BLP 4154

Grant Green - Idle Moments

Released - January 1965

Recording and Session Information

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, November 4, 1963
Joe Henderson, tenor sax; Bobby Hutcherson, vibes; Duke Pearson, piano; Grant Green, guitar; Bob Cranshaw, bass; Al Harewood, drums.

tk.14 Idle Moments
tk.28 Nomad

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, November 15, 1963
Joe Henderson, tenor sax; Bobby Hutcherson, vibes; Duke Pearson, piano; Grant Green, guitar; Bob Cranshaw, bass; Al Harewood, drums.

tk.36 Django
tk.39 Jean De Fleur

Session Photos

Photos: Francis Wolff

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Idle Moments	Duke Pearson	04 November 1963
Jean De Fleur	Grant Green	15 November 1963
Side Two
Django	John Lewis	15 November 1963
Nomad	Duke Pearson	04 November 1963

Liner Notes

Idle Moments — What does a person usually think of during his idle moments? Does he sit in recollection of past pleasures or disappointments? Or does he sit and daydream of an accomplishment, desire, or goal he wishes someday to finally achieve?

I wonder while listening to this recording, just what the people involved were thinking of while idling away (so to speak). The dreamlike mood that prevails gave me the idea of naming this tune Idle Moments.

It was well past midnight when we came to this tune. Since this was the last number of the session, it was to run for no longer than seven minutes. It was my duty to assign the solo order, and designate the number of ad-lib choruses each of the musicians were to play. I figured that the melody should be played once, then Green for two choruses, and each of the others for one apiece. This I calculated, should run from six-and-a-half, to seven minutes.

The ‘take’ number was announced, and we started recording. The sixteen bar melody that was to be played once, was repeated for thirty-two bars. As Green was finishing his second sixteen-bar chorus, I was getting ready to make my entrance, but he kept playing. I waited for him again at the end of his third sixteen, and took up his pattern, but he repeated once again. Then it dawned on me that since the melody was played twice, thirty-two bars were being considered one full chorus. So when it came my turn to improvise, I too played thirty-two bars, and gave the “high sign” to Joe Henderson.

Henderson took two steps closer in to the microphone, closed his eyes, and warm, beautifully passionate sounds began pouring from his horn.

I was watching Alfred Lion thru the glass that separates the recording room from the control room, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the proceedings. Then he looked at his stop-watch, frowned, looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and continued listening to Joe. But Bobby Hutcherson was yet to follow, and I knew that he was going to play at least thirty-two bars. I started to stop the whole thing right there, but up to this point, there had been no let down, and it didn’t feel like we had gone much over six minutes. But I continued to keep my eyes on Alfred.

When Bobby finished his thirty-two bars I gave the signal to play the out melody only once. Everyone read the signal but Joe, and he almost repeated, but his alertness saved the day.

When it was finally over, I got ready to face Alfred, because I knew we were going to have to make it over. He walked straight to me and asked, “Duke, do you know how long that was?” I answered, “About eight or nine minutes.” He said, “No, it was fifteen minutes, and forty-five seconds, but it was good. However, you’ll have to do it again, but this time make it seven minutes tops.”

So we tried again, and the takes ran from six-and-a-half to seven minutes. But none of them had the feeling of the first one. On that take, Green’s solo was the guiding influence of the entire recording. The enchantment of his creative ingenuity quite influenced the soloists that followed him. And it is highly noticeable too, for there definitely was a feeling of complete relaxation and naturalness. Leader Grant Green was pleased, and so was Alfred Lion. Then it was agreed that this was the take that would be released.

Now this created another problem. The length of Idle Moments meant that one of the earlier numbers had to be done over, and for less than seven minutes. Everyone agreed that it should be Jean de Fleur. So once again I figured the routine, and ascertained that the take would not exceed the time limit. Grant Green is in command here. His proficiency is exemplified in the manner by which he skillfully executes the two ad-lib choruses of this intricate tune. Henderson’s and Hutcherson’s ability to create an enormous amount of excitement in such a short time (one chorus each), reaffirms my confidence in them. Commendable here also, are the fill-ins supplied by drummer Al Harewood in the intro-vamp, and in the fifteenth thru twenty-second measures.

Django, of MJQ origin, is a tune that Green had wanted to record for years, and I’m glad that the opportunity finally presented itself. On this particular track, I would like to give special credits and plaudits to the other two members of the rhythm section, bassist Bob Cranshaw, and drummer Al Harewood. The firmness and consistency of their rhythm provide an excellent foundation for the development of interesting solos.

On Nomad, Joe Henderson makes it evident why he was listed this year among the Down Beat poll winners as one of the tenor saxophone stars deserving wider recognition. And this, with just one year of recording experience behind him. His playing is unique, and very mature for a person his age. Younger still is vibist Bobby Hutcherson, winner of Down Beat’s new star jazz poll. His reputation is growing rapidly, and I’m sure that more will be heard from him. What more can I say for Grant Green? His playing clearly speaks for himself. He’s third in the solo order here, and while he was playing, everyone knew that this was “the take.” Joe Henderson commented later that he had “never heard a guitar sound like that before.”

It is without doubt that Grant Green is one of the most versatile of jazz guitarists. His scope is unlimited to the degree that he cannot easily be “typed.” In this album, he displays an amazing flexibility. From the moody Idle Moments, to the swiftly moving Jean de Fleur, graduating to the “blue-tinged” Django, and finally to the “roving” Nomad, Grant Green is always at home.

—DUKE PEARSON

RVG CD Reissue Liner Notes

A NEW LOOK AT IDLE MOMENTS

The story that pianist Duke Pearson tells in his revealing liner notes provides great insight into Alfred Lion's genius as a producer of jazz recordings. This was not the first instance in which Lion allowed the establishment of a groove to take priority over the usual notions of proper playing time on an album. He »ad given a similar go-ahead from the booth during the taping of Kenny Dorham's tune "Una Mas" seven months earlier, and within two months of this date he would realize one of his greatest commercial triumphs by letting the musicians stretch out on Lee Morgan's "The Sidewinder." Those tracks, and subsequent examples from the '60s like the Joe Henderson tune "Mamacita" (from Kenny Dorham's Trompeta Toccata), were at what might be called booty-shaking tempos. The 15-minute "Idle Moments" captures a more contemplative, after-hours mood, much like the equally lengthy "Blues In Maud's Flat" from a previous Grant Green album, Grantstand.

In spirit, both "Idle Moments" and "Blues In Maud's Flat" harken back two decades to one of Lion's earliest legendary sessions, the Edmond Hall Celeste Quartet recordings featuring Charlie Christian on acoustic guitar. The association could not be more fitting, since no guitarist presented a closer approximation of the way Christian blended sophistication and unadulterated soul than Grant Green. Given Green's initial appearance on record in combos with Hammond B-3 organs, and his posthumous elevation as a godfather of acid jazz via the extended electric jams he produced circa 1970, the guitarist's overall musicianship is often overlooked. Yet Green was equally imposing in a trio setting with just bass and drums, fronting an acoustic rhythm section with piano, or in expanded ensembles. As the present program makes clear, he was hardly confined to blues changes and funky vamps. This may have been his most ambitious album in terms of material, with compositions like John Lewis's classic "Django" and his own "Jean de Fleur"; but Green's discography is filled with Sonny Rollins lines, and in a few months he would record George Russell's challenging "Ezz-thetic."

No doubt Lion and Pearson (who had assumed the late Ike Quebec's role at Blue Note as a&r coordinating assistant to Lion and Francis Wolff by this time) had a hand in putting this sextet together. Harewood had worked on two previous Green albums from August 1961, the aforementioned Grantstand and a trio session now known as Standards, and Henderson teamed with the guitarist five months earlier on Am I Blue? Cranshaw was in the midst of establishing himself as Lion's bassist of choice for less experimental sessions, and both Pearson and Henderson were Blue Note leaders and Lion favorites. Bobby Hutcherson's presence would have registered as most surprising to listeners at the time, since his previous Blue Note appearances had been in the more envelope-pushing settings of Jackie McLean's pianoless quintets. Subsequent sessions with Grachan Moncur III and Andrew Hill, and Hutcherson's own label debut Dialogue from 1965, enhanced his standing as an avant-gardist, though like Green Hutcherson was (and remains) an all-around musician who could play anything. His work here is as fitting as it would be a year later on Green's Street Of Dreams, where Larry Young's organ and Elvin Jones's drums make for another unusual and exceptional ensemble.

The initial CD reissue of Idle Moments revealed that three of the four tracks had originally been realized in versions that exceeded 12 minutes, and that a second session had been required to produce performances short enough to allow the album to conform to the limits of 12-inch vinyl. Given the inspired quality of everyone's work and the rare instrumentation, it is a joy to have the two alternate takes, and programming functions on CD players allow for various comparative listening options. Let me suggest that one rewarding approach is simply to sample the album a track at a time, given the length and richness of the selections. Hearing Idle Moments in this way should drive home the point that Alfred Lion, the producer who circumvented established notions of how long a jazz record should be from his first releases, was operating in a similar spirit a quarter-century later. We may celebrate Lion for creating great albums; but one senses his attention was always directed toward the great individual performance. Idle Moments contains four such masterpieces, two of which are played twice.

— Bob Blumenthal, 1999