Starting with Jobim (1972/3*), Tom’s music takes a turn for the more grandiose, or towards what we might term ‘art-music’, and concurrently is somewhat less mainstream or immediately accessible. It’s not, initially, a massive change, more several forms of tweakage. Although having said this, by the tone of Urubu, the change is markedly more pronounced
Echoing Jobim, this is a record of two halves/sides: side one is vocal, side two instrumental. The songs are the more obvious descendants of his former phase as a maker of popular tunes/songs. But even these feel as if they’re becoming more European and chamber music styled.
Side two might be film or TV music, and is more orchestral, albeit with some splashes of chorale, and some wider instrumentation than is usually found in Jobim’s music up to this point.
Both the vocal and instrumental sides are four pieces apiece: Boto, Ligia, Correntzo and Angela are all songs; Saudade do Brazil, Valse, Architetur de Morar and O Homem are all instrumentals.
As a great admirer of Jobim’s work I like this expansion of his range. But I can also understand the viewpoint of those who love his prior work more, and start to lose interest in this material.
The truth is I’m most likely to teach for Wave, Tide and Stone Flower, or a collaboration like Eli’s e Tom than I am either Jobim (even with its two tecirdibgs of Aguas de Marco!) or Urubu, or even later masterpieces, Like Terra Brasilis and Inedito, although these later recordings come much closer to achieving a synthesis of Jobim’s broader reach.
This makes scoring this hard! As I’m typing this a rather John Barry/James Bond-ish passage is playing, part of track seven (whose English title is rendered as Architecture to Live), and it’s terrific! And album closer O Homem (OMan) is bolder brassier and even fanfare-like in places, unlike any other Jobim heretofore.
Not the place for the uninitiated to start. And only really essential to the Jobimophile, like me. I toyed with scoring this four and a half stars. But I love it. So it’s getting five.
* It says ‘72 on my vinyl copy. But some webpages say it was released in ‘73… !?
It’s nice to keep occasional tabs on the progress of things like the garden. I particularly like the above photo, which Teresa took (on my iPhone) recently. Thanks to mum, for the arch. We have roses and (?) climbing up both sides, and now, after about four or five years, nearly meeting at the apex.
Our apple tree; small but fecund!
The apple tree nearly died on us. I had to lop off a big chunk that appeared to be diseased, several years ago. So it’s a lot smaller than we’d like it to be. But it’s great it survived whatever afflicted it, and is coming back strong. It is producing a lot of apples this year. More than ever before. They’re only just getting ready to harvest. So I can’t report on their quality for eating, juicing or cooking just yet. Fingers crossed they’ll be nice!
Teresa’s clump of fig trees, all doing well.
Also producing a healthy crop are Teresa’s fig trees. There are, I think, four or five, all planted as cut sticks, about four years ago. I personally think we should lift one or two and transplant them elsewhere. But for now they’re staying put. We’ve harvested a few figs from them already, but not gotten around to trying any!
One of several chilli plants.
One crop we have been both harvesting and eating is a variety of chillis. Most of which are growing in the greenhouse. But a couple of which, inc the one pictured above, are outside, either in a pot in a raised bed, or the herb bed. These are quite varied, some being quite mild, others pretty ferociously hot.
A banana palm, bought from a Co-Op!
I often covet the big banana palms we sometimes see on TV, when Gardener’s World visits somewhere, or the public submit their own garden shorts. I spotted some at a recently opened local branch of The Co-Op, when buying some lunch one day last week. Small, and £6 each, I bought one. It’s in the greenhouse at present, and will stay there to be potted on to a much larger pot and allowed to really grow.
Our garden is, like our home, small and a bit on the messy side. That annoys me somewhat. I’d prefer a bigger home and garden, and even more than that, I wish we could vanquish the beasts of mess and clutter! But ultimately I love both home and garden. They’re our private refuges. And both are a constant source of succour to us.
NB Jobim’s frequent collaborations are something I was going to get to later, after posting on all his solo stuff. But I got this, to fill some gaps, and listening to it, felt compelled to write something up and post it. I’ll be covering other ‘Jobim plus’ type recordings in due course.
I recently acquired Sinatra/Jobim, The Complete Reprise Recordings on CD. And I did so despite already owning the two previous official collaborations between these two legendary figures of 20th century popular music.
Why? Well, partly cause I’m a collecto-maniac, but chiefly because there have been two or three tracks they recorded together that have long been hard to get hold of. The reason was that Ol’ Blue Eyes wasn’t happy with his performances. They were Sabia, Bonita, and Off-Key (aka Desafinado).
1967’s first joint venture.
This has the weird consequence of resulting in one ‘proper’ or fully collaborative album, Francis Albert Sinatra & Antônio Carlos Jobim, (1967), and one that was more an affair of two distinct halves, Sinatra & Company, (released in 1971). Both are very good. But I always preferred the earlier and more fully Jobim-ised disc, and felt a little cheated by the more pop than ‘great American songbook’ side of & Company.
One of the oddest songs, to my ears, on this listening, is Sabia, rendered here as Song Of The Sabia, and almost unrecognisable as the song Jobim performs elsewhere. This is thanks not only to the quite different lyrics, but even more so Sinatra’s very Vegas delivery.
Perhaps it shouldn’t come as a surprise that this was one of the tracks that prompted Sinatra himself to quash the release of the intended follow up to Francis Albert Sinatra & Antônio Carlos Jobim, which was to be called Sinatra-Jobim.
The cover for the follow up that was pulled.
On the whole Sinatra does a very commendable job, across both albums, of adjusting his performances to the much mellower more laid back stylings of the bossa nova. But one senses it was something of a stretch for ‘The Voice’.
Rather intriguingly, one of the numbers where both this accommodation, and the lush orchestral arrangements, fuse into something really surprisingly powerful, is Someone To Light Up My Life. Some of Sinatra’s bombast or bravura leaks into his vocal performance, in a way that gives it a quality more authentically Brazilian renderings I’ve heard don’t have.
The half’n’half (baked) Sinatra & Co, 1971.
Actually, it seems to me that Sinatra feels more relaxed and better able, in the second set of recordings – actually recorded in 1969, just two years after their first collaborative sessions – to integrate his own usual mannerisms into the bossa nova setting. So it’s somewhat ironic that it was performances from the second batch that were binned.
Sinatra takes the vocal lead throughout, but Jobim is allowed to play the second fiddle in numerous duets, including The Girl From Ipanema (the first track), and Off-Key/Desafinado, the latter being one of the three tracks here that has a more chequered past.
It’s surprising how consistent all the bossa material is, across both albums, in terms of feel and quality. The only obvious major difference is that frequent Jobim collaborator Claus Ogerman arranged for Francis Albert Sinatra & Antônio Carlos Jobim, whereas the still very young Eumir Deodato handles arrangements on the later Sinatra-Jobim/Sinatra & Company material.
What a fabulous photograph!
It’s worth mentioning, even if only briefly, the non-Jobim tracks, Change Partners (Irving Berlin), I Concentrate On You (Cole Porter), and Baubles, Bangles and Beads (from the popular musical Kismet). These were part of the Sinatra/Jobim sessions, and you can hear Jobim scatting in them. In contrast, the second side of & Company was neither by Jobim, nor has him on any of it, either. Those selections, inc. tracks such as (They Long To Be) Close To You and Leavin’ On A Jet Plane, are not included on this release. (Thankfully!)
Listening to all these tracks now, including the lost sheep – Sabia, Bonita, Off-Key – it’s hard to understand why Sinatra got cold feet. It’s definitely great to have all this terrific music gathered together in a Jobim-fan-friendly format. I’m much more a Jobim fan than a Sinatra one. Although Tom plays lower on the billing than Sinatra, it’s largely his music, and that’s why I’m here!
So, not part of my survey of solo Jobim, but still essential for both the lover of great music, and especially so the lover of Jobimalia!
After a run of recordings made at the Rudy Van Gelder studios, whilst this allegedly shares many of the same performers, it sounds and feels quite different.
The Brazilian version started with the sublime Jobim classic Aguas de Marco, in its original Portuguese. The US and other markets started likewise, but had an extra version of the same track, sung in English, appended to the close of side two. I’d say this is a five star album simply for having this track, or rather tracks, on it alone.
The rest of the disc is rather more varied than previous albums. Whilst tracks two and three, Ana Luiza and Matita Pere are very much the Jobim we’d grown to know and love, from Tempo do Mar onwards things shift to a more TV/movie soundtrack type territory.
Personally I love a lot of this music, albeit that it is quite different from the ‘standard’ Jobim stuff we may have grown accustomed to. Tempo do Mar, Mantequiera Range, Themes From the Films Cronica Da Casa Assassinada/Trem Para Cordisburgo, Um Rancho Nas Nuvens and Nuvens Douradas are all more ‘compositional’ (a kind of classical influence?); except for a brief interlude in the longer Themes From the Films track, they are all instrumental, and more orchestral and thematic, less song like than usual.
This makes this recording significantly different from all his previous discs. And some don’t like that. Allmusic.com score it a paltry three stars! I find that shocking. It’s like the reaction many had to Alice Coltrane’s Infinity. Close-minded. This said, as much as I love and admire Jobim’s work when he veers off his own beaten track, I do listen to this stuff less frequently.
According to online info, Claus Ogerman is once again working with Jobim. And he has a lot more to do here, as a great many pieces are essentially Jobim at the piano, plus an orchestra, predominantly consisting, by the sounds of it, of strings, plus some flutes, and the occasional trombone. So there’s a lot less of the US jazzmen blowing their horns.
They do crop up, here and there, notably Urbie Green’s sinuously laconic ‘bone can be enjoyed in several places. Likewise Ron Carter and Joao Palma are credited. But have a lot less to do than in previous recordings. Making a ‘slight return’ on side two, with the two Nuvens tracks, and the added English language version of Aguas de Marcos.
The cover artwork is a bit strange. A rather naive modernist painting. Poss’ by a member of the Jobim clan? It’s kind of suited to an album that’s a bit of a departure into what might be termed a more personal or ‘art music’ type direction.
So, whilst I personally love this album, being a major Jobim fan, I wouldn’t recommend it as a starting point, as it’s quite atypical. But, again, for me personally, on account of the two versions of Waters of March, if nothing else, this remains utterly essential.
Today’s post concerns a wee 7” single – or Disco do Bolso (pocket record!) – which was given away in a Brazilian supplement to the Pasquim newspaper. On one side the debut recording of Joao Bosco, on the other, another debut. But this time from the venerable old master, Tom Jobim… read on.
Regarding the Jobim track, it’s the first recorded iteration of a Tom classic that’s gone on to become a signature song both for the composer himself, and Brazilian art music/culture, of the 20th century. Covered many times by many artists. A favourite amongst musicians worldwide, it’s less widely or popularly known – compared with numbers like The Girl From Ipanema or How Insensitive – outside Brazil.
Funky font on the 7” label.
This particular version is certainly not the best; it’s a bit fast, and the production values are fairly poor. But this earliest recording does capture the joy and energy of creation itself. The excitement Jobim’s performance conveys is both palpable and infectious.
It’s a quite rough and ready recording, like a demo, really. Not the sort of finessed kind of mix or production of most Jobim commercial recordings. But it has extra charm for just those reasons.
I initially supposed the guitar, vocals and layered flutes, and poss even vocalised ‘cabasa’ style percussion, were all by Jobim. Leaving me wondering who played bass and drums. But a little online digging led here, where I discovered it was otherwise than I supposed.
Tom is credited as arranger and vocalist, with guitar played by Eduardo Athayde, bass by Novelli, drums by João Palma, and Bebeto, Paulo Jobim (family!), Franklin, Paulo (another one; a family friend, apparently!), and Ratto, all playing flute!
Image from an online ad for the mag/disc.
If I had the money, I’d love to track down a copy of the magazine with the disc. I did find one – pictured above – on eBay, asking price circa $180! Interestingly both the lyrics and Jobim’s handwritten musical score are printed.
Oh, and I adore the artwork! Jobim squatting by a tree (or rock?), with his flute at the ready, apparently reading some music off a sexy bikini clad lady’s very fine posterior!
NB – Google Translate renders the info on the Brazilian wiki-link about this release thus:
Antônio Carlos Jobim's Tom eo Tal de João Bosco is a simple 1972 compact made for the Disco de Bolso d'O Pasquim collection, released by Tom Jobim and João Bosco. Side A of the single brings the first recording and release of "Águas de Março" and side B brings the song "Agnus Sei" by João Bosco (his first recording). Despite recording and tuning problems, the single is seen today as of great historical importance.
What a terrific movie. Based on a true story, as they say. I’ve subsequently learned that, as is pretty near always the case, the moviemakers play fast and loose with historical facts. But nevertheless, this is a very engaging story well told.
Central to the story – in which a group of kids in a coal mining town get interested in building rockets, after seeing the Soviet Sputnik satellite pass overhead – are numerous strands of relationships.
Pa wants Homer Jr not just ‘down to earth’, but literally underground.
Perhaps the most foregrounded is that of central character Homer Hickam (Jake Gyllenhaal) and his coal miner father (Chris Cooper). Also key is Homer’s teacher, Miss Reilly (Laura Dern). Then there’s his family, his ‘Rocket Boy’ friends, and the community of Coalwood, a town literally built (and owned) by the mining company.
Set in the ‘50s, and depicting a very particular geographical and working culture, the film has a lot of nostalgic appeal. It’s a corking feel-good watch. Certain aspects of the story, and even certain characters, are ‘jazzed up’ a bit. Personally I think it’s a shame moviemakers seem to feel obliged to do such things. But maybe it does make for more compelling viewing?
But for the Rocket Boys, things are looking up.
Watching the movie made me feel I ought to read Hickam’s autobiographical Rocket Boys memoir. But, for now, the feel-good fun of the movie will suffice.
The sixth disc (or seventh, if you include Love Strings and Jobim) in his discography and my Tom Jobim survey, Stone Flower follows Wave and Tide , both chronologically, and in being an RVG production.
Benefitting from much the same team of personnel as Tide – Ron Carter, João Palmer, Airto, Everaldo Ferreira – and with the same kind of production aesthetic, it’s another solid slice of Jobim’s musical magic. One difference, however, is that Eumir Deodato handles the arrangements (he’s also credited with guitar; I didn’t know he played!?).
As usual with these recordings the horns are top drawer American jazzers. For these sessions we have the very mellifluous tones of Urbie Green, on ‘bone, Hubert Laws handling flutey duties, and Joe Farrell playing sop’ sax (the latter on just the one track).
The album begins with the enchantingly charming, Tereza, My Love (a title with a nice personal resonance for me!). Children’s Games sounds like an early rendition of Chovenda Na Roseira, or Double Rainbow, a really terrific tune. It’s slightly unusual in being in 3/4 time, and, whilst still having the signature mellowness of practically all Jobim’s music, it gets quite percussively energetic, with the drums in particular very active.
Jobim is mostly at the piano on these recordings, and plays superbly. Choro begins with the ensemble stripped back to the core rhythm section, and has a terrific main theme on keys, lithe yet muscular, minimal yet rich.
Track four is a rare thing, as Jobim plays someone else’s material. And he chooses Ary Barosso’s classic Brazil. It’s the first vocal on the album. And he plays electric piano. The quality of musicianship is just sublime. Joao Palma, Airto Moreira and Everaldo Ferreira working together extraordinarily well, and Ron Carter’s richly articulate bass completing the spare rhythm section as perfectly as is conceivable.
Brazil is just incredible. An ‘opus de samba’ of truly epic proportions. Managing to perfectly balance exuberant energy against a light melodic touch. The percussionists do a tremendous job, acting like a taught trampoline over which Carter and Jobim can bounce, in a beautifully sustained meditation on the chordal and melodic themes.
I’m not surprised that another take is added as a bonus track, as these guys are on fire! And Rudy Van Gelder’s recording captures it all as no one else could. One even hears Jobim’s cigarette and cigar soused breathing over the keys occasionally. This is music that is truly alive with energy and feeling.
As an aside, my first taste of any of the music from this disc actually came via Santana’s cover of Stone Flower, on their fantastic Caravanserai album, from 1972.* Jobim’s version is terrific, featuring segments in which violinist Harry Lookofsky at one point takes the melody, and at others Jobim scats a bit.
The second half of the album features numerous less well known Jobim tracks, such as the remarkably beautiful Amparo, a gently melancholic chamber orchestra style number, sans rhythm section. Utterly beautiful. And sounding very much like it could be a TV or movie theme piece.
Speaking of which, after the rhythm section returns for the stately Andorhina, we are treated to God And The Devil In The Land Of The Sun, which is a soundtrack to a film of the same name. Musically it sounds like a rehash of another Jobim track, but adapted somewhat, inserting a sax solo by Farrell, and some moody orchestral arrangements.
The album originally ended with a vocal version of Sabia, a middling Jobim track. By which I mean not amongst his most covered, nor his most obscure. Tom’s vocals are a bit approximate, pitch-wise. This is a pity, but the album overall is so good it can take it.
The CD reissue I have appends an alternate take of Brazil. Another fabulous and totally essential Jobim album.
*Santana’s drummer, Michael Shrieve, wrote some English lyrics, of a rather hippy-dippy nature. Perhaps not altogether surprisingly, as he was tripping on LSD when he penned them!
My current bout of true crime/serial-killer interest continues. Having recently watched both Des and the The Real ‘Des’, I picked up a copy of the book that was the chief inspiration for the recent ITV drama, Killing For Company, for just £2, at The Works.
Darkly compelling, I read 75% of the book in one sitting, the evening of the day I bought it. If I hadn’t had to go to work the following day, requiring in turn some sleep, I’d have continued until I finished.
In Brian Masters’ own words, this is a book about ‘a man who has constructed his own hell and dragged others into it, without, in the end, really knowing why.’ Directly after this, Masters goes on to say ‘It is because one needs to ask why that this book has been written.’
In stark contrast to the Michael Bilton book I recently read, Wicked Beyond Belief, about Peter Sutcliffe’s crimes, this book focuses on the perpetrator: after starting with a chapter titled Arrest, we are taken via Origins, Childhood, Army, Police & Civil Service to, in chapters 6-7, Victims and Disposal.
Remand and Trial follow, before we reach chapter 10, Answers. At over 60 pages, Answers is easily the biggest single chapter in the book. In this final ‘summing up’ Masters looks at the case from numerous angles, via psychiatry, the law, philosophy, even religion.
Masters visited Nilsen in custody, and received vast amounts of writings (and some quite macabre drawings) from him. These, including numerous quotations of Nilsen’s poetry, inform Masters account. As do numerous other sources, such as the author’s own researches, inc. court proceedings, and so on.
Well researched, written and presented. This is an interesting and morbidly fascinating read. Masters tries to avoid sensationalist emotive writing, and largely succeeds. But his extensive use of Nilsen’s own writings, and other things, mean that the genie of ghoulishness still escapes the bottle.
A postscript (after a series of Nilsen’s grim crime scene sketches), by Anthony Storr, addresses the gulf that became alarmingly apparent in court between law and psychiatry.
All in all, a really fascinating and very compelling read. Highly recommended.
Holy guacamole! This arrived this afternoon. Plugging another gap in my current run of Jobim solo album reviews. And boy oh boy, is it good!
I should hasten to note here that our living room stereo is a tiny poxy little Sony ‘all in one’ thing. It is decidedly not the gear of a dedicated or wealthy audiophile! That said, Wave sounds amazing! I think a very large part of the credit for that has to go to Rudy Van Gelder, in whose studio (also his home!) this beautiful album was recorded.*
The album kicks off with the title track, yet another Jobim ditty that’s become a standard. The audio quality – the air and energy in the mix – are astonishing. The balance of well known and more obscure material is great, Triste and Wave accounting for the former; amongst the latter such numbers as The Red Blouse, Mojave and Dialogo, and others. So quite a contrast with his debut.
Jerome Richardson, flute.
One of the ‘lesser’ pieces – by which I mean less famous, not less good – is one of my all time favourites by Jobim, Lamento. I recorded my own version of this many years ago, as part of my Too Much Time jazz/bossa recording project. This and Remember from Tide strike my main nerve, for some reason.
Every now and again Jobim dabbled with an unusual choice of keyboard, and here, on Antigua he plays the keys part on … harpsichord! The glassy tone makes for an interesting contrast with the soft pillowy clouds of flutes, trombones and strings.
Urbie Green, trombone.
The powerful presence of sound on the superbly titled Captain Bacardi is astonishing. The drums in particular project almost alarmingly in the mix, and there are sections where it’s just drums and a repeated piano chord. Rarely has such minimalism had such grit and power. And then a cuica joins in! What sublime music.
Claus Ogerman is the arranger again. And my how well he and Jobim work together. Ron Carter’s lithe muscular bass articulates the solid but flexible spine, Brazilian drummer Claudio Slon is superb, aided by percussion from Dom Um Romoa and Bobby Rosengarden. American jazzers – Urbie Green, Jimmy Cleveland, Jerome Richardson – blow their righteous horns.
Claudio Slon, drums.
The only issue with this sublime recording is that there isn’t lots more of it. Ten tracks, totalling just over half an hour! Totally essential, and as good a place as any to start your Jobim journey.
*I think this is also part of why Stone Flower and Tide are so damnably good!
NB – Earlier today I lamented the gaps in my Jobim survey. And presto! Shortly thereafter the missing albums arrive. So here’s the first gap-filler, Jobim’s second solo album, and the first with his singing on it!
Jobim’s second album starts with the vocal She’s A Carioca, sung mostly in English, with a little Portuguese and some jazz-bossa Scat!This is followed with Agua de Beber, one of the several songs here to join the ranks of Jobim’s jazz/bossa standards, starting in Scat, before continuing in Portuguese.
Apart from the vocals the music and mood are pretty much a smooth continuation from The Composer Of Desafinado Plays. Track three is the slightly nutty Surfboard. The melody in this first version is mellower than his later electric organ version, and whilst I love it for its zaniness, it’s not the strongest track on this album.
Jobim at work.
Useless Landscape (or Inutil Paisagem), sung in English, is rendered here in hyper mellow but otherwise normal m.o. for this era. Whilst this version is perfectly good – it’s a terrific number – quite how great and powerfully emotional this can be isn’t revealed here to best effect here, for my money. I much prefer the much later recording with (I think?) Elis Regina singing.
So Tinha De Ser Com Voce, Tristeza and Felicidade are a string of songs sung in original Portuguese. The first of these is less covered, whilst the second and third are in the middling group of Jobim songs; played often enough, but not quite as frequently as the evergreen standards that Ipanema, Insensatez, Desafinado and such like became.
Bonita makes her first showing here, as track eleven. I think this version, whilst a little blander arrangement wise, finds Jobim in better voice than on the version that opens A Certain Mr Jobim. Having mentioned the arrangements, this time we’re hearing Nelson Riddle, not Claus Ogerman. And overall they are, er… well, less noticeable, on the whole. To some extent they’re not massively different from Ogerman’s, in that we hear strings, flutes, trombones, and it’s all soft, pillowy textures.
But I think Ogerman brings a bit more to the party, so to speak. Riddle’s in the background minimalism is, conceptually, something I like. But one almost feels half the time it’s just not there at all! That’s said, the new to me and rather lovely Valsa Do Porto Das Caixas, a super mellow instrumental, is just Jobim at the piano, with Riddle arranging, and it’s utterly gorgeous!
Nelson Riddle, at work.
After this, I found myself more attuned to Riddle’s m.o. and totally dug what he does with Samba do Aviao. This and the achingly beautiful Por Toda A Minha Vida, the latter just Jobim and his guitar, are both in Portuguese. And this last song, one I’ve always loved from knowing much later versions, is just sublime. Love it!
Riddle and the orchestra are back and in fullest effect for the closing number, Dindi. A terrifically beautiful piece which Jobim sings in English here. The pace is stately, the vibe intensely gorgeous. And though Jobim’s voice wobbles a little. It’s not enough to effect the beauty of the song.
Having reached the end, I’m mightily impressed. Ok, not every single number here, as on The Composer, has become an every day standard. But the musical standard has not dropped at all, even with the advent of Tom’s infamously wobbly vocals (which are more of an issue on the later A Certain Mr album).
I have to admit that the cover image, looking more of a piece with the aberrant Love, Strings & Jobim, had my expectations lowered. I think Riddle does well, but Ogerman seems more Jobim’s arranger soulmate. But overall, like his debut, this is another essential slice of Jobim.
