Mal Waldron’s Music Minus One Trombone Or Bass Violin – A Jazz Journey You Didn’t Know You Needed
Let’s be real here: 1976 wasn’t exactly a banner year for jazz albums that screamed “Hey, remember me forever!” But Mal Waldron’s Music Minus One Trombone Or Bass Violin sneaks up on you like an old friend who shows up unannounced with a six-pack and some wild stories. This record, released under the Music Minus One label in the U.S., feels less like your typical polished studio project and more like a late-night jam session where everyone just clicked.
First off, let’s talk about the lineup because it’s stacked. George Duvivier holds down the acoustic bass like he owns it, Ed Shaughnessy keeps time on drums without breaking a sweat, and Teddy Charles adds vibraphone vibes (pun intended) to Side A while Al Schackman strums his guitar into existence on Side B. Oh, and did I mention this whole thing was arranged and conceptualized by Mal Waldron himself? The dude even wrote the liner notes—clearly, he had something to say.
Now, onto the tracks. With 14 songs total, there’s no shortage of ear candy, but two stuck out to me like neon signs in a foggy cityscape: “Try A Little Tenderness” and “Over the Rainbow.”
“Try A Little Tenderness” hits different here. It’s not the soulful Otis Redding version most folks are used to; instead, Waldron strips it down to its bare bones, letting Teddy Charles’ vibraphone shimmer over Ed Shaughnessy’s steady drumbeat. By the time the melody kicks in, you’re not just listening—you’re feeling every note. There’s a rawness to it, like they didn’t care if it sounded perfect as long as it felt right. And honestly? That makes it unforgettable.
Then there’s “Over the Rainbow,” which gets revisited twice on this album because why not? Listening to both versions back-to-back is kinda like watching someone paint the same picture twice but with slightly different strokes each time. The first take leans heavy on nostalgia, all soft vibes and dreamy undertones. But the second one? Whoa. Something shifts—it’s darker, moodier, almost like Waldron decided to flip the script halfway through. If Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz heard this version, she’d probably rethink her whole “there’s no place like home” spiel.
What really ties this album together is how loose it feels. Like, you can almost hear the musicians laughing between takes or nudging each other mid-song when someone nails a solo. It’s jazz at its most human—a reminder that sometimes imperfections make things beautiful.
Here’s the kicker though: after spinning this record a few times, I realized it’s less about trombones or bass violins and more about space. Not outer space, mind you, but musical space—the kind where instruments breathe and ideas float around until they land somewhere unexpected. Maybe that’s what Waldron meant by “Music Minus One.” Or maybe he just liked messing with people’s heads.
Either way, Music Minus One Trombone Or Bass Violin isn’t gonna win any Grammy Awards (especially since it came out before those were even a big deal). But it doesn’t need to. What it does do is remind us that great music doesn’t have to shout to be heard. Sometimes, it whispers—and leaves you wanting more.
