BLP 4076

Horace Silver - Doin' The Thing - At The Village Gate

Released - October 1961

Recording and Session Information

"Village Gate", NYC, May 19, 1961
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Gene Taylor, bass; Roy Brooks, drums.

tk.3 Doin' The Thing
tk.4 Filthy McNasty
Cool Eyes (theme)

"Village Gate", NYC, May 20, 1961
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Gene Taylor, bass; Roy Brooks, drums.

tk.17 The Gringo
tk.21 Kiss Me Right

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Filthy McNasty	Horace Silver	19 May 1961
Doin' the Thing	Horace Silver	19 May 1961
Side Two
Kiss Me Right	Horace Silver	20 May 1961
The Gringo/Cool Eyes (Theme)	Horace Silver	20 May 1961

Liner Notes

HORACE SILVER. I don’t mean to drop names. It’s just that my English teacher always told me to get the reader’s attention immediately. Horace Silver is one of the best attention-getters I know. But more of him later.

I remember a time in the 50s when New York jazz devotees were continually bitching about the Jack of clubs where their favorite music could be heard. I remember it well because I was one of the constant complainers.

The people who have just become actively interested in jazz, really have it made. There are so many clubs going that unless you have unlimited time and money, it is almost impossible to keep up with the happenings at all of them. As they say on TV, “For the people who can’t brush after every jazz club... we bring the club to you.” Now you can brush while listening to tie record providing you don’t run the tap water too loudly.

“Live” recording, (to differentiate session taped at clubs from studio dates, although I've never seen dead musicians making albums in the studio) have become very popular in the recent past. Blue Note has been very active in this type of endeavor for a long time. For instance, on February 24, 1954, they went to Birdland (at that time one of the few clubs in which to hear jazz) and recorded Art Blakey with Clifford Brown and Lou Donaldson. That became A Night at Birdland (now on 1521 and 1522). Another important location recording was The Jazz Messengers at The Cafe Bohemia (1507 and 1508). Coincidentally, Horace Silver was the pianist on both dates.

Since that time, Blue Note has recorded Jimmy Smith, Kenny Burrell, Sonny Rollins, Donald Byrd and Stanley Turrentine at such clubs as Smalls’ Paradise, The Five Spot, The Village Vanguard, The Half Note and Minton’s.

An imposing list of artists and clubs to be sure. And therein lies the story. ‘Live” recording does not, in itself, guarantee the excitement and inspiration sought by producers when they undertake a project of this kind. However, choosing the right group and capturing them in their natural habitat, usually leads to jazz of a spirited nature. These “jazz dens” (as they are sometimes called by the Broadway columnist and his sister, the Nitelife editor) are more conducive to getting the rapport flowing between the players and the listeners than any concert hall will ever be. One such place whose name you can add to the clubs mentioned in the last paragraph in the Village Gate or, more precisely, Art D’Lugoff’s Village Gate.

Located at Bleeker and Thompson Streets in Greenwich Village, the Gate is reached by descending a flight of iron steps somewhat reminiscent of a fire-escape. Actually, here, there’s fire down below, fire in the form of exciting entertainment. The chief stoker is the bearded, rotund, benevolent devil named Art D’Lugoff. Art and his brother took an empty basement in the old Mills Hotel and converted it into one of the most diversified nightclubs in the world. The best in jazz and folk music, instrumental and vocal, has been presented there since 1952. It is a large cellar (capacity 650 people), but effective lighting. both on stage and among the tables. leads to a more intimate feeling titan you would think possible. The cuisine is simple but substantial, with corned beef and pastrami sandwiches the specialties of the house.

All of which brings us back to Horace Silver or, more specifically, Horace Silver at the Village Gate. Now, Silver has done a succession of fine albums for Blue Note, but this is the first time his group has recorded under on-the-job conditions. Outstanding among Horace’s many attributes is his ability to communicate deeply and directly to his audience. Perhaps this positive quality is the cumulative effect of all his best traits. Whatever it is, he can ignite his listeners to a level of healthy excitement. The applause that greets the finish of Filthy McNasty is not made by any “jive” audience. These people are genuinely knocked out and they let the group know it. Through the magic of Rudy Van Gelder’s portable equipment, the spirit of the entire set is transmitted to you intact.

McNasty is a new personality in the Silver song & storybook. He may not be “south of the border” like Señor Blues, but he is low-down in his own way. Horace introduces him to the gathering at the Gate as “a mythical young man of rather dubious character.” As the horns tell the funky little tale in an cer-catching manner, Silver tosses in some colorful pianistic adjectives. He continues to rumble and bubble under Mitchell’s sure-fingered solo.

If Junior Cook were to legally pluralize his last name, it would read like the baldest statement of fact. Junior cooks and makes no mistake about it. Like a method actor getting into a role, he literally embodies Filthy McNasty.

After Cook’s solo, leader Silver leaps in for some of his typical, individually-patterned, head shakin’ solo work.

To cries of “more”, the quintet responds with the second of four new Silver originals, a minor blues entitled Doin’ the Thing. Cook comes catapulting out of the up-tempo ensemble choruses to wail again and Mitchell turns on the heat in no uncertain manner. Silver keeps the thermometer up during his solo stint before giving way to a short segment of exchanges between the horns. A Roy Brooks drum solo, bristling with electric energy precedes the final theme.

Kiss Me Right is in a minor groove but it differs in tempo and mood from Doin’ the Thing. Cook and Mitchell are both lyrical without neglecting to swing. That’s something no one in this group ever forgets to do. Silver is in a quoting groove and adroitly works in bits from Joshua Fit de Battle ob Jericho, Bud Powell’s Tempus Fugit and Filthy McNasty. The latter reference does not mean that Horace is repeating himself, merely an example of a theme recurring, quite naturally, in a musician’s mind during the course of an evening’a performance.

Horace describes The Gringo as being “somewhat in the Latin vein”. “Somewhat” is an accurate word, for between the Latin rhythm at the beginning and end, there is driving, slashing, up-tempo 4/4, except for the opening portions of Cook’s and Silver’s solos. Everyone is in spirited form here. Especially stimulating is Brooks. I like to call him “the tearer-upper” or ‘the upsetter”. You’ll know why after hearing his offering here. The ensemble returns after Roy’s solo. Dig the little Spanish flourish at the end.

One chorus of the quintet’s theme, Cool Eyes, serves as a closer to the set. (A complete version of this can be heard in Six Pieces of Silver - 1539).)

After graduating from the Messengers of Art Blakey, Horace Silver started his own group in September 1956. He has led a quintet with increasing success ever since. The current edition has been together longer than most combos operating in contemporary jazz. Cook, Mitchell and Taylor all joined in 1958; Brooks in September of 1959. In a field where most groups resemble transient hotels, this is an admirable record. It explains why these five men relate so wonderfully well to each other and produce a jazz pulse second to none. While each of the five parts of this group is important, their leader is the focal point. his unquenchable spirit, embodied by both his urgent, percussive camping and the insistent, surging patterns of his solos, is the pilot light for a burner that is one of the mot effective cooking units in jazz. It broils, boils, fries, steams and even barbecues with its own built-in, downhome sauce. At the Village Gate, they ‘burn’ on everything, just short of the pastrami and corned beef.

When it comes to “doin’ the thing”, Horace Silver and the group really know how to do it.

—IRA GITLER

Cover Photo by JIM MARSHALL
Recording by RUDY VAN GELDER

Blue Mitchell performs by courtesy of Riverside Records.

Alfred Lion extends special thanks for Art D'Lugoff whose genial cooperation made this recording possible.

RVG CD Reissue Liner Notes[edit]

A NEW LOOK AT DOIN' THE THING — AT THE VILLAGE GATE

It is no surprise that Blue Note recorded the Horace Silver Quintet in a live setting. Given Silver's pivotal role in the success of the two pioneering in-person recording projects that Ira Gitler mentions in his original notes, the only mystery is why the pianist's band was not documented at work sooner. Perhaps Silver himself had deferred until the quintet achieved the stability Gitler mentions, for as Dan Morgenstern noted in his review of this album in the November 1961 Metronome, "the group has a unity of purpose rare in contemporary jazz." Morgenstern also remarked "all hands seem to be having a ball playing for the people." As we can hear, the people responded in kind.

Given the number of Manhattan clubs that had already been visited by Rudy Van Gelder's portable equipment on Blue Note's behalf, it also took the Village Gate longer than might have been expected to receive the in-person treatment. The Gate, one of New York's most venerable nightspots of the 20th century, offered music at its outdoor Terrace Bar and street-level Top of the Gate room as well as in the basement club space. Memphis Slim, Willie Dixon, and Pete Seeger had been the first to record performances at the club in 1960, for Folkways. After the present album and the even more popular Atlantic disc Herbie Mann at the Village Gate (taped in November '61 and including the original "Comin' Home Baby") appeared, the Gate became one of the most popular spots for documenting jazz. John Handy's New View!, Sonny Rollins's Our Man in Jazz, The New Wave in Jazz, and the cast recording of One Mo' Time with trumpeter Jabbo Smith, are among the many memorable titles that emanated from 160 Bleecker Street over the next two decades.

The program selected for this live album typically focuses on newly-minted original material, minus the ballads and oddly-structured chorus forms heard on most Silver albums. If the idea was to keep both players and listeners involved with a greater emphasis on straightforward, visceral material, the strategy worked, for the focus that Morgenstern celebrated can be heard on both sides of the bandstand. As usual, Silver extracts maximum variety while staying within familiar forms, as witness the contrast in moods between the two blues pieces ("Filthy McNasty" and the title track) and the two in minor mode. Of the four originally issued tracks, only the two blues became permanent parts of the band's repertoire, as is confirmed by concert recordings from later in the decade, though "Kiss Me Right" delivers a succinct kick worthy of jazz-standard status. Discographies tell us that the bonus track "It Ain't S'posed to Be Like That" is the only other new composition heard over the two nights of recording, and its initial omission was due to the space limitations of the LP format. The band's theme "Cool Eyes," which is in the mood of Silver's earlier "Room 608," is also heard in an alternate take.

As with so much of Silver's music, the new pieces here seem to have been composed with lyrics in mind, yet only the album's hit, "Filthy McNasty," was to receive the verbal treatment. "Filthy" actually has two sets of lyrics. One set was penned by none other than Ira Gitler for Eddie Jefferson's 1968 Prestige album Body and Soul, and portrays the mythical young man as an urban hustler along the lines of Benny Golson's "Killer Joe." In the version that Silver himself wrote for Dee Dee Bridgewater's 1994 Verve album Love and Peace, Mr. McNasty is transformed from a rather dubious character into a jazz giant whose real identity is not specified. From the clues in the lyrics — playing with Blakey, Roach, Gillespie, and Monk, early breaks from Bud Powell and Miles Davis — it sounds like Silver the lyricist had Sonny Rollins in mind.

The immediate success of this album made the Village Gate a regular stop on the Silver Quintet's always-busy itinerary. They were back less than three months later as part of a triple-bill documented in a Herb Snitzer photo essay that appeared in the same issue of Metronome as Morgenstern's review. The two other featured bands? The newly expanded sextet version of Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers (which appears to have been the lone ensemble taped at the gig — see the Blakey CD reissue Three Blind Mice, Vol. 2) and John Coltrane's sextet, Which at the time included two bassists and Eric Dolphy.

— Bob Blumenthal, 2006