Grover Washington, Jr.
Winelight

Between the Seventies and Eighties, one of the most resonant events in the jazz scene was the birth (and the subsequent, instant establishment) of a new stylistic stream destined to achieve great public success in the years to come; I am referring to the genre known as "Smooth Jazz," a form of Jazz freely open to stylistic elements borrowed from Pop and certain more refined "easy-listening," characterized by sweet, sinuous, polished sounds, distant from the harshness of "Free" Jazz and the more experimental Fusion; a genre recognizable, above all, for the pronounced melodic sensitivity demonstrated by its major interpreters, often accustomed to flirt with the more established standards of the "song form" and to provide evocative, pleasant reinterpretations of classics familiar to the general public; indeed, one of the first signals of this new direction had already been observed at the end of the Sixties, when Wes Montgomery entertained with captivating reinterpretations of songs that had already become true standards, such as "I Saw A Little Prayer" and the Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby," among the most "covered" songs by the Fab Four. "Entertainment music," or "background music," said some critics rightly, but without exaggerating the dangerous (and certainly negative) aspects such a judgment might hide: we are talking - at least regarding the most established instrumentalists of the genre - about artists in the full sense of the word, representatives of a unique poetic and not mere, unbiased interpreters of routine music for the broader market. A look at the top exponents of this "school" (which is not a school, despite the due recognition of numerous common traits) will confirm the appropriateness of this emphasis of mine: Herp Albert, Chuck Mangione, David Sanborn, Dave Grusin (founder, among others, of the prestigious GRP Records), and Joe Sample are, above all, instrumentalists of great stature, both individually (each boasting an excellent solo career) and considering their prestigious collaborations. Conversely, I do not entirely agree with including Larry Carlton and Jay Beckenstein's Spyro Gyra in this category, as they belong more to the universe of more "canonical," "tout-court" Fusion.

Among the best and most appreciated "Smooth Jazz" musicians is undoubtedly the late saxophonist Grover Washington Jr., author of pieces that enthusiasts of those elegant sounds will fondly remember. Originally from Buffalo, he inherited his passion for Jazz (Benny Goodman, especially) from his father, a regular collector of ancient records of the genre, starting to play the saxophone at the age of eight. Having moved to New York City, his talent-scout was Billy Cobham, before embarking in the early Seventies on a successful career marked by triumphs and accolades, alongside excellent recordings ("Mister Magic," "Feels So Good," and "A Secret Place," in particular, the latter with Dave Grusin, bassist Anthony Jackson, and drummer Harvey Mason). But it is with "Winelight," in 1980, that Washington shapes his masterpiece, an album of sophisticated, intriguing, subtly sensual atmospheres. Joining him is the cream of the session men of the period: rhythm section entrusted to Marcus Miller and Steve Gadd, here and there - just for good measure - some understated splashes of Oberheim synthesizer by Ed Walsh, and the percussion (various congas and bells) by Ralph McDonald adding a touch of vibrant ethnicity; a note of merit also to the splendid Fender Rhodes inlays created by Paul Griffin and Richard Tee (Paul Simon's trusted man, and a few years later, also a collaborator of Pino Daniele). Marginal, however, and not very impactful is Eric Gale's guitar, rather functional in further enriching an original sound, capable of shining for the freshness and technical quality of the proposal and for the happy insights of the musicians involved. Washington, for his part, proves to be a soloist of great taste and refinement, as well as an interpreter of an extraordinarily elegant and emotional sound mixture; his vein is predominantly romantic and meditative, comfortable amid discreet and velvety, yet incisive and biting phrases when the intensity of certain particularly tight moments requires it (see the central part of "Let It Flow"). Far from the risks of monotony, "Winelight" manages to seduce from the first listen, featuring a series of interesting instrumentals (the only sung piece is the well-known "Just The Two Of Us," entrusted to the "R'n'B" vocals of Bill Withers and number 2 on the American charts in the summer of 1981) and remaining evocative from the first to the last minute.

Evocative from the very exposure of the theme of the initial "title-track," marked by Miller's bass and softly whispered guitar notes, seemingly simple twelve-bar Blues, actually harmonically atypical, because the third section is shifted half a tone up, generating in the listener a feeling of volatility, of unresolved suspension. The rhythmic "Let It Flow" is instead dedicated, in the liner notes, to a phantom "Dr. J," none other than the great basketball player Julius Erving, NBA star of the '70s/'80s with the Philadelphia 76ers (confirming the saxophonist's oft-declared passion for basketball); here the role of percussion is decisive, I would even say "constitutive" of the very sound matter, highlighting the bass lines and giving the piece a touch of elusive exoticism; the central section is occupied, besides the leader’s fiery solo, by "slapped" variations performed by Miller on the tonic minor scale in D; the splendid "Take Me There" moves to the same cadences, while "In The Name Of Love" presents softer, sweeter (and captivating) tones. The already mentioned "Just The Two Of Us" remains, with a remarkable Oberheim solo (here played by Bill Eaton) à la Weather Report and intriguing female choirs enriching the atmosphere, and the equally significant conclusion of "Make Me a Memory," a sumptuous and nostalgic Samba for further evolutions of Grover's magical saxophone.

It was a great loss for contemporary Jazz when our artist passed away in 1999, struck down by cardiac arrest. But rediscovering, thirty years later, the charm and freshness of this album (a true jewel of class and style) is a very particular pleasure. Five stars also for the historical importance of the work in the "Smooth" landscape.