Monk's Quartet Stretching Out Freely
Thelonious Monk leads a loose, lively quartet through his angular compositions with unmistakable wit.
Put on It’s Monk’s Time (1964) and the first thing you hear is a piano that sounds like it is thinking out loud, stopping and starting, leaning into dissonant clusters and then letting them resolve with a grin. The quartet behind him, Charlie Rouse on tenor, Butch Warren on bass, and Ben Riley on drums, keeps things swinging at a comfortable, mid-tempo pace. It is not a stripped-down record. The rhythm section is busy, the horn lines are tight, and the whole thing has a bounce that makes it easy to listen to from start to finish.
Monk's writing is the main attraction here. His tunes are lopsided and full of sharp corners, but they are also very catchy once you get used to their odd turns. Rouse plays with a fat, breathy tone and fits himself around Monk's angles without losing his own voice. Warren and Riley hold everything steady, which gives Monk room to play his off-kilter comping and short, punchy solos. Nothing about the record is trying to impress you with big gestures. It is a working band having fun with material they know inside out.
Within Monk's catalog, this is a solid, accessible entry rather than a peak. Monk's Blue Note and Riverside sessions from the 1950s are more often cited as essential, and if you are new to him, start with Thelonious Himself (1957) or Monk's Dream (1963) before this one. But for listeners who already like Monk and want a relaxed, enjoyable quartet session with his personality front and center, this album delivers exactly that.
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