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

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

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.

Hubbard

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

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

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.

Miles was it.

Was Bud Powell the best bop pianist? Yes.

Let's Get Lost

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.