The second recording by Charlie Haden's Quartet West is similar to the music that the group (bassist Haden, tenor saxophonist Ernie Watts, pianist Alan Broadbent and drummer Larance Marable) would play for the next decade. Among the highlights of this well-rounded set (one of the band's most definitive releases) is "First Song" (Haden's most memorable composition), Miles Davis' "Blue In Green," and a lengthy exploration of Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman." An excellent showcase for Haden in a straight-ahead setting and for Watts, whose passionate sound perfectly fits the band.
- Scott Yanow (All Music Guide)
## 8,9 - additional track on CD only
========= from the cover ==========
I drove east on Sunset but I didn't go home. At La Brea I turned north and swung over to Highland, out over Cahuenga Pass and down on to Ventura Boulevard, past Studio City and Sherman Oaks and Encino. There was nothing lonely about the trip. There never is on that road. Fast boys in stripped-down Fords shot in and out of the traffic streams, missing fenders by a sixteenth of an inch, but somehow always missing them. Tired men in dusty coupes and sedans winced and tightened their grip on the wheel and ploughed on north and west towards home and dinner, an evening with the sports page, the blasting of the radio, the whining of their spoiled children and the gabble of their silly wives. I drove on past the gaudy neons and the false fronts behind them, the sleazy hamburger joints that look like palaces under the colors, the circular drive-ins as gay as circuses with the chipper hard-eyed carhops, the brilliant counters, and the sweaty greasy kitchens that would have poisoned a toad. Great double trucks rumbled down over Sepulveda from Wilmington and San Pedro and crossed towards the Ridge Route, starting up in low-low from the traffic lights with a growl of lions in the zoo.
Behind Encino an occasional light winked from the hills through thick trees. The homes of screen stars. Screen stars, phooey. The veterans of a thousand beds. Hold it, Marlowe, you're not human tonight.
The air got cooler. The highway narrowed.
The cars were so few now that the headlights hurt. The grade rose against chalk walls and at the top a breeze, unbroken from the ocean, danced casually across the night.
I drove on to the Oxnard cut-off and turned back along the ocean. The big eight-wheelers and sixteen-wheelers were streaming north, all hung over with orange lights. On the right the great fat solid Pacific trudging into shore like a scrubwoman going home. No moon, no fuss, hardly a sound of the surf. No smell. None of the harsh wild smell of the sea. A California ocean. California, the department-store state. The most of everything and the best of nothing. Here we go again. You're not human tonight, Marlowe.
Malibu. More movie stars. More pink and blue bathtubs. More tufted beds. More Chanel No. 5. More Lincoln Continentals and Cadillacs. More wind-blown hair and sunglasses and attitudes and pseudo-refined voices and waterfront morals. Now, wait a minute. Lots of nice people work in pictures. You've got the wrong attitude, Marlowe. You're not human tonight.
I smelled Los Angeles before I got to it. It smelled stale and old like a living room that had been dosed too long. But the colored lights fodled you. The lights were wonderful. There ought to be a monument to the man who invented neon lights. Fifteen stories high, solid marble. There's a boy who really made something out of nothing.
From The Little Sister by Raymond Chandler
Sunday At The Hillcrest is dedicated to all the great musicians (including Ornette Coleman) who used to play at the Sunday morning jam sessions that were held at the Club Hillcrest during the time I worked there in 1958-59.
First Song was composed for Ruth Cameron who inspired all of this and made it possible for me to begin to live again.
The Red Wind was composed by Pat Metheny especially for this recording. Raymond Chandler referred to the "Santa Ana Wind" as the "Red Wind" in his novels. The Santa Ana winds come in from the desert and blow all of the smog out to sea.
Blue In Green is dedicated to John Garfield.
Alpha is a song by Ornette that we used to play in the original quartet in 1958-59.
Live Your Dreams is by Ernie Watts who keeps me aware that "life is a beautiful thing."
Child's Play was written with the hope that all human beings can retain, for the rest of their lives, the childlike quality that is born inside them.
Fortune's Fame was composed by Vince Mendoza for this album and he tells me it is about the dream that all people have about fame.