Nobody Else But Me

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At a time when Stan Getz was exploding in popularity via the bossa nova craze of the mid-'60s, he was also touring with a quartet featuring a fresh-faced 21-year-old vibraphonist from Boston, Gary Burton. A short Canadian tour introduced Burton to a wider audience, but the pitfalls of their unmatched personalities resulted initially in documented tension between these major players. Smoothing things out, Getz and Burton made this lone recording together, displaying both their flaws and compatibility. The vibist is far back in the mix, and is a perfunctory voice for the music in general. Though softer in tone, Getz was ultimately demanding of the spotlight. When unable to find a compatible pianist or guitarist, Burton was chosen as an afterthought. Happily, it was eventually a good move, as there are some very pleasant, energetic, and even brilliant jazz passages on this 1964 date, in many ways a prelude to the early-'70s music that Getz would record on his album Captain Marvel with parallel melodicist Chick Corea. On this mixed date of standards and originals, Getz and Burton fully acknowledge their leader-sideman division-of-labor relationship in less subtle, instructed, and direct ways. Examples of this are telling as the strong-willed fluttery Getz plays a ballad like "Here's That Rainy Day" or goes full throttle on "What Is This Thing Called Love?" "Waltz for a Lovely Wife" is included with a full-length and much shorter 45 version, a free-flowing easy swing with Getz sounding more animated. The quirkiest tunes are "Summertime," an ear-catching treatment, unusual in the 4/4 construct from bassist Gene Cherico that seems to warp time, and Burton's bouncy 6/8 original "6-Nix-Quix-Fix," an advanced, progressive, and choppy pre-Captain Marvel composition. Burton's other composition, "Out of Focus," clearly is not blurred, starting off in an arrhythmic 6/8 Latin mood, then settling down for all to join in. It is the Mike Gibbs-penned "Sweet Sorrow," clearly brought to the repertoire by Burton, that presents unusual harmonic phrasings that sound a bit awkward. The serene and purely sentimental "Little Girl Blue" has the group sans drummer Joe Hunt in a colorful, developing, and lingering musical photograph, while the title track sounds like the band is really coming together, with a more mellow Getz acquiescing to an interactive mindset. Because of the enormous success of Getz's Brazilian music, this was not issued by Verve Records until 1994, with Burton's full endorsement via the liner notes he wrote (he says Getz was indeed "worried that bossa nova was burying his jazz identity"), and three years after the passing of Getz. For certain an intriguing date from a one-off band, it's good to hear what this quartet started off as, and firmly suggests what the group might have been.

© Michael G. Nastos /TiVo