By Chris M. Slawecki
December 17, 1999 had been such a wonderful evening. I had just escorted my date to her employerÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs annual year-end holiday party, a delightful semi-formal faux Monte Carlo night at the prestigious Radnor Hunt Club, amongst the landed aristocracy of suburban Philadelphia. The evening spilled over with elegant surroundings, gourmet food, fine music and dancing, and excellent bourbon. But the time had come to go. As I steered the car down the winding driveway, I turned on the radio, already tuned by my date to PhillyÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂsmooth JazzÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ station. The smooth soulful sounds of Grover Washington, Jr.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs sax soothed the December night air, which was otherwise perfectly black, still and chilled. That first number segued into another song by Grover, and then another; ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂEast River Drive,ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ a gliding groove and consummate driving tune, was one of them, IÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂm sure. The night continued to flow. It was perfect. At the songÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs conclusion came the DJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs voiceover: Earlier that evening, Grover Washington Jr. had collapsed after recording several songs at CBSÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ New York television studio for broadcast on the next morningÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs edition of ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂThe Early ShowÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ; he was taken to St. LukeÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ Roosevelt Hospital, where he was pronounced dead from a fatal heart attack at the age of 56.
The Sound of Philadelphia. Philadelphia has been home to many great Jazz musicians. The city has even treated some of these musicians kindly. But itÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs rare when a musician loves a city, and a city loves back, the way that Philadelphia and Grover Washington Jr. cared for each other.
Grover wasnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt even from Philly ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ he was born in Buffalo ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ but he was ours. He moved to the city in the 1960s, after serving in the Army (playing in the same Army band as Billy Cobham). Like many jazz musicians who emerged from the City of Brotherly Love, GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs musical education included playing alongside the great Hammond B-3 organ players who called that city home, Johnny ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂHammondÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ Smith, Leon Spencer, and Charles Earland among them. His recorded his first professional session in 1970, as a soloist on EarlandÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs Living Black album when EarlandÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs regular saxophonist couldnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt make the date. Prestige Records has just released Discovery: The First Recordings, a compilation of GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs session work for the label from 1970-ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ71, his first professional work.
That Earland gig proved to be a good omen: GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs first session as a leader wasnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt supposed to be his record, either. In 1971, producer Creed Taylor set up a date for saxophonist Hank Crawford; Crawford couldnÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt make the date, however, and Taylor gave the session to GWJ instead. Inner City Blues pulsed with the heart of the Marvin Gaye anthem of its title track; its soulful and funky R&B, laced with inventive Jazz solos, effectively foreshadowed GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs career path. GWJ was officially on the map. (To TaylorÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs credit, it would have been a solid vehicle for CrawfordÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs R&B style, too.)
From that point GWJ seemed to work his craft almost constantly, performing and recording and performing charity or educational work, and he mastered the tenor, alto and soprano saxophones in the course of releasing several albums for the Motown and Kudu labels. "I've really worked on my sound," he once said. "I've tried to make it a personal sound. I want it to feel like there's a vocalist in there singing lyrics." Winelight, his 1980 debut for Elektra, was nominated for two Grammy Awards: Best Jazz Fusion Recording and Best R&B Song for ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂJust The Two of UsÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ with vocalist Bill Withers.
A CityÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs Favorite Son. In the 1980s, Washington frequently played the national anthem before Philadelphia 76ers home games while his good friend Julius ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂDr. J.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ Erving was a member of the team. The ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂDr.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ and the saxophonist found in each other smooth, gracious kindred spirits, and Winelight included a song for his friend, ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂLet It Flow (For Dr. JÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ). The Sixers werenÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂt undefeated when he played the anthem ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ but the team, the crowd, and the musician would all juice each other up and at times the team, which claimed the 1983 championship, could seem and feel invincible.
GWJ supported the city in other ways that might have been less visible but more important. He was a frequent guest instructor at The Settlement Music School, the largest music education, therapy, and outreach institution of its kind in the country, founded in Philadelphia nearly a century ago, and at the Philadelphia Clef Club of Jazz & Performing Arts, from which emerged, under GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs tutelage, the small ensemble Pieces of a Dream. Perhaps most importantly, he established the ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂProtect the DreamÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ Foundation, which provides funding for educational and musical resources and tools to public and nonprofit institutions dedicated to the music education of young Philadelphians. He also toured the country as an instructor for the NARAS education program ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂGrammy in the SchoolsÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ and as traveling instructor for Harmon InternationalÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂHow To Listen Tour.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
He also regularly performed with Peter Nero and his hometown Philly Pops. Nero recalled, upon GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs passing, that, ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂHe was a great role model for kids through his work bringing music to schools,ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ said Nero. ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂHe was a rare human being and a rare artist.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂAs a person he was the sweetest guy in the world, so humble for such a giant of a talent, which is a rare quality in this profession to find in a person.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
A New Discovery. Discovery: The First Recordings (Prestige) compiles tracks from GWJÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs first professional sessions, recorded between the fall of 1970 and the fall of ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ71. These tracks ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ previously released on titles by Earland (Living Black!), Spencer (Louisiana Slim), Smith (WhatÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂs GoinÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ On?) and guitarist Boogaloo Joe Jones (No Way! and What It Is) ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ capture the sound and feel of soul-funk-jazz as this music grooved and bopped from the late 1960s into the early 1970s. They also present GWJ mixing it up in more rough nÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ tumble formats and styles than the ones in which he later became commercially successful.
GWJ performs exclusively on tenor, except for the ballad ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂOur Love Will Never DieÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ on which he plays flute. Though his playing on Discovery never quite gets to gutbucket honking, both his sound and his approach seem more guttural, sharp-edged and nas-stay than the later work that made him famous. Throughout the latter part of his career, you almost never heard him put the squeeze on a slow moaninÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ twelve-bar blues such as ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂFadinÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ,ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ where his tenor is almost Texas rugged, or hanging as funky and tough as he does in ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂBetween The SheetsÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ and ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂSunshine Alley,ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ or breathing the fire (as does the rest of Boogaloo Joe JonesÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ ensemble) that smokes this blistering arrangement of ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂI Feel The Earth Move.ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ The final cut, a live and loose romp through ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂKiller Joe,ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ isÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ
well, a killer. The rhythm sections, particularly guitarists Jones, Melvin Sparks and Maynard Parker (both longstanding Prestige sidemen), make Discovery a solid pocket introduction to ÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂin the pocketÃÂÃÂÃÂÃÂ Grover Washington Jr.