BLP 4112

Dexter Gordon - Go!

Released - November 1962

Recording and Session Information

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, August 27, 1962
Dexter Gordon, tenor sax; Sonny Clark, piano; Butch Warren, bass; Billy Higgins, drums.

tk.3 Three O'Clock In The Morning
tk.4 Second Balcony Jump
tk.6 Where Are You
tk.8 Cheese Cake
tk.12 I Guess I'll Hang My Tears Out To Dry
tk.13 Love For Sale

Session Photos

rehearsal

rehearsal

Photos: Francis Wolff

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Cheese Cake	Dexter Gordon	27 August 1962
I Guess I'll Hang My Tears Out to Dry	Jule Styne, Sammy Cahn	27 August 1962
Second Balcony Jump	Billy Eckstine, Gerald Valentine	27 August 1962
Side Two
Love for Sale	Cole Porter	27 August 1962
Where Are You?	Jimmy McHugh, Harold Adamson	27 August 1962
Three O'Clock in the Morning	Dorothy Terris, Julian Robledo	27 August 1962

Liner Notes

IN May 1961, Dexter Gordon visited New York for the first time in over twelve years. During the week he was there, he recorded two albums for Blue Note, Doin’ Allright and Dexter Calling. These LPs, the main purpose of his visit, were warmly received by all segments of the jazz fraternity.

A year later, he again journeyed from California to New York, this time as a more permanent resident. I use the term "more permanent" because Gordon has not remained in New York constantly. It became a base of operations for playing excursions to Boston, Cope Cod and Rochester, and, at the end of August, his point of embarkation for England and continental Europe.

During the summer, Dexter did play a number of gigs in New York: a weekend at the Coronet; a Monday night at Birdland; an afternoon at the Jazz Gallery; a concert at Town Hall; and various one-nighters and one-afternooners. Everywhere he met with the same reaction — unbridled enthusiasm. He drew the kind of response that you know is not mere hand service. At the Jazz Gallery, I observed this in an audience that included many younger fans — kids who were not just applauding him because he was the fabled Dexter Gordon of the past whom they were supposed to automatically revere. He reached them directly with the expansive emotion in his playing.

Love, warmth and sheer joy ore all present in Gordon’s sound and attack. It con be heard and felt in the tremendous drive of his up tempo work, the width and depth of his ballads, or anywhere in between. All these affirmative qualities are reiterated in this album. There is also evidence of change, harmonically, in the playing of a man who was known for his harmonic awareness back in the mid-forties. This is the kind of record that has you starting again from side one, track one, immediately after you have played both sides in their entirety.

Dexter’s astute choice of a fine rhythm section was not accidental. These three players worked with him several times during the summer of 1962.

Sonny Clark is a real pro. His accompaniment is alive but never intrusive; his solos are articulated with a consistent clarity and contain personal, melodic ideas.

Butch Warren is rapidly establishing himself as one of the best young bassists on the New York scene. His lines swing along with no doubt as to the definition of the notes.

Billy Higgins doesn’t beat the drums; he ploys them like the musical instrument they collectively are, when in the right hands. His cymbal sound is exhilarating; his ear forever alert.

As a unit, Clark, Warren and Higgins have also been heard to advantage in Clark’s Leapin’ And Lopin’ (4091) and Jackie McLean’s A Fickle Sonance (4089).

Go’ gets going with a piece of “Cheese Cake,” a minor-key pattern reminiscent of “Topsy." Dexter soars like a condor over the Andes, with grandeur and great staying power.

His strength is present on “I Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out To Dry,” a seldom-done ballad he wisely revived, but it is strength with tenderness, carried by a beautiful, masculine sound that is neither Hawkins nor Young, but pure Gordon.

Jerry Valentine’s "Second Balcony Jump” was in the libraries of both the Earl Hines and Billy Eckstine bands. Gordon was in the Eckstine band that played it, but it was Gene Ammons (not Gordon, as indicated in the liner notes on on EmArcy LP reissue) who took the solo on the original National recording. The construction of Dexter’s first solo is marvelous and builds to a climax gradually. There’s a semi-quote of Jimmy Heath’s C.T.A. cleverly worked in. Then Clark plays a blithe, flowing solo before Dex comes bock for a second, shorter, but again climoctic summation that leads into part of Valentine’s old arrangement and on abrupt ending.

The Latin backing for the melody statement of “Love For Sale” may not be exactly bossa nova, but the saxophone is certainly “boss” tenor. When the solos commence, the rhythm section shifts into 4/4. Dexter’s playing is as brood-shouldered as he is; Sonny’s piano delicate, yet always on solid ground.

“Where Are You is another lovely ballad that, fortunately, has not been played into the ground. That huge Gordon sound, once described by Michael James as “cavernous,” is again matched by the emotional content of his playing.

The closer “Three O’Clock In The Morning," may seem like a strange piece of material for a modern jazzman to play, but Don Byas and Slam Stewart recorded it in the forties during 52nd Street’s heyday. Dexter begins in a loping 2/4 that slides into 4/4. He injects wry humor with quotes from "Five O’Clock Whistle” and “Take Me Out To The Ball Game” (at three o’clock ¡n the morning?) while blowing forcefully all the time in a substantial medium groove.

Gordon is a great advertisement for live jazz. When he really starts “stretchin’ out" on a number, and his long, firmly anchored legs begin vibrating rapidly from side to side, the intense swing of his music a natural visual counter part. It’s true that you cannot see him in this album but you can feel the impact of his personality as it is poured into his music.

This session was not recorded in a nightclub performance but in its informal symmetry, it matches the relaxed atmosphere that the best of those made in that manner engender. Everyone was really together, in all the most positive meanings of that word. was so good that Blue Note put these four men in the studio again, two days later. We’ll be hearing that one in the near future.

Meanwhile, proceed directly to Go! You won’t collect $200, but you will get a monopoly of Melody Avenue, Swing Street and Inspiration Place.

—IRA GITLER

Cover Design by REID MILES
Photo by FRANCIS WOLFF
Recording by RUDY VAN GELDER

RVG CD Reissue Liner Notes

A NEW LOOK AT GO!

Ira Gitler had no way of knowing when he wrote the original liner notes, but Dexter Gordon had bid New York and the U.S. adieu mere days after recording Go! The European sojourn that Gitler mentions in closing introduced the tenor saxophone giant to a music scene and a lifestyle far more accommodating to jazz musicians (especially those who had run afoul of New York’s “cabaret card” licensing laws) than anything America had to offer at the time. European audiences embraced Gordon with the awe and respect that a player of his stature deserves, and that he did not find Stateside to any substantial degree until his popular triumphs of the late seventies. The tenor saxophonist continued to visit America periodically, returning to Los Angeles to see family and making a few East Coast studio and live appearances, but he would not be based in the Apple again for over 15 years.

When he revisited New York in 1977, after his Columbia album Homecoming had further fueled the word-of-mouth frenzy generated by a few live appearances, I had the opportunity to interview Gordon for a magazine story. We met in his hotel room and talked, then headed to a Village record store where he was scheduled to meet fans and autograph albums. When I mentioned that, forced to choose a single Gordon LP for such purposes, I would select the present session, he smiled and replied in typically laconic fashion, “a classic.”

Michael Cuscuna, Gordon’s producer during the later part of his career, has reported that Go! was also Dexter Gordon’s favorite Dexter Gordon album, and it’s easy to hear why. He is simply at the top of his game, and the rhythm section is right with him. Sonny Clark, Butch Warren and Billy Higgins were one of Blue Note’s most active units at the time, having worked together on two Jackie McLean sessions, a Don Wilkerson album, Clark’s own Leapin’ And Lopin’ and the companion to this date (recorded two days later), Gordon’s A Swing/n’ Affair. They acquit themselves memorably in each instance, whether in the sanctified atmosphere of Wilkerson’s Preach Brother or one step from the edge of freedom during portions of McLean’s A Fickle Sonance; but the muscular swing and heart-on-sleeve passion of Gordon’s music was perhaps their ideal terrain. Clark, who had less than five months to live, sounds as if he had entered a new phase where greater harmonic sophistication complemented his already exceptional swing, soul and melodic clarity; while Higgins established a rapport with Gordon that led to further recorded encounters as well as work together in the film ‘Round Midnight.

Dexter Gordon is the major story here, however, as was clear to everyone who heard the album at the time. This was not just a classic, but an instant classic, a five-star recital that captivated everyone who heard it. It confirmed the suspicion raised by the 1961 Blue Note albums Doin’ Allright and Dexter Calling that, whatever difficulties had kept the saxophonist in obscurity for more than a decade, they did not involve musical lapses. Gordon is not just as commanding here as he had been on his influential Savoy performances of the mid-forties, he proves how visionary his early works had been by sounding totally contemporary in what was basically his original style. The presence, the drama, the harmonic sophistication and the ferocious momentum of his solos merge to form an instantly recognizable personality, which Gordon employs in the creation of improvised solos that tell complete stories. This genius for continuity is nowhere more evident than in “I Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out To Dry” and “Where Are You,” the set’s two stunning ballads; but it can be heard on the faster tracks as well, reinforced by Clark’s sixth sense for sustaining the flow as he moves out of and back into Gordon’s statements. Given the coherence of the tenor solos, it is surprising that they have not provided inspiration to practitioners of vocalese. (Kurt Elling did set words to Gordon’s 1964 “Tanya” solo from the One Flight Up album, which can be heard on Elling’s Blue Note album The Messenger.) A final word regarding quotations might be in order, since they are one of the identifying components of Gordon’s playing. There is no question but that quotes can be a substitute for invention and have the potential to turn as annoying as any cliche; yet when applied as skillfully as Gordon uses them here, they can also be models of rhythmic and harmonic ingenuity. Try his allusion to “Mona Lisa” during “Second Balcony Jump,” or the citation of “Mexican Hat Dance” that throws the second tenor solo on “Love For Sale” into overdrive. Like everything else on Go!, these are evidence of a talent that was truly magisterial.

-Bob Blumenthal, 1999

Blue Note Spotlight - October 2012

http://www.bluenote.com/spotlight/summer-of-62-dexter-gordons-go-and-a-swingin/

Dexter Gordon, the tall tenor saxophonist from Los Angeles whose late-in-life acting role in the movie Round Midnight earned him an Oscar nomination, had a recording career that spanned five decades. From his earliest sessions under his own name in 1943 to his final album, The Other Side of Round Midnight, released in 1986, his fluid, behind-the-beat lines and full, spacious sound are instantly recognizable, and his way with a ballad (he famously recited the lyrics to himself before essaying the tunes) is unparalleled among bop and hard bop players.

Gordon recorded for a variety of labels during his long career (Savoy, Prestige, and Columbia among them), but critics and listeners alike frequently cite his mid ‘60s Blue Note albums as his finest work. This string of 11 studio sessions, beginning in May 1961 and ending almost exactly four years later, in May 1965, yielded a total of nine albums, some of which lay in the vaults for decades. But two of his best records were recorded during a single week in August 1962.

On Monday, August 27, Gordon entered Rudy Van Gelder’s studio in Englewood Cliffs, NJ, accompanied by pianist Sonny Clark, bassist Butch Warren, and drummer Billy Higgins. He’d been there four times already that year: first on May 5, to record for what would become the album Landslide, then again 11 days later, for a Sonny Stitt-led session that yielded very little. On May 28, he was back, recording with Herbie Hancock for the pianist’s album Takin’ Off (which also featured Warren and Higgins), and on June 25, he cut more tracks for Landslide, with a group that included Clark.

This same trio—Clark, Warren and Higgins—had been to Rudy’s place twice in June, backing alto saxophonist Jackie McLean on the 14th and Texas tenor Don Wilkerson on the 18th. Clark, in fact, had been recording quite a bit in 1962, mostly with guitarist Grant Green and tenor saxophonist Ike Quebec. But this was the first time all four of these musicians had been on the same date.

Still, the quartet functioned like a well-oiled machine. The session kicked off with “Three O’Clock in the Morning,” a romping blues that begins with the same eight-note “grandfather clock” figure used to launch the standard “If I Were a Bell.” They took three tries to get it right, but the final version is an uptempo (but not sprinting), exciting performance that showcases Warren and Higgins’ forceful swing every bit as much as Gordon’s and Clark’s complementary, lyrical approaches to their instruments.

The second tune recorded was another romp: Billy Eckstine’s “Second Balcony Jump.” But after that, it was time for Gordon to stretch out on one of his patented ballads, in this case the Sammy Cahn/Jule Styne standard “Where Are You?” Gordon delivers a palpable sense of yearning as the tune slowly unfurls, his understanding of the lyrics allowing him to give his solo an almost Frank Sinatra-esque feel.

The tempo was raised once again after that, as the group recorded “Cheese Cake,” the only Gordon original of the day and the track that would wind up kicking off the album. It makes a terrific fanfare, Warren’s bass launching the group into motion and Higgins going at the kit with power and grace. This was followed by another slow burner, “I Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out to Dry,” and the day concluded with one last hard-swinging blowout, this time a Latin-ized (Higgins is all over that wood block) version of Cole Porter’s “Love for Sale.”

Go, the album that resulted from this exceptional day’s work, is rightly regarded as one of the pinnacles of Dexter Gordon’s career, and indeed one of the jewels of the entire Blue Note catalog. Muscular yet brooding, it’s one of the greatest hard bop albums of all time. Indeed, it’s such a favorite of jazz fans that it tends to overshadow the second album Gordon made with this ensemble, just two days later: A Swingin’ Affair, recorded on August 29, 1962.

A Swingin’ Affair shares its title with a Sinatra album from 1956, and both live up to the description. The Wednesday recording session began with three tunes in a row written by members of the quartet. “McSplivens” and “Soy Califa” were Gordon creations, while “The Backbone” was a Butch Warren composition.

“McSplivens” is a basic hard bop theme, purpose-built as a platform for extended, bluesy soloing. Higgins swings hard, as Warren holds down the bottom and Sonny Clark hammers out powerful, aggressive chords on the piano. Up front, Gordon’s saxophone solo is discursively melodic, but locked into the rhythm; he punctuates the drummer’s phrases with perfectly placed low notes, and hooky, hummable lines of his own.

The second tune recorded that day, Warren’s “The Backbone,” is a bossa nova-ish hard bop groover. The third, “Soy Califa,” explores a more Afro-Cuban rhythm; the title translates to “I Am Caliph,” and the way Gordon dominates the groove, playing in a loose, almost Sonny Rollins-esque style full of hard-hit notes and metallic phrases, you believe him.

With the three originals put away, the band moved on to a trio of standards. The first, “You Stepped Out of a Dream,” is handled in an uptempo, but relaxed manner, everyone swinging with ease and comfort, letting the groove seem to push itself. The day’s work ended with two of Gordon’s patented ballad statements. “Until the Real Thing Comes Along” is an aching, nearly seven-minute exploration of romantic yearning, which includes one of Gordon’s patented quotes, this one from “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” when he comes in after Clark’s piano solo. And the final tune of the day is a hushed, meditative meander through Billie Holiday’s “Don’t Explain,” on which Gordon’s horn is a fuzzy murmur reminiscent of Holiday’s frequent partner, Lester Young, as Higgins brushes the kit almost like he’s dusting it rather than playing it.

This matched set of August ’62 sessions are among Dexter Gordon’s finest artistic statements, showcasing him in a variety of settings (standards, originals, blues, ballads, Latin grooves) and backed by an ace piano trio. And though Go is the better-known album, A Swingin’ Affair is every bit its equal.