Mulo Francel - Let's Getz Mulo Francel

“We’d all sound like Stan Getz… if we could.”

This famous quote comes from saxophone giant John Coltrane, who shaped modern jazz from the 1950s onward like no other through his innovative concepts: the frenzied cascades of notes known as “Sheets of Sound,” the frequent use of the fourth interval, complex harmonic structures—now firmly established in the jargon of every improvising music student as “Coltrane Changes”— pentatonic shifting, polyrhythms, and much more. Legions of jazz musicians copied him, practiced his concepts to the point of excess, and in some cases continue to carry them forward very successfully.

And yet… Let’s Getz!

Stan Getz (February 2, 1927 – June 6, 1991), in contrast to Coltrane—as harsh as that may sound—did not develop a single new musical concept. Stan’s unmistakable hallmarks were flowing melodic elegance and, above all, his warm, lyrical tone, which earned him the nickname “The Sound.” A tone whose ethereal beauty is hard to resist. A tone that reaches even the farthest corner of the concert hall with a contour that seems far larger than what a wind player alone could produce through lips, tongue, reed, and brass tube. A magnetic tone that speaks of a more beautiful world. I’ve experienced this live on numerous occasions.

Stan Getz’s sound was moving. Ever since he popularized bossa nova, he had attracted millions of listeners worldwide. But unlike Coltrane, he had hardly any successful imitators. Why? Because his individual aesthetic was one of a kind.

This album won’t change that either. Perhaps there will be critics who say, “This doesn’t even come close to the greatness of the original.” That’s true. Our recordings are merely inspired by the original ones. And everyone involved—right down to the sound engineer and cover designer—had a great time experiencing just how fresh and spirited the Let’s Getz Sessions turned out to be on the occasion of his 100th birthday. They are a musical thank-you for all the beauty Stan left behind for us.

One thing briefly puzzled me as I was learning about him: I heard several accounts suggesting he was a very complex personality—ranging from moments of innocent charm to outbursts of anger, violence, and drug abuse. Biographers and musicologists are happy to delve into that. I decided to apply the principle of separating the work from the artist in this regard—to view the art, for the time being, independently of the whims of the person who created it.

About the songs:

We’ll start with Bahia (English: “Beach”), which was a central track on the album Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd: Jazz Samba. Although that album wasn’t the first to feature a fusion of American cool jazz and Brazilian music, it did make bossa nova popular worldwide in 1962. I found the record when I was 13 in the record collection I inherited from my father —he passed away at a young age—and listened to it every day.

Stan recorded Pennies from Heaven with the Oscar Peterson Trio in 1957. The masters of swing were at work there. What a joy to listen to! We also had our own fun with it—by turning it into a bossa nova.

Getz recorded Nature Boy several times, including in a symphonic version with strings. We’re dedicating a tango version to him—with vibraphone and guitar. Stan really liked this combination, in addition to the classic jazz lineup of sax, piano, bass, and drums.

We wrote The Boy from the Bronx for Stan, though it’s really just a symmetrical mirror image of The Girl from Ipanema. We’d like to take this opportunity to express our heartfelt thanks to the great Brazilian composer Antonio Carlos Jobim!

Stan grew up in the Bronx as the son of Jewish immigrants. His family was originally from Ukraine. As a musician, he was undoubtedly firmly rooted in the tradition of jazz, a deeply American art form. Nevertheless, I imagine—having an Eastern European branch of my own family—that I can sometimes hear a Slavic melancholy resonating in his ballad playing. And I’ll go one step further: some of the high notes he plays with spontaneous expressiveness are reminiscent of the jubilant clarinet melodies at traditional Jewish celebrations that Stan experienced in his youth.

Stockholm Street comes from an album released as late as 1988, which Stan Getz recorded in 1958 at the Europe Film Studios in Sundbyberg. We have tried to immerse ourselves in the restrained cool jazz style of the Swedish colleagues involved at the time, led by Lars Gullin and Jan Johansson.

We chose the pieces É luxo só, Voyage, and I’ll Remember April because Stan apparently performed them often and enjoyed doing so. We interpret them in different Latin styles. For Chega de Saudade, we play Stan’s laid-back live version from Paris in 1971 in unison on tenor sax and vibraphone.

Bandleader Woody Herman recorded Early Autumn with his orchestra in 1947. Stan, who was 20 at the time, played a short solo part, which introduced him to a wide audience as a lyrical saxophonist. In his later years, Getz really enjoyed playing in a duo with pianist Kenny Barron. I tried to recreate that intimate lineup with the fabulous Chris Gall on piano.

In fact, it is in ballads that the fascinating magical artistry of the saxophone can unfold in the most emotional way.

With I Can’t Get Started and O Grande Amor, Stan captured this moment for eternity.

Not so with the piece Let’s Getz, however, as it was only just created—35 years after his death. The melody is based on a sequence of notes he often used.

Thank you, Stan. May the spirit of your music live on—Let’s Getz!