 by STEVE MCPHERSON
 Roy Haynes
Whereas
Dreyfus Records
dreyfusrecords.com
Last January, Roy Haynes came to town for a three-night stand with his Fountain of Youth Band at the Artists’ Quarter; St. Paul Mayor Chris Coleman declared it Roy Haynes Weekend. Whereas captures the highlights from Haynes’ long weekend at the historic jazz club and stands as a testament to the invigorating spirit of live jazz, not to mention the near boundless energy and enthusiasm of the octogenarian drummer. That’s right: the man was 80-years-young at the time of this recording. I have little doubt he could swing the pants off most jazz drummers a third of his age.
 Accompanied
by Jaleel Shaw on saxophones, Robert Rodriguez on bass and John Sullivan on
piano—their collective ages might exceed Haynes’ own—the
combo rips through a selection of jazz standards including Coltrane’s
“Mr. P.C.,” Chick Corea’s “Like This” and Joe
Henderson’s “Inner Urge.” This is trad jazz at its finest,
the live setting injecting a freshness into the proceedings that’s often
lacking in studio recordings of straight-ahead jazz in this day and age. For
me, the thing about genres that are as steeped in tradition as jazz and blues
is that a trip to the studio rounds off too many corners most of the time, at
least when it comes to the more mainstream manifestations of these styles, so
your best bet is to hit the clubs. Second best? A live recording.
Shaw bends and stretches his sax lines, playing with sweetness and a Wayne Shorter-like
melodic sense on the tenor in a medley of Thelonious Monk’s “Bemsha
Swing” and the Steve Swallow/Roy Haynes-penned “True or False,”
and with a dash of Sam Rivers’ wide interval stone-skipping on “Inner
Urge.”
Haynes himself is in fine fettle and seemingly capable of melding himself around
just about any feel you can think of, but that’s hardly surprising. Looking
again at his bio, I’m yet again floored by the arm-length list of jazz
giants he’s collaborated with since he began drumming professionally in
1942 (!): Charlie Christian, Lester Young, Bud Powell, Miles Davis, Charlie
Parker, Sarah Vaughan, Thelonious Monk, Eric Dolphy, Stan Getz, John Coltrane,
etc. The list goes on and on. Fortunately for us, Haynes himself is going on
and on, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. ||
 Stanton
Moore
III
Telarc Records
stantonmoore.com
New Orleans-native Stanton
Moore knows that pouring money and concrete into the Big Easy is only half
the battle when it comes to rebuilding his hometown. If San Fran was built on
rock and roll, then N.O. was built on soul and Moore, as the drummer for funk-jazz
combo Galactic and on his own, has wasted no time in pouring his own brand of
musical support onto record in the form of III, his debut for Telarc
Records. Nothing sinks funky music quicker than slick production, but Moore
neatly sidesteps any concerns about the sound of the disc as soon as his kick
drum/cross-snare groove snaps and pops its way out of the gate on album opener
“Poison Pushy.” The disc was recorded at historic Preservation Hall
in New Orleans and the kick is huge, the stick-on-snare sound comes closer to
claps, and the gritty organ bass melts in perfectly with the clipped and fuzzy
guitar.
The core group here is a traditional organ trio lineup with Robert Walter on
Hammond B3 Organ (doubling on bass duties) and Will Bernard on guitar. Their
simpatico backing on “Poison Pushy” sets the stage perfectly for
an album so far in the pocket it bangs against your knees when you walk. It’s
the kind of easy groove that’s found a second home on the stages of festivals
like Bonnaroo, thanks in large part to Medeski, Martin & Wood’s crossover
success. Moore tinkers in the toolbox a little less than MMW, staying much closer
to traditional sounds, but it’s all to the good. When it comes to peddling
the strolling New Orleans funk sound, it’s more about finding the gaps
in the tradition to slide into, rather than trying to break out of the formula,
and through three-quarters of the album, they stick to form.
 In
the last three tracks, however, Moore ventures into territory which feels just
right, given the straits his hometown is in. It’s impossible not to read
the closing trilogy of “Water from an Ancient Well,” Led Zeppelin’s
“When the Levee Breaks” and “I Shall Not Be Moved” as
being reflective of the atmosphere in New Orleans in the wake of Katrina. “Water
...” is a leisurely but uplifting stroll that evokes the tone of a New
Orleans funeral, simultaneously melancholy and hopeful and pretty much the textbook
definition of bittersweet. Anyone expecting Moore to duplicate John Bonham’s
crashing and oft-sampled beat from “When the Levee Breaks” will
be disappointed when Moore ushers the song in on press rolls, but Will Bernard’s
humming slide guitar keeps it in Zep territory, even if it’s more “Going
to California” than the original. Bernard’s tasteful slide work
takes center stage on closer “I Shall Not Be Moved,” which is less
a reinvention than simply the right song at the right moment, treated respectfully.
At the end of an album dedicated to dancing away your cares, Moore’s dropped
an inspiring and surprisingly moving troika that’s a tribute to the power
of perseverance. Those seeking to help out the displaced musicians of New Orleans
should visit the New Orleans Musicians Hurricane Relief Fund at nomhrf.org.
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