Delaware County Daily Times
Bill Kagler : 02/12/1960

Sixteen years ago, a 14-year-old pianist was pulled off the bandstand by a mother who thought he was too young to play.

Today, that same pianist has turned to the organ and is now recognized as the best in jazz circles. He’s Jimmy Smith. This weekend, he concludes a stand at the Showboat in Philadelphia.

The slender swinger once revealed, in a conversation with this writer, why he deserted the piano for the organ. His reason augments a familiar beef among jazz musicians today.

“Club owners won’t buy good pianos. If you’re gonna have good artists, you’ve got to have good pianos. If you have had artists, well then…” he commented.

Jimmy, who is married to a school teacher, was born in nearby Norristown. He played his first dance job at 14, but was yanked away from the keyboard by his irate mother. Later, he and his father developed a tap dance-piano routine which netted them two bucks a night. Still later, he began gigging, ofttimes along Chester’s W. 3rd street. Eventually, he began playing organ.

“Discovered” by the Blue Note record people while playing the Cotton Club in Atlantic City in 1955, he’s been making it big ever since.

A rapid-fire conversationalist, Jimmy is a man of firm convictions. He claims he works harder “mentally” in a 40-minute set than a laborer does in eight hours. He doesn’t drink, but enjoys a cigarette between sets. And he ridicules the hipsters who get “junked to death.”

With it all, he radiates an Impatience with audience reaction. “When you play the melody, you keep these people,” he remarked as he gestured toward the ring around the bar. “But when you leave the melody, they’re lost. They all clap, but they don’t know what I’m doing.

“They just applaud ’cause I’m doing it – and I’m supposed to be good.”

Warmed up, he continued: “I’m trying to get across a message. A soul message. You’ve heard of soul, haven’t you?” he quipped as he clutched his heart. “I hope that when I’m done you know what I tried to say. If you didn’t, and you want to, about the only thing you can do is grab another musician and ask him to tell what this or that meant. Better yet, ask me – I’ll tell you.”

Questions means answers. Answers bring understanding. Understanding breeds appreciation. And jazz needs more of that.

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San Bernardino County Sun
Jim Angelo : 01/23/1960

As a jazz instrument the organ has been much neglected. Despite occasional noteworthy performances since the thirties by such organ stylists as Count Basie and the late Fats Waller, the instrument has remained in virtual obscurity. Modern practitioners (among them Les Strand and Shirley Scott) have caused attention to be focused in this area of late. Perhaps the outstanding artist in this category is Jimmy Smith whose contributions are graphically displayed on The Sermon, a blues-based, down-to-earth swinger. The title number takes up an entire side of the LP with soulful testimony coming from tenor saxist Tina Brooks, alto saxist Lou Donaldson, trumpeter Lee Morgan, and guitarist Kenny Burrell. Drummer Art Blakey sparks the bash with his typical driving beat. An original, J. O. S., and a ballad, Flamingo, comprise the remainder of the set.

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Down Beat : 03/03/1960
Don DeMichael : 3 stars

One of the axioms of show business runs something like: “Never give the customers too much; leave them wanting more.”

As trite as this may be, it, nevertheless, is pertinent to this LP, especially the first side, The Sermon. Twenty minutes of blues has to be quite interesting to hold the listener’s attention. Most of the blowing on this side is pretty run of the mill. Tina Brooks takes so many choruses he starts to repeat himself, and most of his solo is hardly worth repeating. To compound matters, the tempo rushes quite noticeably; whether it was Blakey‘s or Smith‘s fault is hard to tell, but they fight most of the way. There is, however, some very good Donaldson and Donaldson on this side.

On J.O.S., Coleman plays a nice solo, although it’s a bit long. His alto work is clean and generally well conceived and stands in marked contrast to the more virile Donaldson’s. Morgan is his usual fiery, witty self in his solo, which is by far the gassiest thing in the album. Smith and McFadden also have some interesting things to say on this track.

The irrepressible Morgan, along with a relaxed Burrell, get some nice things going on Flamingo.

If there had been more blowing of the quality of J.O.S. and less of the windy, putting-in-my-time type of The Sermon this would have been a much more interesting effort.

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Liner Notes by Ira Gitler

It wasn’t until 1956, when pianist Freddie Redd returned from a week in Philadelphia with a mouthful of “something elses” concerning an organist named Jimmy Smith, that my interest in the Hammond and jazz was aroused. Later that year, I had a chance to meet Jimmy and hear him via some home-recorded tapes he had made. Despite the poor quality of the recording, it was obvious to me that Freddie’s words of praise were well founded. Soon after, Alfred Lion heard Jimmy and translated his reaction swiftly into action. As many of you know, Jimmy became a prolific Blue Note recording artist and an acknowledged star.

Mr. Smith has been heard, most often, on Blue Note with his regular trio which consists of Thornel Schwartz or Eddie McFadden on guitar and Donald Bailey at the drums. He has also appeared on this label with guest stars like Lou Donaldson, Hank Mobley, Donald Byrd, Kenny Burrell and Art Blakey. So far Blue Note has issued fourteen LPs under the leadership of Jimmy Smith.

In The Sermon we are treated to performances by both the men in Jimmy’s group and some visiting luminaries. The title number is a tribute by Jimmy to another Blue Note recording leader whom Alfred Lion also saw fit to foster when he was an unknown – Horace Silver. First with his own trio, then with the Messengers of Art Blakey, and in the last two years through his own quintet, Horace has brought about an awareness of the basic, “down home” feeling to the modern jazzman. The word “funk” may have been overworked as a noun in jazz parlance but Horace has used it as a jazz commodity in an ingratiating way.

Jimmy Smith, on the subject of “funk”, is an equally strong advocate. His admiration for the Silver service has inspired this dedication to Horace in the form of The Sermon, a twelve-bar blues which gets into a good groove from the opening beat and stays there until its fade-out at the end of the entire side. No small reason for this is the solid foundation supplied by Art Blakey.

Smith not only carries the theme but furthers the mood-setting by taking the first solo. By the time guitarist Kenny Burrell makes his entrance, things are rocking along nicely, thank you. After Kenny lines out a clear-voiced singing offering, tenorman Tina Brooks steps upon the scene. Tina is the young wailer from the Bronx who made his recording debut on Kenny Burrell’s Blue Lights (BLP 1596/97). Here he takes the longest time of any of the preachers in The Sermon with an effort that shows a wonderful, and personal, sense of time and several miles of soul. From an influence of the early-Fifties Sonny Rollins and Hank Mobley, who also was strongly shaped by the Rollins of that period, Tina has gone his own way. To do this within an already established framework, is, in some senses, as much of an accomplishment as forming a completely new style.

The last two speakers to occupy the pulpit are, like Blakey and Burrell, Blue Note leaders in their own right.

Lee Morgan, along with the men like Donald Byrd and Louis Smith, is carrying on the rich trumpet tradition of Clifford Brown. After rising to prominence in the Dizzy Gillespie band, Lee joined Art Blakey’s Messengers in 1958.

Lou Donaldson’s career has been accurately chronicled on Blue Note, for from his first recording up to and including his most recent, Lou has done his blowing under the Blue Note banner. Here, he offers an exciting solo which builds to a double-timed climax. Then the ensemble riffs a figure that is remembered from Miles Davis’ arrangement of Walkin’ as Morgan punctuates with some well chosen high notes. The spotlight then returns to Smith and Jimmy ushers the proceedings right down the aisle and into the street. This is one sermon that will never make any congregation fall asleep.

J.O.S., signifying James Oscar Smith, is a minor-key, rapid original by Jimmy which brings his regular group to the microphones. Guitarist Eddie McFadden and drummer Donald Bailey (not to be confused with Gerry Mulligan‘s Dave Bailey) join with Jimmy to back guest soloists George Coleman and Lee Morgan. Coleman, a 23 year old reedman out of Memphis and Chicago, has been heard, through 1958, with Max Roach‘s group on alto and tenor. This is not his first outing on Blue Note. (Hear Lee Morgan’s City Lights – BLP 1575). His alto has the swift lead-off solo on J.O.S. Jimmy employs the organ’s ability for varied sounds here as he signals the end of George’s stint by simulating a musical buzzer. He does the same in Morgan’s portion but Lee is cooking so hard, he runs through the insistent stop-tone for another chorus. McFadden and Smith follow with extended solos that for all their flying still maintain a solid connection with the earth.

For the set closer, Burrell and Blakey return and Morgan remains as the only horn soloist. Lee is the main soloist too, as the tempo comes down for a rendition of the beautiful Flamingo. His gorgeous, open horn states the melody at the opening and close of the number, giving way twice to warm Burrell solos. While all of this is going on, Jimmy is laying down a deep-pile carpet to walk on, a perfectly heated pool to swim in, an adequately logged fireplace to lie in front of or what have you.

Whether he is playing his furiously swinging, single-line solos or backing the other soloists, Jimmy Smith is always contributing to the underlying spirit of the entire session. The Sermon is one you to listen to on a sabbath or any and all of the other six days.