Chet Baker Blue Room: The 1979 VARA Studio Sessions in Holland
he cover of this two-LP set, which will be a hot commodity on Record Store Day, April 22, shows a clean-shaven Chet Baker smiling. His leather fedora and tweed blazer are a far cry from the scraggly hair and unbuttoned shirt of the Baker we see in other photos, and metaphorically hear in some of the music, from that time, less than a decade before he would die after a fall from a hotel window. As a singer, he wasn't Sinatra, who wanted to feel every word he sang. Like Ella Fitzgerald, Baker possessed perfect enunciation, but his appeal came from his cool detachment and matinee-idol good looks, not emotional engagement with the lyrics. On trumpet, he was the epitome of West Coast reserve, although he sometimes reminds me of Miles Davis, specifically in the way he elongated phrases to increase drama. This is another find from the prolific record producer Zev Feldman, "the jazz detective"; there's a photo of him online, sitting in front of a wall of LPs and smiling -- he clearly loves records. It collects music from a pair of sessions recorded for Dutch radio in 1979; there's an April 10 session, comprising the first three sides, in which Baker is backed by pianist Phil Markowitz, bassist Jean-Louis Rassinfosse, and drummer Charles Rice; on the final side, recorded on November 9, Baker plays with pianist Frans Elsen, bassist Victor Kaihatu, and drummer Eric Ineke. For both sessions, Baker plays trumpet and, on three tracks, sings, including two songs he's known for: "Oh, You Crazy Moon" and "Candy," his vocals for which are sweet and laid-back -- just what you expect. The choice of material is diverse, everything from the American Songbook ("Old Devil Moon") to jazz classics ("Nardis") and even a Baker original ("Blue Gilles"). None of it ploughs new ground, Baker's playing and singing raising few goose bumps; he's understated and rather workmanlike. This isn't meant as a slight; Baker was not one to overplay a solo, and when you buy an album like this, you want a steady dose of the headliner as you expect him to be, and that's what you get. The accompaniment is solid, but if you are like me, you'll be anticipating Baker's entry after any mid-length piano or bass run. Bernie Grundman did the mastering and cut the lacquers from the original tapes. The sound is very good -- vivid and lithe, not a hard edge to be heard. The Memphis Record Pressing LPs are flat and quiet, and the booklet, with essays from Randy Brecker and Enrico Rava, is an incredible bonus and resource. It's easy to become blasé about this level of quality when you're buying only LPs produced today, but in the old days, when LPs were the de facto media for recorded music, their variability made nearly every purchase an iffy proposition. The back of the sleeve indicates 5000 total copies, but the Record Store Day website indicates 3500. Either way, you'll need to be in line early or risk paying a much higher price to eBay scalpers. Such is the trajectory of limited-edition LPs nowadays. Chet Baker's life and career comprise the ultimate jazz "what could have been" story, because of his trumpet and voice, and his drug addiction, leading critics, biographers and fans to ponder if he was self-destructive or merely tragic. He was both, of course, but the distinction is only worth considering because of the music he made. This set, which captured him in fine later form, is a reminder of his two-pronged talent. |
© The Audio Beat Nothing on this site may be reprinted or reused without permission.