Bentley's Bandstand
To anyone who’s followed rhythm & blues and jazz the past half-century, the name David “Fathead” Newman is an instant friend. He came out of the rough and tumble roadhouse world of Texas blues in the late ‘40s, first touring with T-Bone Walker and other pioneers when that sound was being invented. Then he walked into the Ray Charles Orchestra in the ‘50s, as good a musical proving ground as ever existed. Newman made an immediate impression, and his tenor saxophone solos there are still talked about today as studies in raw-boned fire with a strong side of sophistication. He had a way of holding his horn and playing to the heavens, secure that the notes he blew found their way above at the same they drove Charles’ audiences down below completely wild. There is something very sexual about a saxophone--like it’s a sonic elixir--and David Newman knew it. His tone has always been all his own, even when it comes to the group of players holding down first chairs at the Texas tenor table. This man charted a distinctive course, and was quickly established in the ‘60s at Atlantic Records as the go-to session man on R&B and pop songs alike. King Curtis got a lot of the ink during those days, but “Fathead” Newman wasn’t far behind him. And once Newman started making his own jazz albums then, the deal was sealed. What’s so promising about Diamondhead, which celebrates the sax man’s 75th birthday this year, is how his abilities continue to deepen, like he’s exploring the sound waves to get closer and closer to their center. Of course the stellar band helps, with Cedar Walton on piano and Curtis Fuller on trombone, but a leader leads and that’s exactly what Newman does. He sets the pace, urging the other players on, and then takes the whole band in the direction he wants. It’s a totally swinging affair, whether they’re stretching out on smoldering ballads or bopping through swinging bounces. It’s all music in the hands of men who have found their groove and are not letting go.





