Donald Byrd
Royal Flush

LA RECENSIONE

Today I'm preparing a fantastic jazz cocktail for you.

In the shaker, I start with two Jewish guys: Alfred Lion, an avid jazz music enthusiast, and his counterpart Francis Wolff, who is always on the move with his inseparable Rolleiflex. The two fled from Berlin before things worsened due to that mustachioed psychopath and his acolytes. Once they reached New York, they made their dream come true by founding the Blue Note record label. Then I add another young hopeful, Rudy Van Gelder, who, despite having a good job (he was an optician), dabbled in music recording in his spare time using his parents' living room in New Jersey as a recording studio. A dash of eclecticism is essential, so I also introduce Reid Miles, a graphic designer of great class, to add character to this cocktail's color palette. It's time to add the main ingredient of our drink: Donald Byrd, who, along with his trumpet, grew up chasing the myth of Dizzy Gillespie, Clifford Brown, and the mighty Miles Davis.

At this point, all that's left is to shake (don't stir, or you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder for 007) and serve. What emerges from the shaker is certainly not a Vesper Martini, but it is a cocktail with a taste just as sweet and bitter.

I'm talking about “Royal Flush,” recorded for Blue Note in September 1961 at the legendary Englewood Cliffs Studio (NJ).

Alongside the bandleader, you'll hear: Pepper Adams on baritone saxophone, Butch Warren on double bass, Billy Higgins on drums, and the 21-year-old debutant Herbie Hancock on piano.

The album contains six Hard Bop tracks, four of which were composed by Byrd himself.

It begins with “Hush,” a fantastic blues groove piece where the phrasing between trumpet, sax, and piano is magnificent and elegant. It continues with the cover of “I'm a Fool to Want You,” the poignant ballad written by Frank “Blue Eyes” Sinatra (along with J. Herron, J. Wolf) for Ava Gardner. Next is “Jorgie's,” which pleasantly surprises us with an alternation of bitonal rhythm and suspensions.

On side B, we hear “Shangri-La,” which, despite its rather complex musical structure, is immediately pleasing to listen to. It is followed by “6 M'S,” another blues groove in the key of C, which glides by effortlessly. It concludes with “Requiem,” a piece written by Hancock, featuring a melodic and fluid rhythm enriched by solos from Adams on sax and Warren on double bass.

From the album cover, Donald Byrd lays down his royal flush, and that's it—all bets are off.