Arthur Taylor's Wailers
Wailin' at the Vanguard (Verve 519 677)

This 1993 CD is fine but unspectacular traditional jazz, an interesting attempt by Arthur Taylor to rekindle the magic of the Blue Note hard bop approach by creating a Jazz Messengers for the 90s. Unfortunately for Taylor, he would die before ever bringing this project fully to fruition, but the CD documents a very tight working band that very well may have become a proving-ground for young future-stars of jazz.

It's hard to say, as jazz is so much more about marketing now than music. This band is not the classic Art Blakey Jazz Messengers line-up with Wayne Shorter and Lee Morgan, but it's a fine band, par for the course for 90s "classic jazz" bands.

Taylor is on drums, accompanied by much-younger players Abraham Burton (alto sax), Willie Williams (tenor sax), Tyler Mitchell (bass), and Jacky Terrason (piano), of which only the last has made a name for himself post-Wailers. The set was taped over two nights at the Village Vanguard in New York, and while it's definitely not the most memorable or exhilarating jazz ever taped there, it's a very good performance nonetheless, and doubtlessly left the crowd very satisfied.

At home, though, away from the club atmosphere and that special greatness that virtually any event has if you were there personally, it' s merely good, fine jazz, no frills, no thrills.

The band tears through a set mixing originals and standards, replete with a very Miles Davis-like "Bridge Theme" that gets a brief introduction at the beginning of the set (a la "The Theme") and then again at the end (also a la "The Theme" … thank God for the eighty different versions of that avaiable of the Plugged Nickel box set).

It's a throwback to Taylor's era (he was a fairly big player in the 50s, less so in the 60s, and virtually out of the picture by the 70s), and it's a cool, charming bit of ballsiness. The set begins in "serious cookin'" mode, settles into "brewin' up somethin'" mode, sidesteps into "shout-out to the master" mode in a medley of Ellington/Strayhorn ballads, and closes with "raise-the-roof calypso bop" mode on "Harlem Mardi Gras" and a final chorus of "Salt Peanuts" thrown in at the very end. I

Very much a "live" performance, meaning it is palpably exciting, and the crowd response guides your own response, but there are no real fireworks in any of the solos. The interplay between the saxes is probably the best aspect of the band's musical approach, and it reminded my of the two fictional frontmen in the Mo' Better Blues band, both in terms of playfulness and shallowness.

Still, I'd rather hear a band that seems shallow when compared to the Miles/Coltrane Quintet or the Jazz Messengers than some phony cock-grabbin' posturing of a band like trendy Midnight Oil or INXS anyday (*intentionally dated band references thrown in for comic effect to deflate otherwise self-important remark).

Probably the most irresistable aspect of this CD is the cover image of Taylor coolly posed with sticks in hand wearing bright yellow pinstripe suit. Like the music within, it emulates an earlier era when someone as talented as Lee Morgan or Wayne Shorter could be simply a member of a great band.

These days, anyone with reasonable talent is a leader, and the truly great are (sometimes undeserving) superstars. It's too bad that there's no one around to break new ground and carry the tradition forward, but I guess in the end it's a great thing that we have the tradition of jazz at all. It's not the end of the world if every album isn't A Love Supreme.

Loud Bassoon rating scale

Review by Suzie Cant