Zoot Sims

Zoot was twenty-four years old and in Paris with the Benny Goodman band when he slipped into a studio with three of the best musicians on the Continent. Kenny Clarke was in Paris at the time, six years before he would settle there permanently, and Pierre Michelot was the finest bassist in European jazz. Gerry Wiggins, the Los Angeles pianist touring with Goodman, brought a light, swinging touch that suited Zoot's approach perfectly.

The playing is relaxed and confident in the way that only small-group jazz recorded in a single afternoon can be. Zoot's tone is already fully formed: big, warm, slightly breathy on the ballads, with that unmistakable ease in the upper register. He phrases like a singer, never rushing, always landing on the beat with a casual precision that makes everything sound inevitable.

Clarke's brushwork is exquisite throughout, and the rhythm section gives Sims exactly the kind of buoyant, uncluttered support he always thrived on. Four stars for an early document that reveals the mature artist already in place.

Art Blakey on a Zoot Sims date is not the combination you expect, but it works beautifully. Blakey dials back his usual intensity and plays with a loose, propulsive swing that pushes Sims without overwhelming him. The contrast between Blakey's hard-bop instincts and Zoot's cool-school phrasing creates a productive tension that runs through every track.

Harry Biss and Clyde Lombardi form an unassuming rhythm section that stays out of the way when Zoot is building a solo and fills the spaces when he pauses for breath. The repertoire is all standards, played with the kind of direct, no-frills approach that defined the early Prestige catalog: one take, minimal rehearsal, maximum swing.

The tempos are mostly medium, which is where Zoot was always at his best. He could play fast, but he never felt the need to prove it. Four stars for an unpretentious blowing session that delivers exactly what the title promises.

A compilation LP assembling material from two separate quartet sessions recorded a year apart. The earlier date features John Lewis on piano, bringing the same spare, blues-inflected elegance he would refine with the Modern Jazz Quartet. The later session is the Swinging with Zoot band with Biss and Blakey. Together, the two sessions make for a cohesive listen because Zoot himself is the constant, and his sound is unmistakable regardless of context.

The Lewis tracks are slightly more deliberate, with the pianist's careful voicings drawing out a more reflective side of Sims's playing. The Biss/Blakey tracks are looser and more driving. Don Lamond's drumming on the 1950 date has a Woody Herman big-band swing feel that suits the material perfectly.

Four stars for a compilation that works as a single statement despite its split origins. Every track swings, every solo tells a story, and nothing overstays its welcome.

A three-way co-led date that pairs Zoot with fellow Lester Young disciple Brew Moore and guitarist Chuck Wayne. The two tenors have a similar lineage but distinct voices: Sims is warmer and more relaxed, Moore slightly edgier and more angular. Wayne's guitar provides a different texture from the usual piano-led format, and the interplay between the three front-line voices keeps the arrangements fresh.

Harvey Leonard and George Duvivier are steady and supportive, and Ed Shaughnessy's drumming has a crisp swing feel that propels the medium-tempo tracks without getting heavy. The material is a mix of standards and originals, all played with the collegial ease of musicians who speak the same language.

Three stars. It is a pleasant, well-played session that never quite catches fire the way Zoot's best small-group dates do. The co-leadership spreads the solo space thin, and no single player gets enough room to build the kind of extended, storytelling solos that define Sims at his peak.

This is the first great Zoot Sims record. Bob Brookmeyer's valve trombone is the ideal foil for Zoot's tenor: both instruments share a warm, vocal quality, and both players approach improvisation with the same melodic logic. When they trade fours, the conversation has a naturalness that studio sessions rarely achieve. You can hear two musicians listening to each other with genuine pleasure.

Milt Hinton and Gus Johnson are the kind of rhythm section that makes everything sound easy. Hinton's bass lines are rock-solid and swinging, Johnson's brushwork is feather-light, and John Williams comps with an understated elegance that gives the soloists all the space they need. The Dawn label was a minor operation, and this record was overlooked at the time, but it holds up as one of the finest quintet sessions of the mid-fifties.

Five stars. Every track is a small gem, the sound quality is excellent for the era, and the rapport between Sims and Brookmeyer is a joy to hear. This is the record that proved Zoot could carry a full LP as a leader.

The Riverside debut is a revelation. George Handy's arrangements give the quintet a distinctive character: they are tight and inventive without being fussy, creating frameworks that enhance the soloists rather than constraining them. Nick Travis plays with a clean, bright tone that contrasts beautifully with Zoot's darker saxophone sound, and the two share a rhythmic sensibility that makes the ensemble passages sparkle.

Wilbur Ware is one of the most distinctive bassists in jazz history, and his playing here is characteristically bold: big, woody notes placed with an unerring sense of time, occasionally dropping in unexpected harmonic substitutions that give the soloists fresh angles to explore. Osie Johnson swings hard at every tempo.

Zoot plays some alto here too, and while his alto work lacks the distinctive gravity of his tenor, it reveals a different side of his musicianship. Five stars for a record that belongs in any serious collection of 1950s mainstream jazz.

The most famous partnership in Zoot's career, and one of the great two-tenor pairings in jazz. Al Cohn and Zoot Sims had been friends since their days in the Woody Herman Second Herd, and their musical rapport was so deep that they could finish each other's phrases. On this first co-led studio date, that chemistry is fully audible. They blend, they contrast, they push each other into ideas neither would have found alone.

Mose Allison brings a slightly bluesy, slightly Southern sensibility to the piano chair that distinguishes this rhythm section from the typical New York studio group. Teddy Kotick, a veteran of Charlie Parker's groups, provides the kind of steady, intelligent bass lines that keep everything anchored. Both tenor players double on clarinet, and the clarinet passages have a warmth and informality that adds variety to the program.

Five stars. This is the record to start with if you want to understand what the Cohn-Sims partnership was about: mutual respect, shared language, and an absolute commitment to swinging.