Environs: A Blog About Jazz

Don't Miss David Meltzer, Michael Rothenberg & Spider Trio at Hideout, Nov. 19

2009-06-08T08:48:00.000-07:00

Long-time west coast denizen David Meltzer will be traveling to Chicago with Michael Rothenberg for a show I coordinated with the Hideout here in Chicago. The Hideout is one of my favorite music locales and the perfect home for this word and jazz salad that promises to be high on the excitement scale. Dan McNaughton's Spider Trio will perform as well as Bob Malone and Dan Godston's band. Don't miss it. Meltzer, who is a poet, editor, and musician, has edited many an anthology including "Reading Jazz," which features contributions by Robert Creeley, Igor Stravinsky, William Carlos Williams, Norman Mailer, Mina Loy and many other luminaries.

Thursday, Nov. 19

Rockpile (David Meltzer, Michael Rothenberg & Spider Trio) with special guests including Terri Carrion, Art Lange, Dan Godston, Francesco Levato, Larry Sawyer, Ed Roberson & Bob Malone.

@ The Hideout
1354 W. Wabansia, Chicago
8:00 to 11:30 pm
Phone: 773.227.4433

The Poetry Center of Chicago & Milk Magazine present:

ROCKPILE (featuring David Meltzer, Michael Rothenberg, Terri Carrion & Spider Trio)

A leading poet of the Beat Movement, David MELTZER was raised in Brooklyn during the War years; performed on radio & early TV on the Horn & Hardart Children's Hour. Was exiled to L.A. at 16 & at 17 enrolled in an ongoing academy w/ artists Wallace Berman, George Herms, Robert Alexander, Cameron; migrated to San Francisco in 1957 for higher education w/ peers & maestros like Jack Spicer, Robert Duncan, Joanne Kyger, Diane DiPrima, Michael McClure, Lew Welch, Philip Whalen, Jack Hirschman, and a cast of thousands all living extraordinary ordinary lives. Beat Thing [La Alameda Press, 2004] won the Josephine Miles PEN Award, 2005. Was editor and interviewer for San Francisco Beat: Talking With The Poets [City Lights, 2001]. With Steve Dickison, co-edits Shuffle Boil, a magazine devoted to music in all its appearances & disappearances. 2005 saw the publication of David's Copy: The Selected Poems of David Meltzer by Viking/Penguin, a collection spanning over forty years of work that paints a vivid portrait of Meltzer's life as a poet through poems taken from thirty of his previous books of poetry. With a versatile style and playful tone, Meltzer offers his unique vision of civilization with a range of juxtapositions from Jewish mysticism and everyday life to jazz and pop culture.

Michael ROTHENBERG is a poet, songwriter, and the editor of Big Bridge magazine online at www.bigbridge.org. His poetry books include Man/Woman, a collaboration with Joanne Kyger, The Paris Journals (Fish Drum Press), Monk Daddy (Blue Press), and Unhurried Vision (La Alameda/University of New Mexico Press). His poems have been published widely in small press publications including, 88: A Journal of Contemporary American Poetry, Berkeley Poetry Review, Exquisite Corpse, First Intensity, Fish Drum, Fulcrum, Golden Handcuffs Review, House Organ, Prague Literary Review, Tricycle, Van Gogh's Ear, Vanitas, Zyzzyva, JACK, milk, and Jacket. He is also author of the novel Punk Rockwell. Rothenberg's 2005 CD collaboration with singer Elya Finn, was praised by poet David Meltzer as "fabulous-all [the] songs sound like Weimar Lenya & postwar Nico, lushly affirmative at the same time being edged w/ cosmic weltschmertz. An immensely tasty production." He is also editor for the Penguin Poet series, which includes selected works of Philip Whalen, Joanne Kyger, David Meltzer, and Ed Dorn. He has recently completed the Collected Poems of Philip Whalen for Wesleyan University Press.

Terri CARRION was conceived in Venezuela and born in New York to a Galician mother and Cuban father. She grew up in Los Angeles where she spent her youth skateboarding and slam-dancing. Terri Carrion earned her MFA at Florida International University in Miami, where she taught Freshman English and Creative Writing, edited and designed the graduate literary magazine Gulfstream, taught poetry to High School docents at the Museum of Contemporary Art in North Miami and started a reading series at the local Luna Star Café. In her final semester at FIU, she was Program Director for the Study Abroad Program, Creative Writing in Dublin, Ireland. Her poetry, fiction, non-fiction and photography has been published in many print magazines as well as online, including The Cream City Review, Hanging Loose, Pearl, Penumbra, Exquisite Corpse, Mangrove, Kick Ass Review, Exquisite Corpse, Jack, Mipoesia, Dead Drunk Dublin, and Physik Garden among others. Her collaborative poem with Michael Rothenberg, "Cartographic Anomaly" was published in the anthology, Saints of Hysteria, A Half-Century of Collaborative American Poetry and her chapbook "Lazy Tongue" was published by D Press in the summer of 2007. Currently, she is collaborating on the translation of a Galician Anthology from Galician to Spanish to English, to appear in all three languages, in February of 2009, on BigBridge.org, for which she is assistant editor and art designer.

About SPIDER TRIO: Earle Brown, tenor saxophone; Joe Williams, drums; Dan McNaughton, bass and leader. Dan formed Spider Trio in 1997 in New Orleans, in order to perform his jazz compositions which express his love for a wide range of music, from funk to modern classical. The band is now based in Chicago, and the current lineup consists of Dan, Bryan Pardo on reeds, and Tim Keenan on drums. Another recent project of Dan's is the modern klezmer band Into The Freylakh, led by Bryan, whose self-titled first cd is also available through CD Baby. Into The Freylakh's repertoire ranges from traditional songs to original compositions, among them Dan's "Lenox Road." The second SPIDER TRIO cd, Presences, with Bryan and Tim, is out and for sale at CD Baby .

WITH GUESTS INCLUDING: Art Lange, Dan Godston, Larry Sawyer, Francesco Levato, Bob Malone, & Ed Roberson

Born in Chicago in 1952, Art LANGE is the author of hundreds of essays, reviews, articles, and interviews on music and poetry. His work has been published in publications as diverse as the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik and the Village Voice, New American Writing and the Partisan Review, and he has written program notes for over 200 jazz and classical recordings. He also published and edited Brilliant Corners: a magazine of the arts, from 1975-77. He is the co-editor (with Nathaniel Mackey) of Moment's Notice: Jazz in Poetry and Prose (1993: Coffee House Press), and is the author of five books of poetry, including Needles at Midnight (Z Press), Evidence (Yellow Press), and The Monk Poems (Frontward Books). Lange was editor of Down Beat magazine from 1984-88 and currently he teaches at Columbia College, Chicago.

Dan GODSTON teaches poetry and other art forms to young people and adults in the Chicago area. His poetry and fiction have appeared in Chase Park, Versal, 580 Split, Kyoto Journal, California Quarterly, after hours, Edgz, Kyunghyang Shinmun, and other publications, while his articles have appeared in Teaching Artist Journal, among other publications. Godston also co-curates the interdisciplinary arts series, Chicago Calling.

Larry SAWYER curates the Myopic Books Poetry Series in Wicker Park, Chicago. His chapbook Tyrannosaurus Ant (mother's milk press) was recently included in the Yale Collection of American Literature. His blog is Me tronome. His work was also recently included in A Writers’ Congress: Chicago Poets on Barack Obama’s Inauguration (anthology, DePaul Humanities Center Press, 2009). Larry also edits milkmag.org (since 1998). His publications include the Chicago Tribune, Babel Fruit, Vanitas, Jacket, MiPoesias, The Prague Literary Review, Coconut, 88, Hunger, Skanky Possum, Exquisite Corpse, Court Green, Shampoo, Van Gogh's Ear, and elsewhere.

Poet, translator, and new media artist Francesco LEVATO is the executive director of The Poetry Center of Chicago and the author of Marginal State (Fractal Edge Press, 2006) and is a contributor to Witness: Anthology of Poetry (Serengeti Press, 2004). His poetry has been published internationally in journals and anthologies, both in print and online, including The Progressive, XCP: Cross Cultural Poetics, Versal, and many others. His awards include two consecutive poetry fellowships at the Vermont Studio Center. His poetry-based video artwork has been exhibited in galleries and featured at film festivals in Berlin, Chicago, New York, and elsewhere.

Bob MALONE grew up in the wilds of New Jersey, where he started piano lessons at nine – within a year he could play anything put in front of him – and dreamed of being a classical musician. For years he listened only to classical music, but hearing Billy Joel in a Sears store was a revelation for him, and within a few years he was writing his own songs, and playing with rock bands. He studied music at Berklee in Boston (though he was already gigging regularly both solo and with bands, as he has ever since), after which he moved to Hollywood and embarked on an endless tour, playing an average of 100 shows a year. “Blazing and beautiful. Burning and elegant. Subtle and expansive. Unique and timeless. Malone contains multitudes of rhythm, soul, jazz, blues, smoke and magic.” — American Songwriter Magazine. For more information see BobMalone.com.

Born and raised in Pittsburgh, Ed ROBERSON studied painting in his youth and was educated at the University of Pittsburgh. His extensive travels inform his work,which is also influenced by spirituals and the blues, and by visual art, such as the mixed-media collages of Romare Beardon. Poet and critic Michael Palmer has called Roberson “one of the most deeply innovative and critically acute voices of our time.” Roberson is the author of numerous books of poetry, including City Eclogue (2006), Atmosphere Conditions (1999), which was chosen by Nathaniel Mackey for the National Poetry Series and was a finalist for the Academy of American Poets’ Lenore Marshall Award, and Voices Cast Out to Talk Us In (1995), which won the Iowa Poetry Prize. Words and phrases in Roberson’s experimental poetry actively resist parsing, using instead what Mackey has called “double-jointed syntax” to explore and bend themes of race, history, and culture. “I’m not creating a new language. I’m just trying to un-White-Out the one we’ve got,” said Roberson in a 2006 interview with Chicago Postmodern Poetry. Roberson’s honors include the Lila Wallace Writers’ Award and the Poetry Society of America’s Shelley Award. His work has been included in Best American Poetry. Roberson lives in Chicago, where he has taught at the University of Chicago, Columbia College and Northwestern University.

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ROCKPILE @ HIDEOUT: A CELEBRATION OF THE TRADITION OF POETRY & JAZZ IN THE CITY OF CHICAGO. FROM THE FIRST STORIES OF KENNETH REXROTH READING HIS WORK WITH MUSICAL ACCOMPANIMENT BY JELLY ROLL MORTON, JAZZ & POETRY HAVE ENJOYED A SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP. THIS NIGHT OF POETRY & JAZZ WITH DAVID MELTZER, MICHAEL ROTHENBERG, SPIDER TRIO & SPECIAL GUESTS WILL CERTAINLY BE A NIGHT TO REMEMBER. HIDEOUT INCLUDES A FULL BAR AND HEMP CANDY BARS WILL SERVED. DOORS OPEN AT 7:30. $8 COVER.

FOR THE FULL SCHEDULE CHECK Hideoutchicago.com .

2009-03-17T11:44:00.000-07:00

Do I ever get tired of watching old jazz clips? A final ruling on this is expected this summer.

Artistry

2008-12-23T10:20:00.000-08:00

Art Pepper's D Section (recorded just after he was released from San Quentin in 1964) shows that at this time in his career Art was strictly business. I love how his solos are never muddy or superfluous and always build in intensity--nothing is extraneous and it all serves the larger purpose of the tune. That's artistry.

Thanks to YouTube once again for another nice clip I'd never noticed until this morning--Happy Holidays.

2008-12-08T08:42:00.000-08:00

Art Lange on Anthony Braxton.

William Claxton, RIP

2008-10-13T14:17:00.000-07:00

(Jazz) photographer William Claxton has died.

Fake Authenticity

2008-08-14T08:14:00.000-07:00

...Hey, Johnny, what are you rebelling against?

...What’ve you got?

—Marlon Brando, The Wild One (1958)

“In a period when the youthful innovations of rock and roll were in the ascendant, it is fascinating to observe the continuing popularity of jazz on both the large and small screens, belying any comfortably linear history of popular music that regards the advent of rock and roll as a decisive historical break, in which jazz is finally and categorically displaced from the category of ‘popular’ at a point in the mid-1950s—a perspective fuelled by movies such as The Blackboard Jungle (1955) which featured Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock” on its soundtrack and, in a telling transitional ‘moment,’ presented the smashing of a teacher’s prized jazz record collection by leather-jacketed punks as the ultimate act of rock and roll rebellion.”
___________

Alan Stanbridge of University of Toronto raises some interesting points in his essay and made me think of the intersection of jazz music and its successor in pop culture ... rock 'n roll.

Stanbridge's provocative spiel had me thinking about English blues singer Amy Winehouse, for some reason, and the fascination we as a society seem to have with rebellion. Does the fascination with blues singer Winehouse’s public descent into addiction represent the unconscious fetishization of an archetypal period in jazz history? The rock ‘n roll youth of the 1950s couldn’t identify with jazz as the more cerebral side of the latter became much more evident. These days the somewhat talented, who also represent anti-authoritarian currents in our society, are raised to absurd levels of notoriety because the sheer inertia of these societal trends is unstoppable. Singers like Winehouse (or in a bygone day musicians like Keith Richards) represent a genuinely dark side of mainstream music—an easily consumed brand of rebellion. Rebellion is easy to understand. Everyone can relate to frustration. Everyone wants acceptance and attention. (After Miles Davis had capitalized on Cool Jazz, he nearly single-handedly invented another new genre, Fusion, after snuggling up to the playing of Jimi Hendrix. On a certain level, Davis craved acceptance, and his move toward a more loose and funky sound, after the tight experiments of the album Bitches Brew, was designed to appeal to the masses, not to critics and intellectuals. Davis craved a little understanding, because he won over the critics years previous and winning over the people marked a challenge for him and his work.) The lure of acceptance by the masses is sometimes too strong to be ignored and otherwise innovative artists become self-imitators as a result. Winehouse doesn't seem to be imitating herself just yet, but she's making a career of mediocrity. Think about Billie Holiday (1915-1959).

Billie Holiday's art wasn't considered esoteric in the time when she was alive, because jazz was extremely visible in the 1940s and 1950s. That's not to say it was socially acceptable.

The spotlight always shines brightest on works that define the next wave of artistic innovation. Works firmly entrenched in a pre-existing and long-standing order, although displaying technical or conceptual virtuosity, often receive far less press than the works that mark the cusp of two genres. Amy Winehouse can sing, but she ain’t no Billie Holiday and she may never be. Unresolved social issues that are in constant need of exploration aren’t being addressed by most contemporary pop artists. Winehouse is “outside” the mainstream because of her lifestyle, so she could delve into particularly difficult subject matter unscathed if she so chooses. Winehouse acts like a derelict, which gets her a lot of attention, but she sells out her own talent by not taking it farther. The content is lacking, because ultimately she’s only interested in herself and her consumption. Compare her work and its “message” to seminal tunes like Strange Fruit as sung by Holiday. After the monumental message of the song’s lyrics (written by Abel Meeropol) hits home for the first time it’s indelible. Artists like Winehouse revel in their addictions, which is sad but telling. The irony is that our consumerist tendencies value an authentic fake nearly as much as the original: at least in the short term.

Using addiction as a marketing tool for music is what Winehouse’s tabloid nonsense really advertises. Whether she’s aware of that is another matter, but the main ingredients missing, despite her solid voice, are grace and compassion. Holiday leapt the crushing hurdles of racism and addiction and achieved the highest levels of musicianship while Winehouse gleefully wallows in a cliché.

2008-07-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

Wayne Shorter in a vintage clip laying down some jazz goodness.

2008-04-06T19:03:00.000-07:00

It's a little strange to see this Sonny Rollins footage mainly because he's stuck on a variety show attempting to play the crowd pleaser, but rather reluctantly. The other thing that seemed to draw my attention was the difference between Rollins with his crisp delivery and the somewhat slack soloing by Don Cherry, an otherwise brilliant improviser. These two paired offer a glimpse at the subtle chasm that existed between those who became more known as free players and those who relied more on harmonic structure and were more a part of the previous well-established tradition--bebop.

Klactoveesedstene

2008-04-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

My friend, the poet Steve Halle, asked me via e-mail the other day about Ornette Coleman’s album “Sound Grammar,” and I remember hearing bits and pieces of it online a while ago. It’s a great album, but I found myself really thinking about it again because of Steve’s comment, so I dug around online a bit and stumbled upon this Slate article that raises an even larger question. I really like this article (sure it’s a little dusty but who cares) because of its embedded links. Putting these two riffs side by side is genius (one of Charlie Parker laying down a long solo in the song “Klactoveesedstene” and Ornette Coleman playing nearly the same but in his unique way). [Here’s an interesting side note found on a Portuguese jazz blog about theories as to what “Klactoveesedstene” might mean.]

Listening to both shows how different Ornette’s sound is, even in 1958. Not being a musician I can’t define it in musical terms, but I’ve always thought that Ornette’s solos seem to spread out instead of building. Ornette uses sound in a really nonlinear way, and not to just fill space in a song. His solos don’t rise to crescendo or logically unfold, they burst forth in rivulets—fits and starts. It’s obvious that the journey itself is the destination. One reason that Ornette doesn’t often play with pianists in his combos could be that the piano, as defined in those rough terms, is limiting to a certain extent. There are spaces between the keys on a piano whereas the saxophone is a much more liquid instrument. Even so, Ornette paired with a player like Thelonious Monk would seem to make sense, but Monk’s playing was also much more angular and structured, though in an offbeat way.

I'd never seen the above photo of Charlie Parker before, so I thought I'd post it.

2008-04-02T13:56:00.000-07:00

In other news, Stop Smiling has put out a relatively recent, jazz-theme issue and I've just found out that the headliners at the 2008 Chicago Jazz Festival are Sonny Rollins and Ornette Coleman. Thank you, Chicago!

2008-04-02T12:57:00.000-07:00

Yakov Lotovski's The Sound of Jazz translated from Russian by Dimitri Lotovski at Exquisite Corpse has some interesting imagery.

"There is also this huge saxophone.
It sounds like a piece of antique oak furniture that’s being moved.
There is a man attached to it.
Serving."

Much "jazz poetry" doesn't fit the bill. In the sense that Vachel Lindsay, Carl Sandburg, Mina Loy, or Hart Crane could be considered "jazz" poets because they made reference to it in their work, which isn't the same as producing work that enacts the rhythms being described or uses imagery that evokes convincing portrayals of jazz artists and their compositions, we'll have to come up with a more useful definition. Many writers of the Jazz Age (i.e., 1920s) wrote about the decadence or instability of the times but their writing wasn't jazz influenced per se. True poets influenced by jazz take language and make of it something malleable and molten. Poets such as Amiri Baraka in "Ka'Ba"

call across or scream or walk across
defying physics in the stream of their will[.]

Ray Bremser, Jack Kerouac, and Ted Joans wrote poetry with an oral component that sometimes mirrored the syncopated rhythms of jazz. Poets such as Bob Kaufman often wrote lines that verged on the nonsensical in his flights to mimic the sounds he heard in jazz. In the experimental "Crootey Songo" he wrote,

Derrat slegelations, flo goof babereo
Sorash sho dubies, wago, wailo, wailo

Or, as he wrote in "Jazz Chick"

From the alabaster pools of Jazz
Where music cools hot souls.
Eyes more articulately silent
Than Medusa's thousand tongues.
A bridge of eyes, consenting smiles
reveal her presence singing[.]

The Sopranos

2008-02-21T11:12:00.000-08:00

I hate to keep tapping into the old-school (wait a minute, no I don’t) but one of the defining moments of my experiences as a jazz listener is the first time I heard a recording of Coltrane playing “My Favorite Things.” Beyond the virtuosity of his treatment of the tune, I was intrigued, too, by the instrument he played. I’d heard recordings of way-out musicians like Yusef Lateef playing oddball instruments like the oboe, shenai, and argol (check out the Impulse! recording Yusef Lateef Live at Pep’s from the 1960s), but hearing Coltrane play the soprano sax on “My Favorite Things” added to its mystique. (to be continued)

Coyote

2008-02-17T07:51:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite films is Martin Scorcese’s The Last Waltz. If you’ve never seen this film run don’t walk to your video store or else put it into your Netflix queue. After 16 years of touring, The Band (Rick Danko, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel, Robbie Robertson) decided to film a final appearance in 1976 on Thanksgiving Day with friends including Dr. John, Neil Young, Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton, Van Morrison, Bob Dylan, Ringo Starr, Ron Wood, and Joni Mitchell. As one of Scorcese’s finest films, in a career of masterpieces, The Last Waltz is one of the more interesting music documentaries of all time. Others in that list would have to include Thelonious Monk: Straight No Chaser, Don’t Look Back, The Filth and the Fury, Gimme Shelter, Wild Man Blues, Buena Vista Social Club, Jazz on a Summer’s Day, and Monterey Pop. The performances of Dr. John and Joni Mitchell show how jazz music seeped into the rock world and became another ingredient in the gumbo that the music of New Orleans became. Joni Mitchell’s offbeat, and sometimes improvised, singing style and Dr. John’s performance especially are proof of jazz music’s subtle influence. Joni Mitchell isn't a jazz artist per se, but it's interesting to see the way she handles the vocals to her song, Coyote. I've always loved her lyrics, too.

No regrets Coyote
We just come from such different sets of circumstance
I'm up all night in the studios
And you're up early on your ranch
You'll be brushing out a brood mare's tail
While the sun is ascending
And I'll just be getting home with my reel to reel...
There's no comprehending
Just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes
And the lips you can get
And still feel so alone
And still feel related
Like stations in some relay
You're not a hit and run driver, no, no
Racing away
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

We saw a farmhouse burning down
In the middle of nowhere
In the middle of the night
And we rolled right past that tragedy
Till we turned into some road house lights
Where a local band was playing
Locals were up kicking and shaking on the floor
And the next thing I know
That Coyote's at my door
He pins me in a corner and he won't take "No!"
He drags me out on the dance floor
And we're dancing close and slow
Now he's got a woman at home
He's got another woman down the hall
He seems to want me anyway
Why'd you have to get so drunk
And lead me on that way
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines of the freeway

I looked a Coyote right in the face
On the road to Baljennie near my old home town
He went running thru the whisker wheat
Chasing some prize down
And a hawk was playing with him
Coyote was jumping straight up and making passes
He had those same eyes - just like yours
Under your dark glasses
Privately probing the public rooms
And peeking thru keyholes in numbered doors
Where the players lick their wounds
And take their temporary lovers
And their pills and powders to get them thru this passion play

No regrets, Coyote
I just get off up aways
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

Coyote's in the coffee shop
He's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs
He picks up my scent on his fingers
While he's watching the waitresses' legs
He's too fat from the Bay of Fundy
From Appaloosas and Eagles and tides
And the air conditioned cubicles
And the carbon ribbon rides
Are spelling it out so clear
Either he's going to have to stand and fight
Or take off out of here
I tried to run away myself
To run away and wrestle with my ego
And with this flame
You put here in this Eskimo
In this hitcher
In this prisoner
Of the fine white lines
Of the white lines on the free, free way

2008-02-10T13:51:00.000-08:00

Piero Scaruffi's jazz pages are worth a glance.

ESP

2008-02-09T12:02:00.000-08:00

I had to listen to some early Miles Davis this morning. By 1957 when Miles Davis started working with Gil Evans on an album called Miles Ahead for Columbia Records, he’d already had an amazing career working with some of the best artists in the business including Charlie Parker and Lester Young—the two men most responsible for shaping modern jazz and taking it places that Louis Armstrong never envisioned. The Miles Ahead sessions included an army of talent with Johnny Carisi, Bernie Glow, Taft Jordan, Louis Mucci, Ernie Royal, Miles Davis, Joe Bennett, Jimmy Cleveland, Frank Rehak, Tom Mitchell, Jim Buffington, Tony Miranda, Willie Ruff, Bill Barber, Edwin Caine, Sid Cooper, Romeo Penque, Danny Bank, Lee Konitz, Paul Chambers, Art Taylor, and of course Evans as arranger and conductor. All of this is old news, but I still like to think of this moment in the history of the music because Davis was set to embark on an excursion as important as the discovery of flight.

The Miles in the Sky sessions though are some of my favorites with Wayne Shorter (ts) Herbie Hancock (p), George Benson (el-g -3), Ron Carter (b), and Tony Williams (d) recorded at Columbia Studios in New York in 1968. I like this line-up even better than the John Coltrane mix, because Miles seems to be at his reflective best. It may be that Coltrane put him on the edge and Shorter, Hancock, Carter, and Williams allowed Miles to dig deeper into introspection because there isn’t the sense there that Davis may be overshadowed by the talent in his own band, which seemed to be the case when John Coltrane stepped up to the mic.

When I think of the Miles Davis records, tapes, and Cds I’ve owned over the years, like Kind of Blue, Bitches Brew, On the Corner, Birth of the Cool, ESP, Workin’, Sorcerer, Nefertiti, Miles in the Sky, In a Silent Way and others I’m still in awe of his output and ability to break with tradition and redefine the zeitgeist—-owning it entirely, and then throwing it back at the world and inventing new genres with such laconic gestures.

Later in his career Miles still cut groundbreaking tunes with the likes of Keith Jarrett, Herbie Hancock, John McLaughlin, and Chick Corea but it started to become obvious that R&B and rock music had cast a spell on Davis that affected his entire conception of the music. He became much more interested in jamming and much less interested in breaking new ground on a technical level. This later music sold records but didn’t satisfy many of the critics, who rightly saw that some of Davis’s new soupy concoctions were barely jazz. For whatever reason, Davis never really grasped the burgeoning free jazz phenomenon and dove straight into funk, which ironically downplayed his abilities and left a bad taste in the mouths of many listeners that lingers even still. Davis also became such a cultural icon and scenester that this aspect of his personality obscured some of his earlier musical achievements. When taken in its entirety though, it’s easy to see that the Miles Davis discography is an amazing EKG of the Twentieth Century.

Also, an interesting read: Charlie Haden on Mingus, Miles, and what jazz means.

Open Country

2008-01-20T08:12:00.001-08:00

After Ornette Coleman played one of his first big gigs in New York, bop drummer Max Roach met him after the performance and punched him in the face. At least that’s how the story goes. Coleman made huge strides in jazz but with a price. Those with a long view of the history of jazz might notice that this story is somewhat similar to the anecdote involving Louis Armstrong and Dizzy Gillespie. Once when asked about the new music, bop, as it was just entering the public consciousness, Armstrong quipped that he didn’t have a lot of interest in “Chinese music.”

The album to me that defines the innovation made by Coleman more than many others is the Blue Note album “The Ornette Coleman Trio Live at the Golden Circle Stockholm” recorded the nights of December 3rd and 4th 1965 in the Gyllene Cirkeln club in Stockholm, Sweden. Moreso than albums like “Free Jazz” where Coleman “competes” with the sounds of so many other improvisers, with “Golden Circle” he’s really out on a limb almost entirely on his own. The experiment, as a trio, is sink or swim when the stakes are raised. Coleman’s Dizzy—Don Cherry—who often served as a creative foil for Coleman (although Cherry on pocket trumpet was a million-dollar improviser in his own right), is noticeably absent in this live session. Especially on the tune “Faces and Places” the listener is confronted with the sound of Coleman’s horn and the sound of a single cymbal keeping frenetic time and nothing else. Coleman shines through in this song and the intensity rises until he reaches a creative high water mark, then the storm passes and after restating the opening the song levels out and ends. That song single handedly illustrates more than many other avant numbers exactly why free jazz is so unlike the styles that preceded it. Simplicity and a certain minimalism allow the listener to focus on how Coleman still swings as he detonates the entire jazz pantheon with a shrug. Coleman, it should be mentioned, never stated that he held any animosity toward those who kept playing more trad jazz even throughout the 1960s, when so many innovators were taking over.

Some would immediately claim that Coleman does without harmonic structure (he mostly does without even the modal structures that the post-bop players found as their liberating force) because he simply couldn’t master the nuances of such music, so was forced to move into atonal territory. Somehow that argument is similar to an observer implying that Picasso didn’t paint like Rembrandt because he was unable to. Coleman and the more trad players are merely speaking two separate languages—equally valid. Coleman’s discoveries don’t necessarily refute the groundwork laid by Lester Young. Without the support of harmonic structure, the “Faces and Places” amazes by sheer rhythmic brilliance and force of will. Although Coleman does indulge in a chorus or two, beyond that it’s a no man’s land of wide-open country. This probably proved frightening to some listeners when they first heard it. More than just playing with the net down, Coleman plays world-class tennis with no net—and in zero gravity.

Have a look at this list of 100 Best Jazz Drummers. I'm a fan of lists like this. Is Chico Hamilton even there? That's not right. I think Ed Blackwell should definitely be in the top ten, too.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

2008-01-13T07:54:00.000-08:00

The music of the Beatles has been covered ad nauseam but the version of “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” played here by guitarist Marc Ribot is really worth a listen. Ribot somehow makes the listener forget that he or she is hearing a Beatles classic because of all the harmonic rivulets he discovers inside each phrase of the original.

Also, try to catch the new Albert Ayler film if you can. If the goal of being a musician is originality, Ayler did that better than most. Ayler’s music is symphonic noise and an acquired taste, sure. But you’ll never hear anything else like it.

Prez

2008-01-11T07:51:00.000-08:00

Eric Dolphy was so outside he had a cot set up out there and probably a magazine rack, too. I’m listening to Eric Dolphy and Booker Little’s “Ode to Charlie Parker” and meditating on the line of tradition that exists with jazz music. In the other arts, appropriation is not always made with reverence or respect for those who came before.

One of the admirable qualities of jazz music and musicians is that homage is usually paid where it’s due, whether in the middle of a solo as a musical aside, via song titles, or else in its most malleable form—its spirit. Most jazz music is a continuation. My meaning doesn’t extend to mimicry, however. Copping someone else’s style in jazz is the cardinal sin. Musical asides in the midst of a solo can serve to acknowledge many things. Respect would be the first reason for a soloist to break into a few recognizable bars of someone else’s tune, but soloists also name-check other musicians in the middle of a solo for comic effect or as an inside joke. Sometimes a few bars of someone else’s solo inserted in a strategic way also provides a counterpoint to the ingenuity and skill being demonstrated. When a soloist like Dolphy was on the stand, however, he would rarely make an acknowledgment to another player within a song. He was far too original to spend even a moment walking in another man’s shoes.

Most callouts made by jazz soloists are the realm of the bluesy crowd-pleaser, though. Avant-gardists would find it outré. The free-flights of Dolphy, Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, and Marion Brown wouldn’t have been possible without the likes of Lester Young and Coleman Hawkins.

RIP Oscar Peterson

2007-12-28T13:01:00.000-08:00

Oscar Peterson has passed. My Verve LP "Very Tall" stands out (and up) as one of the most listenable LPs I own. Milt Jackson's accompaniment to Peterson's elegant, staccato ballads really grow on the listener. Peterson was tall indeed. He was one of the world's most influential pianists.

Paco

2007-11-16T12:03:00.000-08:00

Some of my favorite guitarists are John McLaughlin, Gabor Szabo, Django Rheinhardt, and Paco de Lucia. Paco holds particular sway over my interests because somehow, even more than Django, his playing strikes such a chord (I know) with my aesthetic sensibilities. Paco's playing represents the best combination of intellect and emotion.

Paco's blinding speed on the classical guitar is unparalleled and he is a master of rasgueados and picados.

2007-10-12T09:18:00.000-07:00

The pictorial history of jazz is nearly as interesting as the music itself. Photographers such as William Gottlieb captured enduring, iconic images. One of my favorite jazz photos is the series he shot of Monk in front of Minton’s Playhouse with his band. Photographers such as Gjon Mili, William Claxton, Dennis Stock, Frank Wolff, Herman Leonard, Carole Reiff, Val Wilmer, and Jim Marshall document/ed the phenomenon of jazz music with images like none other.

Gordon Parks in the photo above captured this once-in-a-lifetime visual metaphor that shows the Duke swimming in the lens of Billy Strayhorn's shades.

2007-10-07T09:28:00.000-07:00

I think you need to listen to more Albert Ayler.

RIP Joe Zawinul

2007-09-11T09:31:00.000-07:00

"'He lives on,' Erich Zawinul was quoted as saying. Zawinul played with Maynard Ferguson and Dinah Washington before joining alto saxophonist great Cannonball Adderley in 1961 for nine years, according to a biography on his Web site. With Adderley, Zawinul wrote several important songs, among them the slow and funky hit 'Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.' Zawinul then moved on to a brief collaboration with Miles Davis, at the time Davis was moving into the electric arena."
―AP News

RIP Max Roach

2007-08-19T11:30:00.000-07:00

Max Roach's snare drum was just the right punctuation for greats like Thelonious Monk and Dizzy Gillespie. No percussionist could sing through their drums quite like Max Roach. Roach, along with Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Bud Powell, and Charlie Mingus played on Jazz At Massey Hall, a live recording from 1953 which is considered the greatest live jazz recording ever.

He has always been one of my favorite drummers as well as Elvin Jones. Roach was instrumental to the formation of bebop. He was the dean of jazz drummers.

Roach also provided the beats for the groundbreaking Birth of the Cool sessions.

Un Poco Loco

2007-08-07T17:01:00.000-07:00

If there ever was a soundtrack to the creative impulse it is Un Poco Loco by Bud Powell. Moreso than any Monk tune I can think of Un Poco Loco is a question that Powell is asking of the audience. He is on the precipice of something and looking down and then back at those who aren't quite as far out on the ledge. In fact, my Blue Note pressing of The Amazing Bud Powell Vol. 1 (a stellar lineup that includes Fats Navarro, Sonny Rollins, Roy Haynes, and Max Roach) includes three takes of Un Poco Loco as if this track could never really be finished. It is eternally open, as if Powell has recorded evidence of the process of composition itself. The chorus almost sounds to me like the hum and buzz of a city street or thoroughfare possibly New York and the refrain seems like punctuation that defines some normal state of affairs, i.e., business as usual, but each solo is more than just a counterpoint to that. It's almost as if Powell has slipped between the cracks and has penned a plaintive S.O.S. He sets up each solo with a fairly pedestrian run up and down the ivories and then proceeds to dissect that normalcy into oblivion. It is a lesson in abstraction that is nearly insane in its mathematical precision.

This tune is an island and Powell's right hand is the only cat on it. His left hand is relentless as it sets up the rhythm that serves as the backbone of the composition. Max Roach's manic cowbell is the perfect counterpoint to Powell's blues experiment and the entire assemblage has a life of its own that is hypnotizing. Powell's solo trails off as Roach takes over and then the final chorus reminds us how far from the everyday Powell's solo really was.

Bud Powell had a well known rivalry with none other than Charlie Parker. His sometimes public anger at Parker's talent probably fueled his creative verve. Powell was so driven to succeed that his creative frustrations landed him in the psych ward where he endured electroconvulsive therapy, which ultimately did nothing to free him from the wrath of his creative demons. Powell was a master composer who was integral to the development of what would eventually be called bebop. His tune, Bouncing with Bud, is a standard and beyond that Un Poco Loco, Dance of the Infidels, and Tempus Fugit serve as a reminder of his genius. Unlike many jazz artists of the time, Powell was not known to have been addicted to drugs and he shied away from hard alcohol because it had a bizzarre effect on him. So on many levels the man was a true natural. Perhaps the only other pianist who could match his virtuosity on the ivory ledge was Art Tatum.

Bitches Brew

2007-07-25T20:33:00.000-07:00

One of the most famous, if not notorious, jazz releases, Bitches Brew still captivates and resonates despite the muddy moments that serve as the mortar between the solid bricks of brilliance. Recorded in 1969 immediately following the Woodstock Music Festival, Bitches Brew was, at the time, a line that many jazz fans refused to cross. In the years between then and now so many brilliant free compositions have been recorded that by comparison the case could be somehow made that Brew is nearly a hippy anachronism. But there's still nothing like throwing it on the turntable when one hasn't heard it in a few years. It doesn't erupt like some recordings, but builds in intensity like a spell taking effect. The whole album has a liquid consistency that ebbs and flows--the impulse to fast forward at times to another Miles solo should be resisted. Trust me. Repeated listenings are rewarded when the album is listened to as intended. That's its charm and Brew isn't really appreciated unless the listener fully submits to its onslaught. It's maximalism at its finest. Davis, as you must remember, had by the year 1969 already invented two other styles--cool and modal jazz. It would be ridiculous to fault him for the nebulous qualities of this seminal classic. All the sidemen on these classic sides would go on to cement their reputations after this shining moment. Wayne Shorter and Joe Zawinul would later form Weather Report, Chick Corea would later form Return to Forever with a lineup that would later include drummer Lenny White and guitarist John McLaughlin and Billy Cobham would later form Mahavishnu Orchestra. All told Bitches Brew still stands the test of time. It's still a monster, even if it's not quite as scary as it once seemed. Listen to it in one sitting and tell me it doesn't rock.

Nu Yorica!

2007-07-18T20:29:00.000-07:00

Soul Jazz Records London released an album ten or so years ago called Nu Yorica! that still percolates like a Cuban street festival and a Seventies movie soundtrack (in a good way) on a perfect summer night. Pick it up or order it if you can find it. It's funky goodness that doesn't let up. Mostly synth and vibe grooves with sax and an incredible conga section. Every so often an electric guitar or two take things in an entirely different direction with some light, nearly psychedelic flavors. Along with Sao Paulo Underground, these are some of my favorite grooves lately.

2007-07-17T05:08:00.000-07:00

The Girl from Impanema

2007-07-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

I've never been a cheerleader for the idea of unity or simplicity in art. Most of the art I appreciate is inchoate, incomplete, complex, and unfinished. Sometimes, simplicity in music, however, gives a song an ethereal and haunting quality that is unforgettable. Written in 1962, with music by Antonio Carlos Jobim and Portuguese lyrics by Vinicius de Moraes, The Girl from Impanema has the haunting and lyrical quality that is the hallmark of the enduring jazz standard. When this song was performed by Astrud Gilberto, along with João Gilberto and Stan Getz, in 1963 on the Gilberto/Getz album of that name it became an international phenomenon that has been rerecorded and covered by countless artists since. I was talking to my friend Steve Halle last night about the Sao Paulo Underground album Sauna, Um, Dois, Tres and how Brazil has made such an impact on the jazz music scene over the years most notably in the hands of artists like Dizzy Gillespie and Getz. Gillespie's brand of bossa nova and samba always felt more genuine to this listener than Getz's version, although this classic cut is unforgettable. Legend has that the seemingly sanguine and docile Getz was furious at the idea that Gilberto brought his lady into the studio to sing this cut and threw a huge tantrum. Getz notoriously had a temper that didn't fit his saccharine appearance, but when he heard Astrud Gilberto lay down a few takes he was bewitched by her voice and slowly began to realize that he and his buddy Gilberto had a huge coup on their hands. They were right. Like all great jazz songs there's even an interesting backstory. The songwriters had a specific beauty named Heloísa Eneida Menezes Paes Pinto in mind when they wrote this love bomb. As a 15-year-old girl Pinto would saunter pass the cafe where the songwriters would have their morning coffee. At nearly six feet tall, with long dark hair and green eyes, she obviously made some sort of impression on them. This video is pretty silly. It makes me think of White Christmas or something, but the melody is indelible.

Regathering the Storm

2007-07-14T08:53:00.000-07:00

At what point does admiration become obsession? Jazz artists used to be known for woodsheddin’. Woodsheddin’ meant disappearing in the woods for months at a time, sometimes to kick a habit, but most often because the creative impulse drove these artists into isolation in order for them to master their art. Sonny Rollins spent nearly a year playing sax beneath the Brooklyn Bridge alone because there was an idea stuck inside him. What came out was eventually released as his album “The Bridge.” Jazz trumpeter Wallace Roney, seen here playing Miles Davis’s trumpet has a tone so clear and cold I get lost in such a kaleidoscope of memories when I hear it. One imagines that Roney spent quite a few hours woodsheddin' to reach that level of brilliance. He’s more of an extrovert on his instrument than Davis was, but only slightly so. His tone is reminiscent of Davis but with a few shades of darkness less. His timing is flawless and he’s able to hit the upper registers on par with the likes of Freddie Hubbard. When I saw him I was transported completely. His solos took me back to a trip to Greece I made a few years ago … I listened to him crank out those solos while watching the sunset on the island of Santorini and nothing could’ve been more sweet. He’s derivative in a completely positive way—if such a thing is possible. I’m no reactionary, but Roney’s melodic game forces the listener to listen even more closely because it’s so very obvious that he’s carrying forth the torch for future generations. Get some respect. That’s why Miles gave him “the horn.” This clip with Tony Williams on drums could almost be viewed as an attempt by Williams to regather the storm that was Miles Davis, but it's so much more than that. The history of jazz is the history of America. Williams in this clip is simply opening the book to another mysterious chapter.

This list of top sax greats is nearly right. Ornette should definitely be in the top ten, however. Ornette’s brand of innovation only comes once or twice with every generation. Stan Getz shouldn’t be on this list even. I’m glad to see Jackie McLean and Gary Bartz included, they’re routinely left off of lists of this type. And Paul Desmond, whose sound was once described as the sound of a very dry martini, is far too high up the hierarchy here. Although he was known for his sweet delivery, he never had enough down-home funk for this listener. Desmond was once awarded a prize for quietness. That seems to me to be the opposite of what a jazz sax player should strive for. If I want lyricism I’d rather get it from Joe Henderson or Cannonball Adderley.

Blues, West End

2007-07-04T18:14:00.000-07:00

"West End Blues" was, from what I remember, burned on a solid gold disc by NASA and sent out into space as a represention of the heights of human achievement. Louis Armstrong was the first jazz artist to push the jazz solo into the stratosphere. His solo near the end of "West End Blues" is pure gravy.

Cedar Walton Defends the Faith

2007-07-02T19:22:00.000-07:00

This is a review I wrote of seeing Cedar Walton at a venue called Gilly's in Dayton, Ohio.

********************

Jazz was alive and well at Gilly’s last Sunday night. Legendary jazz pianist Cedar Walton made sure of that by playing two seamless sets that brought the spirit of jazz alive, with an intimate concert that left this listener with the feeling that hope hasn’t entirely left the Gem City. I walked into the club expecting nothing less than jazz nirvana, having attended concerts at this prime venue for jazz on many past occasions. Wallace Roney, Gary Bartz, the late, great, Kenny Kirkland, Joshua Redman, and many others have made me a Gilly’s believer. Club owner Gerry Gillotti has made Gilly’s a jazz oasis.
The question of where jazz is “going” has created much controversy recently. I do not mean the local WYSO controversy. One Gilly's patron described WYSO's new format, which omits jazz, Sunday night as nothing but “pure evil.” WYSO, as most of you already know, decided that jazz, America’s only indigenous musical art form, is no longer marketable. This is a genuine tragedy for the Dayton area. I, for one, stayed up late nights listening in over the years. In fact, WYSO introduced me to quite a few talents I had not known about until they came crashing through my stereo speakers from their sorely missed home on the airwaves of the now infamous Yellow Springs, radio station. I think about the would-be jazz listener out there who can no longer get the "message" of jazz on the radio. Sure, that listener might be able to download jazz or pay a visit to a local record shop and get the same effect. But gone are the days when the "story" of jazz is presented locally and free. The sensibilities of jazz kingpins like John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, and Miles Davis was benefited by WYSO's knowledgeable, volunteer DJs, who knowingly gave their valuable time to bring real-life liner notes alive via the airwaves. The sad, glaring fact is that American society seems to have lost touch with the pulse of its own living, breathing self, when it seems that the counterfeiters, namely practitioners of so-called "smooth" jazz, have taken over and the real stuff is now so hard to find.

Cedar Walton delivered the real stuff and then some with classic cuts such as "Cedar's Blues," which started things off in a post-bop style that left no room for guessing whether or not the man on the stand was all business. Elements of Bud Powell's style mingled with Walton's own so fluidly that the end result was far from derivative. Walton is a man who has paid his dues and comes from the holy land to spread the word like wildfire to the people. I should mention that the crowd went grooving and uh-huhing right along with Walton as he built a jazz palace with the down-tempo and beautiful "Dear Ruth;" an amazing medley-tribute to Billy Strayhorn that included "Lush Life," "Daydream," and "Raincheck;" and that's just mentioning the standouts. I must admit that my enthusiasm for jazz still leaves me a novice when I compare it with the knowledge I overheard in some cross-table conversation that night.

Sunday night I also learned that Chucho Valdés is coming to town, which is important to anyone who'd like to support the jazz community. He'll appear at the Dayton Art Institute's Renaissance Auditorium on Sunday, April 21. Don't miss him. Chucho Valdés is le jazz hot, where Walton was cool as the Absolut and cranberry juice I was drinking. When Walton's second set kicked in, I must admit I was getting tired and thought to myself that it would be hard for him to sustain that energy level all night. I wasn't wrong. Walton didn't attempt to sustain an energy level because he had nothing to prove. This is the point and the lesson he taught. Real perfection is effortless.

The second set started with "Little Sunflower," segued into "A Child Is Born" and moved into a funky Monk medley that took everything in an entirely different direction. Walton was sculpting a masterpiece out of thin air and I don't think he cared how many people were sitting in.

Whatever bad vibes left over in Dayton, after the recent assault on this, the most original and unique of all musical forms, were driven to dust by Walton's powerful, subtle performance Sunday night. As I walked out to enter the regular world, an old veteran by the door seemed to nod to me conspiratorially, as if to acknowledge that we'd both just had a rare glimpse of something we would never see again.

2007-06-29T20:26:00.000-07:00

I finally bought a turntable so I can listen to Evolution by Grachan Moncur III. Moncur and Jackie McLean chase each other on this album and listening to it confirms why McLean has always been one of my favorite sax players. He has a hard edge and honks and squeaks through solos with an off-kilter sense of rhythm that reminds me of the great eccentrics of jazz--namely Monk and Dolphy. Dolphy, Monk, McLean, Mingus, and possibly Tony Williams on drums would be a dream lineup.

Someone made the argument to me the other day that having an interest in, and knowledge of, jazz is similar to having a knowledge of baseball. The analogy works for me because great concerts, like great games, and dream lineups are what the fans talk about. I know the night that made a big impression on me was the night I saw Gary Bartz. At the time I hadn't heard of Bartz, but he blew the roof off the room that night and played a rendition of My Favorite Things on soprano sax that started as a whisper and ended up sounding like a volcano erupting--very Pharoah Sanders. Karma by Sanders is the one album I still haven't really learned to appreciate ... a friend of mine with impeccable musical taste used to listen to The Creator Has a Master Plan continuously, but I never really could perceive its virtues. It just seems like it has so many different sidemen all jamming. The result is a jazz puddle. Unlike Ornette's great Free Jazz that improves with repeated listenings, Karma sounds more mediocre with each listening. Maybe it's me.

Artifacts

2007-06-11T20:17:00.001-07:00

The Art Farmer album titled "Early Art" that I own sat in my record collection for about two years before I actually played it. What ended up being one of my favorite albums sat there gathering dust. I had recently discovered Miles Davis and bought Sketches of Spain, Kind of Blue, Bitches Brew, ESP, On the Corner, Cookin', Workin', Miles in the Sky, Miles Ahead, and various other Davis vinyl all at once because I couldn't get enough of listening to Miles singing through that trademark horn. I did see Wallace Roney one night playing it, and that was in itself worth the price of the ticket. But I didn't appreciate Art Farmer until later mainly because Farmer sometimes sounds nearly sentimental when compared with Davis. Nobody, with the exception perhaps of Clifford Brown, plays ballads and sentimental songs so well. Farmer can play intricate solos effortlessly and his sound is so light and airy that it's easy to sit through one of his solos without really concentrating on it very much. When Miles is playing his sound is perfect in its simplicity, but Farmer is creating geometric shapes in the air that are surprisingly complex. Miles's sound is dark to Art Farmer's light, but both are unique in their own ways. Farmer never enjoyed the level of success that Miles did but he deserves it. This is some footage of Gerry Mulligan and Art playing some aerial scrabble.

Ok, separate topic--this page has some of the coolest jazz album covers I've seen. One of my favorites is Jazz Experiments of Charlie Mingus, although I don't know if it's on there. Vintage Vinyl in Evanston had a copy for $100. Mine is slightly damaged though, so I really doubt it's worth that much.

A Love Supreme

2007-06-05T17:12:00.000-07:00

It's a relatively well-known tale that the medical examiner who first saw Charlie Parker's body after his death thought he was a 60-year-old man and not a man of 34 years of age. Bird was also known for often showing up to performances without a sax and borrowing someone else's at the last moment. On one particular occasion before a concert in Toronto, Bird and Diz frantically searched the city trying to find a saxophone. After scouring all the pawnshops open at the time, they were only able to find a plastic Grafton sax, which Parker proceeded to use at the concert that night. This concert is documented on the album "The Quintet, Live at Massey Hall". Bird, loaded and playing a plastic toy sax, was still pure magic. The album is now considered the greatest live jazz recording.

In the late 1950s, musicians would travel to Birdland in New York, spending their last dime, hitchhiking, hawking all their worldly possessions to catch a glimpse of Charlie Parker playing the solos that Louis Armstrong, the originator of the modern jazz solo, described as "Chinese music." Legend had it that Bird, Diz, Bud Powell, and Thelonious Monk, played fast and outside so that it would be impossible for white musicians to steal their licks.

Sometime later, a man named John Coltrane added his signature to the jazz pantheon. Later in life, Coltrane strived to accent the spiritual and avoided the pitfalls that claimed the lives of greats like Charlie Parker. There is even a Church of John Coltrane believe it or not. Coltrane took innovation to the edge, although some of his searching left the audience behind. This clip is really watchable. Here's some nice footage of drummer Elvin Jones, who was the driving force behind much of Coltrane's brilliance. You be the judge.

2007-05-29T20:05:00.001-07:00

Hubbard

2007-05-29T19:29:00.000-07:00

This is some fat Freddie Hubbard footage. I’m thinking this is very early 60s Jazz Messengers with Art Blakey, of course, on drums. Hubbard has always been one of my favorite trumpet players, behind Miles and Dizzy, and this first solo confirms that. He’s lightning fast but never sacrifices the groove for the sake of showing off. This song has some exemplary call-and-response that gives it the feel of an old spiritual. It’s too bad the clip is so short.

Pepesito Reyes

2007-05-25T05:08:00.000-07:00

Pepesito Reyes spent the 1940s in New York City playing clubs like the Café Metropolis, where he made fast friends with admirers like Duke Ellington. Of all jazz musicians, Ellington was usually the object of admiration, not vice versa. Reyes also bewitched musicians such as Nat King Cole and Tito Puente, when they first heard his bold blend of majestic, yet spicy danzón, or Cuban dance music. Reyes is a true romantic in the best sense of the word and dances musically on this album, with the accompaniment of a cavalcade of extremely capable musicians. Anibal Ávila and Adonis Machado especially, add trumpet flare to the compositions, and act as the perfect foil for Reyes as he positively jumps through each song with an energy and verve that belies his 85 years.

Cole Porter’s Begin the Beguine starts this disk, and this moody number does indeed seem to “bring back a night of tropical splendor,” as Reyes’ lyrical piano practically sings the words to the classic, jazz standard. Beatriz Márquez fades into Como Arrullo de Palmas like the diva you’ve always dreamed of and the intensity builds, by turns soft and elegant and then more forceful and upbeat. Escucha mi Piano finds Reyes indulging in flourishes and wisecracks that never seem out of place, as he stakes his claim, alongside Rubén González, as grandmaster of Cuban piano.

I can now add Mami Me Gustó to the list of things that I like, as this cut is the standout of the album. Sitting back and closing your eyes to this song brings a Cuban street party to life on a perfect summer day. Anibal Ávila and Adonis Machado make this song a mysterious trumpet masterpiece. Each cut, in fact, is a tiny, nostalgic gem, as Reyes riffs and moves to a crescendo toward La Guantanamera.

This song is so familiar (think hard and it will come to you) that kids on the playground used to hum its melody replacing the lyrics with nonsense words, as I remember. Of course, the real test of any art form is the test of time, and this CD is a nostalgic trip back to some, but to jazz aficionados Reyes’ sound is as unmistakable as a habanero on the tongue.

Cannonball

2007-05-20T07:58:00.000-07:00

Cannonball Adderley has always been one of my favorite sax players and this footage finds him beside the über-hip Yusef Lateef. Lateef’s Psychicemotus is one of my favorite jazz albums. My vinyl copy hasn’t seen the light of day in a few years.

I still haven’t bought a turntable [since moving to Chicago five years ago], so my vinyl collection is sitting in limbo. I know Impulse and Blue Note have reissued most of the classics on vinyl, but it’s a better feeling when a day spent going through the record bins results in finding an original pressing of something you’ve been searching for. This group alternated players during the same time period, so I think the other incarnation of Cannonball’s lineup included Victor Feldman (p, vib), Wes Montgomery (g), and Ray Brown (b) instead of those in the video.

There’s a lyrical quality to Cannonball’s solos that simultaneously hold the aloof phrasing of cool jazz but also an element of a sort-of musical sarcasm. Cannonball, in his solos, seems evasive. Its apparent that he has a musical depth that saves songs such as this from what might have seemed like a forgettable pop tune if it were played by lesser hands.

2007-05-16T17:19:00.001-07:00

Miles was it.

2007-05-14T20:20:00.000-07:00

Was Bud Powell the best bop pianist? Yes.

Let's Get Lost

2007-05-12T06:36:00.000-07:00

Of course, I wasn’t around when most of the great jazz was being played. Not to say that there isn’t a lot of great jazz being played right now, but jazz today exists on the foundation built by the giants. Chet Baker wasn’t a giant, but he was a solid trumpet player with a mystique about him that lives on to this day. From the clean-cut, good boy looks of his younger days, to the gnarled and haggard visage that stares out from the last few photos of him after the trouble that had been chasing finally caught him, Baker was one of those who defined West coast cool jazz with his laconic singing style and minimal playing.

2007-05-08T20:00:00.000-07:00

Coltrane footage is probably old news to jazz fans, but I can never get enough of watching Coltrane tell his story. Dolphy on this clip complements Coltrane's stuff perfectly. Too bad when I saw McCoy Tyner at Gilly's in Dayton, Ohio, he'd seemed to have lost his touch. The ballads he played that night were nice but not what I came to see.

Point of Departure

2007-05-08T19:43:00.000-07:00

Andrew Hill recently passed away. His album Point of Departure is worth a listen if you haven't heard that one. I originally bought it because I wanted to hear even more of Eric Dolphy, but I ended up appreciating Hill's sparse style. He is rather influenced by Monk to an obvious degree but his compositions usually seem less grouchy or funky than Monk's stuff. Hill's perspective is more cerebral and spacey, from what I remember, and my only criticism of what I ever heard by him was that some of what he wrote seemed nearly *too* formless. I was left hoping that his songs would start to groove a little more, even if only for a few bars. Dolphy on Point of Departure is his usual absolutely original self.

Speaking of Eric Dolphy, I did listen to my Eric Dolphy at the Five Spot again the other day. Dolphy paired with Mal Waldron I think is a better combination for whatever reason. I think Mal Waldron's meditative and somewhat repetitive musings are a needed counterpoint to Dolphy's wild pyrotechnics. And on the Five Spot recording you also get Eddie Blackwell and Richard Davis providing rhythm and you can't get better than that. I've always loved Blackwell playing alongside Ornette Coleman--they both had kind of an undercurrent of humor to what they did. Elvin Jones and Jimmy Garrison leap to mind as another great rhythm duo that provided a foundation for another legendary improviser. Coltrane was on a spiritual journey that was deadly serious, though.

The Duke

2007-05-06T09:14:00.000-07:00

Steve Halle’s comment to my Mingus post made me break out the Mingus box set, Thirteen Pictures, which I haven’t listened to in a while, to hear one song, Duke Ellington’s "Wig Wise." Ellington, Mingus, and Max Roach on drums make one of the best lineups for a trio ever. Ellington on "Wig Wise" plays as if he were Mario Andretti alone at the test track casually taking a new prototype Ferrari for a leisurely 200 mph first spin. There’s nothing to prove when the world has already been conquered. He only turns up the heat once in the entire song, as his first solo reaches a mild crescendo of self-assuredness and then Ellington slyly pulls back and retreats again into subtlety and wisdom. Mingus cleverly squeezes solos neatly inside his backbeat bass rhythms almost nearly at the same time that Duke is taking his own lush solos, and both must’ve been smiling at this interchange—a game of chess between mafia don and his number one hired gun. Three+ minutes of jazz perfection.

This morning I also felt like throwing on the ESP Milford Graves disc, You Never Heard Such Sounds In Your Life. ESP, the record label, has a stellar catalogue, and the story of ESP records is nearly as interesting as the list of artists they recorded. From 1964 to 1975 ESP issued many remarkable dates with jazz and folk artists, starting in '64 with the Albert Ayler side, Spiritual Unity. ESP avowed that they would record iconoclasts and let the artists decide what constituted a final take--ideas that seem even more avant-garde in light of today's music scene, where corporate interests have eclipsed what remained of artistic integrity. You Never Heard Such Sounds In Your Life, with Milford Graves and Sunny Morgan, is a certified gem because its multi-layered, waves of percussion are so rewarding after repeat listenings. It's one of the most unique discs I own because it's completely free of any influence other than the sounds that may be produced by percussive effects. Within the span of any given two minutes on this recording there are numerous percussive infinitesimals, which lead the listener down multiple sonic pathways--some are blind alleys, but the sum total of the effort is huge. ESP's catalog is amazing.

Rahsaan Roland Kirk

2007-05-04T21:30:00.000-07:00

Roland Kirk was an eccentric, even by jazz standards, who was capable of playing several instruments simultaneously. By using circular breathing he could sustain a single note indefinitely, and he had the finesse and technical ability to play simple melodies and complex multi-harmonic solos effortlessly. With the rough edges of a street musician, he was typecast early on as a player who relied on gimmicks to gain an audience. It took some time for critics to realize he was the real thing, although the musicians he played with had known it all along. The man was ran·dom.

Miles Smiles

2007-05-01T17:22:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this is what they're doing inside the YMCA. Sun Ra provides us with perhaps the most bizarre keyboard solo ever caught on tape. Half Parliament and half Duke Ellington, Sun Ra was wholly unique. His musicianship was incomparable and this video isn't the best representation of his capabilities, but I thought you may enjoy it.

Miles playing So What. Nothing needs to be said about this. It speaks for itself. From the very first note, Miles takes you back to school. He defined cool.

Mingus Ah Um

2007-05-01T04:53:00.000-07:00

When I think of the greatest jazz albums of all time I always have to think of Black Saint and the Sinner Lady. Mingus is my favorite bassist of all time--at least today. Ron Carter and Ray Brown are up there too. Black Saint and the Sinner Lady is a feast unlike any other jazz album. The moods swing from euphoria to despair and all points in between with bluesy beats, flamenco guitar, and heaps of soul. The album doesn't let up and the listener is transported to another place entirely. It's relentless, brilliant, and after repeated listenings just gets better with age.

2007-04-28T08:49:00.000-07:00

Eric Dolphy's album Out To Lunch is still one of the most exciting jazz albums ever recorded. I'm starting this new blog to celebrate what might be the very first warm day of the season here in Chicago. Out To Lunch is an all-out sonic assault, and on every cut Dolphy's caterwaul, at times, sounds nearly like a wounded animal. On Out To Lunch, Dolphy has taken the listener into the stratosphere and far from the comfortable and familiar territory explored by legends like Bix Beiderbecke and Frankie Trumbauer on classics like "Singin' the Blues." Out To Lunch shows the huge chasm between straight ahead jazz and outside jazz more than other classic avant albums like Ornette Coleman's The Shape of Jazz to Come, because Dolphy retains what he learned from playing with Charles Mingus, (i.e., free improvisation still needs some shred of a traditional rhythm section to serve as a homebase for all those intergalactic flights). Without this foundation, the players in any free jazz session are left without any real leader and the listener is left in the lurch, too. Think of some of the least successful moments on Free Jazz, the landmark album by the Ornette Coleman quartet. Although Dolphy shines throughout each cut on this particular jazz classic, there is something about his solos on Out To Lunch that seems to resonate on a much deeper level. If anyone is even reading what I'm writing here, I'll ask a few questions next. Jazz music provides the listener with reward, but it takes some effort. As America's only indigenous art form, jazz truly does necessitate appreciation and not passive enjoyment. Why is that such a turn off for many listeners? Players like Dolphy were especially misunderstood because their art took them places and they followed. Some might say they left the audience behind, but more importantly there are times when listening to the experimentation of greats like Dolphy, Ornette Coleman, or John Coltrane gives the listener something more complex and enjoyable than whatever listening to classic tracks like Beiderbecke's "Singin the Blues" might provide. Of course, this is just the tip of the syncopated iceberg and there are straight ahead players and free jazz players too numerous to name. Anyone interested in jazz should definitely listen to those mentioned, along with Sun Ra, Archie Shepp, Anthony Braxton, Cecil Taylor, and Marion Brown. But however your taste runs, if you're not listening to jazz, you really are Out To Lunch. Do some jazz homework. Download "Singin' the Blues," "Hat and Beard," off Out To Lunch, "West End Blues" by Louis Armstrong, and "Lonely Woman," by Ornette Coleman to see how far jazz has come. Who knows where jazz will be in the next twenty years? Wherever it lands it'll be unique, exciting, and completely American.

Thurston's free jazz top ten is worth a read, too. Check it out.