Beverly Kenney :: Born To Be Blue (1959)

Once championed to eclipse the likes of June Christy and Chris Connor, Beverly Kenney was found dead a few months after the release of Born To Be Blue (1959), wearing only a pink nightgown and surrounded by empty bottles and scattered pills. With this in mind, the album takes on a haunted quality, and Kenney becomes an enigmatic figure whose legacy exists in the twilight of myth and verity. If there were a Mount Rushmore of “Midnite Jazz” artists, Kenney would be on it, her short life as bittersweet as the songs she sang.

Midnite Jazz :: The Tommy Flanagan Trio (1960)

The Midnite Jazz column returns with The Tommy Flanagan Trio (1960): a purely laid-back rendezvous into classic jazz ballads and standards. With a sprightly runtime of just over a half-hour, it’s the perfect soundtrack for late-night strolls after last calls, when the streets are as hushed as the trio’s dynamics.

Paul Desmond :: Glad To Be Unhappy (1965)

Our Midnite Jazz series returns. Intended by RCA Victor to plug into the jazzy side of the budding mood music market of the 1960s, Glad To Be Unhappy is at its best when Desmond’s light, melodic tone on the alto sax takes the lead line — a signature tone that Desmond once described as “trying to sound like a dry martini.”

Helen Merrill :: S/T (1955)

For the latest entry into our ‘Midnite Jazz’ series, we take a trip back to Manhattan circa 1954 and find a twenty-one-year-old Quincy Jones embarking on his first studio gig as an arranger for Helen Merrill’s eponymous debut album.

Oscar Peterson :: Romance (1954)

Our ‘Midnite Jazz’ series continues with an often overlooked release from Oscar Peterson’s mid-fifties output. Romance features the decorated jazz pianist stepping in front of the microphone for his vocal debut, softly crooning his way through standards and ballads with pure class and cozy intimacy.

Anne Phillips :: Born To Be Blue (1959)

Released in 1959, Anne Phillips’ debut album takes listeners on a journey through the melancholic twilights of a bygone New York City, one that you can only find in bar-stool memories of young love and innocence lost. If there ever was an album for the wee small hours of the morning, it’s Phillips’ Born To Be Blue.

John Coltrane And Johnny Hartman (1963)

Turning 60 this year, Coltrane and Hartman is essential listening not just for jazz aficionados, but hopeless romantics far and wide. The smokey mood of the record eclipses its genre, belonging more to an ethereal wavelength of nocturnal ambiance than musical categorization.

Ahmad Jamal’s Alhambra (1961)

What makes Ahmad Jamal’s Alhambra so salient – so casually charming and endearing – is that it belongs to a singular night. It’s not only a live performance, but a sonic documentation of an evening spent at the Alhambra in Chicago.