Eddie Henderson • Shuffle and Deal
 n the last century, jazz
musicians who continued to play well, long past traditional retirement age, were rare. Now
they’re almost commonplace. Still, given the particular demands of the trumpet on a
player’s jaw, teeth and facial muscles, it’s surprising when a trumpeter at 79
delivers like Eddie Henderson does on his quintet’s Shuffle and Deal. Deal,
he definitely does, knocking out ten tunes in a single day last December at
Manhattan’s Sear Sound, with Chris Allen at the board. (He also did the mix.)
A slow ballad tests a horn player’s intonation, tone quality and melodic imagination; Henderson offers Harold Arlen’s “Over the Rainbow,” for trumpet and rhythm trio. He skips the introductory verse to get straight to the chorus, subtly displacing the melody’s rhythms and casually connecting its phrases with whippet runs, then capturing the song’s wistfulness in paraphrases that never wander far from its distinctive melodic contours. His intonation is sure—any deviation from pitch is expressive—and his tone bright and sturdy. Bona fides established, he follows up with three more confident ballads. On the set-closer “Smile,” a duet with venerable pianist Kenny Barron, Henderson’s sound is more plaintive and straight, like he’s playing “Taps,” true to the Charlie Chaplin tune’s maudlin lyric. On “God Bless the Child” the trumpeter uses an unbuzzy (un-Milesy) Harmon mute for a veiled tone suggesting composer Billie Holiday’s weather-beaten voice; a little sassy vibrato recalls her attitude. There are some deft melodic turns in Henderson's solo, bold gestures and fragile soft tones in quick succession. Donald Harrison’s two alto-sax solos provide contrast. Finally there’s a long take on “Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most,” with its tricky meandering melody, where the (unsung) lyric’s complex emotions serve as apparent inspiration; Henderson sounds like one of those interpreters who learns a tune’s words. There are up-tempo groovers too. Henderson disparages his own composing, and his title track is barely more than a black-keys pentatonic riff over standard changes, powered by drummer Mike Clark’s springy double-jointed backbeat. Both players came up in electric Herbie Hancock bands of the 1970s -- the trumpeter in Mwandishi and the drummer in Headhunters -- and Clark always puts some funk in it; his (usually) syncopated snare drum is the heart of his sound, with cymbals, toms and bass drum playing off that. The chipper, sing-song boogaloo “Boom” is by Natsuko Henderson, who’s been writing for her husband for at least fifteen years, but the couple may still be in their honeymoon phase, to judge by Eddie launching his solo by quoting “I’ve Found a New Baby.” His pianist, daughter Cava Menzies, wrote “By Any Means” in an unfussy 5/4 spelled by a 3/4 bridge. A couple of side folk brought music. On Donald
Harrison’s bright swinger “Burnin’,” Henderson’s phrasing is
consistently varied, and he gives a modal solo a sense of direction; the altoist shows off
the somewhat exaggerated sizzling, almost squawky tone he favors here, in ropy contrast to
wiry trumpet. (Both horns play in star-studded septet The Cookers.) Kenny Barron had
recorded “Flight Path” with the quartet Sphere in 1983 -- a fast one to get the
juices flowing. Throughout, the pianist’s fleet rhythm puts everyone in the right
mood, and he echoes Red Garland’s glowing harmonic sense here and there. (Indeed,
behind Henderson on “Over the Rainbow,” Barron may sound like Garland plucking
angelic harp.) Barron’s “Cook’s Bay” is a little trickier, with a
Latin bump in the rhythm, and some unisons for his left hand and journeyman bassist Gerald
Cannon. Here for once you get to hear some of the bass’s woody thump that may get
lost when the action thickens. When that happens, we hear Cannon’s pitches more than
bass tone, as if his pickup were plugged into the board -- another ’80s callback.
Harrison’s sizzle can sound a little muffled at times, as on “Flight Path,”
but septuagenarian masters Henderson and Barron are heard in their unfettered, seasoned
glory. They have the wisdom of age, and the chops to express it. |
