Chicapah As wild as the 70s were when it came to the experimental, avant garde and fusion movements blossoming in modern jazz there were also a slew of artists like Tom Scott who were cultivating and distributing a much milder and more easily digestible product to the populace called “Light Jazz.” This watered down but somehow attractive alternative became immensely popular within a widening stratum of the public who claimed to like jazz just fine as long as it didn’t get all complex and stuff. Many talented musicians opted to go traipsing down this less-demanding route in their careers and the nothing-but-the-truth answer to the question of “why?” can only be left to speculation (although I have no doubt that positive profit margins figured in extensively). George Benson, Stanley Turrentine, David Sanborn, Chuck Mangione, Lee Ritenour and Spyro Gyra are just a few of the founders of this branch of jazz that didn’t intend to broaden anyone’s horizons but did succeed in getting instrumental music back in the mainstream. Not since the heyday of the “Easy Listening” format promulgated by the likes of Mantovani, Ferrante & Teicher and Percy Faith (my dear, late mother LOVED that schlock) in the 50s and early 60s had music-only recordings had a sizeable audience to cater to. As in any genre, there were some who were more proficient and worthy of respect than others and Tom Scott and his slick L.A. Express outfit belong in that category.

Tom was a guy who really got around, working with an eclectic array of artists ranging from The Grateful Dead to Barbara Streisand and from Pink Floyd to Blondie. He also made a name for himself as a freelance composer, orchestrator and conductor who was able to garner a lot of work creating catchy TV theme songs on both coasts. In the mid-70s he recognized that there was a viable market opening up for friendly, uncomplicated jazz sounds that offered listeners something that was a noticeable step above elevator muzak but stopped short of challenging their aural sense. In short order he put together a band of proven professionals and released two albums that met all the criteria necessary to put them in contention for leading the vanguard of this new offshoot of the institution known as jazz. “Tom Cat” was their sophomore effort and, drawn to them by their pristine work with Joni Mitchell, I sprang for it in 1974 and hoped to be blown away when I got it on my turntable. It turned out to be no more than a cool breeze.

All the cuts were written by members of the group and bassist Max Bennett contributed the opener, “Rock Island Rocket,” that has a percolating, “Shaft”-ish undercurrent running through it that fuels it with an energized pulse. Tom’s saxophone plays a likeable melody that leads to an upbeat jam where Larry Nash’s electric piano, Robben Ford’s guitar and Scott himself get to contribute decent solos. Max’s “Tom Cat” follows and its funky groove immediately gets your head bobbin’ in time to the tight track that he and drummer John Guerin lay down. Their economic utilization of the synthesizer is a tasteful move and their consistent adherence to a conservative approach keeps this simple tune enjoyable. Robben’s “Day Way” is a little less commercial in that it contains a handful of unexpected detours to hold your interest. Ford performs a clever guitar ride and John’s superb drum work on the song reminds me of what I think Steve Gadd would’ve done with it and that’s a large compliment. Bennett’s “Keep On Doin’ It” is next and it comes with a Latin rock feel that’s generously peppered with some nifty percussion. Larry’s perky electric piano dominates. Tom’s “Love Poem” has an ethereal introduction and then it evolves into a smooth-flowing ballad. Dense, big band-styled harmonics in the horn section accentuated by his flute are at play, manufacturing a subtle and moody atmosphere.

Guerin’s “Good Evening Mr. & Mrs. America & All The Ships At Sea” is propelled by an aggressive rock beat and at times sounds like what Jeff Beck was into during that era but Robben’s thin guitar tone is a distraction and he subtracts rather than adds in regard to the momentum. Scott’s lively saxophone lead is much more appropriate. The 6/4 time signature that characterizes Nash’s “Backfence Cattin’” is a welcome change of pace. The number has some interesting kicks and accents happening but don’t get too excited, Return to Forever fare this ain’t. Tom and Max are responsible for composing the eight and a half-minute “Mondo” and its semi-Mahavishnu Orchestra aura awards it the designation of being the album’s most involved and interesting track by far. According to the credits either Tom or Larry is at fault but the unnerving synthesizer intrusion is too reedy to be compelling and it kinda spoils the moment. Once they segue from that to a jazzy shuffle Nash tosses in a spunky electric piano ride that helps to even the score. John’s drumming is excellent, especially during his not-so-brief solo that caught me off guard. They end with Scott’s “Refried,” a lazy song that sports a contemporary AOR groove drifting underneath a slinky sax and guitar melody line. Ford’s acoustic guitar lead and Tom’s lyricon ride are both fairly predictable and safe.

The “Light Jazz” phenomenon continued to grow to the point where almost every major American city had at least one FM radio station that touted proudly that all of their programming was “mellow and relaxing.” Now that we’re in the 21st millennium that brand of jazz has slowly faded out of favor but it lives on as soundtrack music for The Weather Channel’s “Local on the 8s” feature. I refuse to be such a constipated jazz snob that I would disparage or dismiss the whole curriculum out of hand because there are dozens of other forms of music (and crap that calls itself as much) in this world that I would never prefer over it. Tom Scott and the L.A. Express provided a service that was in high demand at the time and it’s hard to criticize them for being savvy businessmen. After making this album they would take a 23-year break from recording together so they never became a force to be reckoned with but they have nothing to be ashamed of on “Top Cat.” It is what it is. If the contents were half as intriguing as David McMacken’s cover illustration it would be a revered landmark. In my final analysis, it’s a good record that won’t put a strain upon anyone’s brain.