It’s funny how sometimes the most obscure circumstances can make history. That certainly was the case when the little-known pianist Bill Evans and his trio played these afternoon and evening sets at the Village Vanguard. They were opening for the quite popular jazz vocal group Lambert Hendricks & Ross in what was then an obscure little club in the seedy, slightly scary bohemian enclave called Greenwich Village. The patrons paid $1.50 for the matinee show, $2.50 for the evening. (From the sound of things, they really liked what they heard.)
But somebody at Riverside, which had Evans under contract, decided to record it, and Orrin Keepnews and crew set up a little two-track Ampex at a table right next to the bandstand, pretty much mixing it live. And this little afternoon and evening of music on Sunday, 25 June, 1961, has gone on to be hailed as one of the greatest live jazz recording sessions of all time. Parts of it were released on two albums, Sunday at the Village Vanguard in late 1961 and Waltz for Debby the following spring. Those two albums have never been out of print since.
This package presents the four sets the trio played that day – two matinees and two evening shows – in chronological order, pretty much as they happened, with the exception of a couple of performances on a tape reel that’s been lost. In addition to the applause after each tune, you can frequently hear the clinking of glasses and laughter and conversations among audience members. The first track is a number that was never released until this set came out on CD, bassist Scott LeFaro’s “Gloria’s Step,” which was interrupted by a brief power failure in the club.
As I was writing one of the introductory paragraphs above, I stopped in awe and listened transfixed to the opening bars of “Some Other Time,” the second number in the second afternoon set; the sublime interaction between Evans’s piano phrasing and LeFaro’s vocal-quality bass voicings, with the occasional cymbal wash from drummer Paul Motian, which to me is the very essence of the jazz trio. I’ve heard this piece many times on the standard-quality CD version, but this warm, breath-taking LP issue truly brings it to life.
This set is full of little moments like that: The synchronous, sympathetic counterpoint between bass and piano on the languid intro to the Herb Ellis standard “Detour Ahead” that closes the first evening set; Motian’s subtle cutting-up of the beat on … well, on everything, but I love what he does on Evans’s lovely “Waltz For Debby”; LeFaro’s jumps of an octave or more as he and Evans explore the harmonies of that same tune. There are are plenty of moments when Evans plays solo, or nearly so; and LeFaro takes a turn out front on nearly every tune, usually pizzicato but occasionally arco; and Motian even takes a solo or two. But what’s best about this music, what made it so immediately popular and influential, is how it “represents the pinnacle of spontaneous musical communication: three men breathing as one on a tiny bandstand,” in the words of the publicity material. It’s not hype if it’s true. The fact that it was this trio’s last date adds poignancy; LeFaro was killed in an auto accident days later.
The only thing new about this set is that it’s on 180-gram vinyl. It’s the LP version of the complete Village Vanguard set that was released on CDs in 2003. Of course the packaging is bigger, the liner notes and other materials are printed large enough to be read comfortably. The book contains a note from the package’s producer Bill Belmont as well as the 2003 notes from original producer Orrin Keepnews, who really has been having a field day with all of the reissues of the great recordings he presided over back in the day.
I am a fairly recent convert to the beauty of Bill Evans’s music. And I’m not an audiophile or a collector of high-grade vinyl. Although I have a couple of hundred vinyl LPs, they all are original pressings from the 1960s, ’70s and ’80s, before the advent of CDs, not collector-grade 180-gram deluxe vinyl. In fact, I’ve often rolled my eyes about the current deluxe vinyl craze, which sees people paying $20 or more for an LP – why, I bought the original three-disc Woodstock set for about $10!
That all evaporated when I dropped the needle on Side A of Disc 1 of this lovely set. Oh, that’s what they’re talking about! It sounds like Bill Evans, Scot LaFaro and Paul Motian are in my livingroom. And believe me, I do not have a fancy stereo system.
Any review of this set is bound to be largely preaching to the choir: jazz and vinyl enthusiasts who already want it. But if you’re a casual fan, wondering what the fuss is all about, thinking you’ll just get the CDs … take the plunge. Hearing this music on this superbly pressed vinyl will show you just how close a great recording can come to actual live, intimate jazz. (And if you would like to know more about Bill Evans and why he’s considered such a touchstone of jazz piano, check out the wonderful audio biography of Evans on NPR’s Jazz Profiles).
(Riverside, 2014)
