Adam Benjamin
Long Gone
Kind Of Blue Records

George Cables
You Don’t Know Me
Kind Of Blue Records
By George W. Harris

Solo piano is the ultimate tightrope walk-it’s just you and the song. There’s nowhere to hide. Rookie pianist Adam Benjamin and venerable veteran George Cables have both put out their hearts on a sleeve, with intriguing results.

Pretty audacious to make your debut release a solo piece, but Benjamin pulls it off pretty well. He’s got a left hand that likes to find some intriguing wide reaching chords, and isn’t afraid to hit the keys with a vengeance. He takes chances on “Willow Weep For Me”, giving it an assertive jaunt, and hides Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” under a camouflage of chordal rabbit trails. He’s got quite an ecumenical selection of material, ranging from Tears For Fears’ “Head Over Heals” to the lovely Beach Boy ballad “Don’t Talk”. A pair of Coleman tunes get some exploration, with the rocking baseline of “Broadway Blues” reverberating in your marrow. A confident debut by a guy who shows a lot of promise.

Meanwhile, Cables, who has played with just about everybody worth playing with, has absolutely nothing to prove. Yet, here comes this 2cd set, recorded just a few months before undergoing a double kidney transplant, after being supported by a dialysis machine for a number of years. That history is only to serve as a possible explanation for the deeply elegiac and reflective tone of this sensitive masterwork. Cables’ touch hearkens back to the style of Earl Hines; not too chordal, not full of meaningless single note runs, but filled with ten fingered explorations of the melody and implications. He goes through a collection of originals, jazz standards and church spirituals that evoke enriched images of sounds and emotions. “Go Down Moses” and “Going Home” have that bona fide “Sunday Morning” meditative/declarative feel that is the backbone of the rural church. “The Way We Were” embodies the song in every way that Barbara Streisand doesn’t. Need I say more? The highlight of this release, however, consists of his collection of originals that range from gorgeous ballads (“Lullaby”) to exotic mood pieces “Senorita de Aranjuez”. No matter the tune, Cables approaches the songs like a potter to a spinning wheel, caressing and embarrassing the body until an attractive and shapely structure has been formed. Don’t let this one get by you.