Steve Grossman

In any case, ‘emergence’ hardly seems the right word to describe Grossman's precipitate entrance on to the jazz stage. ‘Eruption’ might do better. When Wayne Shorter left Miles Davis in 1969, Grossman was his replacement, and during an almost year long tenure with Miles he enjoyed the kind of exposure that most players never achieve in a lifetime, let alone at the age of 18.
Mark Gilbert

«Of late, certain writers have dwelt on the similarities in style between Steve Grossman and fellow saxophonist Sonny Rollins, and in view of the title and content of Steve’s last recording for Red Records (Way Out East), this would seem a reasonable comparison.
Not only does the album pay tribute to Newk with a word play on Rollins’ own Way Out West LP, but also features a typical late fiftieslearly sixties Rollins line up of tenor, bass and drums. Furthermore, the materiai includes some unmistakable reminders of Rollins’ kind of repertoire, such as There Will Never Be Another You and Bye Bye Blackbird. Reviewing Way Out East in the November 1985 issue of Jazz Journal, Barry McRae observed that ‘Grossman’s debt to the Rollins style is never in doubt’. Around the same time, Gary C. Vercelli praised Grossman’s playing at the 1985 Umbria Jazz Festival. He wrote in Coda, the Canadian jazz magazine, that Grossman sounded ‘as inspired and impassioned as Sonny Rollins did during his less commercial formative years’, adding that he was an ‘emerging talent’.
Well, nobody could dispute that these perceptive
critics were close to the truth when they compared Rollins and Grossman. However, they omitted to tell us the whole truth, which is that while Grossman might have a great fondness for Rollins’ style, he actually works from a much broader musical palette. This fine session gives clear notice of this fact, as well as casting doubt on Vercelli’s notion that Grossman is an ’emerging talent’. We can plainly hear that
he had already arrived when this record was cut in May 1985- if not long before.
In any case, ‘emergence’ hardly seems the right word to describe Grossman’s precipitate entrance on to the jazz stage. ‘Eruption’ might do better. When Wayne Shorter left Miles Davis in 1969, Grossman was his replacement, and during an almost year long tenure with Miles he enjoyed the kind of exposure that most players never achieve in a lifetime, let alone at the age of 18. Such an auspicious debut might seem like a hard act to follow, but Grossman’s subsequent sojourns with such luminaries as Elvin Jones (1971- 3), Gene Perla’s Stone Alliance (’75) and Chick Corea furnish further examples of a talent that was quick to mature and soon much in demand. Love ls The Thing finds Steve continuing to keep the best company, this time in the form of one of the most highly regarded trios in contemporary acoustic jazz. Pianist Cedar Walton developed from being a mainstay of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers in the early sixties to become a distinctive stylist in his own right. His gift for melodie improvisation can be heard on various other releases on Red Records, not least the recently issued Cedar Walton Quintet Live. Drummer Billy Higgins has also recorded a good deal for Red Records, and has long been associated with Cedar Walton. Bassist David Williams continues to extend the tradition of solid, swinging bass playing epitomised by Ron Carter. Together, they have an empathy which guarantees firm support for any front line soloist.
This session could be subtitled ‘The Ballads Album’, since most of the tunes here were designed to be executed at slow tempo. However, the reality is different – and the result more varied and dramatic than if the band had chosen to record. an album of fast paced material.
The opening selection, Naima, reminds us of that other profound influence on contemporary saxo­phonists, John Coltrane, who wrote this poignant and haunting theme for his wife. Grossman han­ dies it with great care and sensitivity, ornaments it with some effective trills, and turns in a solo which shows he has not only absorbed Trane’s vernacular, but adapted it to meet his own needs. Note also Higgins’ crisp polyrhythms, Williams’ apposite use of arco bass and Walton’s carefully wrought solo, which is full of new melodies.
Easy To Love confirms Grossman’s respect for Rollins and is treated in a way that would not be unfamiliar to that saxophone colossus. The theme is simply stated by just tenor and bass, using a 2/4 feel, before a swinging groove is established and Walton produces a relaxed and soulful solo. The track then builds to a powerful climax in Grossman’s hands: he takes a sensual, swag­gering solo before restating the theme and stret­ ching out aver an extended coda based on a II-V­IV-VI turnaround, during which he manages to encompass and synthesise just about every mo­ dem jazz saxophone style. Sharp-eared listeners will also catch the fleeting quote from Laura.
Both My Old Flame and Easy Living adhere more faithfully to the traditional ballad format, the former in particular a perfect showcase for the grittier side of Grossman’s saxophone voice.
lf any one of these selections best illustrates the variety that the ballad can offer, it is I Didn’t Know What Time It Was, which steps up through at least three levels of intensity before develo­ping into a breakneck specimen of hard bop, with steaming solos from Grossman and Walton. Grossman’s work is outstanding throughout, but it seems as if he was keeping breath in reserve for his own composition, 415 Central Park West, which is dedicated to an address which houses several famous jazz men. The tune is a 32-bar form, and the harmony and arrangement echo the writing style of yet another modem saxophone model, Wayne Shorter. Steve begins his solo as he means to go on, announcing his presence with a scorching declamation.
To round off this ‘ballad album’ in an appropriate manner and bring us gently down to earth, no better choice could have been made than What’s New, which closely rivals Naima for melancholy beauty. We hear some fine interplay between Cedar and Steve, and Steve forces some quite unlikely ideas across this potent chord sequence, including a quote from Charlie Parker’s Cool Blues, while Cedar proves yet again to be an extraordinarily thoughtful soloist.
And so we come to the close of a performance by a group of players who, though they fall into the broad sweep of “modem mainstream”, cannot be more accurately pigeon-holed. ln fairness, perhaps we should let Gary C. Vercelli qualify his earlier comments about Grossman at Umbria: ‘Grossman’s command of the saxophone’s historic vernacular seemed, on this occasion at least, encyclopedic in scope’. You have before you the proof that this was no fluke». Love Is The Thing
Mark Gilbert

«Of late, certain writers have dwelt on the similarities in style between Steve Grossman and fellow saxophonist Sonny Rollins, and in view of the title and content of Steve’s last recording for Red Records (Way Out East), this would seem a reasonable comparison.
Not only does the album pay tribute to Newk with a word play on Rollins’ own Way Out West LP, but also features a typical late fiftieslearly sixties Rollins line up of tenor, bass and drums. Furthermore, the materiai includes some unmistakable reminders of Rollins’ kind of repertoire, such as There Will Never Be Another You and Bye Bye Blackbird. Reviewing Way Out East in the November 1985 issue of Jazz Journal, Barry McRae observed that ‘Grossman’s debt to the Rollins style is never in doubt’. Around the same time, Gary C. Vercelli praised Grossman’s playing at the 1985 Umbria Jazz Festival. He wrote in Coda, the Canadian jazz magazine, that Grossman sounded ‘as inspired and impassioned as Sonny Rollins did during his less commercial formative years’, adding that he was an ‘emerging talent’.
Well, nobody could dispute that these perceptive
critics were close to the truth when they compared Rollins and Grossman. However, they omitted to tell us the whole truth, which is that while Grossman might have a great fondness for Rollins’ style, he actually works from a much broader musical palette. This fine session gives clear notice of this fact, as well as casting doubt on Vercelli’s notion that Grossman is an ’emerging talent’. We can plainly hear that
he had already arrived when this record was cut in May 1985- if not long before.
In any case, ‘emergence’ hardly seems the right word to describe Grossman’s precipitate entrance on to the jazz stage. ‘Eruption’ might do better. When Wayne Shorter left Miles Davis in 1969, Grossman was his replacement, and during an almost year long tenure with Miles he enjoyed the kind of exposure that most players never achieve in a lifetime, let alone at the age of 18. Such an auspicious debut might seem like a hard act to follow, but Grossman’s subsequent sojourns with such luminaries as Elvin Jones (1971- 3), Gene Perla’s Stone Alliance (’75) and Chick Corea furnish further examples of a talent that was quick to mature and soon much in demand. Love ls The Thing finds Steve continuing to keep the best company, this time in the form of one of the most highly regarded trios in contemporary acoustic jazz. Pianist Cedar Walton developed from being a mainstay of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers in the early sixties to become a distinctive stylist in his own right. His gift for melodie improvisation can be heard on various other releases on Red Records, not least the recently issued Cedar Walton Quintet Live. Drummer Billy Higgins has also recorded a good deal for Red Records, and has long been associated with Cedar Walton. Bassist David Williams continues to extend the tradition of solid, swinging bass playing epitomised by Ron Carter. Together, they have an empathy which guarantees firm support for any front line soloist.
This session could be subtitled ‘The Ballads Album’, since most of the tunes here were designed to be executed at slow tempo. However, the reality is different – and the result more varied and dramatic than if the band had chosen to record. an album of fast paced material.
The opening selection, Naima, reminds us of that other profound influence on contemporary saxo­phonists, John Coltrane, who wrote this poignant and haunting theme for his wife. Grossman han­ dies it with great care and sensitivity, ornaments it with some effective trills, and turns in a solo which shows he has not only absorbed Trane’s vernacular, but adapted it to meet his own needs. Note also Higgins’ crisp polyrhythms, Williams’ apposite use of arco bass and Walton’s carefully wrought solo, which is full of new melodies.
Easy To Love confirms Grossman’s respect for Rollins and is treated in a way that would not be unfamiliar to that saxophone colossus. The theme is simply stated by just tenor and bass, using a 2/4 feel, before a swinging groove is established and Walton produces a relaxed and soulful solo. The track then builds to a powerful climax in Grossman’s hands: he takes a sensual, swag­gering solo before restating the theme and stret­ ching out aver an extended coda based on a II-V­IV-VI turnaround, during which he manages to encompass and synthesise just about every mo­ dem jazz saxophone style. Sharp-eared listeners will also catch the fleeting quote from Laura.
Both My Old Flame and Easy Living adhere more faithfully to the traditional ballad format, the former in particular a perfect showcase for the grittier side of Grossman’s saxophone voice.
lf any one of these selections best illustrates the variety that the ballad can offer, it is I Didn’t Know What Time It Was, which steps up through at least three levels of intensity before develo­ping into a breakneck specimen of hard bop, with steaming solos from Grossman and Walton. Grossman’s work is outstanding throughout, but it seems as if he was keeping breath in reserve for his own composition, 415 Central Park West, which is dedicated to an address which houses several famous jazz men. The tune is a 32-bar form, and the harmony and arrangement echo the writing style of yet another modem saxophone model, Wayne Shorter. Steve begins his solo as he means to go on, announcing his presence with a scorching declamation.
To round off this ‘ballad album’ in an appropriate manner and bring us gently down to earth, no better choice could have been made than What’s New, which closely rivals Naima for melancholy beauty. We hear some fine interplay between Cedar and Steve, and Steve forces some quite unlikely ideas across this potent chord sequence, including a quote from Charlie Parker’s Cool Blues, while Cedar proves yet again to be an extraordinarily thoughtful soloist.
And so we come to the close of a performance by a group of players who, though they fall into the broad sweep of “modem mainstream”, cannot be more accurately pigeon-holed. ln fairness, perhaps we should let Gary C. Vercelli qualify his earlier comments about Grossman at Umbria: ‘Grossman’s command of the saxophone’s historic vernacular seemed, on this occasion at least, encyclopedic in scope’. You have before you the proof that this was no fluke». Love Is The Thing
Mark Gilbert