Texte verso du disque Ease it (réédition de 1984)
As a jazz bass player, Paul Laurence Dunbar Chambers, Jr., just about had it all. For one thing, he had a huge, resonant sound. Superb articulation, too. Acute harmonic knowledge, coupled with great melodie strength. An ability to anchor any group with which he was associated in prescribed classic style.
Chambers was also an impressive, if not positively outstanding soloist, who mixed a basic walking style with more horn-like qualities. There were occasions, it is true, when he suffered intonation problems with his arco bowing — something not unknown to many otherjazz bassists. But all in all, he was a formidable musician who, during the 1950's and up to his sad, premature death in January 1969, helped continue to elevate the stature of the bassist in jazz in a profound and highly-individual way. The homogenous quality of the group assembled under Chambers' leadership for the bassist's first of two dates for the VeeJay label is most easily explained by the fact, Freddie Hubbard apart, all the participating musicians were either currently members of the Miles Davis Sextet —working at the time of this recording at the Sutherland Hotel, Chicago — or, in the case of Philly Joe Jones, had worked with Miles in the not-too-distant past. Jones, who appeared at the second of the two dates needed to complete the contents of this LP, had been Davis' regular drummer between 1955 and the summer of 1958. At which latter time he had been succeeded by Washington- born Wilbur 'Jimmy' Cobb, who'd already put in excellent timekeeping service with numerous bands, including those fronted by such luminaries as Dinah Washington, Stan Getz, Dizzy Gillespie, and Cannonball Adderley. But, as of February '59, there was more than sufficient action, recording-wise. For one thing, at the conclusion of the second of the two consecutive sessions required to complete the recording of the contents of this fine LP, Messrs. Chambers, Cobb, Kelly, Cannonball Adderley, linking up with Davis colleague John Coltrane, were to record a separate date, for Mercury Records, to which Adderley was contracted at that time and made under the altoist's leadership. (A fine session, too, reissued subsequently on a couple of occasions at least).
Cannon, whose impassioned alto enhances each and every track of the enclosed LP, was, like his colleagues in the Davis combo, to take part in another record date a month hence — and one that was to have far-reaching consequences for the future of jazz. This was the first of two dates that were to comprise the awesome contents of the immortal Kind of Blue collection. Wynton Kelly, who appeared on only one of the KOB selections (Freddie Freeloader — Bill Evans made his final on-record appearances with Miles for the rest of the LP), was a new member of the Davis aggregation at the time of the Chambers and Adderley dates in Chicago. Chambers himself was well and truly into his third year as rhythmic pivot with Miles Davis. During which period he had consolidated an enviable position as one of jazz' premier bassists — Chambers was to rank second only to Ray Brown in the 1959 "Down Beat" Annual Readers' Poll —even though he still hadn't celebrated his 24th birthday. (He had been a "Down Beat" New Star winner with the jazz critics in 1956).
It's Chambers' big-as-a-barn-door bass that opens proceedings. Adderley plays the theme of the leader's Awful Mean, an attractive blues line, with Kelly demonstrating for the umpteenth time just how superlative an all-round keyboard player he was. And, in this case, that does include his abilities in the area of blues-playing. Philly Joe lays down a very basic beat, in prescribed fashion. As for Cannonball, well, there never was any doubt, at any period of his career, as to his affinity with the blues. Here he's as basic as you'd wish. He dirties his tone to splendid advantage, and the overall feeling he imparts is tremendous. Paced byJones' typically magnificent brushwork, Paul bows himself a much-too-short solo, before handing over to the drummer, who produces his own brand of solo magic. The lilting Julie-Ann — titled by Chambers for one of Adderley's daughters — contains another strong, superbly articulated solo by its composer. Appropriately, Adderley is at his most melodie — yet never, at any time, losing his emotional commitment. Kelly, too, sparkies eloquently. Julie Ann also contains a flaring, effortless Hubbard solo, a self-contained proof-positive demonstration of just what kind of chops he had in this, his 21st year. Although he'd settled in the Big Apple, from his native Indianapolis, Ind., less than a year when this recording took place, the youthful Hubbard's reputation was already growing — and fast. His work throughout the Chambers date did absolutely nothing to diminish his upward-spiraling career.
It's Hubbard whose fiery, intense playing almost — but not quite — makes even Adderley take second place during a fast-and-furious I Got Rhythm. But, then, Kelly's sparkling pianistics just about tops everything, solowise. Chambers is a real tower of strength here, underpinning all the individual action with awesome power. His arco playing, too, is impressive. Cobb takes full advantage of a solo outing — his speed around the kit is as adroit as his all-round technique — and, thankfully, he doesn't outstay his welcome.
There are more superior solos all round (except for Cobb) during a fresh-sounding reworking of that fine piece of standard pop Just Friends (with what seems to be applause for Hubbard's uplifting statement by one of the other cats). But if anything, the Hubbard-less There Is No Greater Lover has an even finer set of improvisations, with Adderley in unsurpassable form. The alotoist sounds particularly happy and relaxed here, and truly inspired. He uses the full range of his instrument, and that big sound is amply in evidence. Jones, back in the drum seat, really cooks throughout, and the rhythm team is a total unit at all times.
Adderley's joint predilection for both Bird and Carter is readily apparent during Chambers' title tune — a solid piece of bebop that has Hubbard's coruscating trumpet returning once more, and a Wynton Kelly contribution that dances the light fantastic in the most delightful way (with Cobb's four-in-the-bar rimshot accents adding further helpful dynamics).
It is perhaps a sobering thought that Paul Chambers has been dead now for almost 15 years. And that of his colleagues, both Adderley and Kelly have likewise, sadly departed. Ease It represents the bassist's penultimate opportunity to host his own record date (the final session, some 15 months after this one, was also for VeeJay). It's a credit to the combined efforts of all the participants — certainly, this was no run-of-the-mill blowing session — and it's good to have Ease It back in circulation again. Listen and learn ...
Stan Britt ("The Wire")