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LINER NOTES BY DAVID BERGER 

 

I was doing the New York Times crossword puzzle a few days ago, and there it was again:  “Duke Ellington’s ‘Take The ____.”  I get that “A” Train was popularized by Ellington as his theme song, but isn’t it about time for the world to catch on to possibly the greatest relationship in all of music.  Ellington never failed to mention that his band’s signature piece was composed and arranged by Billy Strayhorn, but audiences didn’t want to hear it.  They saw Ellington—the urbane, classy pianist and bandleader.  They never saw the shy diminutive Swee’ Pea.  And so it is only fitting and long overdue that Nancy Valentine treats us to an entire CD of a dozen of Strayhorn’s songs.   

 

In addition to Strays’ classic subway train ride, this collection also avoids the other frequently performed, but most uncommon, Lush Life.  Nine of these lesser-known songs have lyrics by Strayhorn.  When Ellington hired Strays in 1938, part of the job description was to write lyrics.  Unfortunately, this immense talent took a back seat as soon as the Maestro realized that he could depend on his alter ego to compose and arrange whatever musical material the band needed.  If you don’t recognize the titles of Pretty Girl and the last three songs in this collection, it’s because they were originally instrumental classics.  The lyrics were added later.   

 

Although every one of these songs was composed between 50 and 80 years ago, in the hands of Nancy and the musicians they sound as if they were written today.  From the tongue-in-cheek You Better Know It to the romantic Pretty Girl (aka: The Star-Crossed Lovers) and the heartbreaking life-and-death struggle of My Flame Burns Blue (aka: Blood Count), each song has its own unique well-drawn character with challenging melodic contours and chromatic harmonies—a virtual graduate course for aspiring songwriters—those who aspire to write the most sophisticated music.  Billy Strayhorn was the poster boy for sophistication in every way.  Ellington described himself as a primitive.  Strays exuded sophistication sartorially, gastronomically, behaviorally and artistically. 

 

There is a reason why these 12 songs are rarely if ever performed: they are difficult to sing and play.  The music is complex and demands a high level of musicianship and preparation.  Kudos to Nancy, arrangers John di Martino and Tamir Hendelman and all the performers for treating this music with respect and creativity.  It is no easy task to resist being intimidated by such superior material.  How often do we hear bland, mediocre versions of great songs because the arrangers and players were afraid to put their own personal stamp on a masterpiece?   

 

The 14 different top-flight brand name jazz musicians appearing on this collection back Nancy up in different combinations ranging from the piano/voice duo of Pretty Girl to the septet on You’re The One.  Nancy’s concept for the project was to create a diverse assortment of approaches treating each song individually and let her voice and Strayhorn’s songs be the glue that binds it all together.  At times she becomes one of the instruments, but she is always listening to them and interacting in a way that you rarely hear singers do. 

 

Over the last few years Nancy has been obsessed with the Strayhorn repertoire.  She performs it whenever and wherever she can.  In the process it’s become her music.   

 

David Berger 

Composer, Arranger, Band Leader, Producer, Author 

LINER NOTES BY BILL KIRCHNER

 

On December 1, 1938, a 23-year-old pianist-composer-arranger was introduced to Duke Ellington backstage at Pittsburgh’s Stanley Theatre, where the Ellington Orchestra was playing a week-long engagement.  Ellington was so impressed by the youngster’s playing and his writing samples that he hired Strayhorn to work—in a then-undefined way—with his organization.  This was the beginning of a uniquely close association between the two that lasted until Strayhorn’s death from esophageal cancer in 1967.

 

During Strayhorn’s lifetime, his musical relationship with Ellington was often described with terms like “right-hand man” or “alter ego.”  Or in descriptions like this: “Ellington and Strayhorn wrote so much alike that when they collaborated, it was hard to know where one’s work ended and the other’s began.”  None of these bromides did Strayhorn’s work justice or gave him his due as a major jazz composer with his own distinctive style and vocabulary.  It’s only in recent decades, with the publication of books on Strayhorn by David Hajdu and Walter van de Leur, that Strayhorn’s work has been getting the credit it deserves.

 

If there’s a Cinderella-like quality to Strayhorn’s beginnings with Ellington, then this quality also extends to Nancy Valentine’s career as a singer and her involvement with Strayhorn’s music.  She spent much of her adulthood as a journeywoman trumpeter who occasionally sang background vocals in some of the bands she performed with; eventually, she evolved into a strong lead vocalist.  However, it was only when one of her teachers, the remarkable jazz and lead trumpeter Bobby Shew, observed that she had “a wonderful voice for jazz” did she begin to explore her potential as a jazz singer.  The next big step occurred when jazz pianist-composer-arranger John di Martino introduced her to a song called, "A Flower Is A Lovesome Thing", by a composer then unfamiliar to her—Billy Strayhorn.   Di Martino then showed her another Strayhorn opus, “Something To Live For”, and further suggested that she record an entire album of Strayhorn’s music.  Nancy needed no further urging, and the result is the CD you have in your possession.

 

In order to make this recording, Nancy plunged deeply into researching Strayhorn’s music.  This is emphatically NOT a collection of “Strayhorn’s greatest hits.”  To the contrary, at least half of her choices here have rarely been performed.  As she put it: “You can’t sleep when you are singing Strayhorn, because he doesn’t write in a pattern like other composers.  It doesn’t repeat.  There are chromatics in there that surprise people.  It is amazing music, and you must keep awake.”

 

And so, to the music:

 

“You Better Know It” comes from the 1957 Ellington TV spectacular A Drum Is A Woman and was originally sung by Ozzie Bailey.  The song is jointly credited to Ellington and Strayhorn and because (as musicologist Walter van de Leur states) no score has surfaced, we don’t know who did what.  My guess is that Duke wrote the melody and especially the lyric, and the original orchestration is Strayhorn-like.  Here, Nancy gives the lyric the sass it deserves, and her scat vocal shows her background as a trumpeter.  Harry Allen and Joe Magnarelli both contribute solos, with Harry’s tenor saxophone sounding not unlike that of Paul Gonsalves on the Ellington versions.

 

“So This Is Love” was written in 1934 by a teenaged Strayhorn, and both music and lyric are astonishingly mature for one so young.   The piece has more of the flavor of a classical art song than a pop tune. (The same can be said of the even more challenging “Lush Life,” which Strayhorn wrote at around the same time.) The song was finally recorded in 1999 by the Dutch Jazz Orchestra.  Nancy finds all of the emotion in this song without resorting to histrionics; her skill as a lyric-interpreter is truly remarkable here.  Once again, Harry Allen evokes Paul Gonsalves to fitting effect.

 

 

Strayhorn wrote both words and music to “Oo! You Make Me Tingle” in 1954 as part of a novice attempt by him and Luther Henderson to write a Broadway musical; it was entitled Rose-Colored Glasses.  This song was later performed by Strayhorn’s close friend Lena Horne during a brief period when Strayhorn was playing in a trio backing Horne.   John di Martino’s Latin-tinged arrangement cleverly gives Nancy a groove she can lock in with, and Harry Allen provides some fine Stan Getz-tinged backing.

 

Composed in 1955, “You’re The One” was not recorded until 1993 by Lena Horne.  At one time, Nancy studied acting and even lived in Los Angeles pursuing an acting career.  Like Horne, she’s a compelling actress, and that frequently shows up here, but she never “overacts.”  Tamir Hendelman’s skillful four-horn chart gives Nancy a great cushion without smothering her; at times, she effortlessly doubles the lead line.  Last, we hear two brief but typically masterly solos from Dick Oatts and Gary Smulyan on alto and baritone saxophones, respectively.

 

“A Flower Is A Lovesome Thing” is the first song in this program that can in any way be regarded as a standard, though it’s hardly been overdone.  Strayhorn wrote it in 1939 and premiered it on record with an Ellington small group featuring the great alto saxophonist Johnny Hodges.  It’s also been entitled “Nocturne” and “Passion.”  Nancy gives an appropriately gentle reading to a gentle song, and she literally ends on a high note.  Joe Magnarelli’s trumpet solo admirably sustains the mood.

 

Something To Live For from 1937, received its debut two years later on an Ellington recording featuring vocalist Jean Eldridge.  It was more memorably covered in the mid-1960s by Ella Fitzgerald with the Ellington Orchestra, and also by Strayhorn himself on one of his rare albums as a leader, The Peaceful Side.  Nancy wisely includes the verse, without which this song of yearning seems incomplete.  In an interesting and unusual touch (inspired by the late singer Mark Murphy), she ends the track with a line from the verse.  Harry Allen (in a Ben Webster-ish vein) and cornetist Warren Vaché enhance the proceedings with brief solos and obbligatos.

 

“Wounded Love” (recorded instrumentally by Johnny Hodges as “Three and Six”) is another one of Strayhorn’s quasi-art songs.  He wrote it in 1953 for the score of a musical version of Federico Garcia Lorca’s The Love of Don Perlimplin for Belisa in Their Garden.  Nancy’s once-through reading is simple and full of feeling—the mark of a mature performer.

 

“Maybe” from 1961, is another song written for Lena Horne. (David Hajdu and Walter van de Leur cite two different recordings she made of it.)  Nancy’s version begins with a duet between her and drummer Victor Jones, and Jones in fact invigorates the entire performance.  John di Martino adds some nice Dukish touches in his solo, and Harry Allen’s solo is appropriately earthy.   Nancy’s ending will leave you with a smile.  

 

“Pretty Girl” has an interesting history.  It was first recorded in 1955 by an Ellington small group (featuring Johnny Hodges, and including Strayhorn on piano) as  “Pretty Little Girl.”  The album, produced by Norman Granz, was called Creamy.   Two years later, Strayhorn changed the title to “The Star-Crossed Lovers” (i.e., Romeo and Juliet) and included it in the landmark Ellington album Such Sweet Thunder.  Under any of those three titles, it’s an unforgettably poignant piece of music, and Nancy and John di Martino give it the treatment it deserves.   John’s piquant harmonies are remarkably reminiscent of Strayhorn’s own playing.

 

Strayhorn wrote the arrangement of “Blood Count” on his deathbed in the hospital. It was his last of numerous features for Johnny Hodges, and Hodges’ recording of it with the Ellington band—made for a memorial album of Strayhorn’s music—is gripping beyond description.  The lyric by pop singer Elvis Costello was added later under the title “My Flame Burns Blue.”  From both musical and dramatic standpoints, this is one of the most difficult and demanding pieces in this collection, and Nancy more than rises to the occasion,  as do her accompanists.

 

“Upper Manhattan Medical Group” refers to the medical practice of Strayhorn’s and Ellington’s personal physician and good friend, Dr. Arthur Logan.  This 1956 piece is one of Strayhorn’s most harmonically sophisticated, and it’s fitting that the Ellington band’s best-known recording of it included a guest soloist named Dizzy Gillespie.  Nancy’s wordless vocal (can you imagine a lyric to this? I can’t) shows her skill as a scat singer, both singing the melody and improvising.   She, Hendelman, Vaché  and Allen all acquit themselves with distinction on these far-from-easy chord changes.  (For a textbook example of how Strayhorn’s harmonic concept differed from Ellington’s, look no further.)

 

Concluding the album in the most fitting way possible is “Thank You For Everything” which dates back to 1945 and acquired several different titles, the best-known of which is “Lotus Blossom.”  Lyricist Edmund Anderson was a long-time member of Ellington’s inner circle.  The good taste and sensitivity that Nancy and her associates exhibit throughout this disc are never more in evidence than on this eloquent performance.

 

It’s become almost a cliché to describe a project like this as a “labor of love,” but it would be hard to find a more apt description of Nancy Valentine’s debut recording.    This is a CD that will be difficult for her to follow, but I can’t wait to hear her try.

 

Bill Kirchner

 

 

(Bill Kirchner is a composer-arranger, saxophonist, bandleader, jazz historian, record and radio producer, and educator.)

 

For further reading, the following books are recommended:

David Hajdu, Lush Life:  A Biography of Billy Strayhorn.

Walter van de Leur, Something To Live For:  The Music of Billy Strayhorn.

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