Revisiting A&M Records No. 23
Antônio Carlos Jobim: ‘Wave’ (October ‘67)
To better appreciate what a peacock feather this impeccable classic was in Alpert’s & Moss’s twin-fitting cap, then and now, it might help if we reassessed all that came in the five years since the label launched with ‘The Lonely Bull’ in ’62.
To wit:
Eight gold-selling LPs from its foundational talent, Herb Alpert and his Tijuana Brass, including their big Grammy winner with the scintillating cover, ‘Whipped Cream and Other Delights.’ In second place: Julius Wechter and his Baja Marimba Band, who had just released their fifth disc, ‘Heads Up!’
Sérgio Mendes and his retooled Brasil ‘66 ensemble had burst onto the scene the previous fall, alongside the Sandpipers’s breakout rendition of ‘Guantanamera’ and the remodeling of teen idol Chris Montez into a soft-pop singer. Claudine Longet had debuted in April. Burt Bacharach, a signing as significant as acquiring Jobim, began his A&M era soon thereafter.
They’d put out two Captain Beefheart singles but passed on more; We Five, the Bay Area folkies of ‘You Were on My Mind,’ were more their speed. Rock had just begun to appear on their radar; by the end of the Summer of Love they only had debuts from Procol Harum and Boyce & Hart in their catalog.
And that about covers it. In other words: a fine takeoff for a lengthy flight about to accelerate rapidly. A roster about to expand exponentially across the next five years.
Enter jazz legend Creed Taylor, who inks a subsidiary deal with A&M for his own initialized upstart, CTI Records. First release: Wes Montgomery’s ‘A Day in the Life,’ the memorable work that kicked off this revisionist series.
Then came the maestro from Rio.
Jobim, who had turned 40 earlier in ‘67, was already a touted sensation, his career rising almost parallel to Bacharach’s. Two years earlier he’d contributed piano and co-wrote all but one song on the landmark jazz set ‘Getz/Gilberto.’ Though its title stars — and João Gilberto’s young wife Astrud — garnered the awards, equal attention was paid to Jobim’s stylish compositions, several of which became immediate and enduring standards: ‘The Girl from Ipanema,’ ‘Desafinado,’ ‘Corcovado.’
Suddenly every respectable pop singer wanted to try her/his hand at bossa nova. Some, like Ol’ Blue Eyes, managed to cull some of their best work in years out of the form; his collaborative album ‘Frank Sinatra & Antônio Carlos Jobim’ was justifiably greeted with raves when it arrived in March ‘67 and is still considered among the best sets from the Chairman’s Reprise years.
Yet, despite plenty of striking standouts on earlier LPs for Verve and Warner Bros. — including a hodgepodge from the latter just two months before A&M issued this cornerstone of the CTI catalog — Jobim had yet to issue a consummate work all his own. Not merely a showcase lacquered in syrupy strings but a proper self-portrait capturing the full scope of his artistry.Jobim, who had turned 40 earlier in ‘67, was already a touted sensation, his career rising almost parallel to Bacharach’s. Two years earlier he’d contributed piano and co-wrote all but one song on the landmark jazz set ‘Getz/Gilberto.’ Though its title stars — and João Gilberto’s young wife Astrud — garnered the awards, equal attention was paid to Jobim’s stylish compositions, several of which became immediate and enduring standards: ‘The Girl from Ipanema,’ ‘Desafinado,’ ‘Corcovado.’
Suddenly every respectable pop singer wanted to try her/his hand at bossa nova. Some, like Ol’ Blue Eyes, managed to cull some of their best work in years out of the form; his collaborative album ‘Frank Sinatra & Antônio Carlos Jobim’ was justifiably greeted with raves when it arrived in March ‘67 and is still considered among the best sets from the Chairman’s Reprise years.
Yet, despite plenty of striking standouts on earlier LPs for Verve and Warner Bros. — including a hodgepodge from the latter just two months before A&M issued this cornerstone of the CTI catalog — Jobim had yet to issue a consummate work all his own. Not merely a showcase lacquered in syrupy strings but a proper self-portrait capturing the full scope of his artistry.
That changed with ‘Wave,’ sublime quintessence that still figures prominently anytime critics, guitarists and jazzbos are polled about the greatest jazz recordings of this or any era.
Jobim provides both its beguiling piano figures and liltingly rhythmic fretwork, not to mention the dreamy charts themselves, from the alluring title opener to pretty pieces called ‘Triste’ and ‘Lamento’ (the only tune on which Jobim sings) that are anything but ‘sad’ and ‘sorry’ to the closing click-clack of ‘Captain Bacardi.’
Its rich luster, perfectly placed instrumentation and beautifully balanced mix has more to do, I suspect, with engineer Rudy Van Gelder, at whose storied studio in Jersey these tracks were cut. Creed Taylor himself produced, which hardly hurt.
The focus, however, is purely Jobim’s — and for the first time he sounds not like a sensation morphed to suit someone else’s marketplace vision, but a true artist in full control of his creativity, effortlessly exhibiting an unparalleled mastery of musical form. Essential listening, brought to you by A&M.