The Album Built on Broken Rules
In 1959, the Dave Brubeck Quartet was one of the biggest acts in jazz, famous for selling out college auditoriums. Brubeck, who had already graced the cover of Time magazine, was a bona fide star. For his next project, he had a bold idea inspired by a U.S.
State Department tour that took his band through Eurasia. In Turkey, he was captivated by street musicians playing a folk song in a dizzying 9/8 time signature. This sparked the concept for an entire album of original songs using these “odd” time signatures, a significant departure from the standard 4/4 beat that underpinned almost all jazz and popular music. The album would be called Time Out. It was a high-concept gamble, an experimental record from an artist at his commercial peak. Columbia Records, his label, was not thrilled.
The Executives Who Said No
Record labels, then as now, are in the business of selling records, and Brubeck’s idea sounded commercially toxic. They wanted the reliable mix of standards and show tunes that had made him a star. An album of tunes in meters like 5/4 and 9/8 was a tough sell. According to Brubeck himself, only one person at the company showed any enthusiasm: Columbia Records president Goddard Lieberson. A composer himself, Lieberson loved the freshness of the idea, but when he played early versions for the company’s sales representatives, he came back with bad news: “Nobody liked it.” The label was particularly wary of a track written by the quartet's alto saxophonist, Paul Desmond. The song was built around a loping 5/4 rhythm that drummer Joe Morello had been toying with. It was so unusual that even Desmond was skeptical, reportedly saying, “I can’t write a tune in 5/4.” Brubeck helped him structure his two melodic ideas into the now-iconic A-A-B-A form, and “Take Five” was born.
An Artist's Unwavering Insistence
Despite the label’s cold feet, Brubeck held his ground. He was a musician driven by a constant curiosity, always seeking to blend different styles and push boundaries. Having studied with classical composer Darius Milhaud, he was no stranger to complex structures and had been experimenting with them for years. The pushback from Columbia wasn't just about one song; it was a challenge to his entire artistic vision for the album. Yet Brubeck persevered, recording Time Out in three sessions during the summer of 1959. The recording of "Take Five" itself was reportedly arduous, with the band struggling to lock into the unfamiliar beat over more than 20 failed attempts before nailing it. Brubeck's defiance was quiet but firm. He delivered the album he wanted to make, not the one the sales department expected. The label eventually relented and released Time Out in December 1959, but without much initial promotion.
From Radio Risk to Global Anthem
The album didn’t explode overnight. Its success was a slow burn, ignited not by a marketing campaign but by a few forward-thinking radio DJs in cities like Cleveland and Chicago. They started playing tracks from the album, particularly “Take Five.” Soon, listener requests began pouring in. The public, it turned out, was more than ready for something new. In 1961, two years after the album's release, Columbia finally put out “Take Five” as a single. It became a sleeper hit, climbing to number 25 on the Billboard Hot 100—an almost unheard-of feat for a purely instrumental jazz track, let alone one in 5/4 time. Time Out became the first jazz album to sell a million copies, and “Take Five” became the biggest-selling jazz single of all time. The song’s cool, hypnotic groove became a cultural touchstone, used as the theme for the Today show and appearing in countless films. The gamble had paid off, vindicating Brubeck's vision and proving that artistic integrity could also be a phenomenal commercial success.
