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 | Oliver JonesSpeak Low, Swing HardLabel: Justin Time | Jazz | February 25, 1985Format UPC Order # Unit Price |
TracksNo Title Duration Excerpts 04 Ballad For Claire 00:03:33 05 Hilly 00:04:45 06 I'm An Old Cowhand 00:04:51 07 Up Jumped Spring 00:06:59 08 Soul Eyes 00:04:38 09 The Reverend Mr.Jones 00:04:10 10 Speak Low 00:07:23 Liner NotesThe first time I heard Oliver Jones, in a Montreal club somewhere along about 1987, I was astonished by his facility, which raised a comparison to Oscar Peterson. Comparisons are always onerous, but this one isn't. You don't go around casually comparing pianists to Oscar Peterson because so few of them play the instrument with the mastery that permits - or in this case compels - the observation. The one other who comes to mind is Monty Alexander.When I heard Oliver again a year later, I was further amazed by his growth as an artist. And still more amazed a year after that. For it is not the usual thing for a jazz musician to enter upon a period of great growth after the age of 50. Most artists have assimilated their influences and set their styles by their middle twenties, if not earlier. They may and indeed usually do get better as they develop the elements of their playing, but in case after case, actual evolution of the style does not take place in the middle and later years. Incidentally, this is true in the sciences as well. Most original scientists make their major discoveries in their twenties and spend the rest of their lives refining and exploring them. Oliver Jones is a strange exception Oliver Jones and Oscar Peterson have much in common. They were both born in the St. Antoine district of Montreal, between the two major Canadian railway lines that serve the city, where the porters who worked for the railway lived. Both are of West Indian parentage, though their people came from different islands - Oliver's from Barbados. And they were neighbors. Indeed, Oscar's late brother Chuck was one of Oliver's closest friends. Both of them embody the bravura tradition of the great Nineteenth Century Romantic pianists, particularly Liszt. But more immediately, they reflect the influence of Daisy Peterson Sweeney. Mrs. Sweeney, now in her middle sixties, is Oscar's sister. An exceptional pianist herself - in the classical field - she is one of the great music teachers in Montreal. And Daisy Peterson Sweeney taught both Oscar and Oliver to play. A patient but firm disciplinarian, she demands much of he students, and gets it, as witness the case of Oliver, whom she has known since he was a small boy and she a girl about ten years older than he. Both pianists have that prodigious, swift-as-light, dazzlingly clear technique. There's a kind of ring that they get out of the instrument, and I cannot help wondering to what extent it is the result of Daisy's training. And both of them swing powerfully. But there are great differences. There is a stronger element of gospel music in Oliver's playing. And a lot of his devices are drawn from other sources, some of them seeming to me to be rooted in Rachmaninoff. Oliver has his own vocabulary, and it has become more distinctive. That's the interesting thing. Year after year, he seems to be more and more himself. The summer I "discovered" Oliver, he was simultaneously discovered by my friend Leonard Feather, the dean of jazz critics. Leonard was as overwhelmed by him as I was. And later, when Oliver played New York, Jon Pareles of the New York Times wrote a review indicating that he was as taken by Oliver as Leonard and I. What still surprises me is that everyone took so long to find out about Oliver. Part of the reason is circumstance. Until a few years ago, Oliver never actively pursued a career in jazz. He worked as an accompanist, played shows in Puerto Rico, and generally did what he had to do to make a living. Then he returned to Montreal and settled into steady jazz playing. And of late he has been touring more and more - in Canada, the United States, and as far away as New Zealand. This is permitting an expanding audience to find out what a magnificent jazz player he is. If you are encountering Oliver Jones for the first time, by all means take note of the relationship and similarity to Mrs. Sweeney's other student. But then, more and more, you'll become aware of Oliver's individual personality. The great trumpet and fluegelhom player Art Farmer said to me recently that swing is disappearing from jazz. Too many of the younger players, Art said, don't know what it is, don't know how to do it, don't even perceive its importance. Fortunately there are still people like Art who do. And Oliver Jones. That's the surprise you're in for, if you're hearing Oliver Jones for the first time. How he swings. Amen, how he swings. Gene Lees |
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