Ronnie Mathews: doin’ the thang! (1963) Prestige

Selection: The Orient

Artists

Freddie Hubbard (trumpet) Charles Davis (baritone sax) Ronnie Mathews (piano) Eddie Khan (bass) Albert Heath (drums) recorded Rudy Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, NJ, December 17, 1963, the week running up to Christmas.

Obit:  PETER KEEPNEWS JULY 2, 2008:

Ronnie Mathews, a jazz pianist whose recorded output as a leader was sparse but whose résumé as a sideman with stars of jazz was substantial, died on Saturday in Brooklyn. He was 72. Mr. Matthews spent most of his career out of the spotlight. But he was highly valued by many noted fellow musicians for his harmonic acuity, his imagination as an improviser and his sensitivity as an accompanist. Two of Mr. Mathews’s longest-lasting associations were with the saxophonist Johnny Griffin, from 1978 to 1982, and the drummer T. S. Monk — son of the pianist and composer Thelonious Monk, one of Mr. Mathews’s acknowledged influences — for most of the 1990s.

He led his first recording session in 1963, the same year he began his first high-profile sideman job, with the drummer Max Roach’s group. Over the next two decades he worked regularly with a succession of well-known bandleaders but rarely led a band himself. And even after forming his own group in 1981, he continued to be heard most often, on record and in person, in a supporting role.”

He led his first recording session in 1963, the same year he began his first high-profile sideman job, with the drummer Max Roach’s group. Over the next two decades he worked regularly with a succession of well-known bandleaders but rarely led a band himself. And even after forming his own group in 1981, he continued to be heard most often, on record and in person, in a supporting role.”

Music

Not an organ soul-jazz album as its title and cover might suggest, but a serious post-bop modal outing, with a commercially mandatory  juke-box “Sidewinder”-type track opening side 1 tacked on.

Doin’ the Thang! may be Hubbard’s finest little-known date, with the innovation and fire he was employing in Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers at the time. The album includes little-known baritone saxophonist Charles Davis who recorded with Sun Ran the late 1950s. Drummer Albert “Tootie” Heath adds enormous drive to this hard bop quintet, but without the Blakey bombast. So what you have are subtle, inventive drum figures, which leave space for you to hear Mathews.

Four of Mathews’ originals—The Thang, Ichi Ban, The Orient and the effervescent Let’s Get Down. Each one is devilishly melodic and complex as hard bop arrangements go. His  Duke Ellington’s Prelude to a Kiss (with the horns out) is hugely impressive. The album would be worth buying for this track alone. Mathews’ risk-taking on the voicings and improvisational lines is lush and ambitious.

Doin’ the Thang! shows Mathews was much more than a sideman. Unfortunately, he came of age about five years too late, when jazz leadership sessions were fewer in number and the lion’s share went to already established legends. He would have to wait until late in his career for that shot. Mathews, as you will hear on Doin’ the Thang!, was much more than ordinary..

Likened to Sonny Clark but coming so directly from Bud… Bud all the way, the articulation, the time… But then, also, with this most authoritative feel for Monk – yet with such clarity of linear articulation at the same time.”

Vinyl: Prestige PR 7303

Mono, unusual for 1963, but the real Prestige deal.

Collector’s Corner

One of those interesting face to face shop situations where the seller knows more than you  about the alleged desirability of a record. Or so the price suggested. That usually only happens when there is some DJ angle, such a killer track, in a groove.

Ronnie Mathews wasn’t high on my “Twenty Records You Must Own Before You Die” list, but Hubbard at this time was always associated with interesting projects. It was original Prestige, and I was intrigued by the idea of pairing trumpet and baritone sax, without the tenor in the middle register. It is also one of the few times you find yourself looking at a real yellow/black Fireworks label. That old, buy it, you won’t see the like again kicks in.

The title “doin’ the thang” (all lower case) sounded a  bit desperate, jive street-talk. Losin’ the “g” is expected, but mostly, I don’t do thangs. I guess one must make allowances for the ’60s vernacular? At least it’s better than current American-English idiom I hear on the street: sentences punctuated with “like” every third word. Especially when the words around like are not that interesting anyway.

Anyway, I decided to, like, take the plunge, and I’m glad I did.