Take Five

On my 11th birthday, my dad handed me an orange album titled Time Out. "Dave Brubeck," he said. "Now, this is great music. Listen to 'Take Five.'"

I wasn't even sure what Take Five meant -- I certainly wouldn't have known it referred to the unusual 5/4 time of the piece. While "Take Five" wasn't the first jazz piece to utilize this meter, it is part of what made the piece distinctive.  

Time Out was actually released in 1959, years before it became my gift. In 1961, "Take Five," the album's most popular piece, became the first million selling jazz single on the Billboard Hot 100 charts.

Believing my dad, as only an adoring daughter can, I played Time Out, and thought it very interesting. But I had no frame of reference for it aside from what my dad had told me. At the time, I idolized James Taylor, and jazz certainly couldn't compare with his music. It would be years before I would "see" into the appreciation my dad was talking about. But it was a start. And I never forgot it.

Now, when I listen to my favorite jazz, whether it's Bird, or Miles, John Coltrane or The Dave Brubeck Quartet, I think of my dad, who passed away last year. The love of jazz was one of his many legacies that I hold dear.

I recently watched a video of The Dave Brubeck Quartet performing "Take Five" in 1966 in Germany: the bespectacled Brubeck on piano, Paul Desmond on alto sax, Eugene Wright on bass, and Joe Morello (wearing sunglasses) on drums. It's Desmond's piece -- meaning, he composed it -- and it's also Desmond who fascinates me watching the video. I close my eyes listening to his sax and hear an eloquent white man's musing on urbanity, feeling the race toward the future and technology and liking it. It's truly a brilliant musical articulation.