Riverside – RLP 12-271
Rec. Dates : May 7, 1958, May 12, 1958
Stream this Album
Flugelhorn : Clark Terry
Piano : Thelonious Monk
Bass : Sam Jones
Drums : Philly Joe Jones
Audio : December, 1958
Charles A. Robertson
Since its adoption as a second horn by various jazz trumpet men, the flugelhorn is turning up in unexpected places, sprouting in the brass sections of big bands to lead a mellow tone on a ballad or appearing at a recording date where its sound, somewhere between a trumpet and a French horn, is in increasing demand. This opening wedge is broadened appreciably on this unusual album, which contrasts sharply with the one Miles Davis made playing the arrangements of Gil Evans with a large orchestra. Clark Terry is intent on deft improvisation and his five originals are constructed with emphasis on a sturdy blues flavor. To show off the possibilities of the instrument, he indulges in a few eccentricities and witty half-valve effects that find a ready response from his piano accompanist, the undaunted Thelonious Monk.
Together they cleave a straight blues-oriented path on One Food in the Gutter, a strong Terry theme with a telling exposition by Monk. He contributes Let’s Cool One, spotlighting drummer Philly Joe Jones on their first meeting at a session, and bassist Sam Jones completes the quartet. A Latin interlude, Moonlight Fiesta, comes from Juan Tizol, a mate of Terry’s in the Ellington band. Sara Cassey wrote Very Near Blue for the date, and there is a sensitive Trust in Me. The fluegelhorn will never replace the trumpet, but after this experience more musicians will be meeting its challenge.
—–
Oakland Tribune
Russ Wilson : 10/19/1958
Clark Terry, the veteran Duke Ellington trumpeter whose Riverside albums are beginning to bring him a measure of the recognition he long has deserved, makes his debut on fluegelhorn in this album. An added attraction is the presence of Thelonious Monk, the new poll winner on piano, along with bassist Sam Jones and drummer Philly Joe Jones. The nine tracks are nicely varied as to content and tempo. Terry plays with excellent feeling and Monk comps well besides contributing some notable solos, as do the Jones boys.
—–
San Francisco Examiner
C.H. Garrigues : 10/26/1958
One of the most interesting developments in jazz during the last year has been the emergence of Thelonious Monk as the dominant pianist of the year – a development which, I suspect, was due less to an improvement in Monk than to the development of a generation of jazzmen capable of playing with him.
Until recently, musicians have praises him, had admired him – and have gone to whatever lengths necessary (with some few exceptions) to keep off the platform with him. (There was, for example, the occasion in 1954 when, on a record date, Miles Davis asked him to “lay out” on Miles’ choruses of Bags Groove; Monk complied and then, in his own chorus, proceeded to cut Miles as thoroughly as one could wish. This is on Prestige 7109, a reissue.)
Early this year a change in the trend could have been noted in Mulligan Meets Monk (Riverside 12-247) where Mulligan went over and did it Monk’s way and produced one of the best records of the year.
Now, just to prove the point, comes a whole new handful of LPs by Monk dominated groups, in which the peculiar genius which is Monk’s shines through the work of the hornmen for perhaps the first time.
Of scarcely less importance is In Orbit in which Monk appears with the Clark Terry Quartet – – with Clark playing a fluegelhorn which succeeds in matching the strange, often dissonant colors of Monk’s piano progressions. (Compare the Monk-Terry effect here with the Monk-Davis piece on Prestige LP 7109).
—–
Down Beat : 11/27/1958
Martin Williams : 4 stars
Terry and Monk (as they write), a relaxed blowing date using five Terry lines mostly on fairly standard chord sequences, one ballad, an “Ellington tune” (Tizol‘s Fiesta), one Monk piece (Cool One) and a mood piece (Very Near) by Sara Cassey. Both men are very individual (but Monk more individual). Both have a sense of humor which is a very important part of their playing (Terry one of fairly open wit; Monk more subtle). Both have a relationship to Ellington (in Terry’s case more than the obvious one of playing with him, in Monk’s even less obvious and very important). Both are masterful percussive players (whatever else each is). And both are mature. There’s not great significance, but there’s hardly a dull moment.
Monk’s playing here is almost a summary of his development (at least as we know it on records) since the mid-’40s. Argentia has an improvisation with surprise twists which are logically integrated and melodically sound. The title piece (a good “head”), Pea-Eye, and Buck’s Business each almost carry us from 1944 through 1958. Take the latter, an up blues, as typical. Monk plays three choruses almost in the fluent, manually dexterous, original style that he was using with Coleman Hawkins on The Street (in ’44). Then the special sense of continuity and form he has apparently developed since shows, and he takes one phrase from the end of his third chorus and develops it by turning it and accenting it in several ways. Introducing a contrasting motif, he accents and modulates it variously, then simplifies it, until he has a crisp chord which ends the solo. He takes, with modifications, basically the same approach on the other two titles, and on Pea-Eye he begins by developing a phrase his own accompaniment had suggested. Trust In Me has one of his uniquely effective accompaniments; he does not use the conventional pecking-out-of-the-rhythm section approach, but makes a separate, but secondary, horn-like polyphonic line in support. In Bud’s Business he picks up and develops some of Terry’s phrases behind him, and in Very Near he chords in deeper compliment to the mood Terry is working it. Then his solo on Cool One is primarily subtly metric-accentual variation on the theme itself, and in Trust he interplays the theme with ideas of his own.
If I show total ignorance by admitting that the fluegelhorn seems to me to make little difference beside a slight one in tone, then I must. If anyone is tempted to pick Terry’s playing to pieces as a series of recurring personal phrases, interpolations, and effects, he will miss the point, because a strong individual attack, a personal and sprightly emotional content, and a spontaneous but easily moving fancy make it a near-triumph of cohesion, and point. He can play, he is saying things, and they are his own things.
Sam Jones has a good solo on Gutter, and Philly Joe (except that Cool One seems a strong choice in mood and tempo for a drum solo and comes off that way) is Philly Joe.
—–
Liner Notes by Ralph J. Gleason
During those long years when trumpeter Clark Terry was buried, first in the brass section of the Count Basie band and then in the brass section of the Duke Ellington band, the jazz critics and the jazz musicians used to continually refer to him as one of the most underrated jazz musicians of the time.
What impressed everyone then – and still does, for that matter – was the pure musicianship of Clark Terry – a delight to be observed. Very few players in jazz’ history have had his versatility; a versatility that maintains such a high standard whenever he appears and in whatever role.
Since his stints with Basie (that was a period, too, with the Basie Sextet, which was much more a showcase for Clark Terry’s talents than was the big band) and with Ellington, Terry has spent his time in the recording and TV studios, with occasional excursions into jazz clubs, jazz concert tours and jazz festivals.
This album is a tribute to Clark Terry’s stature, in that it is a very rare example of Thelonious Monk serving as a sideman! Monk, as all other jazzmen, honored Clark Terry for his tremendous ability as a jazz musician. Orrin Keepnews, who recorded the date, recalls that he never saw Monk more cooperative or happier on a recording date.
The admiration was mutual, of course; Terry once paid high tribute to Monk’s pattern of taking chances when he played, likening him to an adventuresome fighter. And this was a venturesome album, with both Monk and Terry refusing to play it safe.
Clark Terry also was one of the first players to realize the potential of the flugelhorn in jazz. “I found it to have a more intimate feeling and sound,” he told Dan Morgenstern once. “You don’t have to use the same vicious attack as on the trumpet… it’s really an extension of one’s own expression.”
No jazz musician is any busier than Terry is today, simply because all jazz musicians share a common problem: there are only 24 hours in anybody’s day. He has been featured on numerous TV shows, especially on the late show from New York and has been flown to Europe to play with Jazz at the Philharmonic and to Monterey to play on the Jazz Festival, in between TV programs.
A composer of the kind of neat jazz tunes musicians like to play, Terry also included (aside from his own numbers – there are five of them) one by Monk and one by and old friend from the Duke Ellington band, Juan Tizol, on this date.
One of the most interesting things about Clark Terry as a soloist is the consistent ability to create diverse moods which he displays in his playing. He can be reflective, sad and deeply blue and he can be joyous, happy and almost comic in his leaps and stunts and bright sound.
For a number of years he played on a very great many of the studio band dates which accompanied Dinah Washington, that great, great singer, and he consistently showed a remarkable ability to fit his music into the mood of her vocal. He’s done the same with many other performers and it is, of course, one of the reasons he was so long with Basie and Ellington. Clark regarded it as attending the “university of Ellingtonia” but it was obvious that the band and Duke regarded him as a musician of exceptional talent.
“Jazz goes through a lot of phases,” Terry said to Dan Morgenstern. “But it always comes back to foot-patting music. I like to hear some of the new things… I don’t mind a cat going way out, as long as he comes back. You shouldn’t close your mind and ears to everything that’s going on… you should at least hear it out.”
As is obvious in this album, Clark Terry has big ears and busy ears. He’s been listening a long time and he’s been making music for others to listen to in turn. With Monk and Philly Joe Jones and Sam Jones, the music on this album give you something to listen to, as well.