Warne Marsh - Star Highs (Criss Cross, 1982)

This post is by Dan

Warne Marsh (ts); Hank Jones (p); George Mraz (b); Mel Lewis (d)

Recorded August 14, 1982

According to one compilation title, Warne Marsh was an "unsung cat" (An Unsung Cat - The Life and Music of Warne Marsh, Storyville, 2000). At least from a commercial perspective, few of his 50-plus albums as a leader over a career spanning nearly 40 years rose to the level of awareness that other top tenorists enjoyed. At best, he was considered an undiscovered (unsung) treasure whose recordings were worth tracking down. At worst, he was underestimated as a member of the "Tristano School," that non-mainstream band of horn players focused on pure improvisation that its leader, pianist Lennie Tristano, taught to his disciples. Ironically, Tristano's more famous pupil, Lee Konitz, never suffered the neglect that Warne Marsh did.

Star Highs is one of four Warne Marsh albums to be featured in this blog. Both of us independently endorsed Marsh entries recorded in the last decade of his life. These are special albums worthy of careful consideration by anyone unfamiliar with them or the artist.

Criss Cross, the Dutch label founded in 1981 by Gerry Teekens, sought out Marsh and other American players like Jimmy Raney and Chet Baker, offering them multiple recording opportunities. Star Highs was the label's second release. It's an unpretentious date (Marsh could never be considered pretentious) with an outstanding lineup pulled from the participants at a jazz festival held two days earlier in Amsterdam. 

Those who think of Marsh as a slavish Tristano disciple might wince at the combination of Marsh and Hank Jones playing tunes by Tristano, Marsh, Charlie Parker, and the pianist. But any worries can be dismissed once the record begins to play. Both players possess a light touch on their respective instruments, and both had been performing jazz for over 30 years prior to the date. "Switchboard Joe," based on the changes of "It's You or No One," is all forward momentum from the outset. Jones' solo follows Marsh's statement of the modified melody and fits perfectly with the group sound. Jones always exhibits swing and good taste in whatever he plays, and Marsh always sounds like himself. The chemistry among these players continues across the seven tracks on the album. 

What our ears witness on this recording is a basic principle of jazz performance - the shaping of surprising innovative art through the combination of variations in melody, harmony, instrumentation, and players. Commitment to a particular style is always provisional, subject to revisions "in the moment," as the title of one book on jazz puts it.* Good jazz remains open to infinite variations that produce something new. Marsh, Jones, George Mraz, and Mel Lewis demonstrate how this principle works in their first encounter in a Dutch recording studio 40 years ago. 

*Francis Davis, In the Moment: Jazz in the 1980s, Da Capo Press, 1988.