Tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine (1934-2000) is best remembered for his string of Blue Note albums in the sixties and a brief foray at CTI in the early seventies, particularly his 1970 “breakout” Sugar. In 1974, Turrentine left CTI for a much more lucrative contract with Berkeley-based Fantasy Records, a label that was home at the time to Cannonball Adderley, Kenny Burrell, Cal Tjader, Charlie Byrd and The Blackbyrds.
The Pittsburgh-born Turrentine recorded nine studio records for Fantasy between 1974 and 1980 (he also recorded four discs for the pop-oriented Elektra Records between 1979 and 1982) that were considerably more crossover oriented than anything he ever did at CTI – with the possible exception of his 1980 Fantasy finale, Use the Stairs.
To wit, Fantasy issued no less than 10 Turrentine singles during the tenor saxophonist’s six-year tenure with the label while CTI issued only two Turrentine singles during his three-year stay there. Yet, most remarkably, what is probably Turrentine’s best-known Fantasy recording, the title track to his 1974 label debut, Pieces of Dreams, was never even issued as a single.1
Turrentine previously had Blue Note albums arranged by jazz greats Oliver Nelson and Thad Jones and CTI records arranged by younger crossover kings like Deodato and Bob James.
But his Fantasy albums were helmed by much more commercially-disposed arrangers like Gene Page – famed at the time for his work with Barry White and the Love Unlimited Orchestra – Motown veteran David Van De Pitte and Wade Marcus, another Motown maestro who funked up early seventies Blue Note albums by Grant Green, Bobbi Humphrey and Bobby Hutcherson, Donald Byrd and Horace Silver.
In 1977, Fantasy brilliantly paired its star tenor saxophonist with the German composer, arranger and conductor Claus Ogerman (1930-2016). It’s a genuinely inspired combination.
After moving to New York in 1959, Ogerman – who had previously worked with German bandleaders Kurt Edelhagen and Max Greger – quickly found work writing and arranging for many pop acts like Ben E. King, Solomon Burke, The Drifters, Lesley Gore, Connie Francis and Gene Pitney (all of which he would later disregard as not worthy of any attention).
Ogerman would develop a particularly strong bond with producer Creed Taylor at Verve Records in the early sixties, working on crossover records by Little Eva, Kai Winding, Jack Teagarden, Johnny Hodges and Pat Thomas.
Against all odds, Taylor proposed that Ogerman arrange Brazilian composer and musician Antonio Carlos Jobim’s American debut, The Composer of ‘Desafinado’, Plays (1963). It was a fateful decision. Not only did the record launch Jobim’s worldwide success, the breathtakingly subtle arrangements catapulted Ogerman to the first tier of jazz arrangers.
Ogerman went on to arrange superlative albums by Bill Evans, Stan Getz, Wes Montgomery, Cal Tjader and Oscar Peterson and shared many more album credits with Jobim, from 1967’s landmark Wave through 1980’s Terra Brasilis (about the time Ogerman began devoting himself to his more classically-oriented work). By 1977, Ogerman was, though, best known for his contributions to George Benson’s hit-laden records In Flight (1977) and, of course, the guitarist and vocalist’s “breakout” hit Breezin’ (1976).
The Turrentine and Ogerman pairing , however, yielded two highly underrated and largely forgotten records on the Fantasy label, Nightwings (1977) and West Side Highway (1978). Both discs were likely recorded at the same time, in June and July 1977, leading one to wonder whether a double-disc set was originally planned. In any case, we have two records well worth remembering.
It may surprise some that Stanley Turrentine’s more celebrated Blue Note and CTI discs are not among his most popular recordings. Turrentine’s Fantasy records remain the best-selling records of his whole career. Indeed, seven of the nine albums the saxophonist waxed for the label all cracked the Top 100 of the Billboard 200. (By comparison, Turrentine’s best-known, or most well-regarded album, the CTI classic Sugar, only reached 182.)
While neither album under discussion here is much talked about – or heard – today, they both rank among Turrentine’s best-selling albums. Nightwings reached number 84, but West Side Highway remains Stanley Turrentine’s highest-ranking album of all time, reaching an impressive number 63 – even outranking what is often perceived as the tenor player’s most popular outing, the 1974 album Pieces of Dreams, which excelled to number 69.
Given all that, neither Nightwings nor West Side Highway transitioned well, if at all, in to the digital or streaming ages. West Side Highway was briefly issued on CD in Japan in 1998 and Nightwings was never reissued at all. Unlike the tenor saxophonist’s catalog on other labels, Turrentine’s Fantasy work has hardly been recognized or acknowledged, apart from a CD reissue of Pieces of Dreams and the compilation On a Misty Night (2002), which oddly combines Have You Ever Seen the Rain (1975) and Use the Stairs (1980).
But let us turn now to the two gems Turrentine and Ogerman waxed for the Fantasy label.
Nightwings is a mostly ballad affair, an area where Turrentine has always excelled. But, as ever, it’s the up-tempo numbers where Turrentine excites. Here, those sides are limited to the kick-off track, “Papa T,” which was also issued as a single, and a marvelously spirited take on Joe Zawinul’s “Birdland.”
Many in the rhythm section here accompanied Turrentine on his previous Fantasy album, The Man with the Sad Face (1976), including Stuff-mates Eric Gale and Cornell Dupree on guitars, Paul Griffin on keyboards, Charles Collins on drums, Crusher Bennet on percussion and a surprisingly unrecognizable Ron Carter on bass (on three tracks only).
Strings and horns are deployed in mostly subtle ways, but the horn section includes such notables as trombonist Urbie Green (a CTI soloist at the time and frequent asset in Ogerman’s orchestral palette), flautist Hubert Laws and trumpeter Randy Brecker. Like Turrentine, of course, Laws, Carter and Gale were all veteran CTI All Stars as well.
Originals here include Stanley’s typically riff-y “Papa T,” replete with a signature Eric Gale solo (his is the only solo on the record that’s not by the tenor saxophonist), brother Tommy’s delightful “Joao” (presumably named for João Gilberto, whose 1977 album Amoroso Ogerman had most recently arranged) and Ogerman’s rather undistinguished and soundtrack-ish “Nightwings.”
The only AM radio hit on the set is Starsky & Hutch star David Soul’s 1976 number-one hit “Don’t Give Up On Us.” It’s hardly the best choice that could have been made, yet Turrentine can’t help but inject a welcome dose of soul into this otherwise rather bland ballad.
The soulful “If You Don’t Believe,” originally from Deniece Williams’s 1976 Maurice White-produced debut This is Niecy, would have made a nice single choice. This is the sort of cover that is tailor-made for Turrentine’s tough yet tender approach. But the song didn’t even merit a single release from Williams, further making it an ideal choice for Turrentine.
The all-too little known “There’s Music in the Air” originally appeared on the 1976 album of that name by the great South African vocalist Letta Mbulu. That album – produced by Herb Alpert – remains one of Mbulu’s best. But here, Turrentine and Ogerman give the ballad a welcome bluesy spin that, like “If You Don’t Believe,” could have worked well on R&B – and jazz – radio stations of the day. It deserved a shot, anyway.
“Birdland,” of course, is the well-known Joe Zawinul classic originally performed by the jazz-fusion pioneers Weather Report. Around this time, drummer Buddy Rich and Maynard Ferguson had also cut notable and worthy versions of this joyous ode to both the fabled New York City night spot and jazz legend Charlie “Bird” Parker, who the club was named for.
Turrentine’s “Birdland” is driven expertly by Gary King’s signature funky bass (matching patterns he offered to Mark Colby’s superb take on Earth, Wind and Fire’s “Serpentine Fire”). But hearing Turrentine’s own signature tenor take the lead here is something of a revelation: he commands the song much more than Wayne Shorter’s soprano does on the original.
The rhythm arrangement (presumably Ogerman’s) ramps up the tune’s already inherent funk. But Ogerman’s subtle horn and string embellishments add another level of sonic joy to this true classic of jazz.
Nightwings was issued in August 1978 – with a fine cover photograph by Fantasy house photographer Phil Bray – to generally favorable reviews. “This is good slick popular jazz and soul—or whatever one wants to call it,” enthused DownBeat in its four-star (!) review. “The overall production…is more sympathetic to Stanley’s sound and style than some of his other Fantasy outings.2
An engaging three-minute-and-20-second edit of “Papa T” was issued as a single (backed by a three-minute-and-eight second edit of the tune as “Part II”). The a-side of the single probably lingers on the solo longer than necessary, which may have prevented it from receiving wider airplay. (A wiser radio-friendly version of “Papa T” would have been to give Turrentine one chorus of a solo then cut to about the five-minute mark, where the melody is resumed and fade.)
Nightwings has, surprisingly, never been reissued on CD or streaming services. But “Joao” and “Nightwings” were featured on the 1989 compilation The Best of Mr. T while Claus Ogerman himself selected “If You Don’t Believe” to include in his four-disc career-length retrospective Claus Ogerman: The Man Behind the Music (2002). Of “If You Don’t Believe,” Ogerman wrote:
“This track had escaped me completely and I was surprised to rediscover what a convincing record this is. Turrentine had this emotional tone and phrased almost like a soul singer (David Sanborn’s emotion and phrasing strikes me as similar). Players like him can ‘get to you,’ like the ‘preaching’ trombone playing of Bill Harris.”3
West Side Highway may well be one of Stanley Turrentine’s best post-CTI efforts. Although the leader is surrounded by many of the same players who peopled Nightwings, the program is considerably stronger, with the jazz content much more prominent than on the earlier effort.
Again, the rhythm section features Paul Griffin on keyboards (and mostly piano!), Eric Gale, Cornell Dupree and Lloyd Davis on guitar (for various cuts). Charles Collins and Grady Tate split the drum duties on three tracks apiece and Erroll “Crusher” Bennett again mans the percussion.
Both Ron Carter and Gary King (for “Stan’s Thing” only) return, but Carter’s presence and considerable personality is not only more prominent here than on the earlier record, the bassist contributes much more winningly to the success of the five tracks on which he does appear.
The set is mostly up-tempo numbers, perfectly balanced by two well-chosen ballads. There is no concession to pop radio fodder or contemporary R&B, making West Side Highway one of Stanley Turrentine’s more solidly jazz-oriented efforts of the late seventies and early eighties.
Things get off to a great start with a lively take of the familiar jazz standard “Walkin.'”4 Turrentine is in top form, with solos by Eric Gale, Paul Griffin and Carter (whose solo is nicely accented by Claus Ogerman’s lovely string washes, something that reminds this listener of Quincy Jones’s early string work).
The ballad “Ann, Wonderful One” started life as “Ann” (1940) by the Earl Hines Orchestra with vocalist Billy Eckstein – both of whom, like Turrentine, were natives of Pittsburgh. Presumably, the song’s lyricist, Charles Carpenter, is related to Richard Carpenter somehow as Richard had previously produced the song as “Ann, Wonderful One” for Chet Baker in 1964 and Dizzy Gillespie in 1970. Turrentine is beautifully buoyed here by Carter’s bass and Ogerman’s sumptuous strings.
An unexpected, though pleasant, surprise comes in the form of Mr. T.’s reprise of his signature song, “Sugar.” The T man is beautifully accompanied here by Ron Carter (who was on the original and who solos majestically here) and Eric Gale (who also solos…George Benson was the guitarist on the original), both of whom are fellow CTI All Stars. Ogerman’s strings add a welcome bit of sweetening (pun intended) that give the song a new dimension. But the strings on the song’s outro curiously recall Bob James’s strings on Turrentine’s 1973 recording of “Don’t Mess With Mister T.”
A full three songs (“Hudson Parkway,” “Peace of Mind,” “Stan’s Thing”) are given over to guitarist and songwriter Clarence “Sonny” Henry (b. 1932). Henry is best known composing “Evil Ways” while in percussionist Willie Bobo’s band. Santana turned the song in to a Top 10 hit in 1970, making “Evil Ways” a very well-covered tune for jazz, rock and Latin groups.
Turrentine himself kicked off his 1976 Fantasy album The Man with the Sad Face – itself named for a Sonny Henry tune – with a devilishly funky version of Henry’s “Evil Ways.”
“Hudson Parkway” is a swinging blues that Ogerman opens with an anachronistic horn section that recalls those New York-oriented records Kenyon Hopkins waxed in the early sixties. But we dig right in to Henry’s catchy melody, delivered effectively by the tenor saxophonist in concert with a flautist who is most likely no less than Turrentine’s fellow former CTI All Star, Hubert Laws.
Turrentine’s solo here is a delight: he swings the changes in his typically meaty, yet easy-going style, propelled by Carter’s dynamic figures and Tate’s faultless rhythm-a-ning. “Hudson Parkway” also boasts a tasty solo by guitarist Lloyd Davis, a studio player affiliated with Bernard Purdie and several Groove Merchant albums in the early seventies. Oddly, Davis seems to have vanished from the recording scene almost immediately after waxing these Turrentine sides.
“Peace of Mind” is a soulful ballad that gets the same sort of lush, yet subtle string treatment Ogerman so elegantly deployed on the George Benson albums of the period. For that reason, it seems that Fantasy might well have taken a chance on releasing “Peace of Mind” as a single. It could have better tapped in to the energy the Benson records generated at that time rather than yet another cover of the decades-old “Walkin’.”
“Stan’s Thing” is a funk number that perfectly captures, well Stan’s thing. Here, Carter steps aside to let Gary King provide his signature fat (and fatback) popping bass. It’s not disco, but some of King’s licks nearly take it there. In addition to Stan’s terrifically engaging solo, pianist Paul Griffin delivers a fiery solo of his own.
Stanley Turrentine would continue featuring Sonny Henry tunes on such later LPs as 1978’s What About You! (“Heritage”), 1979’s Betcha (“You,” “Long Time Gone,” “Together Again”), 1980’s Inflation (“Ghana”).
Released in March 1978, West Side Highway looked to be promising for the saxophonist. A 3:36 edit of “Walkin'” was issued as single, backed with “Ann, Wonderful One.” It would prove to be the last of the Turrentine singles issued by Fantasy. The single never really factored, but the album – as jazz-oriented as it was – was also one of Stanley Turrentine’s most successful records ever. It’s also an artistic triumph as well.
West Side Highway was, like Nightwings, especially well-received by the jazz press: “Of Stanley Turrentine’s recent albums for the Fantasy label,” wrote Downbeat, in its three-and-a-half star review, “this may be the most focused, least cluttered production he’s done. …This is satisfying Turrentine that makes you want to move and pop your fingers. It’s Stanley Turrentine with space to swing.”5 Indeed.
The disc was only issued on CD in Japan in 1998 and remains to this day officially unavailable for streaming. But “Walkin'” and “Sugar” were featured on the 1989 compilation The Best of Mr. T, while Claus Ogerman himself selected “Walkin'” to include on to include in his four-disc career-length retrospective Claus Ogerman: The Man Behind the Music (2002).
West Side Highway is one of the very best Stanley Turrentine records outside of the CTI and Blue Note labels – although the sound on the Fantasy record is nowhere near as rich or as deep as on so many of those Rudy Van Gelder recordings – and, musically, would surely land in the top ten of the entirety of the tenor player’s four-decade catalog.
Endnotes:
- Turrentine had previously recorded “Pieces of Dreams” (arranged by Bob James) for his CTI record Don’t Mess with Mister T. in 1973, but space did not allow for the song’s inclusion on the original LP. When the Gene Page-arranged version appeared in late 1974, CTI felt sufficiently challenged to exploit the song’s hit potential by rush releasing the earlier version on a compilation titled The Sugar Man in early 1975. ↩︎
- DownBeat, January 26, 1978, p. 26. ↩︎
- Ogerman, Claus. “Annotations by Claus Ogerman.” Liner Notes, “Claus Ogerman: The Man Behind the Music.” Claus Ogerman et. al., Boutique (Universal Jazz Germany), 2002. ↩︎
- The jazz staple “Walkin’” has a long, strange history. The song has long been credited to Richard Carpenter, a shady agent who made sleazy deals with desperate jazz musicians. Carpenter, who is listed as “Production Coordinator” on both Nightwings and West Side Highway and who apparently couldn’t read a note of music, would give musicians a little bit of money for a song, then claim it as his own. Evidently jazz musician Jimmy Mundy (1907-83), a composer and arranger for Benny Goodman, Count Basie, Dizzy Gillespie and others, wrote a song called “Gravy” (a.k.a. “Gravey”). Gene Ammons, who sometimes gets credit for the song himself, recorded “Gravy” for a single in 1950. By the time Miles Davis came to record the song in March 1954, “Gravy” had somehow become “Weirdo” and Miles Davis was listed as composer. A month later, Davis recorded the song as “Walkin’” and Richard Carpenter was now its composer. In its many subsequent covers, the song has been known as “Walkin’” and Richard Carpenter has been listed as composer. Then, after Mundy’s death, the song’s Library of Congress certificate was discovered. On it, the song’s original title and writer were erased (!) and “Walkin’” and “Richard Carpenter” were written in. Another origin story has it that Miles Davis wrote the tune and credited it to “his friend” Richard Carpenter, so the poor guy could collect the royalties. Does anyone really believe Miles Davis did that? ↩︎
- DownBeat, August 10, 1978, p. 34. ↩︎