A History Of Blue Note Records: 1947

Thelonious Monk Quintet – November 21 1947

The Record Changer November 1948 Volume 7 No. 11

Although I am a firm believer in graceful writing, and in le mot juste, and in picturesque speech, and whatnot, a lot of rhetoric can be dispensed with by calling this record, sirnply, a bitch. It is, too. I'm no
longer surprised by anything Monk does, because I'm just as firm a believer in him as I am in the virtues described above. However, blind faith is enhanced by all occasional miracle, as any snake-oil salesman will testify, and Epistrophy is that refreshing.

By some quirk, I always think of Monk as a carpenter, lustily doing everything wrong. battling his materials, and coming up with the most uniquely beautiful houses in the world. For one thing, he looks as if he were making something when he plays, sometimes scowling at the keyboard as if wondering where to drive the next nail.

The side in question has one of the most fascinating beginnings I know of—four distinct rhythms, by piano, vibraphone, bass and drums (Monk, Milt Jackson, John Simmons, Shadow Wilson, respectively), which build up a remarkable suspense that lasts for the whole three minutes. Jackson, a highly gifted musician, plays with Monk as if he could read his mind, and they get tasty help from the others on this lilting tune, which was written some time ago by Monk and Kenny Clarke. Monk's backing of Jackson is really something to hear, and there is a richness in all the unison work.

The difference between Monk's approach and anyone else's is felt even on a band side, like In Walked Bud, another of his piquant compositions. The sound isn't so intensely personal, of course, although Monk himself sometimes does more interesting things in his solo spots in a band than he does with a trio or quartet, but the men who play with him conspicuously avoid the bop clichés, a most fortunate condition. Art Blakey's exemplary drumming sticks out, as usual. He always provides something I've never heard before; in this case it's a piece of cymbal work at the opening of Monk's solo—sounds like it might be the doorbell to an opium rathskeller.

George Taitt plays lyrical trumpet, with a strange tone supplemented by Edmond Gregory's bawdy alto, and the two handle the ensembles beautifully — always with matchless backgrounds provided by Monk
and Blakey.

I would say that anyone really curious about the new sound in music need look no farther than Epistrophy. (Blue Notes 548)

Michael Cuscuna – More Genius of Thelonious Monk – BNJ-61011 Liner Notes

From Monk's first session, a month later, comes a dynamic alternate of "Who Knows", which was cut at the end of the session. The master used by Blue Note was the tune's first take early in the date. After all four tunes were finished, the band tried a few more takes of it, and this the eighth takes closed the day. Here Shihab solos first and his entrance is absolutely dazzling, worthy of Bird. Monk's solo is not as sparse as the master, but has the same feel and deliberateness and tension against rhythm.

Ira Gitler - Thelonious Monk – The Complete Genius Liner Notes BN-LA-579-H2 1975

It seems fitting that the album's keynote is sounded by 'Round Midnight, Monk's evergreen, most famous and most often recorded (by other musicians) composition. This was not its first recording (Cootie Williams' big band did it in 1944) nor was it Monk's first date for Blue Note (that had taken place a month earlier; see below). It however, its initial cutting by the composer and, as such, a simple yet ingenious arrangement by Thelonious in which he reveals the theme through the horns of Sahib Shihab and George "Flip" Taitt and his own piano. He improvises the bridge, never stating the standard bridge with which we later became familiar, and doesn't return to the actual theme. His introduction is a paraphrase of the one Gillespie used to introduce his February 1946 recording of the song but his ending is totally different than Dizzy's which like Gillespie's intro is still procedural for anyone playing Midnight. Monk's masterpiece has a rare, haunting beauty of the most enduring nature.

In Walked Bud, named for Powell, is Monk's recasting of Irving Berlin's Blue Skies. Flip Taitt, like everyone else, was obviously aware of Diz but his open tone and certain phraseology put one in mind of Freddie Webster. Shihab's acrid tone is distinctive and although elements of his work necessarily echo Charlie Parker he is far from a Bird imitator. I once wrote that Monk's music "leaves the openings that Art Blakey's special grammar punctuates so well." This can be heard here but is even more evident in the trio and quintet sessions of later vintage.

Monk's Mood, melancholia with hope a-bornin', is stated by the horns as Monk's piano comments. Who Knows, an up tempo romp, was once cited by Steve Lacy as a perfect example of how Monk fashions each one of his pieces with lapidarian skill. "It's a very intricate melody," he stated, "with the second eight differing from the first eight and going up to a really high point. And listen to the way the melody fits the chords. In Monk's pieces, that isn't a deliberate plan — making the melody fit the chords — but it is the way his tunes work out...perfectly and naturally."

Thelonious Monk and Sahib Shihab

Bob Blumenthal – Genius of Modern Music Volume One RVG CD Reissue Liner Notes – 2001

“In Walked Bud,” Monk’s tribute to Powell, is a startling reworking of the Irving Berlin standard “Blue Skies.” After the glorious piano chorus, Taitt and Shihab take 16 bars each, with the trumpeter displaying a fatter sound than most modern brass players and Shihab getting off a couple of choice quotes in his distinctively tart tone.

“Monk’s Mood,” originally titled “Feeling This Way Now” and possibly also known at one time as “Why Do You Evade The Facts?,” is such a perfect creation that many soloists on later versions were at a loss for what to add in their improvisations. While Shihab has been criticized for his sound on this performance, the wide alto sax vibrato was probably adopted at Monk’s request to enhance the melancholy mood.

“Who Knows” appears to have caused problems. Several unsuccessful retakes were attempted after the master was cut, and then the issued alternate was taped at the end of the session. Taitt, who fluffs the bridge badly on the master, swaps solo spots with Shihab on the alternate, where the saxophonist is particularly inspired. He finds space in both versions for a quote from “52nd Street Theme,” a composition credited to yet never recorded by Monk.

“Round Midnight” (or “‘Round About Midnight” as it was called on the original Blue Note 78) had been recorded by Cootie Williams in 1944 (he took a co-composer credit for his effort). DizzY Gillespie cut it two years later, with an introduction and coda that ultimately became as familiar as Monk’s melody. The introduction here is close to Gillespie’s, with Blakey stroking the patented off-beat accents gently in the background, but the coda is one of Monk’s grand descending arpeggios. The astringent horns are used sparingly to color Monk’s haunting Initial interpretation of his (and modern jazz’s) most famous ballad.

Down Beat 26 January 1951 Volume 18 Issue 2 Jack [Tracy]: Mood is a slow ballad that says nothing of import. On Who Knows?, it appears that no one does. Monk's lack of facility shows up glaringly at this faster tempo. Drummer Art Blakey tries valiantly to help. Both epics written by Monk. Rating: Mood—3; Who Knows —3 George [Hoefer]: Mood projects Monk's weird piano improvisations accompanied by the quintet. Taken at slow tempo, it has a languid effect. If you like Thelonious, and I do, the side will appeal. The other side in contrast is fast and spots a worthwhile Monk solo. Rating: Monk's Mood—7 • Who Knows?—6. Pat [Harris]: Knows {s another rollercoaster bop record, in a style which ought by now to be forgotten. Good examples of Art Blakey's technique, for those interested. Mood is excellent example of a pianist and a band, neither with much relation to each other. (Blue 1565.) Rating: Who Knows?—4; Monk’s Mood—4.