The Bobby Spellman Nonet: Revenge Of The Cool
Sunnyside Records

Even without knowing anything about trumpeter Bobby Spellman's album, only a moment or two of its opening track would need to be heard for its core idea to crystallize. When those warm, lustrous horns emerge seconds into “Ghosts of Gainsborough Street,” the recording's connection to Miles Davis's iconic Birth of The Cool album and tunes such as “Boplicity” and “Jeru” is immediately apparent. Seventy years have passed since the 1949-50 sessions for the album (issued in 1957) and more than fifty since Spellman's initial exposure. When his infatuation with its music stayed with him, he studied its scores to identify what made the material so potent and determined that, aside from the album's deft melding of jam and classical elements, a key factor had to with the textures and colours generated by Davis's nonet.

That prompted the Boston-born trumpeter to begin writing for a similarly styled ensemble and explore the harmonic possibilities such a mid-sized outfit would offer. For his nonet, Spellman recruited baritone saxophonist Tyler Burchfield, trombonist Tim Shneier, tubist Ben Stapp, French hornists Kyra Sims and Justin Mullens (on separate tracks), alto saxophonists Emily Pecoraro and David Leon (ditto), pianists Ben Schwendener and Eli Wallace (ditto again), bassist Andrew Schiller, and drummer Evan Hyde. Spellman managed to secure a bi-weekly gig at a Brooklyn restaurant for the group, which helped it develop the rapport so convincingly captured when the album was recorded over two days in May 2019 at a Brooklyn studio.

On the inner sleeve, Spellman describes the album as embodying “a new spirit possessing an old form,” a succinct way of clarifying that Revenge of The Cool is no tired, by-the-numbers copy but rather a fresh re-imagining of a classic style. Certainly there are differences between the albums. Whereas Miles's pieces are in the three-minute range, some of Spellman's stretch out to nine and ten minutes. More importantly, while his pieces preserve the forward-thinking spirit of the original project, he brings a contemporary edge to his own in weaving episodes of free improv into the recording.

“Ghosts of Gainsborough Street” seduces from the drop, its slow, sultry swing a perfect ground for the group's registers-spanning horns. A smooth solo by Schwendener gets things underway, but it's not long before the leader steps forth with a piquant statement of his own. With the second piece, “The Isles of Langerhans,” Revenge of The Cool puts distance between itself and Miles's release in the track's ten-minute running time and the range of its slow-building explorations (interestingly, the title suggests some little-known geographical setting but actually refers to clusters of cells within the pancreas). Though Spellman drew on Charles Ives as a guide for its development, “At The Brink” draws the album closer to the 1957 original, not only in the tune's muscular swing but in an alto turn by Leon that calls to mind Lee Konitz on the original.

Meanwhile, “Uncle Chip” digs lustily into free-bop mode with explosive ensemble playing and bold piano splashes from Wallace yet also re-connects to Birth of The Cool in its resplendent horn harmonies. Donning a mute for “Boundless Love,” a heartfelt ballad tribute to his wife, the leader's sound understandably reveals a noticeable Miles influence. Keeping it in the family, “Genesis” was written for Spellman's mother, its infectious 12/8 rhythm intended as a reflection of her affection for Afro-Cuban music.

While there's little need to quibble over semantics, Return of the Cool might have been a better title choice when the one used suggests some kind of vindication was in order. On the contrary, Davis's original recording has never lost its revered status and is thus in no need of ‘revenge.' Regardless, listeners are the greatest beneficiaries of Spellman's bewitchment, seeing as how it led to the birth of this fine homage.

September 2020