Marc Seales: People & Places

When planning an album, one good idea can make a world of difference. If, for example, a trio is in place but a horn is needed to make it a quartet, asking the incomparable Ernie Watts to fill that chair is always a good idea. That is what Jazz Hall of Fame pianist Marc Seales has done on People & Places, at least his twenty-second album, leading various groups in a productive career that has spanned more than four decades.

Even though Seales' name is on the marquee, Watts takes a back seat to no one, and is arguably the focal point on all save one number ("Prelude," on which Seales plays unaccompanied), and Watts' mind-numbing runs through the keys are clearly among the session's high points. That is not meant to imply that Seales is any less than adroit when ad-libbing; his solos are consistently sharp and resourceful, as well they should be. While the rhythm section (bassist Bruce Lett, drummer Moyes Lucas Jr.) has its hands full keeping pace with Seales and especially Watts, they do a respectable job without ever losing balance or focus.

Having established the musicians' creds, it must be noted that the album's shortcomings—if indeed they may be called that—lie elsewhere. Seales' compositions (he wrote half a dozen tunes and co-wrote the closing "Home Light" with Watts) simply do not carry much weight, and most of the album's eight numbers linger well past their "sell by" date. With someone like Watts on board, it may have been better to emphasize swinging—which is what he does best—and cut him loose to unravel some cleaner riffs that land more naturally in his orbit. Even so, Watts adapts easily to any style and brightens every item on the menu.

"Rue Cler," one of Seales' favorite haunts in Paris, establishes the overall mood, unveiling an ethereal vibe wherein Seales plays an electric piano that sounds at times like a full string section. More heat is generated on Wayne Shorter's "Palladium," which leads to the lovely "Prelude" and equally heartfelt "For You My Dear," presumably written for one of Seales' loved ones. The soulful "Muddy Chicago Blues" salutes blues maestro Muddy Waters, while the name for the lyrical "Gingi" was suggested by Seales' daughter, who read it in a book. The mid-tempo "Ascending Truth" was written by Seales for saxophonist Don Lanphere, while Watts dedicated "Home Light" to drummer Leon "Ndugu" Chancler, who recorded an album by that name.

Even though more fireworks, especially from Watts, would have been welcome, this is an altogether pleasing quartet session—how could it be otherwise, considering the expertise of its personnel—and Watts' presence is worth at least another half-star.

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