Walter Bishop Jr.: Bish at the Bank: Live in Baltimore

Although he played with many of the icons of bebop's formative years from Bird to Miles, as well as those who were starting to reach for something beyond, including Ken McIntyre and Jackie McLean, pianist Walter Bishop Jr. never got his due as a leader, remaining woefully under-recorded until the 1970s. Most of his albums remain out of print, with the notable exceptions being The Walter Bishop Jr. Trio / 1965 (Prestige) and Coral Keys (Black Jazz, 1971)—and by the time of the latter record, Bishop had veered heavily into soul jazz, arguably not his most accomplished period. Which makes it entirely welcome that Zev Feldman and Cory Weeds, the creative minds behind Reel to Real Records, have given us this bountiful two-CD release (along with a vinyl version) to document two live outings from Bishop's mid-60s quartet, featuring saxophonist Harold Vick, bassist Lou McIntosh and drummer Dick Berk, recorded courtesy of the Left Bank Jazz Society of Baltimore. With Bishop in top form and given ample opportunity to stretch out with his partners on eight lengthy cuts, the album fills a major gap in Bishop's recorded legacy, and the caliber of musicianship is quite strong throughout.

The Left Bank Jazz Society was the lifeblood of the Baltimore jazz scene, sponsoring concerts beginning in 1964, with particular interest generated by Sunday shows which essentially became community-building events, in which patrons would bring food and beverages for themselves and the musicians, who were especially grateful for paid gigs on what typically was a slack day of the week for live jazz. If the audible conviviality of disc one, recorded at the Madison Club in 1966, is any indication, it is hard to imagine any musician would pass up a chance to play before such a crowd. From the up-tempo burner "My Secret Love" onward, the band is clearly feeding off the audience's energy, and it is especially noticeable on the hard bop-flavored "Blues," where Vick's rootsy delivery catalyzes plenty of shouts and hollers for its twelve-minute duration. Although, in general, the sound quality of the recording is less than ideal, the jubilant atmosphere of the performance is palpable and helps to make up for any shortcomings in audio quality.

Bishop's previous releases, for example the Prestige disc, tend to involve short tracks which don't really give the pianist a chance to dig in and explore their contours. Fortunately, that is not the case here. "Days of Wine and Roses," for instance, is a fifteen-minute excursion which allows Bishop and Vick room to develop their ideas at length. Vick is another under-recorded figure who honed his chops with organ-based combos such as those of Jack McDuff and Richard "Groove" Holmes, and he represents a bridge of sorts here between a bebop vocabulary (with which he is clearly fluent) and the soul jazz that would evolve later when he recorded with Bishop on Coral Keys. His garrulous solo on "Days" rides the firm groove established by McIntosh and Berk, and Bishop takes it from there, teasing out phrases which unfold at a leisurely pace and with a strong bluesy temperament, before Vick comes back in with some feisty jabs and a few overblown licks to take the piece to its conclusion. Antonio Carlos Jobim's "Quiet Nights" concludes the set, and here Vick switches from tenor sax to flute, with somewhat mixed results, although Bishop's fluid lines and propulsive chords are enough to set things right. A nod to Bishop's days with Art Blakey even emerges with a quote of "Moanin.'"

The second concert was from the following year, at the Famous Ballroom. While the audience is considerably less boisterous, the music is just as excellent. Two of the four pieces, "So What" and "Pfrancing (No Blues)" bear Miles Davis' imprint, in addition to "If I Were a Bell" and "Willow Weep for Me." Vick once again has ideas galore, as does Bishop, who effectively turns "Bell" into a hard bop extravaganza. The underrated tandem of McIntosh and Berk consistently keeps things moving. Berk in particular does a superb job of guiding the dynamic trajectory of each piece, able to bring the heat when it is called for but also skilful in lowering the temperature as well. His punchy aggression enhances Vick's fiery solo on "So What," and he keeps the group tethered to the beat during each moment of these fine performances. While Vick once again swaps out instruments on "Willow," turning this time to soprano sax, his admittedly less-than-stellar work on that horn is more than made up for with a superb solo on the concert's closer, "Pfrancing," in which he begins with just McIntosh in support and becomes progressively more assertive and fervid as his solo develops, finally moving solidly back into hard bop terrain when Bishop joins in.

Part of a cache of Left Bank projects released to celebrate Record Store Day 2023 which includes Shirley Scott's Queen Talk and Sonny Stitt's Boppin' in Baltimore, Bishop's Bish at the Bank will open a lot of listeners' ears to one of the less-heralded fixtures of mid-century jazz. Who knows how much music is still languishing in the vault of the Left Bank Jazz Society? If it is there, count on Feldman and Weeds to find it. We are the better off for it, to be sure.

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