I know what you’re thinking. “David Benoit?! We’ve waited a year for a record review and it’s David Benoit?!? What the heck is Tarik doing writing about HIM?!” Weeeeell hold on there. This may seem out of place, and this is definitely the most recently-recorded music I’ve written about so far on my humble blog, but this record is major to me on a personal and musical level. With that, let’s dive into this. To the music!

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The Music

The Tune: “Waiting For Spring”

The Tune: “My Romance”

Recorded: 5 February & 25 May, 1989 in Hollywood, CA

Personnel:

• Emily Remler: Guitar
• David Benoit: Piano
• Luther Hughes: Bass
• Peter Erskine: Drums

I don’t mind sharing that until a year or two ago, I had no idea who Emily Remler was. This despite owning this album for almost 20 years. Briefly, Ms. Remler took the jazz world by storm in the 1980’s, garnering praise from jazz guitar greats like Herb Ellis and Jim Hall. Her main influences were Paul Desmond (!!!!!!), guitarist Pat Martino, and significantly Wes Montgomery, making for a heck of unique sound a collective influence that haunts much of the proceedings on this record.

As for David Benoit, he holds a special place in my heart and in my life in general. It was a Benoit CD, an album dedicated to Guaraldi’s Charlie Brown tunes, that my mother bought for me (at Best Buy of all places. It truly was a different era) when I was little kid. It was the first real jazz album (not a mixtape burned by my father) that I owned, and it in turn introduced me to Vince Guaraldi, which in turn got me truly hooked. Playing that Benoit CD 24/7, my dad dug out Benoit’s earlier album, ‘Waiting For Spring’.

I’m sure he didn’t actually intend to give me the CD, but I never returned it. I loved it, and memorized the thing in no time flat. As I got older and explored Benoit’s discography, I quickly discovered that much of his stuff wasn’t my cup of tea (electric, 1980s, etc.), but this acoustic album remained a favorite. Remler’s guitar is sublime, Benoit’s playing is tasty, and their song choices/writing is perfect.

The title track, for instance, is a wonderful bit of writing. Sounding like a spring morning, “Waiting For Spring” begins softly and cool but progressively heats up. The interplay between all four musicians during Remler’s solo is fun yet subtle, stimulating Remler in the process. For Benoit’s solo, however, the bassist begins to walk and the drummer recedes to a supportive background role, and gradually the heat gets turned up. By the time they restate the melody, they’re swinging even harder. Like any good opening tune, “Waiting For Spring” set the bar high for the rest of the record.

Consequently, it set the bar impossibly high for one tune in particular. Along with “Summertime”, I cannot stand the song “My Romance”. Maybe it’s the rather nondescript melody, the basic chords behind the nondescript melody, or (most-likely) the saccharine treatment this song seems to get. What I do know is that after hearing Benoit’s version of “My Romance” in 2002, every other version has yet to do what their version did for me.

Even with Benoit’s rubato opening, he doesn’t belabor the point. He states the melody beautifully, then goes into a coda that establishes the beat. Then, Remler comes in with her scrumptious chorded guitar to again state the melody, all while the drummer lays it down with the brushes. Again, there’s no “isn’t this gorgeous” sentimentality to the playing; they’re playing it and then they’re swinging it. Even the bass solo is hip, especially the way he wraps it up and walks into the next chorus. Well done. But possibly my favorite part is the extended vamp that Benoit and Remler use to play the tune out, jamming on a four-bar coda and trading fours as the engineer fades to black. Perfection. Nearly every other version I’ve heard treats the tune with almost TOO much respect. Benoit and company don’t, and that earns MY respect.

The rest of the music on the album is solidly in the tradition of great jazz piano. In fact, the album is a tribute of sorts to two jazz pianists. Bill Evans had just passed away when this record was made, inspiring Benoit to include tunes associated with the great pianist like Evans’ compositions “Funkallero” and “Turn Out The Stars”, as well as “My Romance”. But Benoit also included a tune from Vince Guaraldi, his hit tune “Cast Your Fate To The Wind”, and it’s another example of Benoit having his own way with a done-to-death tune and making it sound fresh as a result.

All in all, this is a great album and one that may surprise some jazz heads accustomed to ignoring jazz recorded during the 1980s. I’ll admit that David Benoit’s body of music doesn’t always let on that the man could swing, but when he put himself in the right settings, he could turn in some head-turning (and head-bobbing) performances.

The Cover

Raggy Waltz Rating: B

Considering the down-right hideous artwork endemic to jazz record albums during the 1970’s-90’s, it’s somewhat miraculous that the artwork on this album isn’t worse than it is. For instance, in what may be the biggest shocker of all, the artwork is actually relevant to the music! With the atmospheric album title, the photograph perfectly matches the record’s concept and the music within. The lone bench, piled high with snow, seems to be waiting for spring and the opportunity to be used by park-goers once again. The blue titling and the sparse white space underlines the wintery feeling. Bravo.

The Back

Taken up mostly with credits, there is a concise poem buried towards the bottom by Mr. Benoit himself that again perfectly syncs with the music. Even the portrait of Benoit is tastefully done. And yes, I left the shrink wrap on. I don’t feel as strongly about it either way as some people do, I suppose. Sometimes I remove, other times I leave it on. I’ll probably remove it at some point. But for now, it remains.

The Vinyl

Please excuse the few seconds of dead vinyl on the first tune before the tune actually starts. I did that to make sure you knew it was in fact from the record and not digital. It sounds that clean. I also recorded that first track awful hot, so the clips you hear are my fault, not the actual record’s. The vinyl itself is typical from the era, thin and bendy but quiet and of good quality. The labels are pretty basic, although the logo for GRP is kinda neat. Don’t tell anybody, but it was *digitally* recorded and *digitally* mastered.

Released in 1989 during the overlap period when vinyl was on it’s way out and CDs were taking the country by storm, GRP released this album on both formats. After having owned the CD first, I was shocked to discover that the record left off not one but two tunes that were on the CD. Interestingly, there’s no mention of this omission on the album. If you didn’t know, then I guess you just didn’t know. Undoubtedly due to limited space on the vinyl, those two missing tracks illustrated why CDs were taking over as the musical format of choice.

The Place of Acquisition

Looking back, it becomes more and more incredible how I and my friends all met up in Atlanta, Georgia in February of 2020 merely weeks before the world changed due to Covid. We all went to Criminal Records, a place I have a love-hate relationship with, and among the interesting things found was this album. There was some incredulity when my friends saw how excited I was (“all that for David Benoit?”), but I was fine with it. After years of disappointing buys at Criminal Records, this record is a rare example of a purchase from there that I was completely happy with. Ironically, the record’s title became uncomfortably accurate about three weeks later. It took a few years, but spring finally did come, allowing us all to venture back outside after a year or so of cabin fever.