Prescribing Jazz: A Top Ten

National Doctors' Day is celebrated unevenly across our mistreated planet. It is absent in most countries, while it is observed as a holiday in a few. Coinciding (in the United States and Australia) with this day of recognition for a vital profession, this article is especially directed to the entire jazz-loving medical community, focusing on six compositions related to this sector. The first four pieces will be balanced between two different renditions, while also attempting to maintain some stylistic chronology; conversely, the last two themes, which have few alternatives, are presented only in their original form.

St. James Infirmary

Louis Armstrong
The Complete Hot Five And Hot Seven Recordings
"St. James Infirmary (Gambler's Blues)"
Columbia Records
2000

The origins of this well-known song are confusing, with ancestral roots in the British folk songbook of the eighteenth century. Despite numerous investigations and theories, it has not been possible to identify which institution the surprising, egocentric lyrics reference. Although it is sometimes linked to various London hospitals—some categorized as "lock hospitals," which emerged in eighteenth-century England and specialized in the confinement of lepers and the treatment of venereal diseases—its connection to other songs about unfortunate characters lying inert in a hospital room is significant. Regardless of its musical origins and the primitive ties of its lyrics, it is undeniable that Louis Armstrong popularized "St. James Infirmary" with his version recorded on December 12, 1928. Concerning its composition, it was initially attributed to Don Redman and later associated with Irving Mills—who used the pseudonym Joe Primrose.

The piece opens with distinctly funereal measures, but this atmosphere quickly livens up. Classified as a Foxtrot in the original Okeh label edition, the theme transforms through a rhythmic change, driven by the dynamic interplay between Armstrong's trumpet exposition and Redman's jubilant clarinet. Accompanied by two brief yet elegant interludes from Earl Hines' piano, Armstrong showcases his transcendent vocal artistry, clearly still in development. His signature trumpet reappears in a later arranged passage (not in vain is Redman there, laying the foundations for the art of jazz arranging and orchestration) and serves as a bridge to a delightful orchestrated segment. There, the genius of New Orleans incites Redman and concludes the track once again in a burial mode, finished off by a subtle final cymbal touch from Zutty Singleton. Comparing this cut with his later rendition featured on Satchmo Plays King Oliver (Audio Fidelity, 1960) is fascinating: at the outset, melodic and harmonic connections between this tune and George Gershwin's "Summertime" (composed six years after Armstrong's initial reading) are confirmed, and then his influential vocal phrasing appears, already fully developed.



Earl Hines
"Fatha"
"St. James Infirmary Blues"
Columbia Records
1965

The aforementioned Hines gives us reason to continue weaving interesting correlations. It is absorbing to examine the stylistic evolution of this often-overlooked master from Duquesne, Pennsylvania. He was acclaimed by other eminent musicians as the authentic father of modern jazz piano, thanks to his innovations, particularly his revolutionary left-hand techniques and innovative use of arpeggios and silences. Hines demonstrates his wisdom and technical control in this new rendition of the theme, which surprises the listener right from the start with the modernity of his touch. The tempo and mood remain consistent with the spirit of the composition, varnished here with timeless tones under which Hines also assumes the vocal part of the track, leading to captivating results that connect us to later interpreters like Andy Bey. This seductive sung part is practically (self)interrupted by the spectacular pianistic riff that initiates his splendid solo, which concludes with suggestive, and probably feedback-induced, resonances à la Bud Powell.

Relaxin' At Camarillo

Charlie Parker
Charlie Parker On Dial Volume 3
"Relaxin' At Camarillo"
Stateside
1970

Despite its title implying a soothing downtempo, "Relaxin' At Camarillo" is an intentional celebration—albeit not entirely successful—of the apparent improvement in Charlie Parker's health and addictions following a six-month stay at the Camarillo State Hospital, where he was judicially confined on July 29, 1946. As widely known, immediately after completing the session where he recorded his famous and controversial "Lover Man" (with assistance from a psychiatrist in the studio), Parker set fire to his hotel room and ran naked through the lobby, culminating in his arrest and subsequent placement in the California mental sanatorium. However, when listening to the four takes of the piece in the Dial integral recording made seven months after those tumultuous events, a slight disappointment may creep in: the musical discourse of the Kansas alto saxophonist—quite brief in all instances—lacks the blinding brilliance that he radiated, with seeming effortless ease, just months before his hospitalization. It suggests that the relative physical and mental relief had not yet translated into a genuine musical recovery, which would need a few more months to reach the level that has made this period of his work transcendental.

Nevertheless, this adhesive blues, with its simple yet ingenious introductory and concluding riff by Dodo Marmarosa, has ultimately become one of the anthems of bebop and, by extension, a jazz standard that continues to be enthusiastically performed. Hundreds of recorded versions attest to this, ranging from vocal interpretations, such as that of the nonagenarian and happily active Sheila Jordan in Portrait Now (Dot Time Records, 2025), to acid jazz remixes, like MeShell NdegeOcello's in Bird Up - The Charlie Parker Remix Project (Savoy Jazz, 2003). However, performances by guitarists and pianists are the most prevalent. Powell stands out among the latter, boasting at least half a dozen versions, some quite notable, such as the one in Bud Plays Bird (Roulette Jazz, 1996). The reference to the quintessential bebop pianist is quite intentional since Powell, in 1966, would sign with his "Blues For Bouffémont" a piece somehow twinned with Parker's; it is dedicated to a sanatorium located in the Bouffémont commune near Paris, where he was treated for tuberculosis. The French pianist Henri Renaud recorded a somewhat bizarre interview there with the tormented Harlemite, now available on the usual platforms.



Laurent De Wilde
Spoon-A-Rhythm
"Relaxin' At Camarillo"
Columbia Records
1997

Focusing on pianistic renditions, French-American Laurent de Wilde's interpretation develops a complex execution, including changes in metrics, stops and runs, and other rhythmic resources that make it as restless as it is positively addictive. After starting with his unmistakably distinctive airs, De Wilde adheres to strict bopper principles—Powell's in particular—but displays interesting harmonic and rhythmic variations along his frenetic path that enrich the original theme. Accompanied by Ira Coleman's double bass and Dion Parson's effective drumming, with whom he maintains millisecond-accurate dialogues, the pianist presents a view that, while respecting the original architecture of the piece, discovers unexpected musical passages within it.

Blood Count

Duke Ellington And His Orchestra
Big Bands Live
"Freakish Lights"
JazzHausMusik
2012

"Blood Count" is not a work that lends itself to lighthearted treatments. On the other hand, probably no one has considered doing a free version or subjecting it to a hyper-accelerated tempo, given its origin from the most dramatic of situations: the awareness of imminent personal finitude, its associated devastating anguish and the pain, the immense pain, physical and emotional, implacable and lacerating. Billy Strayhorn, recognized by many as Duke Ellington's alter ego, developed this theme (his final one) in March 1967 while lying in a hospital bed due to esophageal cancer. Though physically separated from his band, he had not disassociated himself from it: he continued composing, and some sources state that he sent the score via messenger from the hospital to Carnegie Hall, where the orchestra was performing. This supposed first performance at the prestigious New York venue, dated March 26, 1967, would not be published until eight years later when it was included in the live compilation The Greatest Jazz Concert In The World (Pablo Records, 1975), where it appears as "Blood Count (Manuscript)."

The reality, however, is that the orchestra had already performed it several times during a European tour conducted between late February and early March of that same year, under the alternative title of "Freakish Light" (or "Lights"). The piece is based on a previous idea titled "Blue Cloud," which was part of a small three-part suite that Strayhorn wrote for the orchestra and that would later change its title in explicit reference to the blood tests performed on cancer patients to determine their progression. After Strayhorn's death in May of that same year, Ellington included it in a second concert in Los Angeles on June 23 and finally, in " ...And His Mother Called Him Bill" (RCA Victor / Legacy, 1968). This was not just his first studio recording after Strayhorn's passing, but an emotional tribute from a desolate colleague and a deeply disoriented personal friend.

The theme is always structured in three established phases: the first introduces the gravitas inherent to the moment and personal circumstance; a central part features two plaintive explosions, the first almost solitary (around minute 1) and the second more supported by the orchestra (around minute 2); and a final section where a faint glow seems to emerge, signifying the acceptance of transition to a new state and the calm that floods these final moments. The version selected here can be found in different reissues from the original album published in 1988 by Jazz Band Records. It captures a performance on March 6, 1967, in the German city of Stuttgart, with the composer still alive. The dramatic tension is primarily conveyed through Johnny Hodges' alto sax, which embodies the thoughts and emotions of a Strayhorn already cornered by the infamous disease. His eloquent speech exhibits an almost cutting immediacy—fostered by an impressive recording that seemingly places us among the musicians—imbued with swing classicism, yet wisely stripped of the degree of affectation present in other takes. Meanwhile, the resounding softness of the ducal entourage skillfully accompanies him to a concluding vamp where everything dissolves with a sense of assumed serenity.



The Stan Getz Quartet
Pure Getz
"Blood Count"
Concord Music Group
1982

Stan Getz delivered a splendid performance of Strayhorn's composition with his quartet from the early '80s, where bare emotion and expressive power intertwine. It is difficult not to swallow hard during the exposition of the central laments (1'16''), one of those rare instances where the Philadelphian seems to let go of his eternal formal restraint to express, without detours, the sensation of defenseless solitude and the intense, exasperated rage that seeps from the theme. Jim McNeely's always intelligent piano remains in a discreet but effective supporting role, Marc Johnson accentuates the drama with effective pedal points and Getz presents himself as both tender and devastating, in a combination as fascinating as it is lethal.

U.M.M.G. (Upper Manhattan Medical Group)

Art Farmer
Warm Valley
"Upper Manhattan Medical Group"
Concord Jazz
1983

Also stemming from Strayhorn's masterful pen, "U.M.M.G." concludes this facultative quartet of double visions. Written thirteen years before "Blood Count," it is dedicated to Dr. Arthur Logan, head of the hospital group mentioned in its title and Ellington's physician. The Ohio native maintained an almost familial bond with Ellington and eventually sought the doctor's services, frequently consulting with Ellington—a notable hypochondriac. Their relationship transcended the typical patient-doctor dynamic, leading Strayhorn to socialize with the Harlemite Dr. Logan and his wife, former singer Marian Bruce, absorbing their political ideas and joining them in a support network for also doctor—in theology—Martin Luther King, who would be assassinated a few months after Strayhorn's death.

Unlike the previous composition, "U.M.M.G." lends itself to festive acceleration, showcasing a complex and well-crafted melody that continuously shifts from major to minor, making it ideal for mid-tempo or faster approaches. The magnificent trumpeter and flugelhorn player Art Farmer offers an elegant—how could it be otherwise—, rounded version in an album that belongs to arguably his most fruitful decade, the '80s. The Iowan distills his usual formal restraint with discreet yet vigorous parsimony, offering another master class in essentiality and melodic inventiveness with his velvety flugelhorn. Fred Hersch's piano, still in the early stages of his career as a sideman, adds subtle harmonic changes and an interesting air in which his stylistic touch is already evident. Once again, it is fascinating to compare this with the rendition Farmer would present of the same theme a few years later in his marvelous Something To Live For - The Music Of Billy Strayhorn (Contemporary Records, 1987). This latter is clearly inspired by the former and features the exceptional James Williams, who contributes with his gospel-like inflammation a spirited parliament, sporadically referencing certain moments from Hersch's earlier solo.



Budapest Jazz Orchestra
Everything's Alright
"Upper Manhattan Medical Group"
BJO Records
2007

With a quarter of a century behind them and around twenty albums, the Budapest Jazz Orchestra is part of a contingent of contemporary European big bands whose lack of global recognition is only matched by their undeniable musical quality. While their soloists might not be international stars and their performances remain predominantly local, they function as a masterfully oiled machine. They swing with overflowing enthusiasm, exhibit phenomenal orchestrations and smart arrangements, and present a unique perspective on modern big-band jazz. For proof, listen to their powerful Human Circle - The Wayfarer (Budapest Music Center (BMC), 2003), which features Dave Liebman's extraordinary collaboration.

Their expansive interpretation of "Upper Manhattan Medical Group" captures attention from the reharmonized opening measures of the saxophone section and quickly demonstrates the fraternal bonds of musical unity with other similar ensembles from old Europe, such as the Scandinavian Tolvan Big Band or UMO Jazz Orchestra. Their vibrant blend of reeds and brass produces a lush sonic foliage that repositions and magnifies the sensational melody, while the individual passages are skillfully intertwined with the sensually rich orchestral textures. Successfully propelled by its rhythmic section, the band evolves with humble mastery to end up transforming the atmosphere into a brief yet unexpected moment of exploratory speculation.



Richard "Groove" Holmes
After Hours
"Minor Surgery"
Pacific Jazz
1962

This clinical selection concludes with two pieces presented solely in their original versions. They do so merely due to the medical associations of their titles, without having been able to verify whether, as in the previous selections, there was a health-related motivation behind their creation. The first, penned by Richard "Groove" Holmes could be seen—as its title suggests—as a minor theme. However, it stands as an excellent and dignified representation of the soul-jazz era so significant in the '60s, embodied here in its favored format: a trio consisting of organ, electric guitar and drums. Holmes delivers a composition that initially oozes deceptive avant-garde fragrances, only to then plunge resolutely into the waters of the genre. A brief intervention by an unrecognizable Joe Pass leads into the sophisticated, feline solo discourse of the New Jersey native, with a touch and sound that, in comparison to some of his more celebrated contemporaries, could be described as degreased. Beneath it all, his admirable pedal playing meshes perfectly with the effective drumming of the ubiquitous Larance Marable.



Mehldau & Rossy Trio
When I Fall In Love
"Convalescent"
Fresh Sound Records
1994

In his 2023 book Brad Mehldau: Formation: Building A Personal Canon, Part One Brad Mehldau recounts his years of personal and creative growth. The Jacksonville native experienced a significant chapter of his transformative journey in the '90s Barcelona, where he became a pivotal figure in that remarkable jazz connection known as the New York-Barcelona Crossing. Another essential aspect of this was Fresh Sound New Talent, a sublabel owned by Fresh Sound Records and likewise founded by the visionary Catalan producer Jordi Pujol, which became a platform for young talents—who are now established stars under legendary companies—to take their first recording steps, as evidenced by Ambrose Akinmusire, Robert Glasper and Kurt Rosenwinkel, to name just a few. When I Fall In Love was the seventh record of this sublabel and Mehldau's first in a trio (then called Mehldau & Rossy Trio), completed by Mario Rossy on double bass and Jorge Rossy on drums. One of the highlights of this captivating disc is the chosen track, which evokes in the listener that sense of soft prostration where emotional sadness and physical pain slowly walk the path toward recovery. After a lengthy, restful exposition of a theme that exudes undeniable vibes reminiscent of Ornette Coleman, Mehldau takes the floor, initially focusing on the lower register, with quick, interrupted progressions of magnetic attraction that gradually ascend in tonality. Mario Rossy reveals his Charlie Haden influences, while his brother Jorge foreshadows why he would become the drummer for the five volumes of The Art of the Trio series and other iconic albums solely in the pianist's name. As Mehldau explains in the afore-mentioned book, compositions during that time did not always come easily, due to various disruptive factors. Nonetheless, pieces so distinctive and restorative as this one, which ends our medical check-up, were beginning to establish his stunning creative path.

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