BLP 4220

Horace Silver - The Cape Verdean Blues

Released - January 1966

Recording and Session Information

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, October 1, 1965
Woody Shaw, trumpet; Joe Henderson, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Bob Cranshaw, bass; Roger Humphries, drums.

1661 tk.4 Pretty Eyes
1662 tk.6 The African Queen
1663 tk.16 The Cape Verdean Blues

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, October 22, 1965
Woody Shaw, trumpet; J.J. Johnson, trombone; Joe Henderson, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Bob Cranshaw, bass; Roger Humphries, drums.

1673 tk.7 Nutville
1674 tk.15 Bonita
1675 tk.22 Mo' Joe

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
The Cape Verdean Blues	Horace Silver	October 1 1965
The African Queen	Horace Silver	October 1 1965
Pretty Eyes	Horace Silver	October 1 1965
Side Two
Nutville	Horace Silver	October 1 1965
Bonita	Horace Silver	October 1 1965
Mo' Joe	Joe Henderson	October 1 1965

Liner Notes

“The Cape Verdean Blues” was inspired by three different sources. First, Cape Verdean Portuguese folk music from the Cape Verde Islands, which is where my father comes from. Second, the Brazilian samba beat that I learned when I was in Rio from my good friend and drummer Dom Um Romao. Third, my love for the good old American funky blues. I would like to dedicate this composition to all my Cape Verdean and Brazilian fans and friends, and to all lovers of the good old American funky blues.

“The African Queen" was inspired by some African folk music which I was introduced to by my good friend Pierre Billon from the Ivory Coast, French West Africa. I would like to dedicate this composition to all my African fans and friends.

- Horace Silver

AS these words are written, the most successful year in the history of the Horace Silver Quintet is drawing to a close and a new year is beginning that will bring, among other rewards, the tenth anniversary of Horace’s career as a leader. It hardly seems possible that a full decade can have elapsed since he graduated from his role as pianist with Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers, yet the calendar assures us that the time for that celebration is only months away — a premature Silver jubilee, so to speak.

Not the least remarkable aspect of this ten-year track record is that Silver will have spent the entire time with Blue Note Records. The association has been marked at the Blue Note end by consistent care, on the part of Alfred Lion and Francis Wolff, in every phase of production, from recording values to cover art work. Few jazz artists, if any, can claim to have enjoyed so long and happy an era of close harmony with one company.

In assessing the past year as the most successful, I am thinking both in terms of artistic achievement and popular recognition. Fortunately Horace is one of those comparatively rare jazz artists who can claim to have achieved commercial success without any sacrifice of musical integrity. In 1965 he led an admirable group and wrote some of his most attractive compositions. Among them, of course, was the title tune of his last album, Song for My Father.

Followers of the Silver trail may not be aware of it, since they do not read the trade papers, but Song For My Father was a remarkable commercial hit. Not only did the album remain on the best seller charts for many weeks, but the single sold unusually well for a jazz single, and the album was also named by Down Beat readers among the five top LPs of the year.

Small wonder that Horace recently was in a mood for celebration. His formula for rejoicing took the shape of a special guest star added to the latest Silver session.

“I‘ve always wanted to use J.J. Johnson on one of my dates,” says Horace. “but somehow it usually seemed that one or the other of us was out of town, or for some other reason we couldn't get together.”

In addition to J.J., who is heard on the second side of this album, there are two other personnel changes since Song for My Father. Trumpeter Carmell Jones left the band to free-lance; at last report he was in Europe, and coincidentally it was in Paris that Horace found Carmell's replacement, Woody Shaw.

“Woody was on the continent with Eric Dolphy shortly before Eric passed away,” says Horace. “While Woody played in Paris at the Chat Qui Peche with Larry Young, I called him and guaranteed him three weeks’ work with us in the States, enough to justify his traveling home. That was about seven months ago, and has been with us ever since.”

At the time the present album was made, Horace was in the process of switching bass players, but had not yet definitely settled on anyone for this spot. He therefore decided to call in an old pro, Bob Cranshaw, whose dependable work has been heard in literally dozens of hard-swinging combos on records and around New York. (The permanent bass assignment later went to Larry Ridley.)

Heard in the Song for My Father album were the two other aide-men. Joe Henderson, 29, of Lima, Ohio, and the 21-year-old Roger Humphries from Pittsburgh, both of whom seem to have settled into a solid groove with the Quintet and are now established components of its over-all personality.

Of the six compositions introduced on these sides (five of them Silver originals) each one has its own individual attraction, so much so that it is even more difficult than usual to predict which will turn out to be the one with the greatest popular appeal. However, for reasons that can be deduced from Horace's personal comments on this liner, a likely candidate is the Cape Verdean Blues.

What is unusual about this track is that it is almost impossible to classify. One cannot simply categorize it as latin jazz, nor as calypso music, not as any other one denomination. The three sources noted by Horace are amalgamated in a charming fashion that gives the melody a fey, almost dainty air along with an aggressive rhythmic nature.

It's interesting to note the alternation of phrases during Horace’s solo, which suggests a sort of call-and-response between the right and left bands. Horace maintains the intensity as Joe Henderson takes a remarkable solo. The singular manner in which he articulates, the use of short phrases, and the skill in which he builds are worthy of note.

The African Queen has a stealthy, easy quality, yet never lacks for force of expression. Roger Humphries’ drum fills are such an important part of the opening passages that his work achieves an almost melodic value. Joe Henderson‘s solo, which at first displays a warmth of sound reminiscent of Ben Webster, moves skillfully in and out of the freedom bag.

Woody Shaw's solo offers strong justification of Horace’s enthusiasm. You feel almost immediately that it will not be long before Shaw's solos on records will be immediately recognizable, so potent is the evidence here of the maturing of a new personality.

Horace himself offers a simple and moving solo, in which even the quotes are so well placed and timed that they never seem out of context. After the unison ensemble there is a long repetition of a vamp by the rhythm section, and a delayed ending in which those last few gratuitous notes by Bob Cranshaw suggest that he, along with the rest of the group, was sorry to see it end.

Pretty Eyes comes as a real surprise; it's Horace's first recorded original jazz waltz. “It's not actually the first waltz l have ever played,” Horace reminded me. “In the ‘Horace-Scope’ album I record a waltz called Without You. but it was written by Don Newey." The delay in his decision to come to compositional terms with three-quarter time was not due to any antipathy toward the meter on Horace’s part; it was just that the right melody did not occur to him, and possibly my fellow-Virgo did not feel until now that the time was right. Be that as it may. Pretty Eyes is a beguiling work in E Flat minor, constructed in 16 and 18 bar passages. There is one particularly charming brief interlude where the melody goes into A major and G major. Joe displays his sensitive feeling for the changes and Woody, with a solo that is both lyrical and facile, reminds us of Horace’s tribute to his technique. On this track Horace’s patience (and ours) in the long wait for waltz inspiration is well rewarded.

Although the tracks on the second side are as typical of the Silver sound as those on the first, there Is of course an important difference. For the first time, because of the presence of J.J. Johnson, Horace was able to write for a three-horn ensemble. The instrumentation offered other new opportunities, such as the creation of two-horn backgrounds for solos.

Nutville was so called, says Horace, “because the harmonies in the tune and the voicing sound kinda nutty." The tempo is brisk. Humphries adding considerably to the spirit with a richly dynamic beat. J.J.’s solo needs no comment from me beyond an acknowledgment that the style he originated more than twenty years ago has matured and broadened, and that despite the proliferation of imitators there is still no way of replacing a genuine article, in jazz or any other art. Nutville cooks like crazy from top to bottom.

Bonita, a comparatively uncomplicated melody, opens with a bass figure and, like most of Horace's themes, is in the minor mode. “This is somewhat in the vein of a piece I wrote. years ago,” Horace points out, “a number called Enchantment in the old ‘Song for My Father' album." Though this C minor wail is not a blues in any technical sense, there is something of the aura of the blues about it, especially during Horace‘s solo. Joe Henderson, J.J. and Woody Shaw all capture the groove that has been established by the theme and consolidated by the piano.

Mo' Joe is the latest illustration of Joe Henderson‘s talent as a composer. Like his contribution to the last album (The Kicker) it's simple in form (the traditional 32 bar structure is employed) but tricky in the rhythmic character of its phrases. Says Horace, “The title simply means ‘More Joe' and is not to be confused with ‘I Got My Mojo Working.” Listen particularly for the magnificent blend, in J.J.’s solo, of the four essential elements of all superior jazz improvisation: originality of style, technical control, a personal sound and an endless flow of ideas. Everybody worked on this one: Joe swings with a fine sense of continuity, Woody displays emotional as well as technical maturity, Horace cooks as only Horace can, and Bob Cranshaw walks awhile with a fine, strong sound.

Listening to these sides, one can understand easily why Horace Silver's success pattern has taken him forward uninterruptedly for almost ten years. The Horace Silver Quintet albums are predictable only to the extent that one can foretell their general character. Horace Silver is one composer who is never content to rest on his past achievements or try to take the easy way out by merely imitating earlier successes. Though Song for My Father has enjoyed to broad acceptance that there is even a record out on it by a rock 'n 'roll artist (James Brown), you will not find on either of these new sides a work that sets out to resemble it. What you will find, though, is a characteristically delightful set of Silverware; and this time, at least on those last three tracks, the investor gets extra value for his money, as there are six pieces of Silver in the market place.

“J.J. was wonderful to work with,” says Horace. “He is not only a great musician but a very cooperative person. It was a tremendous kick to have him work with us."

As you might guess, the feeling was mutual. From the almost unknown newcomer Woody Shaw to the long established jazz giant J.J., this album demonstrates how well musicians of different eras can work together, especially when they have a man like Horace Silver as the center of their magnetic field.

- LEONARD FEATHER

RVG CD Reissue Liner Notes

A NEW LOOK AT THE CAPE VERDEAN BLUES

Horace Silver is one of the great craftsmen of jazz history. The proof can be heard in the copious body of originals in which he employs a core melodic vocabulary and basically unchanging quintet instrumentation in the service of personal and group expression. His gift for producing music with an immediately identifiable Horace Silver sound has been disparaged by some, especially those who consider maximum spontaneity and avoidance of repetition among the ultimate jazz values. In part, this attitude grew as a reaction to the big band era, where structure and discipline were unavoidable and solo space was constrained. Silver is a product of the looser, more soloist-focused small- group style that followed, but his approach to writing and leading a band makes him something of a throwback.

Craftsmanship can be viewed as another kind of artistry, however, which Silver demonstrates as clearly as any of his contemporaries. Consider "The African Queen" and "Pretty Eyes" on this album. The descending main phrase of Eyes," which appears after a couple of introductory passages, is similar to that of "Queen," and it would not be surprising to learn that both melodies did in fact emerge from a common thematic kernel. Yet "Queen," with its seductively rolling rhythm is a far different end product than "Eyes," with its rhythmic kick and ominous harmonic climax. What both share is the soulful, evocative Silver fingerprint. There is great integrity in this approach, and in Silver's refusal to simply echo his recent hit "Song for My Father" in constructing this album's title track. Both pieces refer to the Silver family's roots in the Cape Verdean Islands, but where "Song for My Father" was tender and wistful, "The Cape Verdean Blues" is a spry dance piece marked by its affirmative energy. Both, again, are immediately recognizable as the work of Horace Silver.

One characteristic that helped Silver establish this ensemble personality was his longstanding preference for a quintet featuring trumpet and tenor sax. The addition of J.J. Johnson's trombone on the second of this album's two sessions enriches the familiar Silver sound without major alteration, and also adds a fourth potent solo voice. Johnson and Silver were heard together on several important Blue Note recordings in the mid-Fifties, including Johnson's final session for the label (reissued on The Eminent Jay Jay Johnson Volume 2), Kenny Dorham's Afro-Cuban and Sonny Rollins Volume 2, as well as the influential Miles Davis Walkin' on Prestige. The mutual admiration of trombonist and pianist is confirmed by Johnson's very Silverish 1960 composition "In Walked Horace," originally heard in a sextet format but recorded again by Johnson in a big band arrangement shortly after this session. Here, the trombonist fits comfortably into Silver's environment, working as one soloist among equals rather than as featured guest. In the process, he sounds persuasive in a variety of moods and draws great inspiration from the leader's support and the crisp beat of drummer Roger Humphries. Johnson's own albums and the vast majority of his sideman appearances at the time were in orchestral formats, making this album a rare example of Johnson in the '60s revisiting the small-band setting in which he gained his greatest influence and popularity.

Johnson was not the only immortal soloist in the front line of this Silver band. Woody Shaw and Joe Henderson, both promising newcomers at the time, went on to assert significant influence among their fellow trumpet and tenor players. It is tempting to call this front line the most stellar that Silver ever assembled, though it is questionable whether Si Iver himself considered his young soloists the most compatible with the band's established concepts. (In describing his own experience as a Silver sideman in the late '80s, trumpeter Dave Douglas has explained that "I wanted to be Woody Shaw, but Horace wanted me to be Blue Mitchell.") Henderson and Shaw add new and more daring elements most directly on their "African Queen" solos, but never stray completely beyond the compositional boundaries. They were each headed in more freedom-oriented directions, however, and their stays with Silver were relatively brief, with Henderson replaced by Tyrone Washington shortly after this album was completed and Shaw departing after the recording of its sequel, The Jody Grind.

While the compositions here did not reach the level of popularity accorded previous Silver tunes, "Nutville" became a staple of the Buddy Rich band, which at one time also included "The Cape Verdean Blues" in its book. Henderson recorded "Mo' Joe" again on a 1967 Milestone album that took its title from another of his contributions to the Silver quintet, The Kicker.

— Bob Blumenthal, 2003