential documents of the 1959 period, when every jazz musician in New York seemed to be operating at an impossibly high level simultaneously.

A quartet date, no cornet, no second horn, just Cannonball with a piano trio. The absence of Nat Adderley puts the spotlight entirely on the alto, and Cannonball responds with some of his most lyrical and personal playing. Without a front-line partner to trade with, he stretches out, taking longer solos with more development and fewer fireworks.

Wynton Kelly is the ideal pianist for this context, responsive enough to follow Cannonball's blues inflections and inventive enough to offer his own melodic commentary. Percy and Albert Heath on bass and drums respectively provide a lighter rhythmic bed than Sam Jones and Jimmy Cobb, and the overall effect is more intimate than the typical quintet date.

Not the most celebrated Cannonball record, but one of the most revealing. If you want to hear what he could do with space and silence, this is where to find it.

This is where everything changes. Recorded live at the Jazz Workshop in San Francisco, this is the record that turned the Cannonball Adderley Quintet from a well-respected hard bop group into a sensation. Bobby Timmons's "This Here" is the track that did it: a gospel-drenched, hand-clapping soul jazz anthem that became one of the biggest-selling jazz singles of 1959. The audience response on the recording is genuine, and you can hear why. The tune is irresistible.

But the record is far more than one hit. "Spontaneous Combustion" is a furious burner that shows the quintet at full throttle, Cannonball and Nat trading phrases with the telepathic rapport that only siblings can manage. Sam Jones's bass lines are enormous, Louis Hayes drives the band with a fire that never lets up, and Bobby Timmons comps with a funky, rhythmic intensity that defines the soul jazz piano style.

The live recording captures something that studio dates can't: the way this band fed off an audience. The energy builds across the set, each tune hotter than the last, the crowd more engaged, the musicians more inspired. By the final track, everyone in the room knows they're hearing something special.

This is the essential Cannonball Adderley record. If you buy one, buy this one.

The follow-up to San Francisco, and it delivers. Nat Adderley's "Work Song" opens the album and became an instant jazz standard, a melody so simple and so right that it sounds like it has always existed. The descending blues figure that opens the tune is one of the most recognizable phrases in jazz, and the quintet plays it with the loose, swinging authority of a band at the peak of its powers.

Two different pianists split the date across two sessions: Timmons recorded in New York on February 1, Harris in Chicago on March 29. Timmons brings the gospel fire that made the San Francisco record such a hit. Harris brings a different flavor, more bebop, more linear, equally effective. The contrast gives the record a subtle variety that keeps it fresh across multiple listens.

"Dat Dere" is another Bobby Timmons original that became a standard, a playful melody that sounds like a children's song until you listen to the harmonies. Sam Jones and Louis Hayes are by now one of the tightest rhythm teams in jazz, Jones's walking bass lines so solid you could build a house on them, Hayes's drumming crisp and propulsive without ever overpowering the horns.

Two classic albums in a row. The quintet was on a run that wouldn't stop for years.

A one-off all-star session pairing Cannonball with Wes Montgomery, who was in the middle of his own extraordinary run of Riverside recordings. Victor Feldman plays both vibraphone and piano, and Ray Brown on bass ensures the rhythm section swings as hard as any in jazz. The concept is straightforward: put some of the best players in jazz together and let them play.

Wes and Cannonball make a surprisingly natural pair. Montgomery's warm, thumb-picked guitar tone complements Cannonball's alto in ways that a trumpet or trombone couldn't. The textures are softer, the dynamics more nuanced, but the swing is still relentless. "Polka Dots and Moonbeams" is gorgeous, both soloists treating the melody with respect before departing into their own flights.

Not as cohesive as the working quintet recordings, because this is a pickup date rather than a working band. But the level of musicianship is so high that the lack of rehearsal becomes irrelevant. Everyone here is operating at the top of their game.

Another live recording, this time at the Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach, California, and another triumph. Victor Feldman replaces Bobby Timmons on piano, and the change is significant. Feldman's style is more harmonically adventurous and less gospel-oriented, which pushes the group in a slightly different direction. The soul jazz feeling is still there, because that's built into Cannonball's DNA, but the harmonic language is richer.

"Sack o' Woe" is the showstopper, a blues anthem that gets the crowd roaring and the band playing with the kind of abandon that only happens in live performance. Nat Adderley's cornet solo is one of his finest on record, building from a whisper to a shout with perfect pacing. Sam Jones and Louis Hayes are immovable, the rhythm section equivalent of a force of nature.

The West Coast audience is audibly more reserved than the San Francisco crowd, but by the middle of the set they're fully converted. Cannonball's ability to win over a room is one of his most underappreciated qualities. He didn't just play well, he communicated.

The second collaboration with Bill Evans, and it's even better than Portrait of Cannonball. Three years have passed, and both men have grown. Evans has recorded Kind of Blue and Portrait in Jazz. Cannonball has led his quintet through the San Francisco and Lighthouse recordings and emerged as one of the biggest stars in jazz. They meet here as equals, and the music benefits enormously.

Percy Heath and Connie Kay, the MJQ rhythm section, provide an unusually refined rhythmic backdrop. The tempos are moderate, the dynamics subtle, and the improvising is conversational rather than competitive. Evans's left-hand voicings create harmonic worlds that Cannonball explores with a delicacy the quintet records rarely allow. "Who Cares?" is a Gershwin tune played with such naturalness it sounds like an original.

"Waltz for Debby" gives Cannonball a chance to play over one of Evans's most famous compositions, and he treats it with the respect it deserves while still sounding entirely like himself. That's the trick this record pulls off: it doesn't sand down Cannonball's personality to fit Evans's aesthetic, it finds the place where both aesthetics overlap and lives there.

One of the best piano-saxophone duo records of the era, and essential listening for anyone who thinks Cannonball was only about the blues.

Another orchestral project, this time split between two arrangers. Ernie Wilkins handles one side with punchy big-band charts, Bob Brookmeyer takes the other with more subdued, cooler arrangements. Neither is bad, but neither captures what makes Cannonball essential. The title track is a minor hit, an exotic waltz with African percussion that sounds more like a novelty than a statement.

Cannonball plays well throughout, because Cannonball always plays well, but the settings work against his strengths rather than for them. He's a musician who needs a small group's intimacy and interplay to be at his best. Large ensembles turn him into a featured soloist, which is a lesser thing.

Skip this and go straight to the next quintet date.

The "Plus" refers to the addition of Wynton Kelly as a second pianist alongside Victor Feldman, though the two never play simultaneously. The tracks alternate between the two pianists, and the contrast is instructive: Feldman more harmonically sophisticated, Kelly more rhythmically driving. Both bring out different qualities in Cannonball's playing.

This is a working-band session with the confidence and cohesion that comes from months on the road. The arrangements are loose enough to allow extended improvisation but structured enough to give the solos shape. Nat Adderley's cornet is increasingly confident, his solos building with the kind of narrative logic that separates good jazz musicians from great ones.

A solid quintet record that sits comfortably in the middle of the Riverside run. Not a peak, but evidence of a band that has found its groove and isn't about to lose it.

A compilation from Mercury's vaults, collecting material recorded in 1957 and 1958 with the original EmArcy quintet lineup. Released in 1961 to capitalize on Cannonball's Riverside success, this sounds like the band it was: Junior Mance, Sam Jones, Jimmy Cobb, Nat Adderley, the EmArcy-era group before Bobby Timmons and Louis Hayes transformed the sound.

The playing is strong and the material is good, though there are no tracks here that match the best of the Riverside dates. What you hear is a band that was very good and about to become great. Junior Mance's piano is funkier than his reputation suggests, and Jimmy Cobb's drumming has the unshakable time that would serve Miles Davis so well on Kind of Blue.

For fans only, but the playing is never less than excellent.

Nancy Wilson was twenty-four years old when she walked into the studio with the Cannonball Adderley Quintet and recorded one of the finest vocal jazz albums of the 1960s. The pairing is inspired: Wilson's voice has the same warmth and blues feeling as Cannonball's alto, the same ability to make sophisticated music sound effortless. And Joe Zawinul, making his first appearance with the group on piano, provides a harmonic richness that the arrangements need.

"Save Your Love for Me" became a hit and a standard, Wilson's voice floating over Cannonball's obligato lines with a naturalness that sounds unrehearsed but is actually perfectly crafted. The intimacy between voice and saxophone is remarkable: they breathe together, they phrase together, they finish each other's musical sentences.

This was the beginning of Cannonball's association with Capitol Records, which would dominate the next phase of his career. It was also the introduction of Joe Zawinul, whose presence would transform the quintet's sound over the coming years. The seeds of Mercy, Mercy, Mercy are already here, five years before that record was made.

Essential, and not just for Cannonball fans. This is one of the best vocal-jazz-meets-small-group records ever made.

The quintet becomes a sextet with the addition of Yusef Lateef, and the transformation is dramatic. Lateef doesn't just add a tenor saxophone to the front line; he adds the flute, the oboe, and a worldview that encompasses music from Africa, the Middle East, and Asia alongside the American jazz tradition. The textures this group produces are unlike anything the quintet had managed.

Recorded live at the Village Vanguard, the sextet sounds like a small orchestra. Zawinul's piano is increasingly adventurous, moving away from the straight-ahead hard bop comping of the earlier pianists toward something more harmonically open. Sam Jones and Louis Hayes are the constants, the rhythmic foundation that allows the three horns to explore freely.

"Planet Earth" is the centerpiece, a tune that uses Lateef's flute and oboe to create an atmosphere of exotic mystery before the horns enter with the hard bop vocabulary. The combination shouldn't work, but it does, because everyone involved is listening with complete openness. This is the beginning of the sextet period, which would produce some of the finest music of Cannonball's career.