The protean trumpeter, producer, record executive, and philanthropist Herb Alpert has often said that he isn’t interested in revisiting the past, preferring to explore new directions and pursuits. This trait he shares with one of his trumpet heroes, Miles Davis, who also prided himself on never looking back.
But at the end of his career, Miles relented and allowed himself a glance at his treasured Gil Evans collaborations with a single concert in Montreux, Switzerland. And so, at 91, Alpert, too, is looking back at his incredible 1960s run through popular culture and the record charts with the Tijuana Brass. Far more ambitious than Miles’ single gig, Alpert’s TJB tour began last year and reached the Hollywood Bowl on Sunday evening, July 5, road-tested and ready to burn.
Burn it did. It was an electrifying, age-defying performance, one that not only proved that Alpert has plenty of fuel in his tank, but also validated some of the most joyous, well-crafted, stylistically indefinable music that ever captured a mass audience.
Alpert, to be sure, has regularly brought back bits of his TJB repertoire on his recent albums, but always in radically different arrangements and tempos. This time, he was delivering the real ‘60s originals – often note-for-note, with the odd humorous pauses and other structural innovations intact. Chart after memorable chart tumbled out of the loudspeakers — “The Lonely Bull” for starters, “The Mexican Shuffle,” “A Taste of Honey,” “Tijuana Taxi,” “The Work Song,” the occasional deep cut like “Memories of Madrid,” even a daring run through the supersonic-paced “Zorba the Greek” — as memorabilia and amusing clips from the TJB television specials filled the backing screen.
Twenty of the songs were from the Tijuana Brass records. Three came from later recordings like the middle-period, surprise hit “Rise”; the perfectly constructed, Latin-flavored “Route 101”; and Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile.” Since all of the original members of the Tijuana Brass except bassist Pat Senatore are now gone, Alpert formed a new touring band with longtime sideman Bill Cantos (piano, marimba), Kris Bergh (second trumpet), Ryan Dragon (trombone, flugelhorn), Kerry Marx (guitars), Hussain Jiffry (bass), and Ray Brinker (drums) – and they punched out those decades-old charts with ebullient joy.
Historians tend to overlook Alpert and the Brass when they write about music in the 1960s, probably because their music can’t be easily categorized. The TJB built bridges between classic and modern jazz, rock, Brazilian music, easy-listening pop, and a dash of mariachi that attracted both sides of the ‘60s generation gap, a rare feat then. The jazz police sneered at this lucrative hybrid, but it looks like Alpert is getting the last laugh as some record stores now place his albums in the jazz bins instead of “lounge” or “easy listening.”
Indeed, Alpert has been more in touch with his jazz roots the older he gets. You can tell from the inflections and phrasings within his distinctive trumpet sound, which was always sparing, to-the-point, and continues to serve him well.
His Sunday performance of “Ladyfingers” — a deep cut from the famous Whipped Cream & Other Delights album that has found unexpected mass appeal in the TikTok age – is even better now than in 1965, far more expressive and emotional. With “Smile,” he soulfully evoked the memory of departed colleagues from his A&M label (once headquartered in Chaplin’s old studio), topping it off with a tiny quote from Miles’ intro to “Springsville.”
Playing as well as Alpert does on this physically demanding instrument is supposed to be impossible at his age, but he’s doing it, cannily conserving his strength. Not only that, he remains in firm command of his ensemble, conducting it from his swivel chair, loosening the reins occasionally to let his younger colleagues take solos. It is just amazing to watch.
The TJB records sold like mad in their day, dominating the album charts until sales suddenly fell off a cliff starting in 1969, shortly before an exhausted Alpert disbanded the Brass. One possible reason for the decline was the times; 1968 had been a nightmare year in American history, and the bright, optimistic, nonpartisan TJB sound could no longer soothe the wounds, nor unite the generations.
But clearly, people have not forgotten the Brass. Alpert’s social media page claims that, as of May, the TJB tour has attracted 52 consecutive sold-out dates.
One wondered whether there would be enough fans to take on a bigger challenge of filling the huge 17,500-seat Bowl. They just about did. Only a few uppermost rows of seats looked vacant. As per the title of one of the best TJB albums, it was S.R.O. all over again.
