BLP 4199

Lee Morgan - The Rumproller

Released - January 1966

Recording and Session Information

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, April 21, 1965
Lee Morgan, trumpet; Joe Henderson, tenor sax; Ronnie Mathews, piano; Victor Sproles, bass; Billy Higgins, drums.

1571 tk.2 The Rumproller
1572 tk.3 Desert Moonlight
1573 tk.5 Edda
1574 tk.7 Eclipso
1575 tk.9 The Lady

Session Photos

Photos: Francis Wolff

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
The Rumproller	Andrew Hill	April 21 1965
Desert Moonlight	Lee Morgan	April 21 1965
Side Two
Eclipso	Lee Morgan	April 21 1965
Edda	Wayne Shorter	April 21 1965
The Lady	Rudy Stevenson	April 21 1965

Liner Notes

A YEAR or so ago, when I was assigned to write the liner notes for Lee Morgan's The Sidewinder, I commented that the album marked this brilliant young trumpeter’s return to the studios for Blue Note after a fairly long absence. It was clear that the recordings mode in celebration of that reunion constituted a splendid, hard-driving jazz album. What was far less obvious at the time was that here came a hit — for Lee Morgan, for Blue Note, for all concerned.

For many of us in music it becomes a weekly habit to read the trade papers Billboard and Cash Box. The weekly perusal became a pleasure, and a totally unpredicted one, when suddenly, surrounded by folk singers, rock 'n' roll vocal groups and Hollywood string ensembles, Lee Morgan and The Sidewinder made their appearance in the listings of the country’s best selling albums. As the weeks and months went by, the album shot slowly but surely higher.

The success of The Sidewinder is a reassuringly happy event for good music. In the business end of the music world a number of Monday morning quarterbacks are analyzing and explaining ts success, but actually there is no one answer. All you can say is that the title number had a certain appeal, partly in the tune itself, partly in that unforgettably catchy rhythm section figure that went along with it. (The figure, by the way, has been sedulously imitated, without credit to Mr. Morgan, by some of our less principled second-string second-raters.)

Be that as it may, The Sidewinder kept on winding its way upside that chart. And it wouldn’t surprise me at all to see the same fate befall The Rumproller.

The combo on this new album has the same instrumentation as its illustrious predecessor, and the identical front line — Lee and tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson — as well as the same drummer, the dynamic and dependable Billy Higgins. With the impressive help of Ronnie Mathews at the piano, and with same truly remarkable bass work by Victor Sproles, Lee has himself a group that is, I feel, the equal of any he has yet recorded with.

Sproles, incidentally, is a colleague of Lee’s in the Jazz Messengers, the group Lee rejoined just about the time The Sidewinder was recorded last year (1964). When the record became a hit, there was widespread talk that Lee would follow in the footsteps of other Art Blakey alumni — Horace Silver, Donald Byrd, Jackie McLean, Bobby Timmons et al — by forming his own group. But as these words go to press he is in the second year of his second time around with the Messengers, whom he originally joined in September of 1958.

An odd thing about The Rumproller is that this composition was written by Andrew Hill. Not that it should be considered out of character for any musician who has paid his normal musical dues to be able to write in the language of Basic Blues; it’s just that his present association as one of the most important figures in the jazz “cosa nova”, or new thing or avant-garde, makes Andrew’s role as writer of this funky blues a little unexpected.

As with The Sidewinder, the 12-bar blues is stretched to 24 bars. Again there is a somewhat unexpected harmonic turn toward the end (those wistful changes at the last four measures of each 24). Note Sproles’ important role during the ensemble statement, as well as Billy Higgins’ show of verve and extroversion. Ronnie Mathews’ piano provides a richly chord-textured carpet for Lee Morgan's fluent solo to glide on.

Joe Henderson’s solo achieves great intensity right near the start through the intelligent use of repetition-with-variations. The influence here is close to rhythm-and-blues (and there’s nothing wrong with that -— where, after all, did Ray Charles come from?), as well as the harmonic sensitivity that shows Joe’s equally firm roots in contemporary jazz. After Mathews’ soulful solo there comes a delightful diversion by Sproles — dig that big fat sound, and that wild glissando! The final ensemble leads to a long, slow fade with admirable after-hours piano. When it’s over, you feel as if you’ve spent ten and a half minutes bathing in the blues.

Next comes a fairly bright-paced, minor theme by Lee called Desert Moonlight. Now why didn’t they use this kind of soundtrack music for Lawrence of Arabia? Notice how eloquently and unhesitatingly Lee tells his story on this one - like a speech. maker whose gift of gab is second nature, who never has to hesitate or stop to drink a sip of water, cough, or turn the page. Henderson, too, makes the most of these attractive changes. As for Ronnie Mathews, just choose your term — agility, facility, mobility... whatever it is, with it go swing and just the right dosage of funk.

Eclipso opens with a neat variation of the bossa nova figure, then moves into o sort of pecking calypsoish theme that adds another important item to Lee’s list of composer credits. Sproles sprawls all over the place with those fine sounds, yet never steps awkwardly in anyone else’s path. Joe Henderson comes on as muscular as the cat who sells Granny Goose, and far more convincing. As for Lee, just name it and it’s there — jazz, bossa nova, calypso, soul, humor, blues, all in one brilliantly executed and perfectly wrapped package. Mathews follows in his groove-steps. An ensemble with a bigger, harmonized sound leads into a reprise of the original, quieter thematic statement.

Edda was composed by Wayne Shorter, a longtime fellow-Messenger who left Blakey in the summer of 1964 to join Miles Davis. Technically it’s a fast waltz, but it comes on like a tiger, which is certainly no three-footed animal. Henderson’s amazing control of the horn is especially impressive on this track.

The Lady was written by Rudy Stevenson in memory of Billie Holiday. Stevenson has written material for Mel Torme, Wynton Kelly and Nina Simone, among others, and has recently been working with Miss Simone, playing guitar, alto sax and flute. Mathews’ introduction is followed by a muted, subdued Lee Morgan solo on this poignantly moving ballad. Ronnie’s solo is very melodic and Lee’s closing statement goes into a long, suspenseful a capella cadenza.

The unflagging inspiration and dependability of Lee Morgan’s work, here as on the other albums he has made in recent years, move me to recall an incident that took place once when I was recording a session in which he took part. Lee was delayed in reaching the studio. Assuming he might not get there, I called around and found another trumpet player. The other man was a capable musician, played good blues, and when he read the parts the notes all seemed to be correct, yet somehow it didn’t sound quite right. There was a certain element missing.

Then Lee showed up, took over, and read the same part. The difference was startling. More than ever before the quality of his sound, the delicacy of his phrasing, and the whole level of his control of the horn were brought home to me.

That intangible yet all-important quality is the stamp of greatness in jazz as in all the arts — the thin line that separates not just the men from the boys, but the workman from the artisan, and competence from command. Listen to The Rumproller and you’ll hear the evidence presented again - strong, clear and true, in the style that brought Lee Morgan to the front rank of American jazz.

- LEONARD FEATHER

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

Ronnie Mathews performs by courtesy of Prestige Records.

RVG CD Reissue Liner Notes

A NEW LOOK AT THE RUMPROLLER

If at first you do succeed in the elusive goal of turning an honest jazz performance into a popular hit, the chances are excellent that you will try to repeat your good fortune. So it was for Lee Morgan, which explains the genesis of this album. Morgan's The Sidewinder, recorded in December 1963, surprised everyone when it caught on with the mass public after its release in the following year. Even more surprisingly, it kept gaining popularity through early 1965. The trumpeter had returned to Rudy Van Gelder's studio for Blue Note to lead sessions twice in the interim, recording the sextet albums Search For The New Landin February 1964 and Tom Cat six months later; but neither contained an obvious sequel to the snaky unexpected smash. So the '64 sextets were superceded by this later session, which employs the same quintet format as The Sidewinder and features another groove-oriented title blues.

Much of the charm of a surprise jazz hit like the tune "The Sidewinder" lies in its honest, unplotted feeling. Once a 'conscious effort is made to create the same effect, the results are usually a cut below (cf. "Blind Man, Blind Man," Herbie Hancock's sequel to "Watermelon Man" for a good example). In this case, however, Alfred Lion was able to produce both a track and an entire LP that compare extremely favorably with their predecessor. Commercially, both "The Rumproller" and The Rumproller placed a distant second to "The Sidewinder" and The Sidewinder — but bear in mind that the presence of British rock on the Billboard charts, which was already sizeable in 1964, was even more imposing by 1965.

It is interesting to consider how Lion and Morgan approached the creation of a sequel. In the area of personnel, they retained two key players from the earlier hit, tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson and drummer Billy Higgins. This ensured a continuity both of beat and supporting solo fire, in which latter role Henderson had already enjoyed repeated success with his new boss Horace Silver on "Song For My Father. " Putting Ronnie Mathews in the piano chair added a more contemporary voice than Barry Harris brought to The Sidewinder, and indeed Mathews bears the influence of a couple of Lion's favorite young pianists '(McCoy Tyner on the modal waltz "Edda," Herbie Hancock for the more finger-popping "Venus Di Mildew"). Victor Sproles, in the Bob Cranshaw bass chair, was a brilliant choice. Like Cranshaw, Sproles grew up on the Chicago jazz scene, where he appears to have been influenced even more directly by the great Wilbur Ware. A lengthy association with pianist Norman Simmons, both at home in Chicago and touring with Carmen McRae, preceded Sproles's tenure with Art Blakey. The bassist's distinctive sound and energy, captured by Van Gelder in bold relief, add immeasurably to the album's success.

So does the program. It is unique for Morgan's albums of the period, in that it is not comprised substantially or exclusively of the trumpeter's own compositions. Given that Morgan had come into his own as a composer, this probably reflects the short-notice nature of the enterprise, though there are two originals by the leader, the atmospheric "Desert Moonlight" (one of his best) and "Eclipso," a points-South tail shaker for trumpet in the sub-genre that also includes Kenny Dorham's "Una Mas" and Blue Mitchell's "Fungii Mama." Three more tunes are by Blue Note regulars. Andrew Hill contributed "The Rumproller, " a clever blues line despite its formulaic nature, while Morgan's former Jazz Messenger partner Wayne Shorter wrote the heraldic "Edda" for the original LP as well as "Venus Di Mildew," which was omitted due to the time restrictions of vinyl and features a slyly provocative line in what I think of as Shorter's Vee Jay style. When "Venus" did not appear on the original album, Morgan found a home for the tune on Hank Mobley's A Caddy For Daddy eight months later. Guitarist Rudy Stevenson, best remembered for his contributions to the books of Wynton Kelly and Nina Simone, wrote "The Lady," and it is a stunning Billie Holiday tribute that inspires one of Morgan's greatest trumpet solos and some astounding Sproles support.

Even though The Rumproller may have been a disappointment in terms of sales, it happens to be one of Morgan's finest efforts. "Desert Moonlight," "Edda" and "The Lady" in particular can stand up to any of his other great efforts from the period. But then again, Search For The New Land (which appeared in 1966) and Tom Cat (which remained unissued for over a decade) are classics as well. In these years, when Lee Morgan visited the Van Gelder studio, he could do no wrong.

— Bob Blumenthal, 1999