Rufus Reid with Sullivan Fortner • It's the Nights I Like Sunnyside Records SSC 1730
The first time bassist Reid heard rising pianist Sullivan Fortner, he knew they’d hit it off. It’s the Nights I Like documents their first musical meeting. It was recorded in 2019 for an LP in a Newvelle subscription series, eight tracks released as Always in the Moment, all first takes, we’re told. The resequenced 11-tune CD adds an outtake, Charlie Parker’s “Big Foot” (aka “Drifting on a Reed”), plus two evergreens live-streamed in 2021, “Memories of You” (slow and sentimental à la Benny Goodman) and a “Sweet Lorraine,” where Fortner cuts loose -- all recorded by Marc Urselli at his East Side Sound in Lower Manhattan. In such duos, the pianist is usually top-billed; when the bassist headlines, things may shift around a little: the bass may be a shade higher than usual in the mix (check), or featured a bit more (there’s a solo “Sophisticated Lady”) and maybe the pianist is a shade more deferential. Fortner has performed duo with Cécile McLorin Salvant, and he knows how to frame a star without squelching himself. His piano sings along. You hear how much he loves getting the instrument to sound, with all its subtle shadings. Rufus Reid made his name in the 1970s, notably in Dexter Gordon’s quartet; back then bassists amped up with a vengeance (after years of getting drowned out in ever-louder bands). Reid retains a fondness for the era’s rubbery, larger-than-life bass sound, which takes on a pleasantly nostalgic quality here -- now that ’70s jazz is in. The thick but springy sound aids an elastic beat, and lets his singing pizz attack and quavery slow vibrato ring out. (On the 2021 tracks, his sound is a bit boomy and less boldly present; I miss the thunder.) Standards include Jimmy Rowles’ “The
Peacocks,” with its gorgeous birdsong-like opening (which sounds nothing like a
braying peacock). Soloing, the bassist gazes deeply into the melody’s lyrical turns,
as if he could play it all year. But it’s Reid’s original tunes, some dating
back to the 1990s, that really set the duo off. “Come Out to Play” (like a bebop
line with half the notes removed) and the slippery 7/4 “The Meddler” get the
juices flowing; on the latter, Fortner claws chords with both hands, and his solo’s
crowned by a strong one-handed solo chorus mid-keyboard. By no coincidence the CD’s
opener, “Always in the Moment,” begins with the same three-note phrase as
“The Peacocks,” as if to declare the composer’s lofty aspirations. The
title tune, a bright medium samba, cries out for a lyric, if it doesn’t have one
already. The duo’s time is solid, even where they leave plenty of space. You can hear
a drummer’s brushes in your mind’s ear, on medium-slow waltz “I Can’t
Explain,” where Fortner takes another gorgeous spare midrange solo, this one with his
gauze and gossamer backgrounds. The duo make no false moves. |
iano-bass duos are a jazz perennial, a tradition
carried on in hotel lounges, intimate cafés and other venues where music speaks in a low
voice. It’s an intent-listening format (for the musicians, at least), a close
conversation over clearly expressed forms. The absence of a rhythm trio’s
percussionist only intensifies the duo’s focus. The idea, Rufus Reid says, is to play
without having to work at it. 