The Vinyl Detective

Apart from the Miles Davis and Charles Mingus tracks, my favorite tune on Andrew Cartmel’s VINYL DETECTIVE album is Mal Waldron’s “Warm Canto.” This unusual track features the B♭clarinet of Eric Dolphy and the pizzicato cello of Ron Carter. The lovely modal piece strikes a meditative mood induced by the melody, Waldron’s thoughtful piano solo and sensitive support from the rhythm section of Joe Benjamin on bass and Charlie Persip, drums. I find some of the flaws in this track, which have been occasionally commented upon, such as Dolphy’s clarinet squeak at around 1’10”, easily overlooked. In fact, I wonder if this “squeak” was intentional, as it seems to add an extra dimension of emotion, a kind of vulnerability, to the proceedings. Carter’s problems with intonation are pretty minimal on this track, at least compared to a few other spots on the album.


“Warm Canto” comes from Mal Waldron’s album THE QUEST, originally released on the New Jazz label in 1962, with the music subsequently reissued several times, sometimes under Eric Dolphy’s name. Until listening to the VINYL DETECTIVE album I had been unaware of THE QUEST but have now obtained it and listened to it several times – unfortunately with somewhat mixed feelings. In addition to the aforementioned Dolphy, Carter, Benjamin and Persip, the album also has tenor sax player Booker Ervin, on all tracks except “Warm Canto.”



The opening track on THE QUEST, “Status Seeking,” begins with a fractured version of “Frère Jacques” but that notion is put to rest by Dolphy taking off on an inspired alto flight, ably supported by Benjamin’s bass and Persip’s drums, and accompanied by appropriate prodding by Mal’s piano. Ervin follows Eric with a very nice energetic solo, marred only a bit by Booker’s Texas tenor whine and wail I discuss further below. The energy level ratchets down a few notches with a short plucked cello solo by Carter that is not exactly bad but not very good either. Note, however, Waldron’s astute accompaniment to the solo. Mal follows with an interesting solo of his own, sounding not quite like any other pianist of the day. The aptly named “Duquility” skillfully blends a combination of bowed cello work, tandem saxes and carefully chosen piano notes, all of which definitely evoke the sound and feel of Ellington at his best – in short, a “tranquil” lovely tribute to the Duke. “Thirteen” is a strange little tune based on something resembling a 12-tone row, but weirdly ends up sounding like it might be from the soundtrack to an episode of a 50’s era cop show like Jack Webb’s Dragnet - “just the fact ma’am.” It has decent solos by all four – Dolphy, Carter, Ervin and Waldron but is not an especially memorable track – simply put, the “row,” with little sense of forward movement, does not provide a very good basis for improvisation – although Eric and Mal do give it a good try. “We Diddit” is a more straight-ahead jazz tune and features a fine drum solo by Persip.


After “Warm Canto,” which opens the second side, the album continues with two more good tracks. “Warp and Woof” lopes along at a cool easy pace and has Mal taking the first solo – another uniquely characteristic one. Eric again bests Booker in the creativity department, lacing his solo with numerous astonishing runs and some humorous quotes from musical history. Booker joins in on Eric’s last chorus and it seems as if the tune might erupt into a Mingus-style jamboree but this is quickly squelched by a return to the melody. “Fire Waltz” has a pretty melody with Eric’s alto leading the dance and Booker’s tenor following. Dolphy doesn’t solo on the tune here but his workout on Waldron’s “Fire Waltz” on ERIC DOLPHY AT THE FIVE SPOT (1961, New Jazz), with Waldron, another Booker – trumpeter Little, that is - Richard Davis and Ed Blackwell, is essential listening.


THE QUEST makes clear that Waldron is clearly a fine composer and player. I became aware of his work several decades ago when one of my very first jazz album purchases was Jackie McLean’s wonderful JACKIE MCLEAN QUINTET with Donald Byrd (1957, Jubilee), on which Mal makes major contributions both in his playing and his composition, “Mood Malady.” However, I seem not to have been so impressed as to seek out Mal’s work as leader – perhaps because my main focus at the time was on sax players, and at the piano bench, more aggressive players such as Tyner and the like. It would seem that Waldron’s discography deserves a reevaluation on my part.


The tenor sax man Booker Ervin appears on all tracks of THE QUEST save for “Warm Canto.” Ervin stands out as a skillfully energetic player on some of my favorite Charles Mingus albums, from JAZZ PORTRAITS (1959, United Artists) and BLUES AND ROOTS (1960, Atlantic) to MINGUS MINGUS MINGUS MINGUS MINGUS (1964, Impulse). His tenor lends excitement to many classic Mingus pieces, where his “preaching” sets the tracks on fire, but also a poignant beauty to pieces such as “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat.” He was clearly a man I had to hear more of and the first album I purchased with the Book as leader was THE TRANCE (1965, Prestige). It is a quartet album, with just piano, bass and drums, and provides a whole lot of space for Ervin’s tenor. Although he displays great technical facility, I found his long solos a bit lacking in the idea department. There is also a quirk in his playing which becomes somewhat distracting with extended listening. Often, he just won’t let go of a note - over and over again he extends the last note of a phrase, often bending it up or down. Combined with his rather acerbic Texas tenor tone, this comes across, to my ear, as a repeated kind of whine or wail throughout his playing – almost as if accompanying himself on his own built-in bagpipe. Although not as prominent on THE QUEST, these features of his style are, for me, a detriment to the overall sound of his work.


It’s not easy to keep the fresh ideas flowing on a side-long track like “The Trance.” Also on display on “The Trance” is the Book’s “quirk,” in an especially egregious example because it seems to be built into the very tune itself. The album has excellent support throughout from Jaki Byard, Reggie Workman and Alan Dawson.




Eric Dolphy’s playing is on another plane. Here is a surfeit of ideas and exquisite technique, both instrumentally and in musical theory. He sounds like no other musician. I recently had occasion to listen to Oliver Nelson’s STRAIGHT AHEAD (1961, New Jazz), which features Dolphy extensively. Unlike on Nelson’s more famous THE BLUES AND THE ABSTRACT TRUTH (1961, Impulse), STRAIGHT AHEAD has Nelson and Dolphy as the only two horn players and major soloists. On some tracks, both Oliver and Eric play alto saxes and the uniqueness of Dolphy’s approach to an alto solo is on full display, contrasting enormously with Nelson’s playing – in tone, variety of rhythms, and most strikingly, in choice of notes and their relationship to the harmonic structure of the tune. Whereas Nelson’s playing is for the most part impeccable, there is almost no place where his choice of notes might be deemed “surprising” – any of a dozen sax players could have played these solos. Dolphy, on the other hand, seems like a man from another planet – “outward bound,” “out there,” “out to lunch.” I would assert that his notes are never (or rarely) “wrong” but his solos always include notes which are a surprising extension or substitution within the harmonic structure of the tune – sometimes resulting in the transient abrogation of that structure – part of the challenge of many a Dolphy solo, for me, is keeping track of just where he is within the structure.

Listen to the contrast between Nelson and Dolphy’s approaches to a sax solo. Where they trade fours is especially fun. Never any doubt about “who’s who.” Also fine work by Richard Wyands, George Duvivier and Roy Haynes.





That Dolphy’s unique approach is a deeply personal and ingrained one is clear from some of his albums in highly conventional settings, such as CARIBÉ (1961, New Jazz), his album with the Latin Jazz Quintet. Even within this constrained setting, Dolphy is Dolphy, and a joy to listen to. Despite the uniqueness of his approach he manages to fit within the music of almost any group. My first exposure to Dolphy came at a “Jazz for a Young Audience” session at an International Jazz Festival in the U.S capital city. He was a surprise soloist in an orchestral piece called “Journey into Jazz,” that had been composed and was being led by “Third Stream” guru Gunther Schuller himself. It had a narrative written by author and critic Nat Hentoff that was performed by the pop singer Bobby Darin. When the tall, very thin alto saxophonist in a black suit arose and played his first solo, a hush at first fell over the surprised audience, but was followed by great interest and excitement. Clearly, here was a man with a new approach. It was an unforgettable moment for me and sent me to Ornette Coleman’s FREE JAZZ (Atlantic, 1961), the first album I purchased “with my own money.” On Waldron’s THE QUEST, Dolphy is his inimitable self and, along with Waldron, provides, for me, the most enjoyment from the album. My one quibble with Dolphy’s playing overall is that quite often – but not always – my enjoyment is almost purely intellectual and not emotional.


A noteworthy issue of Down Beat magazine (April 12, 1962) from my collection. Feature article and joint interview with the two musicians by Don DeMicheal : “John Coltrane and Eric Dolphy Answer the Jazz Critics.” Beautiful pencil/charcoal portraits by “Roth” on the cover:



Also notable throughout Mal Waldron’s THE QUEST are the strong contributions of Joe Benjamin and Charlie Persip, the latter of whom has appeared on a rather stunning array of important albums. Check out his discography. On listening to “Warm Canto,” I was impressed by Ron Carter’s plucked cello, which added a lot to the mood of the piece. But as noted above and in many reviews of THE QUEST, it appeared that Carter was having not a little trouble finding the notes on the cello. I have mixed feelings about this issue and might even favor the generous theory that Carter knew exactly what he was doing, and that his playing was a “jazz player’s” interpretation of what the instrument should sound like, a rebuke to the academy with its emphasis on instrumental technique over creativity. Whatever the reason, I count the fact that it is sometimes a distraction to the music as a relatively minor negative. More important to me were the occasions where the cello solos interrupted the energy flow of the tunes and were simply not well integrated into the overall feel of the tunes, although this can also be said for countless bass solos throughout jazz history.

THE QUEST is an album worth listening to – an asset to Waldron’s discography and reputation and raising many points for further study and listening – but, like much in life, is not without a few flaws of its own.