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Rating: Sometimes, evidently, the discography reserves surprises and secrets worthy of the best Dan Brown and frankly incomprehensible. We're talking about Stan Getz, that is, one of the best saxophonists in the history of jazz, and probably the best non-black one.
Together with him is the excellent pianist Kenny Barron (at the time a sort of always present twin, a black and pianistic alter ego) and a simply perfect rhythm section, consisting of Victor Lewis on drums and George Mraz on bass. Nothing strange so far. The oddity, in fact, as signaled by the title, comes from reading the liner notes.
The recordings are from 1989, while the release is from 2003. As we know, the recordings could not have been later: Stan would leave us a couple of years from then, after a few well-documented tours, both with the band and in duo with Barron (the double “People Time” is an absolutely unmissable record), without fortune allowing him to enter the studio anymore.
It's just that until 2003, we all thought that Stan Getz's last official album was the good “Apasionado”, produced by Herb Alpert and a bit overloaded with keyboards and percussion, yet still a highly regarded album, although perhaps a bit victim of that sometimes forced Latin-influenced sound that characterized much of Getz's career, and not always rightfully so. Then, apparently out of nowhere and not even too announced, these pearls emerge.
The album is, simply, beautiful. Simple, pure, deep. Still produced by Alpert, but with a light and ancient touch. Or, perhaps better, timeless. Stan's sax sound is the same as always, but especially that of his later years: perfect, full, round but at the same time suffering and characterized by that almost aggressive liveliness that always ended up being more caress than punch, more finesse than scream, more studied and contained emotion than an unrestrained flow of instinct.
Barron excels magnificently, with a simply perfect phrasing, both in technique, soul, and originality. Enough to suspect that these recordings might have been made for his project, and that Stan might perhaps just be a luxury “guest star”. It would be nice to ask Barron, who often and willingly passes through Italy. Either way, the lineup is reduced, and the soloists are two anyway. Thus, there is a way and time to hear them both well, on an album that is as long as it is beautiful in the fullest and most direct sense of the word.
According to the liner notes, this work was supposed to mark Stan Getz's debut on the A&M label, and we can only acknowledge that. The fact is that five of the nine compositions are by Kenny Barron, and they are all beautiful. Not even a shadow of a doubt that it could be discarded material. It is raw material, from the first note written on a staff to the last recorded chord. This is not stuff that should have stayed there. And in my opinion, it's certainly not stuff born to remain there either. So why was it hidden all this time? Why did A&M or others not publish it earlier?
Fourteen years are a lot, objectively, especially for a work of this caliber. Frankly, it is inexplicable. Time, folks, is a nasty beast: today more than ever. Today when the market dictates choices to increasingly distracted and uncritical young people, today when professional journalists only talk about the things they have to talk about, driven more by the wallet than the heart. Today, in short, a record like this goes unnoticed.
It reaches industry insiders and enthusiasts of the genre. While the music enclosed within this holy grail is wonderful, of vast accessibility. It is well-written and played divinely. To all the friends I've let hear it, it has sparked unrestrainable enthusiasm and repeated requests for copies. Seek this rare, precious and incredibly out-of-time album. It is capable of giving infinite joy to your emotions. A musical orgasm.
And, by reading the liner notes, you will understand the depth of the rhetorical adage “better late than never”.
Tracklist
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