It’s difficult to figure out why some sidemen never made it as date leaders. There’s really an unending list of players who worked for years behind folks as popular as John Coltrane, Miles Davis and Thelonius Monk while just never being capable of capturing the occasional transcendent moments in their bosses work without ‘em. Probably most disappointing is Charlie Rouse, who can and should be considered one of the better equipped sax players from the be bop era. In following Monk around on those odd notes, Rouse should have become adept enough at composing as to record a long player that was not just engaging to hear, but also a commercially viable product. It just didn’t happen. Perhaps a part of that – or the larger syndrome – stems from the fact that when sidemen are given free range they’re likely to attempt incorporation of any and all sounds their bosses disallowed from being tossed into those better known works.
While Rouse was toiling in some odd South American conception of what jazz was to become, though, Paul Chambers was able to cut a few albums during the latter part of the fifties that deserve a few listens – if only that.
Playing in some of the most important ensembles that Davis led during his acoustic period, Chambers was granted a surprising amount of freedom to explore various manners in which to voice the bass. His instrument wasn’t ever granted the same deference as any horn, but the solos he endeavored to pull off were on occasion startling.
Chambers wasn’t the first to apply a bow to a bass in a jazz context, but his work in this vein might have been the most widely spread. So while some other sidemen incorporated new elements into their sound during dates they led, Chambers stuck to what he was familiar with. And for that very reason, his 1957 album Bass on Top opens with a brief featurette of his bowing technique. It’s a surprisingly staid opening for a bop disc, especially for a player so connected to one of the most innovative performers of the era. But over the course of the album it’s clear that Chambers seeks swinging easy (the way Count Basie described his group’s approach to the big band sound) in a bop context.
Accompanied by Art Taylor, Hank Jones and Kenny Burrell, there’s really no way that the disc is gonna end up being a disappointment. That being said, even with this handful of talent, no one really grabs a hold of the session and pushes it anywhere too interesting. What actually saves the disc is Burrell’s guitar, lending an otherwise bland ensemble a distinctive voice - something akin to what a vocalist might do.
Perhaps all of this points towards the problem of having a bassist head up groups – Charles Mingus is an obvious exception. But without a soloist that’s going to hold a listeners attention, it’s clear after the first few minutes of the album that Bass on Top is more noteworthy for who performed at the session than for the session itself.

