Happy centennial to Earl “Bud” Powell, born on September 27, 1924. He was one of the greatest musicians of the twentieth century, full stop. That he is not universally recognized as such is the product of a few things, I think. One is society’s limited embrace of jazz music in general (such that most folks have little if any room in their consciousness for his more-heralded colleagues and fellow bebop pioneers Charlie “Bird” Parker and Dizzy Gillespie and his harder-to-classify peer Thelonious Monk, much less expanding that list). Another is the personal struggles (psychiatric ones in particular) that led to him leaving the U.S. and that made the latter years of his already-truncated career less consistent in terms of living up to the standards he set for himself.

Another reason in my estimation, though, is the paradoxical fact that to a degree perhaps rivaled only by Bird, his approach to bebop piano became so influential and so ubiquitous that by a certain point in the 1950s most of what you heard from jazz pianists was on a pretty significant level second-generation Bud. As such, when we go back and listen to him, as much as the brilliance of his work stands on its own terms, it’s useful to consciously remember just what an innovator he was in terms of approach to the instrument (in particular taking the “hornlike” single note soloing of Nat “King” Cole and Teddy Wilson into the stratosphere), not to mention his harmonic ingenuity and prolific, distinctive composing. When I try to evaluate the degree to which and the ways in which Bud has influenced my own conception as a pianist and as a musician more generally, it is correspondingly difficult to differentiate – I have had my share of developmentally foundational Bud-immersion, and that alone would make him a towering figure in my personal lexicon of musical influence, but I also can’t calculate how much of the time I’ve spent with Hampton Hawes and Barry Harris and Mal Waldron and early Horace Silver (and on and on) has also resulted in breathing secondhand Bud-smoke, if you will. 

In chronological order, here are a few of my own favorite moments from Bud’s indispensable discography, with attention to covering a wide scope of his career.    

1 ) “Jay Bird” released on Origins: the Savoy Sessions by J.J. Johnson (1946)

Though there are some illuminating Bud solos on 1944 recordings by Cootie Williams, 1946 was when he started appearing on full-blown bebop records, starting with an iconic Dexter Gordon session. Recorded a few months after that, the first bandleader session by bebop trombone titan J.J. Johnson features some fierce playing from Bud alongside a quintet of Cecil Payne, Leonard Gaskin, and Max Roach.

2 ) “Chasin the Bird” released on The Complete Savoy and Dial Master Takes by Charlie Parker (1947)

While the live recordings of Bud playing with Bird (alongside Fats Navarro and Art Blakey) are my favorite examples of their collaboration from the standpoint of fire, I’m picking this track (a virtual coin toss between it and “Donna Lee”) from their first studio session together due to historical significance (as well as sound quality and ease of availability). A young Miles Davis also solos, and Bud holds it down with Tommy Potter and Max Roach before getting in a tasty sixteen bars of his own.

3 ) “Tempus Fugit” from Jazz Giant (and various other compilations)(1949)

Bud burns. The title of this Bud tune is no joke, and while this is not the only example of him burning effortlessly at an extremely fast tempo, it’s my foremost go-to in that regard – to whatever extent it’s anything but stunning, that’s only because of how much others have assimilated and imitated his approach. Ray Brown and (once again) Max Roach hold it down with striking ease for such a challenging tempo while Bud takes full advantage of the showcase.

4 ) “Yesterdays” from Jazz Giant (and various other compilations)(1950)

The first of three solo piano tracks on the list, this one also features his lush approach to ballads. For someone who is so associated with dexterous right hand single-note lines and a simple left hand, it is illuminating (not to mention beautiful) to hear him demonstrating this other side of his musical persona, wearing his influence from earlier solo pianists (e.g. Art Tatum, Earl Hines, etc.) on his sleeve.

5 ) “The Fruit” from Genius of Bud Powell (and various other compilations)(1951)

Meanwhile, hearing him play solo piano on swinging tunes is equally if differently illuminating. The flow of his solo lines and the unobtrusive simplicity of his accompaniment (a major departure from the ornate “stride” left hand patterns of previous generations) meld perfectly while conveying his unflappable inner sense of time. Other highlights in this vein include “Hallucinations” and the original solo versions of “Oblivion” and “Parisian Thoroughfare.”

6 ) “Un Poco Loco” from The Amazing Bud Powell (and various other compilations)(1951)

This is one of the most endearing and historically significant examples of bebop and Latin music being melded, with this Powell original starting and ending with a ridiculously catchy melody over a cowbell-heavy groove, with iconic solos by Powell and Roach sandwiched in between.

7 ) “Bud on Bach” from The Amazing Bud Powell Vol. 3: Bud! (1957)

Speaking of melding, this solo piano track is fascinating. It begins with a faithful interpretation of the opening portion of the European classical piano piece “Solfeggietto” by C.P.E. Bach (son of J.S.), before Bud moves into a pithy original melody and a relaxed bebop solo. There are lots of apocryphal stories of Bud demonstrating skills that are less apparent to casual fans (e.g. “you don’t think I can also do such-and-such, do you?”) and this tune brings that into the open. And it’s delightful.

8 ) “John’s Abbey” from The Scene Changes (1958)

Bud’s Blue Note recordings in the mid-to-late 1950s (following his iconic early-decade quintet tracks with young Sonny Rollins, Fats Navarro, and Roy Haynes) tend to be overlooked as the edge is not quite as consistent and, more pertinently, by this point he was mostly “only” coming up with dozens great new tunes and performances in the style he’d already established rather than blazing new trails. That said, there are ample gems among these recordings, with this performance alongside Paul Chambers and Art Taylor being a personal favorite of mine.

9 ) “Off Minor” from A Portrait of Thelonious (1961)

Bud romps though this medium-tempo swinger featuring trio-mates bassist Pierre Michelot, and drummer, bebop pioneer, and fellow ex-pat Kenny Clarke, another important collaborator dating back to the 1940s. In addition to his flowing solo lines, we get a healthy dose of Bud’s lush chordal work here. Bud first recorded this tricky composition by his friend Thelonious Monk in 1949 – that one was an important early example of Monk’s work entering others’ repertoires, and this revisiting finds Bud in fine form.

10 ) “Stairway to the Stars” from Our Man in Paris by Dexter Gordon (1963)

Hearing Dexter and Bud reunited almost two decades after their first recordings together is delightful throughout this album (the trio feature on “Like Someone in Love” is particularly uplifting), and it is one of the last instances where we hear Bud sounding consistently strong. That said, this gorgeous ballad rendering showcases his patient lyricism alongside Dexter and the same rhythm section mates as on the prior track.