Vince Guaraldi Trio “Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus”

This is kind of a double record, side one being one thing and side two another, though they both fit together like peanut butter and… anything—and I kind of wish it was really a double record, as in, extra disc with more of what I’m sure was recorded, even if it’s outtakes, etc., because it’s all very cool and endlessly listenable, repeatedly lovely. It sounds like someone put the needle on Side One of this one about 1000 too many times—yet, it still works! The first side is songs from the film, Black Orpheus (1959), bossa nova classics by Luiz Bonfá and Antônio Carlos Jobim, songs that you know even if you don’t know you know them. These versions by Vince Guaraldi Trio—VG, piano, Monte Budwig, bass, and Colin Bailey, drums—are very nice—to me, unsophisticated as I am, sounding somewhere in the vast ocean between Latin and jazz. Exotic while also household as Frigidaire—I can’t listen to VG without always seeing some Charlie Brown or other come to life, but I mean that only in the best way.

The second side starts with the VG’s hit song “Cast Your Fate to the Wind” (another you’ve heard and probably know intimately, even if you get the name wrong on Jeopardy!). That’s followed by “Moon River”—a version that’ll make you forget the lost cat. And then another Guaraldi composition, “Alma-Ville,” which brings a place alive (I’m s’posin’ Alma-Ville) and you might imagine a jazz enthusiast beagle or something. Finally, the hit ballad “Since I Fell for You” (Buddy Johnson), so lyrical I don’t miss the lyrics—well, I suppose I’m singing along but no one has to know that. Also, there’s some heady liner notes by Ralph J. Gleason, and I’m here to tell you, nice reading over coffee—because that’s what I just did—while listening to this record, once again.

What are my impressions? It’s a super laidback jazz trio record—piano, bass, and drums—and I believe it’s the only Vince Guaraldi I have—they’re not easy to come by in the cheap record bins, in my experience—or I’d have more. This one must have sold a lot—since I managed a cheap copy. I have decidedly shallow pockets—have I made that clear? I’m surprised I even found this. You’d guess that his Great Pumpkin soundtrack sold a “bajillion” copies and should populate thrift stores everywhere, yet you never see it, and reissues even cost a lot. Anyway, this would be a good record to put on during a date, while mixing the cocktails. That’s assuming I’m the one mixing the cocktails—maybe we should be breaking up the chores—since I’m spinning the records and adjusting the soft lighting, maybe she’s making the cocktails and deveining the shrimp—or should I take care of the deveining—no one likes to do that. I’m assuming shrimp cocktails—but what if it comes down to real cocktails? Am I ready to start drinking again in order to take the edge off dating? And what if the cocktails she makes are like hazelnut butterscotch cookie dough “martinis”—or some current drink I don’t even know the name of? Icebreaker, or Dealbreaker? (Sounds like I just invented a new gameshow!) And does anyone really do that? Put records on, and then have to keep changing records during a date? Some advice, my friend: if you’re buying a turntable, make sure you get one with automatic return. When the needle gets to the end of the record and keeps going round and round in a that scratchy way, it’s a real mood-killer. Even if you’re at home alone and listening to records while cleaning, or cooking, or writing about records.

5.23.25