At the time of his Prestige tenure, Tiny Grimes was already something of a living legend. Largely self-taught, Grimes learned guitar on the job, and not just any jobs, but jam sessions with the likes of Don Byas and Charlie Christian. One of his first extended gigs was as a member of Art Tatum’s trio with Slam Stewart- hardly a setting where a jazz musician would want to be caught with improvisatory drawers down. Grimes rose to the formidable challenge of his employer, impressing Tatum to the extent that the pianist refused to believe he hadn’t had any formal training.
Fertile associations with Charlie Parker and Ike Quebec followed, and Grimes unique voice on four-string guitar became synonymous with the swing of 52nd Street in Harlem. With the decline of that scene in the early 50s, Grimes turned to the more lucrative field of R&B and formed the Rocking Highlanders, a band that also included a young Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, to capitalize on the then nascent sounds of Rock and Roll. Later in the decade he organized a small organ combo to once again try to plug into popular trends. But by early 1958 his was back mining his swing and blues roots, a freshly minted contract with Prestige firmly in hand.
Several talents set Grimes apart from both his contemporaries in the world of jazz guitar. He was a master of pitch and texture, often wielding his instrument’s amplification with as much acumen as the frets themselves. During his solos, which could spool out for minutes, he would frequently bend and torque his strings, creating volume swells and gradations that significantly widened his tonal palette. Rather than simply play a line straight, he would vary the speed and trajectory of his chord voicings, coming at them from sharp angles that could raise tension and momentum in a tune. But perhaps most importantly, he never abandoned a foundational sense of swing. Even his most complicated lines avoided clutter.
For Blues Groove , his Prestige debut, he assembled a Philadelphia-based rhythm section headed up by pianist Ray Bryant. As his frontline partner, he chose arguably the most recognizable proponent of swing-to-bop saxophone on the planet: Coleman Hawkins.
The verbose “Marchin’ Along” that opens the album coalesces into a pleasurable romp rather than a grueling exercise in excess. Built on a steady succession of blues riffs and a basic rhythmic chassis the piece begins with Grimes caught nearly in mid-strum. Spinning off crisp chords over a robust bouncing rhythm the guitarist stretches out for a string of swinging choruses that bring out the best in his finely tuned frets for the better part of five minutes. The length of his solo ends up surpassing that of Hawk, who proves himself no slouch either in the extended extemporization department.
Wailing out of the gate at the eight and half minute mark, the rough-hewn tenor steams full speed ahead. Consuming chorus after chorus in the mighty maw of his horn’s hungry bell his improvisation positively exudes the sort of swaggering bravado that made him the envy of so many peers. After these two stamina-affirming salvos, Bryant’s solo sounds almost perfunctory, but he still manages to kick up a stomping racket on the keys. The players wrap things up with an enthusiastic return to the opening riff.
“A Smooth One” adds Kaleem’s featherweight flute to the party, but again it’s the pairing of Grimes and Hawk that really draws notice. Exercising his leadership privileges, the guitarist solos first, alternating brittle energetic picking with quick stabbing, string dampening accents. Bryant follows and keeps the happy groove moving against the steady walking throb of Wormack’s bass. Hawk has a short, but persuasive say, and then it’s Kaleem’s cool-toned flute for a lithesome clutch of phrases. Grimes slips back in for a quick strummed aside and the band takes the tune out together.
“Blues Wail” belies the promise of its title and is instead a slinky, slow-tempoed affair, steeped in smoky cerulean hues. Grimes elongates his crenellated lines for added emphasis against the sparse backdrop of the rhythm section and even gets in some spooky volume swells in the bargain. Hawk returns the tune back to its titular roots, blowing emphatic legato phrases, thick with chocolaty vibrato while Kaleem and Bryant are assigned the rear.
