Down Beat : 12/08/1960
Pete Welding : 3 stars

It’s almost inevitable that 27-year-old Red, who here makes his recording debut, will be compared with Sonny Stitt, despite the assertion to the contrary in the liner notes.

There is a certain surface similarity in approach: both have elected to work in the shadow of Charlie Parker, employing his melodic, rhythm and harmonic vocabulary—and, in fact, lifting and restringing whole phrases from the corpus of recorded work Parker left behind.

Yet there is a decided and obvious difference between the two Sonnys. While Stitt may choose to make the Parker idiom his own, one senses in the urgency and inevitability of his playing that he is not merely slavishly imitating the stylistic devices of his mentor but is playing rather out of an utter conviction and belief in Bird’s kind of music. It is as if he has so immersed himself in the Parker approach over the years that in the end he has come to assimilate, as has perhaps no other contemporary jazzman, the conceptions that shaped Parker’s style. Granting this point, it becomes evident that Stitt is no mere copyist, but rather an original and truly creative artist working within one of the most rigorous disciplines in all of jazz.

Not so with Red, however. He merely uses Parker’s mannerisms in his playing without having integrated them into an over-all organic conception. He has not managed to evolve any kind of cohesive, intelligent organization in his solos. It’s as if his sole criterion in the employment of Parker phrases in his improvising is that such and such a phrase fits over this particular chord, this line of Bird’s over this chordal sequence, etc., with no regard as to whether there is any real logical or emotional development in the solo itself.

To be sure, there is a great deal of excitement, muscle, and vigor in Red’s playing, yet without the necessary control and direction, the final result is just so much misspent energy. In a number of cases—and this is especially noticeable in the up-tempo Pocket and Bluesville—Red appears to be just running changes.

On the positive side, Red’s work is characterized by a good deal of rhythmic drive, force, and solid, propulsive swing. His tone is broad and full-bodied. At times, however, he gets a sound amazingly like Parker’s (much closer, in fact, than Stitt has ever been able to get). At several points in his solo on the medium-paced Never Been in Love I was very forcibly reminded of Parker—and it was a most eerie, almost scary, feeling.

All the preceding applies only to the faster tracks. On the four ballads he employs a limp, flaccid tone, which is, I assume, intended to suggest a lyricism that is totally lacking in his improvisations on these numbers.

He plods along stolidly on the ballads, never getting too far away from the melodic line and never once showing any real spark of originality. On Stay as Sweet, which might be taken as typical of the four ballads, Red’s cliché-ridden solo is followed by a discreet, flowing extemporization by Kelly, a model of grace, logic, order, and controlled emotion. Red could learn quite a bit from it—and from Kelly’s work on all the sides, in fact. He is supplied firm, sensitive support by both rhythm sections—and this, coupled with the sustained quality of Kelly’s performance, is responsible for the rating.

In short, Detroiter Red shows a good bit of promise in his initial appearance as a leader. He brings with him a good deal of technical proficiency, fire, and drive in his playing. What is needed, however, is discipline and control.

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Liner Notes by Ira Gitler

When a young jazz musician is presented to the public at large in the role of leader for the first time, he often seems to have come upon the scene from “out of the blue”. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Behind every young musician there is a story of “scuffling”. This “scuffing” has nothing to do with fisticuffs; the only fighting involved is the fight for survival.

If a young player doesn’t come shooting out of a clear blue sky, he does spring from a background of gray ones. To leave one’s home base and strike out for New York requires a certain amount of fortitude. To remain in the face of discouragement takes a greater amount of courage and a large amount of “soul”. When I use “soul” here, the word bears no reference to the synthetic brand we have heard manufactured on in jazz of late.

The road from Detroit to New York began for Sonny Red (born Junior Sylvester Kyner) on December 17, 1932 in the Motor City. He first studied music at Northern High, where one of his close buddies was pianist Barry Harris, and later at the Community Music School. From his beginning instrument, C-melody sax, he progressed to alto in 1949 and worked in Harris’ combo until 1952. In 1954 Sonny Red switched to tenor for a few months’ work with trombonist Frank Rosolino, returning to the alto with Art Blakey’s group that fall.

In the next few years, he continued to play in the Detroit area, surmounting a siege of lung trouble that threatened to curtail his career. One of his constant playing companions during this period was Curtis Fuller. (An interesting note for astrologers is that two of his closest associates, Fuller and Harris, were both born on December 15.) At this time, the migration of Detroit musicians to New York had begun with the departure of Donald Byrd, Paul Chambers and Doug Watkins. In April 1957, Sonny Red and Curtis followed suit in what amounted to a second wave. Both made record dates as side men during the waiting period for union cards in local 802. After the cards arrived, musical engagements were not plentiful. Things were not easy for Fuller, by any means, but as trombonists are not in as great abundance as alto men, he started to work more frequently. Then, too, he had himself more musically “together” than Sonny Red. The fierce competition in New York had Red stymied.

When Red’s father died in August of 1958, he returned to Detroit. The first part of 1959 found him in such Far Northwestern places as Seattle, Washington, Vancouver, B.C. and Edmonton, Alberta. Leaving Canada, he returned to New York in June, this time more determined than ever to stay. “Even if I have to eat the bricks”, was the way Red put it. Outside of a few Monday nights at Birdland, it was a situation of occasional gigs for sustenance and sitting in for further experience and the love of playing. One of these nights occurred at the Show Place in December 1959 and coincided with a visit to that jazz club on 4th Street in Greenwich Village by Alfred Lion of Blue Note. Al liked what he heard and the evidence of his reaction is tangibly displayed by the existence of this album.

The reason for Lion’s favorable reaction is contained within. Sonny Red is an assured player now. In his words, “I’m headed in the right direction. I want to get my own prism. Music is how you feel it; it should be natural. I played a lot of blues here because that’s the way I was feeling when I made the date.”

When I first heard Sonny Red he had a stylistic affinity for early Sonny Stitt. Now the similarity is far less pronounced although Red says, unequivocally, “Sonny Stitt is the greatest living alto saxophonist.” He also counts Bird, Lou Donaldson, Jackie McLean, Coltrane, Rollins and Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis among his favorites. If you don’t find any direct influence from the three tenor men on the list, don’t be surprised. As for the alto men, Bird is not attempted by Red, only implied and acknowledged. I do hear traces, however ephemeral, of Lou Donaldson (at times on the ballads) and Davey Schildkraut (parts of the solo on Alone Too Long). This is not unusual because these are players with whom Red has had contact in New York and a musician’s expression is a result of his total experience. The fact is that Sonny Red has got his own prism. That he has achieved it in one particular area of modern jazz underlines his sincerity as a jazz musician.

This album consists of material from two different sessions. Pianist Wynton Kelly, a sympathetic accompanist and complementary soloist, whose recent playing has been with Miles Davis, is present on all the numbers. The rest of the rhythm section for the first six tracks consists of the highly dependable Sam Jones of the Cannonball Adderley group and Roy Brooks, the youthful drummer who stepped comfortably into fellow Detroiter Louis Hayes’ shoes with Horace Silver’s quintet in 1959. On the last two tracks, The Lope and Stairway To The Stars, Paul Chambers and Jimmy Cobb join Kelly to make it an all-Miles Davis rhythm section.

The tunes are divided into three categories. There are four blues in varying medium tempos. Blues In The Pocket is one of the worst places to have the blues. Red had just returned from a week-end in Montreal where his gig had not come up to expectations and he was feeling a pain in the wallet. Nadia is for a little girl who is very dear to him. Bluesville explains itself. These three are in a down home, sometimes churchy groove but in Red’s solos, there is never a burlesque of these elements, just a straightforward, humble, heartfelt kind of blues- playing. The Lope (a self-descriptive title) is more modern in theme but also uncomplicated. Kelly, who solos on every track in the album, leads off on The Lope and Blues In The Pocket. Red feels that “the horn shouldn’t play first all the time.” Even Jones, who solos on all four blues, precedes him on Pocket.

The second category contains the ballads, Stay As Sweet As You Are and Stairway To The Stars. Sonny Red cannot be accused of playing overdone material here. He is again simple and direct; sweet but not saccharine.

In Alone Too Long and I’ve Never Been In Love Before, Red again finds ballads that have not been worn out. Here he swings them lightly but firmly, the rhythm section effectively alternating 2/4 with 4/4 in the theme statements. The latter tune, which incidentally gives Brooks a chance to play some fours with the leader, is the high spot of the album for me. Sonny Red as he cruises fluidly along, demonstrates that you don’t have to huff and puff to swing authentically.

I hope this album helps preclude the possibility of Red eating any bricks. After all the dues that he has paid, a more equitable situation would be for the next brick he encounters to contain some gold.