On ‘Black, Brown, and Blue,’ Eric Reed Plays for Every Color

This is the pianist’s most personal statement yet. Ultimately, it’s about a message of common humanity and hope for all God’s children.

Keith Wilson
Eric Reed's new release had almost nothing in common with his recent opening set at Smoke, except that both were excellent in their own way. Keith Wilson

Eric Reed
‘Black, Brown, and Blue’ (Smoke Sessions) 

Usually, when an artist celebrates a new album with a “launch” performance, we expect there to be a correlation, at least, between the show and the record. Pianist Eric Reed’s new release, “Black, Brown, and Blue,” had almost nothing in common with his recent opening set at Smoke — except that both were excellent in their own way. 

The set was the sort that Smoke is known for, a rather aggressive, muscular hard bop with an all-star New York-centric quartet featuring tenor saxophonist Chris Lewis, bassist Dezron Douglas, and drummer Kendrick Scott. The new album, conversely, is almost all slower and more contemplative pieces, played by a trio with bassist Luca Alemanno and drummer Reggie Quinerly and taped in Los Angeles.

Another thing they have in common is Mr. Reed’s ambition to celebrate Black composers. That’s the way he put it both in his spoken introduction at Smoke and on the notes to “Black, Brown, and Blue.”  All the music in both projects is entirely the work of African-American writers; however, it also is true that nearly everything here is written by jazz musicians — there are no vintage pop standards or show tunes. 

When I say the music at Smoke sounded like quintessential hard bop, I mean that very literally. The combination of the players and the remarkable sonics of the room make you feel like you just time-traveled into a Blue Note recording session circa 1960, with Horace Silver or Bobby Timmons at the piano and Wayne Shorter or Joe Henderson on tenor.  

The set was framed by “Yes or No” and “Twelve More Bars to Go,” Shorter compositions from the classic 1964 album “Juju.” In between, they essayed “ICHN,” a Reed original dedicated to Herbie Nichols, and Thelonious Monk’s eponymous “Thelonious.” On the latter, Mr. Reed and company stayed true to the spirit of Monk by sticking mainly to the melody but playing with the tempo, stylizing the tune by playing it faster and faster.

On the album, Mr. Reed begins with the only original, the title number, “Black, Brown, and Blue,” played as a relatively jaunty, unaccompanied keyboard piece. The mood slows down considerably, and the piano is highly predominant the rest of the way; at times Messrs. Alemanno and Quinerly offer support that’s so subtle and restrained you’re barely aware they’re even present. They also contribute an original each, Mr. Reggie Quinerly’s thoughtful ballad “Variation Twenty-Four” and Mr. Alemanno’s insightful “One for E.”

While all the songs are by Black and jazz composers, they’re divided between traditional romantic numbers, Duke Ellington’s “I Got it Bad” being the major love song, and somewhat spiritually driven melodies, along the lines of Horace Silver’s “Peace” and McCoy Tyner’s “Search for Peace.”   

There are two stunning interpretations of Black singer-songwriters of the 1970s, each with worthwhile guest vocalists: Calvin B. Rhone on Bill Withers’s “Lean On Me” and David Daughtry on Stevie Wonder’s “Pastime Paradise.” In both cases, Mr. Reed supplies the foundation for the singers to transmute pop songs into something more like gospel hymns. 

Shorter and Monk are also represented on the album, but on different songs: “Infant Eyes,” another widely popular 1964 work, is in the same vein as John Coltrane’s “Naimi,” a highly tranquil, meditative tune that seems both romantic and spiritual at the same time. Monk’s famous waltz “Ugly Beauty” ends the album in a way that stresses the beauty rather than the ugly. 

The only tune that the live set and the album had in common was Benny Golson’s “Along Came Betty,” and, fittingly, it seemed more militant at Smoke and more liltingly lyrical — not to mention lovely — on the album. Mr. Reed has always been an intensely soulful player, and that aspect of his music has been increasing and improving in his recent series of albums for Smoke Sessions (following “Everybody Gets the Blues” and “For Such a Time as This,” from 2019 and 2020).

This is Mr. Reed’s most personal statement yet. Although we’ve been talking about musical creators classified by both race and genre, it’s ultimately really about none of those things — it’s about a message of common humanity and hope for all God’s children, whether we happen to be Black, Brown, or even Blue.


The New York Sun

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