Bill Evans: What Is There to Say?

If there's a single song that represents a turning point in the career of pianist Bill Evans from soloist to leader, it might be What Is There to Say? from his trio album Everybody Digs Bill Evans (Riverside). Recorded in December 1958, the song provides a glimpse of what's to come in Evans's development as a leader. Up until this point, Evans had largely been a sideman, a quiet, cerebral accompanist whose job was to support and frame the session leader and take relatively uneventful solos.

There were moments of singular beauty along the way, of course. All About Rosie from the Brandeis Jazz Festival album in June 1957 comes to mind, when Evans's solo left members of the Gunther Schuller Orchestra with their jaws hanging open. Or On Green Dolphin Street in May 1958 with the Miles Davis Sextet, which combined Evans rich elegance with his swinging improvisation. But What Is There to Say? was different. Evans seems to know where he wants to go with the song from the start, boldly shifting the tone and texture several times.

What sets this song apart for me is that it functions as a torn conversation with one's self. Evans opens the song alone and is enormously quiet. After eight measures, Evans is joined by Sam Jones (b) and Philly Joe Jones (d). The song grows a little louder and more urgent as though trying to make a argumentative point. Then it settles back into a quiet groove again and resolves.

At the bridge, Evans creates an lush passage with block chords before sprinkling bell-like notes between widely spread chords to echo the melody line. Then he builds the tension again, as if unsure which tact to use as he thrashes out a dilemma. At the end, Evans finishes with a soft passage, supported by Philly Joe Jones applying brushes to the cymbal for shimmer. In Evans's hands, he treats the lyric as if there's nothing left to say in a relationship, and by the end he's closing the door on the other party.

Interestingly, the song originally was written by Yip Harburg and Vernon Duke for the Ziegfeld Follies of 1933 to illustrate a battle one has with one's heart over moving forward in a relationship, not terminating it. Here's Rudy Valle singing the song in 1933...

 

Here's Chris Connor in 1954 with Ellis Larkins on piano...

 

Here's Beverly Kenney in 1957, also with Ellis Larkins...

 

Here's Red Garland with John Coltrane in 1957...

 

And here's Bill Evans in 1958 on Everybody Digs Bill Evans...