By Nick DeRiso
Drew Paralic is that most unusual of things, a jazz pianist and composer who has released an album of originals played by others. Having taken up the instrument too late, he says, to approach the mastery of deeply appreciated influences like Bill Evans and Thelonious Monk, Paralic instead decided to focus on writing and arranging music.
Paralic authored or collaborated on each of the 12 tracks that make up his new release Roll With It, Baby, and then assembled a pleasingly varied group of crack musicians for his Brooklyn-based sessions. The results, presented in a trio or quartet format for all but two piano-only pieces, are a straightforward swinging reminder of how small-group jazz can work as both a danceable distraction and absorbing art. A revolving group of players interprets the songs, with only reed player Mike McGinnis (Lonnie Plaxico) and bassist Elias Bailey (Sam Newsome, Steve Wilson, Jason Marsalis, the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra) as constants, and that variety adds another layer of musical complexity to the proceedings.
Paralic begins with “Steps," an interesting combination of drummer Vinnie Sperrazza's polyrhythms and West Coast cool. Paralic's work has plenty of open spaces for collaboration and, as McGinnis, Bailey and then pianist Art Hirahara solo, each adds his own shades and colors to Paralic's work. McGinnis, on clarinet this time, is particularly impressive during a final sparring session with Sperrazza, who brilliantly bashes away as McGinnis (featured in the attached photo and video) makes a series of stabbing runs.
“Sweet Standard" replaces pianist Hirahara with David Pearl, who plays with an intellectual authority that recalls Oscar Peterson. McGinnis switches to saxophone, adding a darker sensuality and then a furious, conversational tone as his solo unfolds. Even without the determined rhythms of Paralic's initial track, and despite the softness implied in its name, “Sweet Standard" finds a way to sound forceful and compact.
McGinnis' broad, romantic sound is the centerpiece of “When Midnight Rolls Around," a dimly lit ballad. Paralic is aiming for the nocturnal mysteries of Duke Ellington's longer pieces, and he largely achieves it with additional, softer assists from Pearl and Bailey. Paralic's original quartet returns for “The Sweetest Crime," a gently rolling ballad that catches a groove about a minute and a half in. Sperrazza comes alive first, hitting a hard high-hat reminiscent of Art Blakey in all of his hard-bop glory. Hirahara begins an insistent signature and, just like that, McGinnis' searching melancholy transforms into a brightly swaying cry of joy.
“How Bill's Heart Sings," with lyrics by Thomas Raniszewski, introduces vocalist Laura Kenyon. It's one of the rare times that Paralic's group stumbles. While she has an oaken style that recalls Rosemary Clooney, the track has a cabaret atmosphere that feels jarring. A pair of subsequent songs display the impressive range of Paralic's reed player, and gets Roll With It, Baby back on track. “Twilight at Noon," inspired by the lyrics of John Raymond Pollard, allows McGinnis to unfurl a warmly assertive sound on the saxophone. McGinnis follows that with a series of whispering entreaties on “Too Much Joyce," coaxed perhaps to quieter places still by a delicate accompaniment from Hirahara that recalls Bill Evans.
“Dizzying New People Color," a touching ballad which builds off a poem by a late friend of Paralic's, sounds at first something like “Color My World" by Chicago. Pearl follows McGinnis stride for stride, though, as this lonely narrative ultimately brightens into a celebration of life. There is a tangy R&B flavor to the next trio of cuts, beginning with “The Arrival" which has a Lee Morgan vibe. That vibe slows but doesn't change much on “Drew's Blues," a solo feature for pianist James Newman. Bailey charges out with a plucky verve on the title track, which is subtitled “Mill Basin Blues," before he's rejoined by McGinnis, this time bringing a saloon-style sizzle on the sax.
Pearl then downshifts Roll With It, Baby on Paralic's concluding “Prelude d'Ennui," a shattering solo lament filled with hard-won truths and frayed emotions. It's final, quiet reminder of how consistently intriguing Paralic's thoughts are, even if they are coming out through someone else's voice.
Drew Paralic is that most unusual of things, a jazz pianist and composer who has released an album of originals played by others. Having taken up the instrument too late, he says, to approach the mastery of deeply appreciated influences like Bill Evans and Thelonious Monk, Paralic instead decided to focus on writing and arranging music.
Paralic authored or collaborated on each of the 12 tracks that make up his new release Roll With It, Baby, and then assembled a pleasingly varied group of crack musicians for his Brooklyn-based sessions. The results, presented in a trio or quartet format for all but two piano-only pieces, are a straightforward swinging reminder of how small-group jazz can work as both a danceable distraction and absorbing art. A revolving group of players interprets the songs, with only reed player Mike McGinnis (Lonnie Plaxico) and bassist Elias Bailey (Sam Newsome, Steve Wilson, Jason Marsalis, the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra) as constants, and that variety adds another layer of musical complexity to the proceedings.
Paralic begins with “Steps," an interesting combination of drummer Vinnie Sperrazza's polyrhythms and West Coast cool. Paralic's work has plenty of open spaces for collaboration and, as McGinnis, Bailey and then pianist Art Hirahara solo, each adds his own shades and colors to Paralic's work. McGinnis, on clarinet this time, is particularly impressive during a final sparring session with Sperrazza, who brilliantly bashes away as McGinnis (featured in the attached photo and video) makes a series of stabbing runs.
“Sweet Standard" replaces pianist Hirahara with David Pearl, who plays with an intellectual authority that recalls Oscar Peterson. McGinnis switches to saxophone, adding a darker sensuality and then a furious, conversational tone as his solo unfolds. Even without the determined rhythms of Paralic's initial track, and despite the softness implied in its name, “Sweet Standard" finds a way to sound forceful and compact.
McGinnis' broad, romantic sound is the centerpiece of “When Midnight Rolls Around," a dimly lit ballad. Paralic is aiming for the nocturnal mysteries of Duke Ellington's longer pieces, and he largely achieves it with additional, softer assists from Pearl and Bailey. Paralic's original quartet returns for “The Sweetest Crime," a gently rolling ballad that catches a groove about a minute and a half in. Sperrazza comes alive first, hitting a hard high-hat reminiscent of Art Blakey in all of his hard-bop glory. Hirahara begins an insistent signature and, just like that, McGinnis' searching melancholy transforms into a brightly swaying cry of joy.
“How Bill's Heart Sings," with lyrics by Thomas Raniszewski, introduces vocalist Laura Kenyon. It's one of the rare times that Paralic's group stumbles. While she has an oaken style that recalls Rosemary Clooney, the track has a cabaret atmosphere that feels jarring. A pair of subsequent songs display the impressive range of Paralic's reed player, and gets Roll With It, Baby back on track. “Twilight at Noon," inspired by the lyrics of John Raymond Pollard, allows McGinnis to unfurl a warmly assertive sound on the saxophone. McGinnis follows that with a series of whispering entreaties on “Too Much Joyce," coaxed perhaps to quieter places still by a delicate accompaniment from Hirahara that recalls Bill Evans.
“Dizzying New People Color," a touching ballad which builds off a poem by a late friend of Paralic's, sounds at first something like “Color My World" by Chicago. Pearl follows McGinnis stride for stride, though, as this lonely narrative ultimately brightens into a celebration of life. There is a tangy R&B flavor to the next trio of cuts, beginning with “The Arrival" which has a Lee Morgan vibe. That vibe slows but doesn't change much on “Drew's Blues," a solo feature for pianist James Newman. Bailey charges out with a plucky verve on the title track, which is subtitled “Mill Basin Blues," before he's rejoined by McGinnis, this time bringing a saloon-style sizzle on the sax.
Pearl then downshifts Roll With It, Baby on Paralic's concluding “Prelude d'Ennui," a shattering solo lament filled with hard-won truths and frayed emotions. It's final, quiet reminder of how consistently intriguing Paralic's thoughts are, even if they are coming out through someone else's voice.
