BN-LA-402-H2

Horace Silver

Released - 1975

Recording and Session Information

WOR Studios, NYC, November 23, 1953
Horace Silver, piano; Percy Heath, bass; Art Blakey, drums.

BN534-2 tk.6 Opus De Funk

Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, NJ, May 8, 1957
Art Farmer, trumpet; Hank Mobley, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Teddy Kotick, bass; Louis Hayes, drums.

tk.17 Home Cookin'

Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, NJ, January 31, 1959
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Eugene Taylor, bass; Louis Hayes, drums.

tk.11 Cookin' At The Continental

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, August 30, 1959
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Eugene Taylor, bass; Louis Hayes, drums.

tk.8 Peace

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, July 8, 1960
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Gene Taylor, bass; Roy Brooks, drums.

tk.14 Strollin'

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, July 9, 1960
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Gene Taylor, bass; Roy Brooks, drums.

tk.23 Nica's Dream

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, May 7, 1963
Blue Mitchell, trumpet; Junior Cook, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Gene Taylor, bass; Roy Brooks, drums.

tk.7 Silver's Serenade

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, October 26, 1964
Carmell Jones, trumpet; Joe Henderson, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Teddy Smith, bass; Roger Humphries, drums.

1457 tk.26 Song For My Father

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.

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

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, November 2, 1966
Woody Shaw, trumpet; Tyrone Washington, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Larry Ridley, bass; Roger Humphries, drums.

1781 tk.9 The Jody Grind

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, February 23, 1968
Charles Tolliver, trumpet; Stanley Turrentine, tenor sax; Horace Silver, piano; Bob Cranshaw, bass, electric bass; Mickey Roker, drums.

2049 tk.5 Serenade To A Soul Sister
2050 tk.10 Psychedelic Sally

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, January 10, 1969
Randy Brecker, trumpet, flugelhorn; Bennie Maupin, tenor sax, flute; Horace Silver, piano; John Williams, bass; Billy Cobham, drums.

3394 tk.15 You Gotta Take A Little Love

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Cookin' At The Continental	Horace Silver	January 31 1959
Song For My Father	Horace Silver	October 26 1964
Strollin'	Horace Silver	July 8 1960
The Cape Verdean Blues	Horace Silver	October 1 1965
Side Two
Home Cookin'	Horace Silver	May 8 1957
Nica's Dream	Horace Silver	July 9 1960
Opus De Funk	Horace Silver	November 23 1953
You Gotta Take A Little Love	Horace Silver	January 10 1969
Side Three
Silver's Serenade	Horace Silver	May 7 1963
Serenade To A Soul Sister	Horace Silver	February 23 1968
Psychedelic Sally	Horace Silver	February 23 1968
Side Four
Nutville	Horace Silver	October 22 1965
The Jody Grind	Horace Silver	November 2 1966
Peace	Horace Silver	August 30 1959

Liner Notes

HORACE SILVER

Soul Jazz is what it was called in the late fifties and early sixties; Soul Jazz, Hard Bop and Funk, and each label, despite a superficial kind of accuracy, diminished, rather than described, the music. Following closely behind the high energy creativity of the bop movement, it sometimes seemed too basic, too much concerned with a search for roots and unworthy to follow the soaring passions of the music which had preceded it.

And yet today, with the comfort of a decade of retrospection, Soul Jazz sounds just right for its time — an accurate reflection of the growing black consciousness of the late fifties, a surprising voice of optimism in an of turbulent cultural upheaval, and an attempt to reestablish jazz with its diminishing audience, Heavy demands for what was basically a simple-sounding — deceptively simple-sounding—music? Perhaps, but true, nonetheless, Following hot on the trail of bebop, it helped revive melody at a time when the boppers, now past their creative peak, were producing music that often sounded like technical exhibitionism for-its-own-sake. In contrast, Soul Jazz was a music that joyously shouted its connection with gospel, blues and West Indian rhythms a music that symbolized black pride without proselytizing.

For what the description is worth, the music we tend to call Soul Jazz had no better proponent than Horace Silver. No one understood its elements better or used its special qualities more resourcefully. For Silver, as for all creative artists, the style was not an end, not an artifact to hold in the hand, but a means, a way of breathing energy and spirit into a dynamic art form. The high points of what he did with that style in a recording career that traces back to the early fifties are gathered here in a collection that touches the creative peaks of Soul Jazz.

The thing one notices first of all in Horace Silver's music is its curious blending of the infectious vitality of jazz with a tinge of West Indian melancholy, immediately recalling Jelly Roll Morton's classic remark that all good jazz should have a touch of "Latin" rhythm. The minor key tunes, traced with a poignant blues quality, are, at the same time, bracingly buoyant. Silver classics like "Nica's Dream," "Song For My Father" and "Silver's Serenade" season their azure introspection with a what-the-hell-let's- have-a-ball extrovertism. And, conversely, the cooking Silver masterpieces—"Cookin' at the Continental," "Opus De Funk," "The Jody Grind," etc.—balance their upfront drive with a sprinkling of melodic lyricism.

The music, of course, is inseparable from the man, and the man is the product of a diverse background. Born Horace Ward Martin Tavares Silver in 1928, he learned his urban lessons in his hometown of Norwalk, Connecticut, but the first solid gig came with Stan Getz in 1950-51. By the end of 1951, Silver was a virtual New York regular, working with such heavy names of the time as Art Blakey, Oscar Pettiford, Lester Young (!), Coleman Hawkins (!!) and others. He won the New Star Pianist's Award in Down Beat's 1954 Critics' Poll and has been a dues-paid member of the jazz pantheon ever since.

Unmentioned in these simple biographical facts is the influence of Silver's father (memorialized in Silver's lovely "Song For My Father"), who was born in Portugal's Cape Verdean Islands (also memorialized in another Silver tune, "The Cape Verdean Blues"). Silver recalled that influence to jazz critic Leonard Feather: "Some of the family, including my father and my uncle, used to have musical parties with three or four stringed instruments; my father played violin and guitar. Those were happy, informal sessions." And they were times that produced music spiritually similar, perhaps, to the loose-swinging, free-flowing sounds that soared out of the Silver recording dates.

Several years ago I participated with Horace Silver in, of all things, a television talk show. The program was devoted to the state of jazz in and around New York City, but the host, for all his good intentions, had a knowledge of jazz that was bounded on one side by Stan Kenton and on the other by the Dukes of Dixieland. Yet despite the spaced-out absurdity of some of his questions, Silver always managed to phrase a reply that made the query seem pertinent. Like his music, Silver can be soft-spoken yet to the point, pliant yet sinewy.

At the piano his loose-limbed demeanor tenses into an appearance not unlike what one critic described as an "inverted fish hook." He swarms over the keyboard, popping out low note accents with fingers that pulse with life of their own, smacking each chordal comp with the intensity of a karate chop. And through it all, through all the crisp accents, the music flows with the kind of danceable swing that everyone keeps saying jazz no longer possesses. They're wrong, of course, because Horace Silver's music always has made the foot tap and the body move—even in the very beginning.

He has come a long way from the early fifties (1954, to be exact) when he led a quintet at a date that provided the name for one of jazz's most hardy groups, The Jazz Messengers; the recording was called "Horace Silver and the Jazz Messengers," and also featured the prominent leader of the subsequent installments of the messengers, drummer Art Blakey. In September of 1956 Silver stepped out to form his own group and has been his own man ever since, retaining his powerful musical identity through all the vagaries of avant-garde jazz, rock 'n' roll and rhythm and blues. Personnel has changed over the years, but Silver's instincts for finding and using stellar jazzmen in his groups has remained constant.

The first editions of the Silver quintet included such gifted players as trumpeter Art Farmer, tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley, bassist Teddy Kotick and then-18 year-old drummer Louis Hayes. They were followed over the years by trumpeters Blue Mitchell, Carmell Jones, Woody Shaw, Randy Brecker and Charles Tolliver, by saxophonists Junior Cook, Joe Henderson, Benny Maupin and Stanley Turrentine, and by rhythm sections that included bassists Gene Taylor, Teddy Smith, Bob Cranshaw and John Williams and drummers Roger Humphries, Roy Brooks, Billy Cobham and Mickey Roker; add the names of the numerous other players who have passed through the Silver groups and one has a virtual all-star line up of New York jazz musicians.

The earliest track here, "Opus De Funk," is from a trio date in 1952. The tune quickly became a classic, of course, performed by everything from small jazz groups to Woody Herman's roaring big band. Despite the murkiness of the sound, Silver's briskly propulsive piano style obviously is well established in his head and in his fingers even at this point, when he still was in his early twenties. He clearly was more than just a good young bebopper, and "Opus De Funk" points out his future compositional direction with its mixture of bop articulation and blues-touched melody.

One of the early Silver quintets is heard on "Home Cookin'." The tune is a solid example of what would have been described, at the time, as basic New York funk. Saxophonist Mobley — always under-rated—sounds fine, but solo honors clearly go to the thoughtful trumpeter Art Farmer. Here, as in most of his work, he always seems to have a reason for where and how he places each note; many of his solos sound like aural pointillism—bits and pieces of notes carefully assembled into a picture in which the whole comes shining through the sum of the parts.

Five tracks —"Cookin' at the Continental," "Peace," "Nica's Dream," "Silver Serenade" and "Strollin'" — are devoted to a late-fifties/early sixties Silver group that had included Blue Mitchell and Junior Cook in the front line and Gene Taylor and Louis Hayes (replaced on three tracks by Roy Brooks) in the rhythm section. "Cookin' a brightly moving line, has some marvelous Silver piano; notice his bouncing left hand patterns, especially when he comps behind his own solo. "Peace" is a rare Silver ballad, and "Nica's Dream" is another Silver Jazz classic (again, note Silver's spectacular left hand figures).

"Silver's Serenade" demonstrates that the term "laid-back" was relevant to jazz long before it became a standard phrase in the rock music vocabulary. Another classic, "Strollin' , " reveals Silver's gift for combining a floating, lyrical melody with a brisk, effervescent rhythmic underpinning. Mitchell is especially good here and on the other tracks, playing with a peppery tonguing style that recalls Miles Davis' work from the early fifties.

Tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson is the showcase attraction in the next Silver group, this time from the mid-sixties. "Song For My Father" is, as noted, a tribute, but it also was written shortly after Silver was in Brazil. He was deeply impressed by what he heard there and tried to invest the line with "...the real bossa nova feeling." Henderson plays brilliantly, rambling and rolling around his bottom register with the tenacity of a tomcat on the loose. "Nutville," a bouncy Silver melody, adds J .J. Johnson's trombone for good measure, and one can only express regret that the finances of the time wouldn't permit Silver the luxury of a permanently larger ensemble; he sure knew how to write for three horns. "Cape Verdean Blues," another tribute, cooks lightly over a kind of superimposed 2/2 samba-jazz rhythm. The song's recall of Silver's father's birthplace is both lovely and, in a special way, longing. Listen again for Henderson's swaggering Rollins-ish tenor saxophone.

"The Jody Grind," a 1967 Silver piece, provides a suggestion of how influential his work was — indirectly, to be sure — upon the developing black pop music of the sixties; all the Soul Jazz adjectives apply — funky, down home, tough, hard cooking — and the suspicion persists that Silver's music should have been (and should be) reaching for a larger audience. Can one imagine, for example, the existence of Billy Preston's instrumental hit singles without the prior existence of Silver tunes like "The Jody Grind?"

Two tracks from 1968, "Serenade To A Soul Sister" and "Psychedelic Sally," further underline the wider commercial potential of some of Silver's music. "Sally," in fact, is played with a surprisingly rock-sounding rhythmic feel, but the lines are pure Silver. A new Silver group is brightened by the no-nonsense of tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine. Yet another Silver group, this time including tenor saxophonist Benny Maupin, bassist John Williams and pop stars-to-be trumpeter Randy Brecker and drummer Billy Cobham, dates to 1969. Brecker's tasteful trumpet work and Cobham's sturdy, conservative drumming indicate that their current prominence is no fluke.

I noted earlier that this collection touches the high points of Horace Silver's recording career. It is testimony to his extraordinary talent that such a comment can be made about a set that doesn't include such perennials as "Senor Blues," "The Preacher," "Doodlin'," "Sister Sadie" and others. Call it Soul Jazz, call it Hard Bop or Funk, but the fact is that this body of music, stretching across two decades of vital music-making, represents an oeuvre which, short of Duke Ellington's music, and in its own personal way, rivals any in the long history of jazz. Perhaps the best and most accurate description of it, after all, is Silver Jazz.

DON HECKMAN