Gary Smulyan: Boss Baritones

The once-popular pairings of such incisive hard-blowing saxophonists as Johnny Griffin with Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis and Gene Ammons with Sonny Stitt constitute some of the inspiration behind the making of Boss Baritones. Incorporating material penned by Griffin, Davis, Illinois Jacquet, Don Byas and J.R. Monterose indicates a healthy respect for giants who may no longer be in vogue. We can dwell on the significance of these ties to the past if we like. However, they have little to do with the crux of this project: the inspiring collective and individual performances of a band comprised of New York City heavyweights, co-led by baritone saxophonists Gary Smulyan and Frank Basile.

Alhough the record features extensive blowing by all hands, the heads stand up to scrutiny. The throaty growl of the two baritones animating the melody of the set's opener, Matthew Gee's "Oh Ghee," speaks to a no-frills businesslike approach to the music. A seldom-visited selection from the Great American Songbook, Matty Malneck's "I'll Never Be the Same" resounds with positivity, partly because of Smulyan's exuberant way of handling his portions of the tune. The elegant assured take on Jacquet's "Black Velvet" is grounded by the congenial purr of the horns.

These selections work well partly because of a rhythm section that is never at a loss for interesting things to say in support of the horns. Throughout the disc's nine cuts, pianist Steve Ash fleshes out the melodies with clever chordal combinations. Mike Karn's bass lines are a veritable tower of strength, and drummer Aaron Seeber's shrewdly-chosen accents enliven every tune. They handle the easygoing adult tempo of "Black Velvet," the explosive swashbuckling bebop of Griffin's "Fifty-Six," plus everything else, with panache. When the trio steps front and center for Ash's solo on Davis's "Hey Lock," their symmetry is essential to the pianist's manner of sustaining momentum without rushing or jamming too much information into each measure.

Smulyan and Basile are experienced players who learned valuable lessons from extended stays in the reed sections of major jazz orchestras, as reflected in the two-horn arrangements of the heads. Neither feels the need to rely on protracted outbreaks of screaming, braying, or other devices of overemoting. Instead, plenty of excitement is packed into wise, logically-developed ideas. One virtue they have in common is the ability to thrive, as opposed to merely survive, in up-tempo romps, as evidenced by their cogent improvisations on "I'll Never Be The Same," "Fifty-Six" and Monterose's "Straight Ahead."

During Gene DePaul's and Don Raye's "Star Eyes," Basile offers a lesson in making an authoritative statement based on a familiar often-interpreted song and chord changes. Smulyan retains the essence of "Black Velvet" without quoting the tune and takes his sweet time before beginning to sprint. Basile consistently threatens to explode on the same track, yet holds himself in check for the most part. The solo is better for the tension inherent in this relative restraint. A long series of Smulyan's eight-bar trades with Seeber on "Fifty-Six" sounds as complete as any of his conventional multi-chorus solos.

Boss Baritones is a fine example of how jazz praxes originating in the mid-to-late 20th century can—in the right hands—sound fresh and invigorating in the present day.