Down Beat : 06/22/1961
John S. Wilson : 3 stars

Like the long drum solos that Duke Ellington seems to think are a necessary part of his band’s performances, Gonsalves‘ extended up-tempo solos have always struck me as one of the inexplicable lapses from the standards one expects of Ellington. Since the Crescendo and Diminuendo in Blue furor at Newport, it seems inevitable that Gonsalves must go on grinding his way through these lengthy excursions, but that does not make them any more palatable or interesting.

The fact is, as Gonsalves shows time and again on this disc, that his soloing ideas at middle and up-tempos almost invariably consist of an endless series of whirling loops in naggingly repetitive patterns.

What he also demonstrates in this set is that he has a warm and effective way with ballads. His tone, which is flat and formless in his looping solos, has a soft, dark quality on ballads framed in a breathiness that is not quite as extreme as Ben Webster‘s. His ballads, I Surrender and I Cover, are developed in a style that falls somewhere between Coleman Hawkins and Webster but that has an attractive ligthness that neither of the older men uses. This appears to be Gonsalves’ real metier, and it is unfortunate that Ellington sees fit to waste so much of his time on those long, arid journeys to nowehere.

The set is brightened by the presence of the practically infallible Kelly and by some Adderely solos that have both style and momentum.

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Liner Notes by Orrin Keepnews

Paul Gonsalves is one of those known as an “Ellington musician” — and quite properly so, for he has been a key member of the Duke’s sax section for a full decade. Being a long-time Ellington man is in itself a solid stamp of approval, for that leader has always managed to surround himself with top-level men, and has certainly never tolerated mediocrity for very long. Over the years, Duke’s sidemen have of course often led groups on records. But perhaps the most intriguing fact about this album is the quickly-obvious point that it is a most unusual recording to have been made by an “Ellington musician,” breaking all the ‘rules’ for such dates. For there are no other Ellingtonians, past or present, on hand here, and no tunes associated with the Duke!

Quite deliberately, Gonsalves is “Gettin’ Together” here with some of the best ‘blowing’ musicians available for a free-swinging session that demonstrates Paul’s ability to stand up and take care of business in a very different context from the one he is usually associated with. The tenor man (whose big, round, hearty tone is in sharp contrast to his thin face and quiet manner) can play with the best of them. And this fact has never been a secret to musicians. Thus the kind of men he wanted to have on his album turned out to be delighted at being offered the chance to get with Gonsalves. It is therefore no accident that you find him surrounded by top talent from two of the foremost small groups in jazz today; Wynton Kelly and Jimmy Cobb being two-thirds of Miles Davis’ rhythm section; and Sam Jones and Nat Adderley from the Cannonball Adderley Quintet.

Gonsalves was born in Boston (on July 12, 1920) and raised in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. In the early 1940s he was a prominent member of Sabby Lewis’ Boston band; after Army service, he played with Count Basie and Dizzy Gillespie before joining Ellington in 1950.

Paul wryly notes that most people know of him primarily because of the sensational impact of the 28 (or was it 29?) choruses he played between Crescendo in Blue and Diminuendo in Blue during an Ellington appearance at a Newport Jazz Festival in the late ’50s. But his repertoire here covers a lot more ground than that: beginning with a remarkable soft-swinging version of the standard Yesterday, he moves through a collection of hard-cookers, blues and ballads (displaying an unsuspected and impressive mastery of ballad tempo on I Surrender Dear and I Cover the Waterfront). It is all accomplished in a manner that is sure to be a considerable and pleasant surprise to a lot of people who have previously type-cast Gonsalves as limited to the strictly-Ellington groove.