Live In Nice 1978: Bill Evans Trio & Guests – A Raw, Unfiltered Jazz Masterpiece That Punches You in the Gut
Let’s cut to the chase—this ain’t your polished studio jazz album. Live In Nice 1978 by the Bill Evans Trio & Guests is raw, unapologetic, and dripping with soul. Released in 2010 on the European label Jazz Lips, this post-bop gem captures a night where legends collided. With Lee Konitz on alto sax, Stan Getz blowing tenor like it’s his last day on Earth, and Philly Joe Jones laying down drum grooves that feel like they’re coming straight from the gods, this record doesn’t just play—it breathes.
The first track that’ll knock you sideways? “Nardis.” Yeah, yeah, everyone talks about “Nardis,” but damn if this version doesn’t rip your heart out. Marc Johnson’s bass lines are so deep they feel like they’re pulling you into another dimension. And then there’s Bill Evans himself, tickling those keys like he’s channeling some higher power. It’s messy at times, sure—hell, even incomplete—but that’s what makes it real. This isn’t perfection; it’s humanity wrapped up in six minutes of pure fire.
Then there’s “Theme From M.A.S.H. (Suicide Is Painless).” You think you’ve heard this tune before? Nope. Not like this. Curtis Fuller’s trombone slides in smooth as butter, while Christian Escoude’s guitar adds this weirdly haunting edge that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. The whole thing feels like walking through smoke—one second you’re grounded, the next you’re floating somewhere else entirely. By the time Stan Getz comes in, you’re done for. Forget everything else happening around you; this track owns you.
Now, let’s talk guests for a sec because holy crap, right? Lee Konitz doesn’t just show up—he dominates. Same goes for Philly Joe Jones, whose drumming could wake the dead. Even the design by Jettoki DB and photos by Guy Le Querrec scream authenticity. No fluff here, just grit and sweat.
But here’s the kicker—the interview snippet with Leonard Feather tucked between tracks hits harder than it should. Hearing Bill Evans break down his thoughts mid-album feels intrusive yet intimate, like catching him off guard. It reminds you these weren’t just musicians—they were people trying to figure stuff out, same as us.
So yeah, Live In Nice 1978 might not be perfect, but maybe that’s why it sticks. Listening to it feels less like hearing music and more like eavesdropping on history. And honestly? If this doesn’t make you wanna grab a cigarette and stare into the middle distance thinking about life, nothing will.
