Track  1:    Honeysuckle  Rose:

Rebecca   Sullivan’s   amazing   vocal   range   and   rhythmic   styling   shines  through  in  this  band  tour  de  force.    A;er  an  ensemble  lead-­‐in,  Bob  Winter  evokes  Fats  Waller’s  original  instrumental  version,  and  Rebecca  joins  him,  solo,   for   a   romanCc  turn.   Jimmy  Mazzy   joins   in   on   banjo  with   a   subtle  background   reminiscent   of   Freddie   Green   in   the   Basie   Band,   but   with  delicious   single-­‐string   counterpoint.   As   Ted   Casher   enters,   the   swing  intensifies,   and   shortly,  as  Bo  Winiker   and   Herb   Gardner   join   the  party,  there’s  a  sense  of   everyone’s  breathing   together,   exchanging   liNle   ideas  and  deep  emoCons,   and   a  growing,   expanding   vision  of   the  possibiliCes  

inherent   in  the  song.  As  you’ll  note  all  through  the  recording,  when  Rebecca  focuses  in  on  Herb’s  trombone,  she  gets  deep   into   the   contralto   range,  where  with   Bo,   she  extends  some   3   octaves   up.   But   it’s   not   worked;   it’s   seamless,  effortless,  all  in  the  service  of  sublime  improvised  jazz!

Track  2:    St.  James  Infirmary:

If  there  was  ever  any  doubt  about  Jimmy  Mazzy’s  depth  as  a  blues  singer,  this  song,  from  its  searching  beginning   to   its  devastaCngly   hearTelt   ending,   will   lay   it   to   rest.   The   instrumental   solos   build   powerfully,   even   ominously.   Bob’s  ceremonial  chords,  summoning  a  vision  of  an  organ  in  a  cathedral,  seems  to  let  out  the  stops  to  the  breaking  point  when  Eli  joins  him  for  a  four-­‐handed,  climaCc  crescendo.  This  sCrs  the  band  to  new  heights  of  passion,  with  Bo  wailing  as  he’s  never   wailed   before.   Jimmy   takes   it   out   in   a   reprise   of   the  beginning,   offering   a   spontaneous,   spine-­‐Cngling   coda  accompanied  by  a  heavenly,  spiritual  band  response,  summoning  “Joshua  Fit  the  BaNle  of  Jericho.”    

Track  3:  Oh  By  Jingo

Bob  Winter's  delighTul  treatment  of  Albert  Von  Tilzer's  1919  Tin  Pan  Alley  hit  displays  his  powerhouse  le;  hand.  Could  this   be   propelled   one   wonders,   by   the   father   of   Harlem   stride,   James   P.   Johnson?   Or   are   the   many   4/4   le;   hand  backgrounds  inspired  by  Errol  Garner?    With  Bob,  the  scholar  and  Berklee  professor,  there  are  myriad  influences,  but  he  bears  an  integrated,  keenly  personal  style,  always  driven  by  unfolding  ideas,  a  secure  beat,  and  fascinaCng  voicings  and  harmonic  subsCtuCons.   Especially   toward   the   end,  Bob  brings  to  bear   a  virtuosic   two-­‐fisted   improvisaCon  extending  across  the  keyboard  with  colors  and  dazzling  traversals.  Did  Johnson’s  student,  Art  Tatum,  overtake  Bob’s  consciousness?    No,  for   sure,   this  is  the  disCncCve  Bob  Winter  wit,  wisdom,  and   deep  comprehension   of   the  enCre  arc  of   jazz  piano  improvisaCon,  summoned  from  an  unparalleled  paleNe  of  expressive  tools.

Note   Bob's   understated   sense   of   humor,   too,  with   dramaCc   shi;s   in  which  hand  carries   the  melody,   an   astounding  sudden  pause  that  ushers  in  the  last  stanza,  an  a  sublimely  silly  next-­‐to-­‐last  note  that  almost  sounds  like  a  mistake.    UnCl  

Eli & The Hot Six LIVE track by track

by e. newberger

a  Cny  pause  and  shaNering  chord.  One  can’t  but  wonder  whether  Bob  was  recalling  Lew  Brown's  lyrics  to  “Oh  By  Jingo,”  which  gave  rise  to  more  than  a  decade's  worth  of  absurd,  exoCc  songs  in  nonexistent  tongues  and  places.

Track  4:  Perdido

Ted   Casher’s   eloquent   solo   tenor   sax   builds   a   rhythmic   foundaCon   for   this   splendid   song   wriNen   by   Juan   Tizol,   a  trombonist  in  the  Ellington  band.    Here,  without  rehearsal,  Rebecca  jumps  in  almost  as  an  instrumental  voice,  extending  chorus  a;er  chorus  of  melodic  variaCons,  counter-­‐rhythms,  and  liNle  conversions  with  clarinet,  trumpet,  and  trombone.    One  can  hear  why  Bob  and  the  horn  players,  steeped  in  this  music  and,  indeed,  knowing  the  passing  harmonies  and  final  ensemble  riffs  like  the  backs  of   their   hands,   love  her   so  much.  Rebecca’s  sense  of   style,  and  delight   in   this  unfolding  drama  —  totally  unrehearsed  and  never-­‐before  performed  with  the  band.  She  has  reason  to  giggle  at  the  end!

Track  5:  Chinatown  My  Chinatown

Jimmy  Mazzy  sings  it   in  solo,  accompanied  only  by  his  banjo,  as  in  St.  James  Infirmary.  But  is  the  mood  ever  different!    The  song   begins  quietly,   even  romanCcally,  with  sweet  memories,  and   expands  and  expands   to   Jeff   Guthery’s  terrific  drum  solo,  a  tuba  solo  that  rises  and  rises  through  whirling  phrases  to  a  sudden  two-­‐octave  rip  up  to  middle  C,  and  Bob’s  two   rockeCng   choruses,   the   second   provoking   an   epidemic   of   off-­‐beat   hand-­‐clapping.   Chinatown   is   thus   equally  remembered  for  the  raucous,  tourisCc  good-­‐Cmes  celebrated  in  the  Turk  Murphy  Dixieland  revival.    But  this  is  4/4,  not  oom-­‐pah,  oom-­‐pah,  and  not  one  but  three  4-­‐bar  tags,  on  drums,  banjo,  and  piano,  carry  it  to  a  smashing  end,  with  Bob’s  eerie  fourths,  fi;hs  and  curious  pineapple  chord  adding  just  the  right  touch  of  Orientalism.

Track  6:  Body  and  Soul

No   tenor   sax   player   can  meet   this  emoConal   and   arCsCc   challenge  without   a  respecTul   contemplaCon  of   Coleman  Hawkins  and  Lester  Young’s  iconic  interpretaCons.  Ted  Casher  offers  just  a  few  wisps  of   salute,  Cny  quotes,  really,  in  this  deeply  affecCng  and  highly  personal  version.    Listen  for   that  disCnctly  Casher,  in-­‐your-­‐face,  confident  tenor  sound,  the  sense  of   inspired  exploraCon,  of  pulling  from  the  instrument  occasional  growls,  squeaks,  and  Klezmerisms  that  bespeak  passion  and  -­‐-­‐  it  must  be  said  —  love.

Track  7:  I  Can’t  Give  You  Anything  But  Love

Here,   Bob   Winter   offers   an   excursion   across   the   history   of   jazz,   while   Rebecca   Sullivan   evokes   the   senCments   of  emoConal  wealth  in  a  landscape  of  conversaCons  with  the  guys  in  the  band,  even  laughing  at  one  game  improvisaConal  effort.    So  delighTul  are  those  exchanges  that  an  aNempt  is  made  by  the  tuba  to  imitate  Jeff's  drum  licks  in  a  parCcular  chorus  of  trades.  Neither  does  this  work  perfectly,  except  insofar  as  the  message,  and  the  legacy,  of  the  “I  Can’t  Give  You  Anything  But  Love”   is  a  struggle  against  underlying   imperfecCon.   This  is  also  what  jazz   is   about,   and   isn’t  about.   It’s  honest  expression  of  ideas  and  feelings,  risk-­‐taking,  and  ought  never  to  be  just  a  display  of  technical  wizardry.

Track  8:  Bei  Mir  Bist  Du  Schoen

Oy,  does  Ted  Casher  lay  this  one  out,  or  what?  In  vintage  Casher  form,  he  begins  the  verse  with  a  conundrum.  What  do  you  think?    Is  he  saying  “Of  all  the  goils  I’ve  know,  and  I’ve  known  some,”  or  “Of  all  the  goys  I’ve  known,  and  I’ve  known  some?”  With  Ted,   it  could  be  either,  or  possibly,  both?  Unlike  the  Andrews  Sisters’,  Ted's  version  of  the  swing  classic  is  replete  with  memories  of   growing  up  in  Skowhegan,  Maine,  speaking   Yiddish.  Not  only   does  Ted  sing   with   gusto  and  bravado,  when  he  grabs  his  clarinet,  he  instantly  produces  another  show:  astounding,  up-­‐and-­‐down  spirals  of   Klezmer,  which  he  speaks  as  if  it,  too  were  his  first  language.    

Track  9:  Just  Squeeze  Me  (But  Please  Don’t  Tease  Me)

It  was  Rebecca’s  menConing  this  song  as  one  of  her  favorites  that  led  to  her  invitaCon  to  sit  in  on  a  quartet  gig  with  Bob,  Jimmy,  Ted,  and  Eli,  performing  as  the  Jazz  Tuber  Quartet  at  the  Sherborn  Inn.  Subsequently,  a  steady  gig  was  offered  on  the  first  Thursday  of   the  month,  and  riding  together  with  Bob  and  Eli,  her  song  list  grew  even  as  Bo  and  Herb  joined  the  band  and  we  started  this  recording  project.  Here,  Bob  is  once  again,  in  a  kind  of  didacCc  form,  as  always  with  delicious  

truth  on  his  side.    He  speaks  Ellington  like  Ted  Casher  speaks  Klezmer.  Rebecca’s  own  sincerity  and  appreciaCon  of  both  the  tradiCon  and  these  (gulp,  older)  players  is  expressed  with  an  imitable,  ingenuous,  youthful  sweetness.

Track  10:  Them  There  Eyes

Here,  a  more  rapid  and  complex  song  of  allure  pushes  the  band  to  more  exoCc  improvisatory  terrain.  Hearing  the  banjo  in  Jimmy’s  hands  work  through  the  shi;ing  changes  is  a  kind  of  revelaCon,  where  Rebecca’s  growing   intensity,  through  splendid,  scalloping  tags  at  the  end.  Somehow,  Bud  Powell  found  his  way  into  Eli’s  tuba,  emerging  in  a  curly  bop-­‐inspired  improvisaCon  over  3  octaves.

Track  11:  Charlie  on  the  MTA

Boston's  raNletrap  public  transportaCon  system  has  been  put  to  test  in  the  winter  of  this  CD’s  producCon,  and  our  new  MassachuseNs  governor   is   called   “Charlie.”  He’s  a  Republican.     Surely,   some  kind  of   dedicaCon   is  certainly   in  order,  although   it   might   contradict   with   Ted’s   call   to   DemocraCc   Boston   voters:   “Fight   the   fare   increase,   vote   for   Tommy  Menino,  and  get  Charlie  off  the  MTA.”    The  band  performed  this  song  on  May  1,  2014,  as  a  musical  keepsake  for  Rebecca  who   received   her   M.M.   degree   from   New   England   Conservatory   and   moved   to   New   York   shortly   a;erward.   Now,  hopefully,  she’ll  recall  even  more  favorably  our  good  Cmes  at  the  Sherborn  Inn.

Track  12:  Tiger  Rag

Randy  Reinhart,  the  brilliant  New  York  corneCst,  drove  from  New  York  to  Boston  to  fill  in  for  Bo  Winiker  on  January  14,  2014.    

Leaning  more,  perhaps,  to  the  legacy  of  Spike  Jones  than  to  the  New  Orleans  ensembles  who  put  this  rag  together,  this  version  of  one  of   the  most  frequently  recorded  jazz  standards  features  instrumental  virtuosity,  boffo  humor,  and  a  keen  sense  of  ensemble  collaboraCon.    

Note,   for   example,   Ted's   klezmer   clarinet   inflecCons   and   pop   song   quotaCons,   the   confusion,   graciously   resolved,  between  Bob  and  Jeff  on  whose  solo  it  was,  Jeff's  brilliant,  silent  drum  break  in  vivid  contrast  to  the  nonsense  that  went  before,  the  split-­‐second  realizaCon  by   Ted,  Randy,  and  Herb  that  Bob  was  going   to  conCnue  a;er  his  solo  break  in  the  following  chorus,  and  how  Randy  -­‐-­‐  all  the  while  compleCng  a  virtuosic  improvisaCon  -­‐-­‐  signals  in  jazz  sign-­‐language  that  the  band  should  modulate  to  B  flat  for  the  following,  final  chorus.  (Two  fingers  down  signify  two  flats,  the  key  signature  of  B  flat  major.  Such  a  last-­‐minute  key  change  adds  surprise  and  intensity  to  the  mix.  It  can  be  overdone.)

Of   course,   there's   an   abundance   -­‐-­‐   overdoing,   for   sure!   -­‐-­‐   of   Cger   evocaCons,   although   Herb's   growling   trombone  suggests  more  a  sweetly  purring  kiNen  than  Eli's  rampaging  beast.  Over-­‐the-­‐top  humor  is  a  vital  element  in  this  beloved  jazz  tradiCon,  and  were  we  ever  having  a  ball!