Thelma Gracen & Milli Vernon – The Best Voices That Time Forgot (Fresh Sound)
Tirelessly active in the increasingly thankless realm of classic jazz reissue stewardship, producer Jordi Pujol is deserving of both copious thanks for his efforts and no small amount of consternation at how he keeps at it. The Best Voices That Time Forgot embodies the latest in a long line of series proffered under his Fresh Sound banner. The mission is to mine the work of abandoned jazz singers of yore, aspiring talents who for whatever reasons failed to reach the professional heights of peers from their own era. The format is that of the two-fer, pairing vintage albums by singers who may or may not be stylistically similar. In the case of Thelma Gracen and Milli Vernon, names who fit the mantle of the forgotten without argument, the common ground is that of a combination of tiny label contracts and songbooks of standards.
Separated by coasts and the span of several months between 1955-1956 both women benefit from crackerjack backing bands on their respective sessions. Gracen, whose proclivities also included outright pop songs, negotiates a program also populated by a handful of jazz standards. Swing veteran tenorist Georgie Auld fronts the Los Angeles-based sextet in her service alongside guitarist Barney Kessel and pianist Lou Levy. The twelve tunes are all jukebox-sized with only two surpassing four minutes, which leaves the bulk of space to Gracen’s graceful and ingratiating interpretation of song verse starting with a suitably sultry take on “I’ll Remember April.” Limited in range, there remains lilting intonation to her confident phrasing that complements Auld’s assured, vibrato-laced support. Kessel and Levy’s gilded chords work well in tandem and apart and drummer Sid Bulkin (now as forgotten as Gracen) keeps supple swishing beat with brushes.
Vernon is a shade more openly emotive in contrast to the cooler shadings of her counterpart. Pianist Dave McKenna and guitarist Jimmy Raney join the indisputable ace on the roster that is Jo Jones, a swing drumming pioneer who brings his customary panache to the date despite receiving no sonic favors from the Manhattan studio engineer. Trumpeter Ruby Braff joins the action on most tunes and journeyman bassist Wyatt Rhuter who shared Bulkin’s anonymity even in the 20th century completes the combo. “Spring is Here” teams Vernon with Raney’s spare chords to winsome effect before Jones leads the delayed entry of the rest of the crew and the singer playfully tests her range with a couple of belted verses. “St. James Infirmary” proves her mettle on more antiquated if authentic fare, benefiting greatly from the bucolic Braff’s muted interjections and Raney’s clip-clop fret effects. Gracen and Vernon are gone, but thanks to Pujol, no longer forgotten.
