BLP 4251

Jack Wilson - Something Personal

Released - October 1967

Recording and Session Information

Annex Studios, Los Angeles, CA, August 9, 1966
Roy Ayers, vibes; Jack Wilson, piano; Ray Brown, bass; Varney Barlow, drums; Jack Tracy, producer.

(tk.3) Serenata
(tk.8) C.F.D.

Annex Studios, Los Angeles, CA, afternoon, August 10, 1966
Roy Ayers, vibes; Jack Wilson, piano; Ray Brown, bass; Varney Barlow, drums; Jack Tracy, producer.

(tk.3) Harbor Freeway 5 P.M.
- Shosh

Annex Studios, Los Angeles, CA, night, August 10, 1966
Roy Ayers, vibes; Jack Wilson, piano; Ray Brown, cello; Charles Williams Jr., bass; Varney Barlow, drums; Jack Tracy, producer.

(tk.11) The Sphinx
(tk.4) Most Unsoulful Woman

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Most Unsoulful Woman	Jack Wilson	August 10 1966
The Sphinx	Ornette Coleman	August 10 1966
Shosh (Blues in F)	Jack Wilson	August 10 1966
Side Two
Serenata	Leroy Anderson	August 9 1966
Harbor Freeway 5 P.M.	Jack Wilson	August 10 1966
C.F.D.	Jack Wilson	August 9 1966

Liner Notes

THE ideal conditions under which to study the evolution of any artist, be he painter, sculptor, classical musician or jazzman, would involve constant contact with his work, personal discussions to learn as much as possible about his artistic philosophy and ambitions, and an awareness of the aesthetic context in which he is developing.

Obviously it is not always possible to dig as deeply as this into the life and time of every performer. In the case of Jack Wilson I have been comparatively fortunate. Having heard him in a variety of settings during the five years since his arrival in Los Angeles, and having been convinced from the start that this was a compelling new talent, I have watched his progress with the pleasant feeling that everything was turning out as Wilson deserved.

Since this album is his first for Blue Note, the occasion calls for a biographical recapitulation. Born August 3, 1936, in Chicago, he was seven years old when the family moved to Fort Wayne, Ind.

"My father was never a professional musician," he says, "but he played several instruments just for personal kicks; and he was always crazy about Duke, so we had plenty of Ellington records around the house.'

"During the few years after we moved to Fort Wayne, the 'new thing' of those days was happening: bebop came along and turned everyone around. I began studying piano at nine. From 1949-54 I took piano harmony and theory with a fine teacher, Carl Atkinson, at Fort Wayne College of Music.

"Around 1949 the first George Shearing Quintet records came out. I was fascinated by his sound, and the sound of the group on things like I'll Remember April and November Seascape. I spread out a little, playing baritone saxophone in the high school band, and starting to gig locally with my own little group. I was just under 15 when I became the youngest member of the Fort Wayne Musicians' Union."

At the age of 17 Jack subbed for a couple of weeks in James Moody's band. His musicianship continued to improve during a year and a half spent at the University of Indiana, where he was introduced to a jazz clique of promising youngsters, among them Slide Hampton, Jerry Coker, Dave Baker, Al Kiger and Freddie Hubbard.

After leaving college and working around Fort Wayne, Jack moved on to Columbus, Ohio where he worked with such then-unknown local artists as Roland Kirk and Nancy Wilson. A year in Columbus was followed by a summer as leader of the Cotton Club house band in Atlantic City. It was there that the late Dinah Washington heard and hired him—"an unforgettable experience. I stayed with Dinah a year, then settled in Chicago in 1958." The following year, working for bassist Richard Davis as a sideman, he made his record debut; and on the same day he received his draft notice.

In the Army, Jack won a talent contest and was appointed music director for the Third Army Area. During this period he played tenor sax in an Army band. Released from the service in 1961, he soon rejoined Miss Washington. The following year, visiting Hollywood for a record date, he observed that this was where the best opportunities presented themselves.

As befits a musician reluctant to stay in one limited bag, Jack has worked in a great variety of settings. A sensitive accompanist, he has played piano for dozens of leading singers, among them Lorez Alexandria, Sammy Davis, Eartha Kitt, Julie London, Lou Rawls, Sarah Vaughan and even Sonny and Cher.

At the risk of giving these notes the appearance of a telephone directory I'd like to add a partial list Jack gave me of the combos and bands he has worked for, since it offers an enlightening picture of the kind of well-rounded experience essential to a complete musician:

Gene Ammons, Curtis Amy, Charlie Barnet, Bobby Brookmeyer, Buddy Collette, Lou Donaldson, Harry Edison, Gil Fuller, Bennie Green, Johnny Griffin, Bill Jennings, Philly Joe Jones, Harold Land, Shelly Manne, Howard McGhee, Jackie McLean, Hank Mobley, Howard Rumsey, Sonny Stitt, Clark Terry, Gerald Wilson. Impressive? Yes — and, more important, instructive.

Though his best work, of course, is displayed with his own quartet, Jack has devoted a substantial portion of his time in the past couple of years to studio calls for movie and TV sound-track work, as pianist, composer and frequently as organist. He took up organ in 1956 after hearing Jimmy Smith. "It's been invaluable to me," he says. "Lately about 80% of my soundtrack work has been on organ."

In 1965 Jack began gigging as a quartet leader, in association with the brilliant vibraphonist Roy Ayers. Though on tour with Herbie Mann in recent months, Ayers, a 26-year-old Angeleno, has worked many mutually stimulating gigs with Jack. The drummer on most of these jobs has been Varney Barlow. "Varney is one of the best young drummers around," says Jack. "He's only been playing about four years; he came to Los Angeles from Jacksonville, Fla and he's been making rapid headway."

Of the bassist with the Wilson Quartet on this very special Blue Note occasion, it would be impossible to say much without becoming redundant; for during the past 20 years just about every laudatory adjective has been applied to Ray Brown, as well as a supply of plaques and trophies plentiful enough to last him a lifetime. Ray moved to Los Angeles in Jan. 1966, after 15 years on tour with Oscar Peterson.

On the title track and The Sphinx, for which Ray switched to cello, the bass was taken over by Buster Williams, best known for his work with Nancy Wilson.

"I wrote Most Unsoulful Woman with the late Nicky Hill, the tenor player, in Chicago," Jack recalls. "Those are my fingers inside the piano on that introduction. Ray and Roy and I play together on the theme. It has a ten-bar structure with the eighth bar in 6/4."

The bass part for this haunting tune uses a three-note figure. Looking at the music, I noticed that Jack had written: "Use this pattern all the way, but color it a bit dynamically. " Ray's cello solo (he tunes the instrument like a bass) goes way outside. Unaccustomed as he is to modal playing, his solo is highly imaginative. Jack notes with pride that the tune was written in 1961 — "Sure, we were playing free style in Chicago before it was the general thing to do."

The Sphinx is a witty, unpredictable Ornette Coleman line, seven bars long with the fifth bar in 7/4. An unusual blend was achieved by vibes and cello here. Notice how effectively Ray's solo is backed by the comping, not of Jack, who lays out, but of Roy. Buster Williams' solo maintains the high improvisational level of this track.

Shosh is a blues. Of the title, Jack says: "My little daughter Erica uses this word — she tells me it means toe. Piano and vibes make the main statement here, but the way Ray answers, it sounds like a call-and-response effect in reverse." Jack, Roy and Ray are all featured on this relaxed, relaxing performance, which was put together in the studio to show a more traditional side of Jack's personality.

Serenata, the Leroy Anderson standard, is a tune Jack has always liked. The performance, which involves some passages in two that make for an agreeable change of pace, includes some typically fluent work by Jack, with Roy playing backgrounds before moving in for his own solo.

Harbor Freeway 5 P.M. was recorded in an earlier version under the title Harbor Freeway. "We slowed it down this time," says Jack, "and if you've ever been in L.A. and tried to travel on the Harbor Freeway during the rush hour, you'll know why we changed the title to match the tempo!" The theme, though not a blues, is 12 bars long, with an E minor opening and E major close.

C.F.D. is partially modal, partially based on changes. There is some fast, furious cooking, including some spirited and vigorous choruses of breaks. Varney Barlow and Ray keep the tension up consistently. Roy and Jack have a wild ensemble passage in thirds toward the end, and Varney takes over the spotlight for the final solo.

Jack pays tribute to Ray Brown for the role he played in making this album the success it unquestionably is. "It's hard to describe the feeling you get playing with this man. I've had some of the best bass men around in the quartet at one time or another, but working with him was something else."

Ray has similar praise for Jack as one of the most stimulating pianists he has worked with. What gives Jack much of his strength, it seems to me,' is his controlled eclecticism; that is to say, he has been inspired by everyone from Tatum, Shearing and Horace Silver to Peterson, Hank Jones, Phineas Newborn and some of the most recent modal-oriented pianists; but he has developed out of this a personality, technique and imagination that are strictly his own.

Jack Wilson is a man with a feeling for the past, an ear for the present and a sharp eye on the future. "Eventually," he says, "I hope to be able to divide my year into, say, three months of night clubs, three months writing and playing in the studios, three months working on record dates, and the other three months just taking it easy."

On the strength of his work in this Blue Note premiere I would hazard a guess that Jack may be within a very few years of attaining his goal.

— LEONARD FEATHER