Simmons anchors these performances with intelligence and restraint, letting McRae's voice command the room.
What makes Live" & Wailing memorable is Norman Simmons at the piano. This was the second half of a concert recorded at the Village Gate, and Simmons does something quietly essential: he doesn't overstate his role. McRae is the center, always, and Simmons knows it. He comps with precision, fills space only when needed, and gives her room to stretch into phrases without crowding her. His touch is clean and modern without being cold. Listen to how he sits behind her phrasing—he's not following predictably; he's anticipating, laying groundwork that feels conversational.
These recordings come from a specific moment in McRae's career when her interpretive powers were at their peak. The band—Victor Sproles on bass and Stu Martin on drums—is tight and responsive, but it's Simmons who shapes the sound. He understands that the best piano work in a vocal setting is often invisible. The listener hears McRae's voice first, the rhythm section's pocket second, and Simmons' playing third, but that doesn't mean his work matters least.
This album isn't a showstopper—it's a working jazz performance that landed on wax. The material is jazz standard fare, the tempos are sensible, and nobody's trying to revolutionize anything. What you get instead is craftsmanship: a vocalist and her band in sync, playing for each other in a room that night, and a pianist who understood exactly where he fit in the picture.