The Music

Togetherness
The word holds a magic that encompasses friendship. love. cooperation, family. When Maggi Scott gets together with Wayne Naus and Greg Hopkins, the magic turns to some very special music. Boston’s first lady of song joins forces here with the trumpeters who co-lead the most exciting big band in the area since Herb Pomeroy’s. Just a tune or two will tell you that this match was made in heaven. Great pairings come to mind: the elegant grace of Astaire & Rogers: the zing of salt & tomatoes; the lyric flair of Rodgers & Hart: the comfort of bed & breakfast: the excitement of Diz & Bird The togetherness of Maggi & Wayne & Greg has twin roots in Maggi’s jazz evenings up at Scotch & Sirloin, where Greg. Bill Pierce and Gene DiStasio were her preferred horn players, and in the Buddy Rich Big Band, which seasoned, then liberated. Wayne in 1973 and Greg in 1974. By the time Greg arrived in Boston. Wayne had already established his own big band: he was understandably pleased to have Gregjoin as player extraordinaire and writer of striking arrangements (you get a good idea of his early genius on Rich’s Stick It and Roar of ’74).

Their shared love of good tunes well sung with a challenging orchestral backdrop made its surprising debut at Berklee Performance Center in February 1981, kept topping itself with summertime concerts on Government Center Plaza thereafter, and culminates in this alburn of tunes old
& new, earty & late in their musical friendship You hear Maggi-smoky. steady, alert and alive — sing nine songs of great beauty and spirt that speak to you of togetherness and separation, you catch the sparkling, darting charts of Greg lift and nuzzle her lines: you ride Wayne’s clear, bright lead trumpet, and the equally inspired section work (not to mention solos) of the sixteen guys in the band who make this meeting possible
Greg reminds me, “How mature and sensitive this group of seasoned players is “To work with them is a leader’s dream.” The collective “dues” of this group includes: Joe Hunt with Bill Evans and George Russell Mick Goodrick on his own ECM album. John Lockwood with Joe Henderson and Gary Burton. Jimmy Mosher and Paul Fontaine with Woody Herman. Mosher. Jeff Stout. Joe Calo, Tony Lada, Wayne and myself with Buddy Rich. And Bill Pierce with Art Blakey”. There are so many beautiful moments, one can’t really mention them all. The lovely, expansive title tune, with its loping vamp. leads (brass against brass) to the somber and touching Yesterday! Heard The Rain: you sense Maggi’s loneliness amidst the grey crowd (trombones), yet a familiar face (Mosher’s alto) flickers, beckons like a friendly beacon. Maggi makes an uncharacteristically saucy angler on the Lee/Ellington collaboration. while Jeff Stout plays the indomitable trout, and Greg sends the ensemble ‘deep sea fishing’ Each track sets a new mood, tells a fresh story Then there’s Butch Elin’s soulful glance at Funny Valentine, the wicked trumpet line on Ben’s Brazilian classic (Maggi sings Portuguese, Mick Goodrick’s hot stalactites on Midnight Sun and pearly drops on Rainy Day, the zest of the rhythm team, the roar of the band.

And. finally, the mutual admiration and affection the principal musicians express for each other: Maggi on Wayne and Greg. “Wayne’s a shy sweet-heart, but so strong when he plays! Greg’s creativity and imagination gives new flavor to old tunes. And they’re both so easy to work with, we come to cooperative agreement on everything. I love them both and respect and admire their talent, musicianship and professionalism”. Wayne on Greg and Maggi, “It’s sheer luck that Greg’s in this area, or we’d be playing stocks. Maggi was wise to see this and give herself a wonderful backdrop. I feel honored to be a part of this unusual musical happening” Greg on Maggi and Wayne, “Togetherness is a wonderful feeling when it involves Wayne, Maggi and this very special group of players. It is our pleasure to be together for you.” And now, why don’t you just relax and join this talented threesome for an hour of musical togetherness? – FRED BOUCHARD