Search - Clifford Jordan :: Mosaic

The Perfect Statement in the New Economy

Samuel Chell | Kenosha,, WI United States | 05/31/2009

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Two albums for less than the price of one, and featuring three players who rarely if ever wasted a note: Clifford Jordan, Kenny Dorham, and Tommy Flanagan. Jordan can creep up on you, lodging the unmistakable grain of his tenor saxophone in the listener's consciousness long after the first meeting. Tonally, he reminds me of a baritone singer whose range extends seamlessly into the upper register. There's more "bite" than Prez, less than Coltrane, but as much tenderness as either of the more heralded tenor voices. His sound has substance, urgency, and a calming maturity that soon becomes an inviting place of retreat, an oasis in an overly busy, loud world where too many players are straining too hard to be heard above the fray.



Jordan's melodic ideas are a perfect match for his sound, as he's a soloist who is frequently content with a single chorus, capable of making an inventive and satisfying statement on nothing more than the melody (listen to his take on Ellington's lovely "Don't You Know I Care?" or Harold Arlen's "Last Night When We Were Young," which is the instrumental equivalent of Sinatra's "interpretation for the ages" on the Capitol session "Wee Small Hours of the Morning").



Dorham went to the same school of economics, and this may very well be the definitive version of Kenny's haunting "Sunrise in Mexico," better even than the trumpeter's version on his own Blue Note date "Whistle Stop." Sonny Red was arguably not on the same level as Jordan, but he fits in beautifully on this session, making a more satisfying musical soulmate than either Eric Dolphy on the Mingus dates or John Gilmore on the early "Blowin' in from Chicago." When Red and Jordan divide the chorus of Berlin's "They Say It's Wonderful," the effect, even factoring in the two different horns, is of a single purposeful voice.



Jordan had a beautiful individual sound along with facility that was adequate to express his ideas, and a special sense of knowing when not to play. And when he does play, it's more than a little apparent that he knows the lyrics of tunes (the reason that he would occasionally sing "Lush Life" and that Carmen McRae added him to her accompanying trio). He deserves to be remembered; he still offers much to the student of art and life."