Sam Rivers: Contrasts

This great Sam Rivers album from 1979 has an apt title, for sure, and this adventurous (which is self-evident with ever-exploratory multi-instrumentalist) recording is also a contrast for the ECM label, not best known for its free jazz catalog.  

It is also brimming with sonic contrasts that are highly complementary thanks to the interplay between the leader and the remarkable George Lewis on trombone.  Meanwhile, the rhythm section is as tight and inventive as the horn players, with Dave Holland always superlative on bass and the totally underappreciated Thurman Barker on drums (love that solo on "Zip," for example).

The pieces themselves have a broad range of sounds, tempos, and structures with some being more ambient and amorphous and others really hitting hard and swinging.  So the transition from "Zip" to "Solace" is a perfect embodiment of the former being an up-tempo, fairly straight-ahead romp and the latter a beautiful and contemplative work, including Barker's excellent marimba work behind Rivers' sinuous soprano and Lewis' sympathetic trombone work.

Then, it's to "Verve" and Rivers playing a gorgeous flute with the rhythm team right there in perfect synchronicity, while Lewis, always mindful of mood and where bandmates are, does great work after the leader's turn.  "Dazzle" takes off from Rivers' tenor and Barker's rapid cymbal work and, indeed, dazzles when the others join in to display great inter-group dynamics.  Really, though, all of the seven tunes are superlative and Contrasts one of the many highlights in Rivers' lengthy and fascinating discography.

Sam Rivers: Fuchsia Swing Song

For this listener, Sam Rivers' many great albums from the early 1970s onward represent the best of his most daring, diverse and interesting compositions, but there is no denying the superb qualities of his debut, 1964's Fuchsia Swing Song.

It's amazing that Rivers was 41 before he cut this album at the end of that year, but at least he lived long enough to generate some really remarkable recordings.  He'd toured with Miles Davis in Japan during the summer, with young drummer Tony Williams encouraging Davis to hire Rivers, though it did not, apparently, go well with the mercurial trumpeter and leader.  The resulting album, Miles in Tokyo, is intriguing because of how different Rivers sounded compared to George Coleman, whom he replaced, and Wayne Shorter, who replaced him.

That difference is mostly in Rivers' grainy sound, his powerful sense of dynamics, crackling runs, stunning fluidity and unusual approach to melody and rhythm.  When it came to making his first recording, Rivers brought in the Davis rhythm section of Williams (who'd first played professionally at 13 with Rivers in Boston) and the great Ron Carter on bass.  Rounding out the lineup is the fine pianist Jaki Byard, who'd been in a band with Rivers years before and also was an important contributor to the bands of Charles Mingus and Eric Dolphy.  It is notable that Rivers rarely recorded with a pianist, but Byard's history with the leader and his sympathetic playing makes it work well.

Fuchsia Swing Song definitely has the bop touch to it, with a strong dose of blues, especially in Byard's comping and light touch while soloing ("Luminous Monolith" even features a brief snippet that sounds like barrelhouse-style playing). Williams makes tremendous use of his amazing cymbal along with fantastic polyrhythmic work, while Carter is typically stellar in his highly supportive playing.  Given his first opportunity to showcase his playing, Rivers takes full advantage and makes full use of his abilities.  "Beatrice," named for the leader's wife, is a rare and pretty ballad, showing Rivers' ability to yield warm and still challenging solos.

Rivers went on to record a few more sides for Blue Note, which embraced the so-called "avant garde" in the mid-Sixties, signing Dolphy, Andrew Hill, Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor and others, but the label was sold and most of these musicians stopped recording for Blue Note by 1968.  He had a fruitful and notably freer period with Impulse in the first part of the Seventies and then recorded for many smaller labels over the years, including his own Rivbea Sound. 

Rivers died at the end of 2011 at age 88, still nowhere near as recognized as he should have been because he was one of the greatest and most distinctive composers and players in jazz for some 45 years.  Fuchsia Swing Song is where it all started and is a great introduction to the work of this unsung master.

Sam Rivers: Crystals

The great multi-instrumentalist Sam Rivers is remarkably underappreciated, perhaps partly because he created some of his greatest work during the period when jazz was at its lowest point of appreciation in the late 1960s and onward.

Crystals was released in 1974 by Impulse!, the so-called label that John Coltrane built, and it is a towering achievement, compositionally and in terms of performance.

On the first point, Rivers was a master at using melody, rhythm, harmony, instrumental interplay, tempo and chord structures in a way that both recognized jazz tradition with a forward-thinking mentality that seems fresh today.

With regard to the second, this was Rivers' first album using orchestral accompaniment and he made the best possible use of a massive number of instrumentalists.  But, rather than overcrowd the pieces, the leader's marshaling of his orchestral resources is such that there is a perfect balance of fullness, richness and power that makes the most of his excellent writing.

In the lines, Rivers stated that he wrote the six pieces between 1959 and 1972, with one track "Exultation" being the sole piece from emanating from the earlier period, as  "conceived in 1959 and completed in 1964" and he wrote that he often worked on many pieces at a given time, or, rather, spent time on one, put it aside, and then worked on others, before coming back to the first, often many years later.

The rest of the tracks were more recent, from 1967 on, and it is interesting to note that Rivers stated "the compositions on this album were chosen at random.  They could have been any one or sections of more than thirty compositions which have been performed in the New York area, by groups of size ranging from sextet to thirty-five musicians."

In fact, Rivers had recently formed his RivBea Orchestra (the second part of the first word being the name of his wife Bea) and was devoting more of his attention to working with large ensembles at a loft in New York.

Significantly, Rivers' notes refer to the many unusual, fluid and dynamic forces at work in this amazing music.  In "Tranquility", the tune is "atonal in concept, with 120 bars of written music with an improvised introduction and ending". With "Postlude", the music comprises "a dense constantly changing mass, each instrument with forty or more bars in its statement, each ending at a different place, then repeating—endless repetition of parts with different entrances produces the ever-changing sound of the whole."  And, in "Bursts—Orb—Earth Song", there are "other instruments entering at given times, some written, others improvised, creating a continuous acceleration to a peak."

These are some prime examples of the complex and ever-changing nature of the composer working with a large group of musical resources in personnel and instruments, as well as compositional technique, to create a masterpiece.

Among the musicans are multi-instrumentalist Paul Jeffrey, who headed an octet and worked with Thelonious Monk, Count Basie, Dizzy Gillespie and Duke Ellington; trumpeter Ted Daniel, a sideman for Archie Shepp, Sonny Sharrock and Dewey Redman, as well as his own groups; trombonist Charles Greenlee, a frequent player with Shepp; trummpeter Richard Williams, whose background included stints with Oliver Nelson, the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Orchestra, and Jaki Byard; and drummer Warren Smith, who was in the Gil Evans Orchestra and Max Roach's percussion ensenble M'Boom; and others.

Rivers also thanked a roster of musicians who were on this album and performed other of his works, leading some reviewers to think all of them played on Crystals, though only some did.  In any case, it's an impressive list of players.

The 2002 release on disc, in a mimi-LP sleeve, features updated sound to further enhance the experience of a landmark recording.  Some day, hopefully, Sam Rivers will get the attention he is due--as a performer on saxophones, flute and piano and as a composer of the highest abilities.

David Holland Quartet: Conference of the Birds

Master bassist Dave Holland has had a remarkable career, starting in England and flowering when he was recruited to play with Miles Davis in 1969.  His speed, power, flexibility and tremendous sense of time made him one of the greatest bass players of his era.

He has had, however, relatively few dates as a leader, but his 1973 (recorded late 1972) ECM album Conference of the Birds is an exceptional recording and a true classic of experimental jazz that has the rare virtue of employing two of the giants of modern saxophone: Anthony Braxton and Sam Rivers.  Any fan of these two knows this was the sole recorded meeting of these venerable figures and they make the most of it, thanks to the stellar rhythmic support of Holland and drummer Barry Altschul.

Holland very simply explains that the title came about because of a regular "conference" of birds singing in his apartment's garden early in the mornings and the spirit of these performances were to be shared with other musicians and people broadly.

The opening tracks "Four Winds" has a nice, memorable melody and then the quartet takes off with a tight and telepathic performance that features an angular and elliptical solo by Rivers, whose sense of timing in working with the deep grooves established by Holland and the precise timekeeping of Altschul is really something to behold.

Rivers may have been seen as "far out" in the "free jazz" sense, but he also was masterful in working with rhythm sections in his playing, as aptly demonstrated here.  Braxton joins in toward the end, the two rephrase the theme, and then Braxton works his way with some melodic expression before taking off into the stratosphere, taking Holland and Altschul with him in some very powerful moments.

Braxton's playing has been depicted as cold, intellectual, and forbidding, but with Holland and Altschul hewing to a steady groove, his playing meshes well, just in a very different way than that of Rivers.  Towards the end, Rivers jumps back in for some spirited back-and-forth with Braxton and the theme is restated to close out a staggering display of performance.

After that blazing opening, "Q & A" starts off more quietly, but with a particularly inspired choice in having Altschul demonstrate a broad tonal range of percussion.  He's been accused of being too busy and showy, but this is an excellent example of how a great drummer utilizes the full resources of a kit.  The horns enter with Rivers on flute and Braxton on clarinet and the combination works really well in the context of the call-and-response format the title indicates.  Holland goes arco in some of his playing, as well, moving the piece into more of an atmospheric evocation of sound, but the piece never meanders unnecessarily, partially because that rhythm section keeps the proceedings well grounded.

Holland takes a solo turn on the title track and, invariably, many people shudder at the thought of listening through another interminable bass solo.  Holland, however, keeps it short and then gets into a nice strumming groove with the melodic statements offered by Braxton and Rivers on clarinet and flute.  Altschul mainly keeps things simple on cymbals for color.   The overall effect is a beautiful and classic piece.

"Interception" moves things back into speedy territory, much like "Four Winds" and Rivers takes the first solo, followed by Holland's strong and nimble solo.  After a restatement of the theme, in comes Braxton for his distinctive voice as he utilizes a variety of resources, including overblowing, long sinuous runs and voice-like statements in his amazing work before the ensemble returns to the theme and closes out with an Altschul solo.

"Now Here (Nowhere)" begins with a subdued intro and interplay between the horns and bass with some percussive effects and is another example of emotion, economy and interplay that shows that "free jazz" can also be highly melodic, atmospheric and imaginative.

The closer is "See Saw" and Rivers begins again, with his solo another example of how well he integrates with the bass and drums--just a gorgeously executed performance from a greatly-underappreciated master.  A brief evocation of the theme then leads to Braxton and it is another broad expression and a roaring solo at that.  When Rivers joins back for the end, there's a sense that this remarkable recording, being the only meeting between these two giants and supported and promoted by a sterling rhythm section, is a truly rare example of how experimental jazz is at its most successful.

Holland may also be somewhat underappreciated, if not for his playing, then at least for his ability to compose excellent material and then recruit some of the finest musicians in jazz to execute a stellar album.  Conference of the Birds is a summit of selfless musicians at their best and ECM, a new label at the time primarily formed to record Keith Jarrett deserves all praise for recording it.

Sam Rivers: Trio Live

It was almost a year ago, at the end of 2011, that the underrecognized Sam Rivers died at the age of 88.  A multi-instrumentalist, who played tenor and soprano saxopones, flute and piano, Rivers came up in the jazz ranks in Boston, but remained a little-known figure elsewhere until his former sideman, the teenage drum phenom Tony Williams, recruited him to join the Miles Davis Quintet in 1964, when Rivers was already 40.

While Rivers' tenure with Davis was short, because his playing just was too free for the leader's tastes, it is definitely worth hearing the long-delayed release Miles in Tokyo, which demonstrates just how inventive and distinctive Rivers' sound was.

After that brief period with Davis, though, Rivers was signed to Blue Note Records and delivered some interesting, if not particularly high selling, albums during the mid-1960s.  After another period of obscurity, the Impulse! label signed him in 1973 and a couple of fascinating live albums were released, including Streams, which was this blogger's introduction to this amazing performer some twenty years ago.

However, the Trio Live album, while somewhat similar in structure of the group and arrangement of the pieces, is just a bit better.

The first three pieces, a suite called "Hues of Melanin," present 44 minutes of perfomance at Yale University in November 1973 and teamed Rivers with the supple and creative Cecil McBee on bass and the polyrhythmic and vigorous drumming of Barry Altschul.  McBee was also outstanding on Streams, which also featured future disco-era hit maker Norman Connors on the traps.  While some suggest that Connors was not suited for Rivers' style, and this may be true, Altschul did seems a better fit.

The rhythm section does do a great job creating an accompaniment that holds up to Rivers' prodigious playing.  It's one thing to be a master of a chosen instrument, but Rivers was spectacular on three.  His tenor playing was truly his own, not sounding like any of the masters before him, and his navigation from the lower to the higher ranges is impeccable, though on Trio Live, he only played this instrument on one five-plus minute section of this concert.  

In the 34-minute first section, he plays expansive on both soprano sax and flute and, on the former, he displays a stamina, clarity and expressiveness that would give such better-known masters as Steve Lacy and John Coltrane a run for their money.  His flute playing is also excellent and it is on this instrument that he tended, in these extremely free trio performances (the only type, he said, where he felt he could be truly free) to engage in a stream-of-consciousness series of yelps, screams, and other forms of vocalizing that might turn some listeners off, though it strikes this listener as a joyful reaction to the freedom he and his bandmates were enjoying.

While there is no comparing him to any of the greats, his piano section, comprising just over four minutes, finds him playing quite well, with flowing, graceful lines that cascade and flow easily and attractively.

The last two pieces are called "Suite for Molde" and take in just under 20 minutes of a show at the Molde Jazz Festival in Norway in August 1973 with Arild Anderson playing bass.  Anderson plays well and works smoothly with Rivers and Altschul, with his bowed work on the second part meshing nicely with that of Rivers, though he doesn't have the strength and elasticity of McBee (but, then, few bassists did.)  This work has over half the time, denoted as part two, devoted to Rivers playing tenor and he is simply awesome here, ranging rapidly and mightily on this highly expressive and emotive instrument. 

But, Rivers' work on the first part with the subtitle "Onyx" used for the soprano sax portion and "Topaz" for the flute section.  It would be interesting to know just what the bandleader felt distinguished each by the names of the precious metals, while perhaps the denotation of "Ivory Black" for the piano section of "Hues for Melanin" seems obvious, while the term "Violet" for the tenor portion of that Yale performance might reflect something visceral and striking?

Those terms would aptly describe the entire recording and it is interesting to read Rivers' comments from the original 1978 liner notes:  "You can come out here and be an intuitive musician and be really happening, but your dreams and visions won't last forever.  If you don't get into the books and get this technical thing together while your intuitive things is happening, it's over."

This could be interpreted to mean that the spiritual vibe that animated much free jazz in the 1960s and early 1970s was driven more by the former quality, which has its virtues, but that the technical ability developed through much hard work and practice can take that intuitiveness and give it something more solid and substantial.  Conversely, technical talent alone, with the emotive power of intuitive improvisation, can come across as cold.  This might be an apt way to distinguish craftsmanship (technics) with artistry (intuitiveness), provided that the exceptional artist has both.

That, the great Sam Rivers had in overflowing abundance on these performances.