The sound of Fantasy's mono jazz records from the mid-fifties is a sound that I really love. Should you try some—and I am referring to the records that were pressed on translucent red vinyl—the first thing you'll notice is they lack the forced-upon-you "high fidelity" sound of the Capitol and Columbia mono LPs. This is because Fantasy rarely added reverb, or spiced up their recordings with radio-friendly EQ. Mono newcomers, or, to be more specific, mono jazz newcomers, might find that Fantasy's mid-fifties sound is a little rounded on the edges. To me, the sound is tonally correct, and sonically comforting. Pianist Dave Brubeck (1920-2012) and vibist Cal Tjader (1925-1982) were the first musicians signed to Fantasy, and they made the label's most popular jazz albums. I also love the color coordination of Fantasy's cherry cola shade of translucent red vinyl and their rust-colored labels. And if you already like Dave Brubeck, and of course Paul Desmond (1924-1977), on Columbia, wait until you hear their earlier and best work! The same goes for Cal Tjader. His Verve albums from the sixties, like Soul Sauce and Several Shades Of Jade, offer good entertainment, but they lack the smoldering excitement of the albums he made in the fifties, like Ritmo Caliente! (Fantasy 3216), and Cal Tjader's Latin Concert (Fantasy 3275).
The subject of this review, which is indeed a Fantasy title pressed on red vinyl, is by the great vibist Red Norvo (1908-1999). His group at the time of this recording was a trio, and the album is called Red Norvo With Strings (Fantasy 3218). The title is a parody, because Norvo's "strings" are guitarist Tal Farlow (1921-1998) and bassist Red Mitchel (1927-1992). The album was recorded in October of 1955 at the legendary Radio Recorders in Los Angeles. Norvo's sound is different from fantasy's big star, Cal Tjader, but just as engaging. Norvo's vibes tend to sound light and bubbly compared with Tjader's cool and creamy sound.
Side one opens with George Gershwin's "Who Cares?." To my ears it sounds like a warmup for better things to come. You won't hear a lot of inspiration on this cut, but what you will hear is a perfect sampling of Norvo's light-as-a-feather phrasing and his sweet tone. I'd swear this is a first take, because both Norvo and Farlow sound like they're just fooling around. I don't mind that the record opens up with a loose jam, because it shifts into the next higher gear on the second cut, and it stays there.
Cut two is my favorite cut on the album. It's the Harold Arlen song, "Let's Fall In Love." I guess you would call it a standard because it was recorded by countless singers, and I love two magnificent vocal versions. One is by the incomparable George Dewitt from his album Name That Tune (RKO ULP-145), which I reviewed HERE. The other is by the master of romantic singing, Vic Damone, from his album, That Towering Feeling (Columbia CL900). I probably have another instrumental version, somewhere in an uncharted part of my LP collection, but with Norvo's version I'm in no rush to find it. The cut opens with Norvo singing the song with his mallets. Tal Farlow is amazing in his ability to connect with every one of Norvo's musical thoughts, and Red Mitchell plays as if his bass strings were an extension of Farlow's guitar. Talk about simpatico! I also love how the microphone-captured and reverb-free sound makes the music sound alive and believable.
There isn't a bad moment on this entire first side, but the last cut stands out. It's a song that dates back to 1929 called "How Am I To Know?". I had to face the fact that I actually didn't know another version. So, for the sake of this review, I listened to Glenn Miller's swinging from the 1937 version. It's classic Glenn Miller, as in fun and satisfying. I also listened to Billie Holiday's slow and bluesy version from 1945. Tempo wise, Norvo's version is closer to Miller. It opens with Farlow and Mitchell, but Norvo joins them quickly. Like Miller, the trio swings the tune, and you'd have to be a really good dancer to keep up with them.
Side two opens with the Harold Arlen-Johnny Mercer classic, "That Old Black Magic." Most recordings are by singers, and I mean the best singers, like Judy Garland, Sammy Davis Jr, and Frank Sinatra. With that said, what the trio does with this song is pure jazz magic. Red Mitchell provides an understated introduction on his bass, but it's only a quick intro. The "singer," who in this case is Red Norvo, has an important job to do, and that job is playing the song's familiar main verse, which he does very well. (I wonder who was singing inside Norvo's head?) In the middle of the cut we find a wonderful Farlow guitar solo, which is followed by a Norvo solo, and then by a Mitchell solo. A splendid time is guaranteed for all!
Cut three is the shortest cut on the album. It's a Norvo-Farlow original called "I Brung You Finjans For Your Zarf." It's a fast jam. The guitar and bass are simply creating a background for Norvo's vibes. Jazz albums that are slow from start to finish (a big problem with modern jazz albums) bore me. This is indeed a mellow album, but even a mellow album benefits from a splash of caffeine. It makes the album sound more interesting.
The album closes with one of my favorite jazz melodies, George Shearing's "Lullaby of Birdland." My favorite version of this tune has always been by Chris Connor (1927-2009), from her 10" record, Chris Connor Sings Lullaby Of Birdland (Bethlehem BCP 1001). That changed when I heard Norvo's version, so now I can only refer to Connor's version as my favorite vocal version. I don't know if Norvo, Farlow, and Mitchell had Connor singing in their heads, but she's singing inside my head, and, man, does this trio do the Shearing's classic justice!
In today's recording world, where most music exists behind an impenetrable curtain of digitally created ambience, the sound of this simply mic'd recording is like a breath of fresh mountain air. As I stated above, the ambience of this album came from the room, rather than a live echo chamber, an EMT plate, or the above-mentioned poison, digital reverb. The sound is so unforced, that upon your first exposure, it may sound as if the top end is little rolled off. Trust me, it's not. The musical colors of all three instruments are fully saturated. I doubt that any more than three mics were used to capture the three musicians. The long-gone room at Radio Recorders was an inspiration for many musicians. Proof of the studio's sonic magic can be heard on a number of albums. Two of the best stereo examples of that magical recording space are Ella Fitzgerald's Clap Hands, Here Comes Charlie and Elvis Presley's Stereo '57. I'm sure that there are many wonderful sounding mono albums that came from this studio as well, and this album has to be among the best of them.
I used my office system to review this record. It consists of a Micro Seiki DQ50 turntable, a Hana EH moving coil cartridge, a Sherwood 7-7650 receiver, and my trusty Sennheiser HD650 headphones. The tonearm cables are by Rega.
