Standard Deviations is an exploration of and an homage to the great Jazz Standards of the 20th century. These unique arrangements include fresh harmonic and conceptual "deviations." Some combine multiple tunes, letting one melody "deviate" into another, showing how many of these celebrated tunes are related to each another.
This page is currently a Project Page meant to share specific takes and conceptual drafts with fellow collaborators.
Volume One (Disc 1) highlights Tobin’s uptempo arrangements and is dedicated to his father who preferred fast-paced instrumental jazz ensembles; Volume Two (Disc 2) has quieter arrangements and is dedicated to Tobin's mother who loved the slower vocal ballads of the swing era.
Although Tobin's acoustic grand is the central instrument (a third of the tracks are mainly piano), this is more an ensemble style album, interspersed with solo piano reveries. Instrumental guests include Grammy winning blues guitarist Paul Nelson (Johnny Winter, Eric Clapton, Paul Nelson Band) and Tobin's long-time collaborator saxophonist Woody Mankowski (The Muller's Wheel, Come In Funky, Rain Bather). Four tracks include percussionists Lamar A. Moore (Lettuce, Karl Denson's Tiny Universe) and six feature drummer Mike Nappi (J Geils Band, The Orion Experience). See track lists below for specific player appearances.
In addition to these musicians, Tobin layers in vintage electric pianos and synths, B3 organ, prepared and altered acoustic pianos, and Trilogy bass, generating a wide variety of textured settings, even when other players are not involved. The collection is full of unexpected delights and "deviations" into many genres.
Art is meant to challenge convention, open up thought (as well as emotion), redefine potential, challenge one's perspective and break down boundaries. As these songs morph between styles and juxtapose melodies, we are freed, just a bit, of preconceptions and established patterns. We discover new details, contemplate correlations we may have missed, embrace imaginative deviations and reintegrate our memory with refreshed meaning.
Jazz is an improvisational medium. Although Jazz musicians have a deep appreciation of musical history, they rarely desire to play a song the same way twice. They are deeply committed to the present, as both listeners and innovators. They see the present as a past/future nexus, where all "deviations" both support and extend music as an art form. Each piece in this collection illustrates how newness evolves from tradition. In this way, Standard Deviations becomes an extension of Mueller's Masterworks Trilogy (Flow, Of Two Minds, Impressions of Water & Light) and could well be considered its fourth installment.
Every track is both streamable and downloadable (MP3s). Tobin has included several alternative takes and initial concept tracks to present a small window into the recording/production process. These alternative tracks are not available anywhere else and do not appear on the CD.
Thanks to John Shyloski (Factory Underground Studios) for his help with the cover art (which is based on an actual standard deviations graph) and back cover photography (see bottom of this page).
Possible selections:• Take the "A" Train*‡
Mercer Ellington (Duke's son) found a draft of Take the "A" Train in a trash can after Strayhorn had discarded it. It soon became the most famous composition to emerge from the historic collaboration between Billy Strayhorn and the Duke Ellington orchestra. The title refers to the then-new A subway service that runs through New York City, going at that time from eastern Brooklyn up into Harlem and northern Manhattan. The song was composed in 1939, after Ellington offered Strayhorn a job in his organization and gave him money to travel from Pittsburgh to New York City. Ellington wrote directions for Strayhorn to get to his house by subway, directions that began, "Take the A Train". Our version is a post-bop stream of consciousness journey through a more modern urban landscape.
NOTE: The alternative preproduction concept track (see above) is all keyboards, synth drums and piano. The moody arrangement was my original concept, but after hearing Lamar play, we switched gears.
This has always been one of my favorite Beatles songs - not just because of its concise poetic lyrics, but also its subtle use of major-minor shifts that shape its haunting melody. The dark harmonic beauty creates tension above the triplet rhythmic bed, my way of expressing the tragic expectation of joy behind McCartney’s lyrics. The emotional eruption during the climax underscores the restraint of everything that comes before and must, most certainly, follow. Rolling Stone has a great article about the evolution of this iconic song, (check it out.)
High energy funk-fusion definitely is a departure from the empathic performance of Billie Holiday's original version, but, I wanted it to capture the chaotic energy of youth sorting out the confused potential of a world without proper moorings. Half way through the tune morphs into What A Wonderful World - an oasis of gentleness and love. The returning funk groove has less certainty than the initial groove, yet perhaps more courage, more maturity.
Combining two of my favorites - Birdland by Weather Report (fusion jazz) and Long Distance Runaround by Yes (progressive rock) – into a single medley has been a long desire of mine. Fusion and progressive rock came about at the same time and I’ve always conflated the two. Long Distance Runaround is not just as an introduction, but is into the middle frenetic piano solo as well. (Note that the opening instrumental duet is made up of dueling Wurlitzer electric pianos, not guitars.) Birdland splices themes one after another in a shish kabob style, so integrating a new theme came naturally. The frenetic ending developed as an unexpected collaborative consequence the end of a very long recording session!
The first recording of this jazz-blues classic was by Avery Parrish with the Erskine Hawkins Orchestra, on June 10, 1940. It was an instant hit. Noteworthy subsequent versions were recorded by the likes of Benny Goodman, Dizzy Gillespie, Sonny Rollins, Woody Herman and numerous others. Since 1984 it has been the theme song for the Jazz After Hours program on NPR. Woody Mankowski and I perform it as a straight ahead trio, with the organ playing the part of the larger orchestra (as heard in the Big Band versions). At 2:55, the song transforms into a twisted blues take on Monk's Point, forming the tune's climax. This track is the least "deviated" from it's original of all others in this collection, my homage to the blues roots of jazz.
This Big Band style arrangement features Mike Nappi on drums, anchoring the ensemble. In reality, however, it is a "simple" duet, with me playing all the other instruments: acoustic piano, Fender Rhodes and Wurlitzer electric pianos, B3 organ, and Trilogy bass. Although it sounds like a jazz guitar solo in the middle, that is a Wurlitzer piano (@2:04). Cool is a wonderful example of the tension between letting it all hang out and holding back. West Side Story, by the way, is why I wanted to write musicals. Every song in that show is brilliant.
This begins as a fairly traditional handling of the great blues standard, Moanin' but transforms into modern fusion before Blue Monk takes over. Both drums and electric guitar have yet to be mixed in, although the drumming has been recorded. Mike Nappi's drumming adeptly fuses the jazz and rock world, setting the stage for Paul Nelson's powerful guitar work. My piano attempts to channel a bit of Thelonious, one of my favorite passtimes. The Trilogy bass weaves its a dreamy pulse feel just beneath the surface.
By the time Bessie Smith had the opportunity to put her inimitable stamp on “St. Louis Blues” in 1925, this W. C. Handy classic was already the most popular and well-known blues song in existence. It's one of the first songs I accompanied my mother on, as a teenager. However, this is not at all the way I played it for my mom 45 years ago. It is an homage not only to W. C. Handy, but to Herbie Hancock and Dr. John as well. The straight ahead funk rhythms played by drummer Lamar Moore gives this legendary tune a fresh feel. Woody's blues saxophone adds yet another layer.
NOTE: The alternative version (see above) includes the original extended organ solo prior to the addition of drums and sax.
I've long wanted to combine these two rhythmically-themed Gershwin classics into a single manic romp. Fascinating Rhythm was introduced in the 1924 Broadway musical "Lady Be Good" by Fred and Adele Astaire. I Got Rhythm was published in 1930. Its chord progression, known as the "rhythm changes", is the foundation for many other popular jazz tunes such as the Charlie Parker/Dizzy Gillespie bebop standard "Anthropology (Thrivin' on a Riff)". It is from this latter style that I take my cue. The introduction is Ellington's It Don't Mean a Thing (1931) which I've always associated with Gershwin's predating classics. Its title, however, was the "credo" of Ellington's trumpeter, Bubber Miley, who was dying of tuberculosis at the time; Miley died the year that the song was released.
This arrangement combines progressive rock with swing jazz, just as it brings together blues guitarist Paul Nelson and myself. Acoustic piano and electric guitar are not often paired. Their sonic qualities are difficult to meld. Producer Kenny Cash expreimented with hip hop beats to bridge the gap. The result defies genres and updates the rhytmic innovations of Gershwin and Ellington.
The pre-mixed/pre-edited draft include clicks, digital distortion and hard cuts between different takes, all of which will be fixed during future mixing sessions. Please disregard for now.
Dave Brubeck was my most influential musical mentor. He wedded classical music precision with jazz improvisation, as I've tried to do throughout much of my career. Conceived as a drum/piano duet, this arrangement is an homage to the groundbreaking album Time Out that revolutionized music. In my own personal evolution, Take Five was a stepping stone to countless time signature experiments. This is the piano-only concept draft. I look forward to working with the drummer and guitarist soon.
Thelonious Monk remains one of the greatest influences on both my playing and writing. I try to add something new to this Monk classic by making it a concept piece: It begins in a bar, reflecting the title. An out of tune saloon upright slowly morphs into my grand piano, as the enitre piece rises from the smoke-filled room. (The version with me talking, before we added the drummer, is the first alternative track above.) Woody Mankowski's tenor sax adds to the atmospherics, then really kicks it up a notch with a great solo midway through. Mike Nappi's drumming grounds the piece, then propells it into its climax.
The second alternative version is the actual concept track I first brought inot the studio, before saxophone and drums and other sounds were added. It consists of three pianos (2 acoustic and 1 electric) and bass. A prepaired piano provides the percussion. (I know, it sounds like a drum kit, but its really a piano filled with nails etc.) I thought it would be fun to share the original bare bones idea before my producer Kenny Cash started suggesting changes.
Originally a 1945 French song, "Les Feuilles mortes" (literally "The Dead Leaves"), Autumn Leaves was composed by Hungarian-French composer Joseph Kosma with lyrics by poet Jacques Prévert. The Hungarian title is "Hulló levelek" (Falling Leaves). Yves Montand (with Irène Joachim) introduced "Les feuilles mortes" in the film Les Portes de la nuit (1946). As a musician who as a teenager considered saxophone my main instrument, Autumn Leaves was the first jazz band tune I ever played. Also as a saxophonist, I consider Charlie "Bird" Parker (Ornithology) the greatest alto sax player ever. (His phrasing and innovations have guided my piano playing, as well.) I couldn't resist the chance to combine the two: the swirling flight of leaves and birds. The track begins by quoting the original 1946 recording of (Ornithology by The Charlie Parker Septet (with Benny Harris on trumpet). This enables the listener to better hear the origin of the countermelodies I employ in my arrangement of Autumn Leaves. The sax riffs that intermingle with catbird, mockingbird and cardinal calls are from Bird's tune "Just Friends". Ornithology is a contrafact – a newly created melody written over the chord progression of another song, in this case the standard "How High the Moon". Notice that both Autumn Leaves and Ornithology were first recorded in the same year.
I bring some new elements to this classic tune, something outside the blues setting that has been done so successfully by Ray Charles, Ella Fitzgerald, Eric Clapton and others. Georgia On My Mind is about home, an elusive and changing concept. I intermix Impressionism, jazz, blues and tin pan alley to create a full life journey. The juxtaposition of styles speaks to the idea of how memory folds together disparate emotions with redeeming grace.
After recording this medley on piano, I had an idea to record individual notes and reverse them to create the feel of shooting stars in the background. One thing led to another and pretty soon I was programming a Native Instrument FM8 module to add additional augmentations. I like the way the acoustic piano moves in and out of the electronic enhancements. The bells occasionally dip below the surface of the moonlit river. Windchimes and other whirling sounds remind the listener of the wind that will soon take Dorothy over the rainbow.
Stardust was my mother's favorite song, the only song I ever heard her play on the piano. The Latin-Calypso feel of this arrangement would surprised her yet, hopefully, delight her. I can see her dancing to it in the kitchen with breezy joy. Woody Mankowski provides the soprano saxophone colorations. Simplicity is at the core of this arrangement, an oasis of restraint in an album of compressed ideas and restless diversity. Note: the bassline is barely audible when played through a computer's speakers. Headphones may be needed to hear it.
There are intentional parallels between this arrangement and that of Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I wanted to interpret a journey beyond the rainbow, into the stars, something lighter than air, romantic, moonlit. One of the wonderfully balanced melodies in the American Songbook, I support it with chords that surprise yet comfort, uplift yet are not frivolous, creating a contemplative motion that both cherishes memories and looks forward with anticipation.
Composed as an instrumental in 1932 by Duke Ellington, the song was inspired by three of Ellington's grade school teachers. "They taught all winter and toured Europe in the summer," the Duke wrote. "To me that spelled sophistication." My piano captures the mood of an open-minded traveler descending airstairs onto a tarmac of new experience and mysterious culture. Woody Mankowski's tenor saxophone introduces Ellington's transcendent melody (the eptitome of 20th century "popular sophistication" - a phrase that would be an oxymoron in less capable hands) with melancholy. The arrangement slowly morphs into bewitched then frolicsome reverie. The current version is a raw early mix, without proper leveling, effects, etc.
In 1953, this exquisitely balanced tune from the musical film Calamity Jane introduced Doris Day to the world. If this were the only version of the song, I would never have picked it for this collection. Many others have covered it, from Frank Sinatra and Freddy Fender, but it was pianist Brad Mehldau's live version that made me realize how supremely pretty this songs is. The slow tempo and subtle shifts into modal jazz adds an air of hushed melancholy. Secret love can be thrilling, but more often ends in tragic longing and emptiness. I've tried to make this version more about sweet remembrance, however.
As in most of these arrangements, I first recorded this piece on piano and then layered on electronic and acoustic augmentations. Two electronic pianos (Wurlitzer and Fender Rhodes) double with the acoustic piano to create a resonant keyboard sound. EXS modules provide the other embellishments. A few carefully placed bowed piano strings round out the additions. My variations of Summertime capture the whimsy and lightness of summer viewed through the lens of childhood memory. (There's nothing like summertime to bring you out of a blue reverie.) My first take ended in a style reminiscent of Coney Island and circus music, but my wife, who dislikes circuses and Coney Island, suggested I redo it. The new ending is more ethereal, more of a summer day spent in the backyard, surrounded by the security and liesure of youth; or, in my wife's case, in the beauty of her self-tended gardens. Currently, only the first take is available. I will post the second version soon.
This is a simple keyboard duet between an acoustic grand and a Fender Rhodes, with added percussion for rhythmic color and variation. The electric piano plays the theme from The Way You Look Tonight and the accoustic piano plays The Nearness of You, showing how related the two melodies are. I love how the fit together alsmost seamlessly. (Certain liberties of timing were required to make them perfectly compatible.) There is an electric piano note at the beginning which will be removed on final mixing, please disregard. Also, the drums are not loud enough yet.
Combining these two songs presented a certain unity of pathos for me. One is about the aftermath of a break up; the other is about the longing inherent in people simply needing people, resutling in the never-ending cycle that fuels so many songs (and relationships). After playing with classic jazz chord substitutions, the arrangement gravitates toward Chopin, forgoing suggested genre rules for a deeper romaniticism. Of course, everything falls aprt by the end and eventually returns to the beginning, presumably to try the whole (relationship) thing all over again. Such is life. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes is another classic tune by composer Jerome Kern (and lyricist Otto Harbach) from his 1933 musical Roberta. People is a song composed by Jule Styne with lyrics by Bob Merrill for the 1964 Broadway musical Funny Girl starring Barbra Streisand, who introduced the song.
My Funny Valentine is a show tune from the 1937 Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart musical Babes in Arms. A popular jazz standard, the song appears on over 1300 albums performed by over 600 artists. My favorite is the Miles Davis Quintet version; although Massimo Faraó's piano interpretation is a close second. (Although it's impossible not to associate Chet Baker to this tune.) I have kept the romantic tempo and accentuated the moodiness with synths and a hint of whole tone harmonies. My electric piano solo (in the second half of the arrangement) reminds me of my college days when a Wurlitzer piano was my go to instrument. Playing it again lent to the experience an additional layer of nostalgia.
This song was written in the small French fishing village of Le Lavandou and had its first performance in the summer of 1939 in a local bar. The composer Sherwin, played piano as Eric Maschwitz (lyricist) sang the words while holding a glass of wine. According to legend, nobody seemed impressed. I love this image. If any song could be made better by holding a glass of wine, it is this one. The melody is wonderfully conversational, like Burt Bacharach's "Alphie." Playing this tune is like being caught a meditatively mindful stream of consciousness. The first version I recall hearing was by Manhattan Transfer (which won Gene Puerling a Grammy in 1981) even though the song had already been recorded by many of my favorite singers (Mel Tormé, Bobby Darin, Frank Sinatra) and big bands (Glenn Miller, Sammy Kaye). It is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. The many runs I use symbolize the nightingales swooping above the street lamps in the night sky.
This dreamy, haunting rendition highlights the introspective aspects of one of the sweetest soliloquy songs ever written. I use a mixture of reversed and bowed piano, framed by synth and piano continuum, in the extended introduction in order to present the tune's hopeful yet chimerical context. The main body of the piece is modal and shifting, searching and reflective. The hint of synth in the air, at the very end, is a simple exhale, a silent reminder of the question who's answer often remains just beyond...