Billboard : 11/18/1957
Special Merit Jazz Album

During these performances Monk‘s compositions, always harmoniously arresting, assume the beauty and richness they have suggested in the past. In solo, tenorists C. Hawkins and J. Coltrane, Monk and bassist Wilbur Ware are excellent in that their stints are consistently thoughtful, enhancing the basic value of the music. Try Well, You Needn’t and the Hawkins vehicle Ruby, My Dear as demo-bands.

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American Record Guide
Martin Williams : January, 1958

Monk’s Music gives further evidence of the knowledge Monk has of the musical worth of every note and phrase he writes and plays in the sound way he has expanded scores for the lines of Well, You Needn’t, Off Minor, and Epistrophy for a septet. And so compellingly does his own presence guide his groups that, in a sense, it really doesn’t matter that trumpeter Ray Copeland has a beautiful tone, excellent technique, but may let his lines wander a bit; that alto saxophonist Gigi Gryce (the weakest soloist) has trouble swinging; that tenor saxist John Coltrane‘s is an individual, harmonically provocative, constantly improving, but still undisciplined talent; that Coleman Hawkins is (as he has bene for over thirty years) a master in his idiom and shows it except for a slow start on Epistrophy. Monk himself keeps things fascinatingly alive and in motion. Present on both of these later LPs is bassist Wilbur Ware, a man whose largely unorthodox approach is, I think, potentially revolutionary.

Even in those moments in his own playing when Monk is obviously waiting for something to happen, his refusal to “fake,” doodle or decorate shows how very musical he is. And he involves us with him; he is no “showman” and no “entertainer.” He is what many jazzmen have been called and few have been: Monk is an artist.

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Army Times
Tom Scanlan : 12/07/1957

Members of the Thelonious Monk club will be interested to hear of these two new LPs: Monk’s Music with a septet including Ray Copeland, Gigi Gryce, Coleman Hawkins and Art Blakey, and Mulligan Meets Monk (Riverside 12-247). The liner notes describe the second one as “one of those once-in-a-life-time meetings of giants… in all probability a significant document, a piece of jazz history.” Gerry Mulligan, the most popular of all baritone saxophonists today, and pianist Monk are aided by bassman Wilbur Ware and drummer Shadow Wilson.

These LPs may be for you, but I am not a member of the Thelonious Monk club. By my standards, Monk is an extremely limited musician who can’t play the piano as well as many amateurs, one who has captured the fancy of a small group of hippies (mostly non-musician type) because of musical gimmicks and an intense, apparently never-ending dig-Monk campaign by an influential group of jazz writers and record company men. In Monk’s Music there is repeated dissonance for no apparent reason save shock value. “It’s so bad, man, it’s good, it takes courage to play so many bad notes deliberately,” his club members seem to be saying.

I also believe Monk is not a good enough musician to play an average-type gig. Like, for scale, with a combo at a dance when you don’t know what tunes you’ll have to play or who you’ll be playing with until the job begins. I think his musicianship, his “art,” and all the great praised heaped upon him by jazz critics is highly suspect indeed. What in the world ever happened to piano playing?

Monk and the music he represents is all too much like the preciously subjective “art” of some contemporary painters who can splash on weird and occasionally vivid colors but who have plainly never learned the fundamentals of their trade.

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Audio 
Charles A. Robertson : January, 1958

Maintaining his reputation for the unexpected by a brief preface of an arrangement of Abide with Me for four horns, Thelonious Monk devotes most of the rest of this disc to revised versions of four of his own classics of the ’40s. In this revitalization they are expanded and enriched by the addition of the horns of Ray Copeland, trumpet; Gigi Gryce, alto sax; and the tenor saxes of John Coltrane and Coleman Hawkins, who make Ruby, My Dear, with the encouragement of Monk from the piano, a vivid exercise for his ballad style. In clothing the bare bones of his ideas in Off Minor, Epistrophy, and Well, You Needn’t with a loose-knit seven-piece score, Monk makes them not only more understandable but more palatable. They become less a formula and more of a part of the mainstream of jazz. In his piano solo on Crepescule with Nellie, he examines the hour of surrealism – twilight. Drummer Art Blakey controls his explosive style to fit a mood and Wilbur Ware is on bass. With the minor complaint that the opening 19th Century hymn, by William H. Monk, lasted less than a minute, this record is a valuable expression of the growth of a man and his music.

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Oakland Tribune
Russ Wilson : 12/29/1957

Thelonious Monk, one of the musical rebels who charted the path to modern jazz, leads tenorists John Coltrane, altoist Gigi Gryce, trumpeter Ray Copeland, bassist Wilbur Ware, and drummer Art Blakey through five of Monk’s tunes, among them Off Minor and Well You Needn’t. These are noteworthy solos and ensembles and the overall level is excellent.

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Pittsburgh Courier : 11/16/1957
Harold L. Keith : 4 stars

Twilight is generally associated with peace and quiet and is considered to be the ideal time for reflection upon a day’s work well done.

Most assuredly, Riverside’s latest releases of the master, Thelonious, are deservient of the most reverent listening on the part of jazz devotees. Monk has revived four of his most fabulous numbers which date back to the memorable first time that they were released back in the forties on the Blue Note label in company with Art Blakey.

Well You Needn’t, Ruby My Dear, Off Minor, and Epistrophy are the four revivals concerned. Added to them is Cropescule With Nellie, a powerful commentary upon the aphrodisiacal effects that twilight has upon one who is in the company of his loved one.

The album is kicked off with Abide With Me, a powerful religious classic which is treated with all of the reverence required of this tremendous testimonial of faith.

Ray Copeland‘s trumpet, Gig Gryce on alto, Coleman Hawkins and John Coltrane, tenors, Thelonious on piano, Wilbur Ware, bass, and Blakey round out the personnel of this disc which is an absolute must for all collectors.

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San Bernardino County Sun
Jim Angelo : 01/18/1958

Among modern jazzmen seeking more profound modes of expression is pianist Thelonious Monk. Having been an intern during the birth of bop in the early 40’s, Monk has since achieved his musical PhD – and then some. Though considered by many to be “too far out,” Monk’s Music projects in admirably lucid fashion the moods and emotions of this remarkable musician. Henchmen on this session include Coleman Hawkins and John Coltrane on tenor saxes, Gigi Gryce on alto and Ray Copeland on trumpet. They capture a compelling feeling of spontaneity on Well You Needn’t, Off Minor, Epistrophy, and Crepesecule With Nellie. Here’s a set that really cooks!

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Down Beat : 12/26/1957
Dom Cerulli : 5 stars

Although there are a few moments of relative disorganization on this set, the compelling musical personality of Monk more than makes up for it.

Starting with the less-than-a-minute version of Abide, played by the horn choir, through the final notes of Crepescule, with its old blues feel underlying modern raiment, the album is to date the best cross section of what Monk is doing today with a group.

Hawkins, who can appear in virtually any context and feel musically right at home, appeared lost structurally on two of the tracks. Blakey and Ware propelled him into his solo on Well, You Needn’t. When it seemed that Hawk was looking for a foothold, Blakey fed him a climactic roll, and Ware gave him an ascending line on which to build. Ware earlier performed the same function for Coltrane, who popped in a bit late after Monk’s shouted: “Coltrane, Coltrane.” Ware punched the same note for some eight bars before biting into an ascending line, giving Coltrane’s solo a tremendous rhythmic boost.

On the brittle Epistrophy, Hawk had a false start on his solo during Blakey’s session at the drums, but Art later fed him a clean break on which to start blowing.

Rather than detracting from the performance here, these minor occurrences only heighten the feeling of spontaneity.

Hawk is noble and warm on Ruby, and Monk is moody and firm on Crepescule. Off Minor, a blatant and thoroughly Monk piece, features excellent soloing by Hawk, Copeland, and Monk, with a brief burst of fireworks from Blakey.

Throughout, Monk is the dominant force. The music, whether blown by the horns or rapped out by his hands, is as much a part of him as his thoughts. It is a highly personal music, now brittle and seemingly spastic; now firm and outspoken. But always it is unified in conception and in overall sound.

It is a tribute to Monk that within this intensely personal music, a soloist like Coltrane can develop a singularly personal style of his own, while fitting into the frame of Monk’s reference. Trane’s work on Epistrophy, for example, is about as fine as I’ve heard from him on record. In person, his playing is constantly tense and searching, always a thrilling experience.

This is one to play again and again with no diminution of please, or of discovery.

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Liner Notes by Orrin Keepnews

This is Thelonious Monk‘s music – an album emphasizing fresh versions of some of his most notable compositions, as played with great skill, respect and enthusiasm by top jazz musicians.

Monk, throughout a long struggle for fitting recognition, has at least been fortunate in one important respect: a substantial body of performers has always been aware of the originality, significance and validity of his music and been eager for opportunities to play alongside him. To work with Monk is a challenge, both because of the demands his music makes on players and because he is a unrelenting perfectionist; but this is the sort of challenge that talented and properly self-confident men appreciate and enjoy.

Thus Thelonious has no difficulty in surrounding himself with the best. Of the four horns on this album, the most noted is of course Coleman Hawkins, literally the first jazz saxophone star, who has remained consistently at or near the top for more than three decades. One of the very few to change effectively with changing jazz tides, Hawkins joined with and encouraged modern jazz in the mid-1940s, when most older musicians were busy scorning and misunderstanding it. He remains proud of a band he led on New York’s 52nd Street then, and of its pianist – Thelonious Monk. This LP marks his first reunion with Thelonious in many years, and actually his first real experience with playing Monk’s music. But his rich, deep tones fit the occasion wonderfully well, and so do his superb musicianship and a mind that has never thought in terms of narrow jazz “schools.”

Gigi Gryce, who has led his own group for Riverside, is a gifted young altoist and arranger who has figured importantly in the success of Oscar Pettiford‘s big band. He learned much from a close association with Charlie Parker, but certainly cannot be classed as a mere imitator of Bird. John Coltrane, one of the most impressive of the young tenor men, first came into real prominence with the Miles Davis Quintet in 1956. Just after the present LP was recorded, he became a key member of Monk’s newly-formed quartet. Ray Copeland, known to fellow musicians as a fine technician and inventive soloist, has made concert appearances with Thelonious, who is among the many who consider appearances with Thelonious, who is among the many who consider Ray among the most drastically underrated of current jazzmen. Art Blakey, long a top-rated star and leader of the Jazz Messengers, is one of Monk’s favorite drummers, and has frequently recorded with him. Particularly noteworthy is the ease with which Art adapts his celebrated explosive style to fit Thelonious’ requirements here. Wilbur Ware, who has swiftly gained a reputation as one of the most remarkable bassists to come along in many years, was also a member of Monk’s 1957 quartet.

But, with all due respect to these six considerable talents, a Thelonious Monk album belongs primarily to Thelonious. For many years regarded as an awesome genius, but one whose ideas were too far-out for general consumption, Monk now seems finally to be gaining long-deserved acceptance. A highly successful New York engagement at the Five Spot, in the Summer and Fall of 1957, helped by providing all comers with the previously rare experience of close-up listening in a club setting. Also, some critics feel that he is becoming (as John S. Wilson has put it) “increasingly lucid.” If this sort of comment is to be taken as meaning that his music is becoming simpler or easier to digest, its accuracy is questionable, for such new compositions as Brilliant Corners (in RLP 12-226) and Crepescule with Nellie are at least as complex and unconventional as any of his earlier efforts. But it may be that, through more than a decade of exposure to not only Thelonious but also the many modernists who have absorbed his concepts, the jazz public and critics have become able to listen to Monk without being distracted by misgivings about dissonances, broken rhythms and the like, or by extraneous and dubious legends about personal eccentricities. It is also probably true that Monk’s own ability to translate his ideas into actual piano performance has seldom if ever been at a higher level of skill and clarity.

In any event, more and more new listeners now seem prepared to take the trouble (and it still is trouble, although it can be vastly rewarding) to pay close attention to Thelonious. Which makes it a fitting time to present an album largely devoted to new and expanded treatments of four Monk “classics” of the ’40s, previously recorded by him only in briefer versions and without horns.

It should be noted that terms like “composition,” “arrangement,” and for that matter even “performance,” can be quite misleading it taken too narrowly. To a performer-writer like Monk (and like most major figures in East Coast jazz today), a composition is automatically also an arrangement, designed to be played by himself and by specific other instruments (often specific musicians). In subsequent performance with other players and groups of different sizes, the arrangement changes; after a while, a change of attitude towards the original composition, or new creative ideas, can lead to further substantial alterations. (This may be one reason why jazz of this school, whatever its own shortcomings might be, can never be accused of “coldness,” a charge sometimes to be made against music prepared once-and-for-all by arrangers who then do not continue to be personally associated with the composition.)

Because of this, and because Monk never likes to consider any tune as static, irrevocable or finally set, an ‘old’ Monk piece can and often does become recast and revitalized to a point where it should properly be regarded as ‘new’ music.

The Music:

Abide with Me is the 19th Century hymn, always a favorite of Thelonious’ (and, coincidentally, written by one William H. Monk). It is stated here in just under a minute – an instance of the rarer side of the LP-granted freedom to make a piece as long or as short as desired. Only the four horns play in this respectful, straight-forward arrangement that adds unique Monk sonorities to the familiar tune.

Well, You Needn’t is one of two selections given extended treatment, with blowing room for all; an approach more typical of Monk’s in-person appearances than of his recorded work. The tune was fully familiar to all present; the result was relaxed and inventive solo work. Between ensembles, opening and closing solos by Thelonious frame choruses by, in order: Coltrane, Copeland, Ware, Blakey, Hawkins, Gryce.

Ruby, My Dear was the first tune set for the album. Monk heard it in his mind as a perfect vehicle for the Hawk’s matchless ballad style; and he was right.

Off Minor, originally a trio number spotlighting sparse, angular Monk piano, now becomes a rich seven-piece score. Solos by Hawkins, Copeland, Monk.

Epistrophy is the second long, blowing selection, with solos by, in sequence; Coltrane, Copeland, Gryce, Ware, Blakey, Hawkins, Monk.

Crepescule (meaning “twilight”) with Nellie (Mrs. Monk) is largely Thelonious; a chorus and a half of piano followed by an ensemble half-chorus.