The liner notes claim that Betts is “recognized as one of the finest bassists of the second half of the Twentieth century.” This was news to me, though certainly he’s a solid veteran sideman whose c.v. includes stints with Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington and Charlie Byrd. Betts’ eager legions of fans will of course want this album, and will be pleased by the protrusiveness of the bass in the mix. For me, and I suspect for many others, the primary selling point here is the presence of the young pianist Bill Charlap. An impeccable player but never a glassily polished one, Charlap is at once workmanlike and almost reticently sublime. His lines, though they fall with a gossamer weight, are infused with deep care and thought – at times a Zen meditativeness. “Vivi’s Waltz,” his solo-piano feature here, is spare and direct, and more or less perfect. The rest of the album is uneven: nothing less than professional, but only on a few moments (such as the brief, gentle title track, a melody written in memory of Betts’s wife, who passed away six months before the gig) is it truly special. I confess I do find the unbalanced mix an irritant: Betts is not so remarkable a player that one wants a spotlight shone relentlessly on him.

Nate Dorward

Cadence, December 2002