Gary Burton's early pre-
ECM career can easily be sliced into fourths -- his flirtation with country music via his time spent in Nashville, working as a sideman with
Stan Getz, forming a band with
Larry Coryell, and these recordings for the
Atlantic label that saw him as more an multi-instrumentalist playing contemporary funky music. It seems
Burton was bent on fusing all of his influences, being master to none, while exploring different commercial outlets open to him as flower power waned. This double-CD of his recordings for
Atlantic had
Burton collaborating with that wide array of musicians, most notably
Keith Jarrett, violinists
Stephane Grappelli and
Seatrain's
Richard Greene, post-
Coryell guitarists
Sam Brown,
Jerry Hahn, and
Eric Gale, members of the session band
Stuff, and especially electric bass guitarist
Steve Swallow. The textures of this music vary wildly, though in a sense centered by
Burton's emerging identity on the vibraphone and refusal to musically stand still. The music works to a certain degree, but there's a feeling of doing too much, as
Burton also, at times, overdubs piano, electric keyboards, and organ. The three tracks with
Grappelli are outstanding, including the classic ballad "Here's That Rainy Day," the straight bopper "Daphne," or the easy swinger "Coquette," all well within mainstream jazz. Holdovers from his funky phase include the always relevant "Vibrafinger" with distinct guitars and danceable go-go beat, the poignant, now standard "Las Vegas Tango" which was adopted by
Carla Bley and
Gil Evans, and "Grow Your Own" which is more complex and intertwined as it develops.
Jarrett and
Burton keep the mingling a constant reality, lightly rocking during "Moonchild/In Your Quiet Place," foreshadowing their pending
ECM sonics, while the pianist's long and winding intro to "Fortune Smiles" merges from a stilted walk into a loping, lighter rock beat.
Green's overdubbed violin in a slow 4/4 love song identifies the
Burton icon "Throb," and
Burton plays solo on a quick read of "Chega de Saudade." The set is marred by two soppy pop covers -- the lame "Handbags & Gladrags," where
Burton overdubs keyboards to an unappealing level, and the pseudo-soul treatment of
Aretha Franklin's "I Never Loved a Man." For sure this is an uneven representation of what
Gary Burton would become as a true pioneer of contemporary jazz, relegating it to curio status, but there are many moments of unique musical statesmanship on this recording indicative of the changing times in jazz from the early to mid-'70s. ~ Michael G. Nastos