Jazz Records

When he left the Paris Conservatory in 1953, fringe-bearded French Pianist-Composer Jacques Loussier, now 27, took a hasty look at the world of classical music--and decided it was no place to earn a living. "I thought," says he, "it was time to tear down the barriers between jazz and classic.'' Loussier knew just the man to help him: Johann Sebastian Bach.

Loussier figured he could "produce jazz harmonies without disturbing the harmonies of Bach." He rounded up a bass fiddle and some drums, and started noodling his way through the Bach fugues and preludes, "looking for passages that could be swung." He found them--or made them--and the result was an album titled Play Bach (Decca Disques). It sold briskly. Encouraged, Loussier recorded Play Bach, No. 2 and most recently turned to the Italian Concerto, Chromatic Fantasy and Two-Part Inventions as the inspiration for Play Bach, No. 3.

In limited doses, Loussier-Bach is fascinating. Each number contains a few snatches of unadulterated Bach, and Loussier uses those snatches as an excuse for wheeling off into sweet, cajoling solos or bouncing into a marching, brutish beat.

But strange things are happening: each album in the series is becoming less jazzy and more classical. The day could come when all Loussier's products will be pure Johann Sebastian Bach.

Other new records: Clark Terry Color Changes (Candid).

Alternately fresh, brash and mellow statements by a trumpeter whose playing is full of oddball humor, off-center insinuations, and piquant flurries. Such numbers as Blue Waltz and La Rive Gauche give him a fine chance to stretch his ideas.

Chicago and All That Jazz (Verve).

A reunion of McKenzie-Condon's Chicagoans--the band organized by Guitarist Eddie Condon and Kazooist Red McKenzie in the 1920s. Among those present: Condon, Saxophonist Bud Freeman, Bass Player Bob Haggart, Drummer Gene Krupa, Trumpeter Jimmy McPartland, Clarinetist Pee Wee Russell, Pianist Joe Sullivan, Trombonist Jack Teagarden. Their enthusiasm has withered little with the years. The album is a remarkable recreation of a style 40 years dead--a style that is reborn in Sullivan's honky-tonk piano and Russell's keening clarinet and, most delightfully, in Teagarden's lumpy but moving vocals in Logan Square and After You've Gone.

Swingin' with Humes (Helen Humes; Contemporary). A singer with an infinitely stretchable, rubber-lined beat and a feel for a smoothly sculptured phrase bounces in high good humor through some dark laments: When Day Is Done, Baby Won't You Please Come Home, Solitude.

The Jazz Version of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" (the Gary McFarland Orchestra; Verve). Arranger-Bandleader McFarland achieves the all but impossible by putting some bite and character into the bland Frank Loesser score. Paris Original and Brotherhood of Man are gingery with ingenious instrumental chatter; I Believe in You turns into a fine, lightly swinging solo for Flugelhorn.

Charlie Byrd at the Village Vanguard (Offbeat). The most imaginative guitarist in jazz, assisted by bass and drums, rings changes on Just Squeeze Me, Why Was I Born?, You Stepped Out of a Dream. Byrd has flair and great rhythmic ingenuity, but he is best taken in brief selections, lest the combo's comparative sameness of color begin to weary the ear.

The Trio (Oscar Peterson, piano; Ed Thigpen, drums; Ray Brown, bass; Verve). Exercises in mutual understanding by one of the best trios in the business. Peterson contributes some lacy piano fancies against sizzling percussion in I've Never Been in Love Before; the trio glows warm with sentiment in The Night We Catted It a Day; and the mood throughout--rare in modern jazz--is of three men who are downright happy about what they play.

The Many Voices of Miriam Makeba (Kapp). Songs from South Africa, Brazil, the West Indies, by a South African singer who, with deep-dyed simplicity and without a tear in the larynx, strikes moods both poignant and compelling. The craftsmanship is there, but it rarely shows.

Desmond Blue (Paul Desmond, with strings; RCA Victor). Brubeck's wonderful saxophonist twines a husky but discreet alto around and through thickets of strings in an album lush in sound, relaxed in mood, bubbly with ideas. Nothing better in years has happened to the likes of My Funny Valentine and Then I'll Be Tired of You.

The Indispensable Duke Ellington (Duke Ellington and his Orchestra; RCA Victor). The Ellington of the early-to-mid-'40s, when he had newly annexed such talents as Bassist Jimmy Blanton, Saxophonist Ben Webster and Composer-Arranger Billy Strayhorn. Despite some limp efforts, the band--with its growling trumpets, its soft-centered trombones and ricocheting beat-is a delight to hear. High points: Cornetist Rex Stewart's dissertation on Morning Glory, Saxophonist Webster's languid solo in Strayhorn's Chelsea Bridge.

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