Rec. Dates : August 2, 1957, August 27, 1957
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Alto Sax : Paul Desmond
Baritone Sax : Gerry Mulligan
Bass : Joe Benjamin
Drums : Dave Bailey
Billboard : 12/12/1957
Spotlight on… selection
The clarity of Paul Desmond‘s alto and the warm intensity of Gerry Mulligan on baritone were never so richly captured as they are on this, their first package together. Desmond and Mulligan counter each other admirably, especially so on the humorous Wintersong. Battle Hymn of the Republican is another clever piece and just a taste of the delights. Set is one that will have appeal for all jazz fans.
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Cashbox : 12/14/1957
The two saxists, Mulligan with his baritone and Desmond with his alto, program seven melodies, six of which are originals. The two musicians receive the able assistance of two of Mulligan’s street band, drummer Dave Bailey, and bassist Joe Benjamin. The numbers include Line for Lyons, Standstill, Battle Hymn of the Republican, and Blues In Time. The pairing of the two top flight musicians will definitely help the waxing saleswise.
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Army Times
Tom Scanlan : 12/07/1957
More swinging baritone sax by Mulligan is to be found on The Gerry Mulligan – Paul Desmond Quartet. Desmond proves again that he is one of the finest and most original of alto men. He seems to be curiously underrated by many, I don’t know why. Perhaps because Brubeck is not “the man” anymore and Desmond works with Brubeck. No piano or guitar on this set, just the two soloists, drums and bass. I miss the piano but it’s a matter of taste.
One of the tunes is called Battle Hymn of the Republican. Liner notes explain: “Guess who titled that? asks Mulligan rhetorically, (pointing to his fellow Stevensonian).” So maybe there’s a hidden political meaning here some place, I dunno. In any event, the tune that’s played is Tea for Two whatever they want to call it.
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High Fidelity
John S. Wilson : February, 1958
[Mulligan‘s] meeting with Desmond is a furiously swinging affair for both these saxophonists (Mulligan on baritone, Desmond on alto) have great quantities of what is currently identified as “soul” and their rhythmic pulse is extremely strong even in the slow, squirming evolution of Body and Soul. Most of this disc rides at a faster tempo, however, and while Mulligan produces some typically strong solos it is Desmond, playing with a more definite, leathery attack than usual, who consistently comes out on top. Throughout there is a fascinating display of sparring and interplay between two highly cultivated jazz minds.
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Miami Herald
Fred Sherman : 04/27/1958
The sounds of jazz come in all shades and temperatures; cool and blue, searing and red, warm and violet.
For the cool and blue, try the Gerry Mulligan-Paul Desmond Quartet. The Mulligan baritone sax and the Desmond alto trade solos on seven tunes that include Line for Lyons, Body and Soul, Battle Hymn of the Republican (both are Adlaites).
Making the rhythm are Mulligan’s Dave Bailey on drums and Joe Benjamin, bass. While it leans heavily to the solo sax lines, the album offers many big blends as the two reeds weave modern musical fabrics. Catch it on Battle Hymn before Mulligan takes off.
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San Francisco Chronicle
Ralph J. Gleason : 12/01/1957
Baritonist Mulligan, altoist Desmond plus rhythm section in some absolutely wonderful, exciting and solidly swinging numbers. This is one of the best ideas in a long time. I can’t think of a time when Desmond has sounded better; perhaps this is his best LP as a swinging soloist. I wouldn’t want to miss this one.
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Down Beat : 01/09/1958
Leonard Feather : 4 stars
As you might expect of any group that features Gerry with a pianoless rhythm section, this unit takes on the personality of a Mulligan quartet. Despite the strong contrast with the Brubeck setting, it seems to me that Paul doesn’t play substantially differently, though he may seem to swing more for those who prefer the simpler background he enjoys here. At all events, the union is a happy one. The interplay between the horns strongly resembles that of Gerry with the various brass men who have teamed with him in the past.
The are a couple of planned unison lines, but arrangement generally is at a minimum. Paul’s best track, it seems to me, is Wintersong, while Gerry is particularly moving in Body and Soul. Since the next-to-last paragraph of the notes, instead of spelling out the facts, obscures them in a feat of dictionary-swallowing, a translation follows: Standstill is based on the change of My Heart Stood Still; Wintersong on These Foolish Things; Battle Hymn on Tea for Two and Fall Out on Let’s Fall in Love.
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Liner Notes by Nat Hentoff
The idea for this multi-linear playground has been bottled, like an amiably desperate jinni, in Paul Desmond‘s mind since 1954 when Gerry Mulligan sat in with the Dave Brubeck quartet at Carnegie Hall, and a Tea for Two resulted that convinced both Desmond and Mulligan that their ways of speaking music had what Gerry terms “a natural affinity.”
Nothing and no one happened by to release the jinni until the summer of 1957 and the American Jazz Festival at Newport. During a quiet time at those assizes, Desmond again suggested the idea of a record date to Mulligan. There still seemed to be too many obstacles for liberation day to be in sight. There was, for one thorn, the matter of which record label would preserve the union. Desmond was affiances, so to speak, to one company and Mulligan preferred others. There were other problems too, and the conversation apparently headed towards inaction.
Norman Granz, who has a collection of bottles from which he has released jinn of this kind (one of them named Ella Fitzgerald) had been a listening bystander at the Desmond-Mulligan colloquy; and a few hours later, offered to do the date himself. He would make a trade with Desmond’s company to indemnify them for the loan of Paul (it is increasingly hard in present-day jazz recording to obtain the loan of a player; it is sometimes easier to borrow Kim Novak); and in general, Granz promised to untangle any other difficulties, present and possible.
In August of 1957, the bottle was opened. Mulligan had flown to California with his quartet to play a jam session album for Granz with Stan Getz, Harry Edison, Louis Bellson, and the Oscar Peterson Trio; and at 2 A.M., after this record date, Mulligan and Desmond met for their first session. “About all we came in with that was planned,” notes Desmond, “was a list of typewritten notes. There were some obvious unison things written, one-chorus lines on two short tunes Gerry wrote, but everything else, including the counterpoint was off-the-cuff.”
Desmond and Mulligan are both dour self-critics, and are especially severe on their recorded work. Both, however, are quite pleased with this session. Desmond’s explanation of his enjoyment in working with Mulligan is succinctly clear: “He just does all the right things.”
“I’m very proud of several things we did on the date,” adds Mulligan, “like sometimes we’re blowing passages in thirds, and they come off. It’s a little alarming. And there are also places where Paul comes through very strongly, much more aggressively than he usually plays with Dave. He gets to swing pretty hard at times here in some contrast to the more flowing and lyrical work he does with Dave.”
As for some of the songs, there is an intimation of a figurative coronary occlusion in Standstill; Wintersong is a litany for more mnemonic foolishness; Battle Hymn of the Republican (“Guess who titled that?” asks Mulligan rhetorically, pointing to his fellow Stevensonian) has at least enough Lapsang Souchong left for Alice and the Mad Hatter; and Fall Out is a hortatory celebration of natural genetics rather than an essay on possible genocide.
The steady, admirably unobtrusive rhythm section are members of Mr. Mulligan’s pianoless street band – drummer Dave Bailey and bassist Joe Benjamin.