Alan Lee is a Melbourne musician and bandleader, a vibraphonist who was prominent in the Australian jazz scene from the 1950’s until the early 80’s. He released a number of albums with his quartet and quintet, recording for labels like Jazznote, 44 Records and Request Records, including Double Vibes: Hobbit with fellow Australian vibraphonist John Sangster on Swaggie.
His music covered the gamut of styles, beginning with a light swinging west coast jazz feel, vaguely reminiscent of the light footed Sven Liabek, and evolved through soul jazz, model, jazz/funk/fusion and into a kind classical chamber jazz as evidenced midway through this collection of his music. His though solos are incredible, one moment a blistering sea of notes, the next it’s all about touch, reaching out with delicacy and nuance.
It’s impossible not to think of Milt Jackson in the way that he plays, though though he also possesses the swing of Lionel Hampton, and its pretty clear that these two famous jazzmen were prominent reasons for picking up the mallets in the first place.
The beauty of these tunes is that though the vibraphone is prominent, it never dominantes or overpowers. Despite being a bandleader Lee has a great sense of dynamics, and is willing to be silent for long stretches, offering a greater impact when he comes back in.
His covers are astounding, at times audacious, such as Igor Stravinsky’s Dance of the Adolescents from the Rites of Spring, a dark edged electric fusion piece from 1973, and the semi classical chamber jazz of John Lewis’ Sketch. They’re paired up with Freddie Hubbard’s Little Sunflower, Milt Jackson’s classy Enchanted Lady and strangely enough a killer instrumental take on War’s The World is a Ghetto that is better than the original.
Probably the oddest piece, or at least unexpected out of all the funk, swing and groovy good times is Bailero, a composition from French composer Joseph Canteloube, from his Chants d’Auvergne suite. Here Lee enters classical territory, complete with a soprano vocalist Jeannie Lewis. Appearing midway through the album, the piece further demonstrates Lee’s astounding versatility, though is so out of step with the feel of the rest of this compilation that it can be a little jolting. Luckily it’s followed up by a glorious instrumental take on Mel Torme’s Comin Home Baby, which effortlessly gets us swinging again.
Whilst the majority of Lee’s tunes here, collected from the early 70’s, possess a light relaxed swing, the real highlight here is his ability to reinterpret and re arrange popular music of the time and make them his own. Surely that’s the mark of a good jazzman.
