Showing posts with label Albert Ayler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Albert Ayler. Show all posts

Monday, September 20, 2021

For Fanatics Only— Albert Ayler: Holy Ghost

Saxophonist and composer Albert Ayler (1936-1970) was definitely a one-of-a-kind musician and certainly not easy listening.  It's understandable why it would be hard to get into what he was doing, but, if you do, you really do.  

After an initial tryout with the staggering Live in Greenwich Village, it took a while to get back into it, but acquiring the phenomenal Spiritual Unity did it and a deep dive into the remarkable music generated by Ayler in the space of just a few years from about 1964 to 1967 proved to be an exhilirating experience with the sheer joy, power and spirituality in the music a powerful pull into his singular world.

You'd have to be a dedicated Ayler fanatic to acquire Holy Ghost, but it is a staggering treasure house of riches.  Released in 2004 by Revenant Records, formed by the great musician John Fahey and a partner, this retrospective features nine discs, seven of them comprised of live recordings from 1962, when he offered a trio of idiosyncratic covers of jazz standards in a Finland concert, to 1970, when, dealing with tremendous professional and personal problems, he played a festival in France that summer, just a couple of months before his body was found in the East River in New York.

Most of the concert material is from his peak years with performances in Berlin, Copenhagen, and Rotterdam, as well as New York, Newport and two gigs in Ayler's hometown of Cleveland.  There are also some real treats here, including a 22-minute workout with the great Cecil Taylor in Denmark in 1962, when the legendary pianist recorded his vital music at the Cafe Montmartre, and three tunes Ayler and band played for the funeral of his mentor, John Coltrane (one can really hear the anguish in Ayler's playing.)


As with his later albums, the performances on the sixth and seventh discs include his eccentric girlfriend/vocalist Mary Parks and are notably different than his best work, but there is also his appearance as a sideman for Pharoah Sanders with his 23-minute opus, "Venus/Upper and Lower Egypt) and two tunes recorded in early 1969 at New York's Town Hall for the band of Ayler's brother Donald and featuring the great Sam Rivers on sax and Richard Davis on bass.  The recording quality varies considerably over these discs, but, for Ayler fan(atic)s, this is a true bonanza.

The last two discs are comprised of interviews with Ayler as well as early collaborator (and bridge to mentor Ornette Coleman) Don Cherry and there is a bonus tenth disc of two recordings made while Ayler was in a United States Army band.  The package is incredible, housed in a plastic box made from a mold of an onyx original and containing facsimiles of a Slug's Saloon handbill, a photo of Ayler as a boy, essays about the musician and others, while the discs are housed in beautiful rice-paper sleeves.

Then, there is a 200+ page hardbound book with testaments to Ayler, essays by Val Wilmer and Amiri Baraka and others, very detailed information on influences, sidemen, the set's tracklist, and a wealth of photographs.  The package is pretty remarkable and a great homage to one of the most distinctive and creative musicians of his time, who once wrote, "the music we play is a prayer, a message coming from God."  Whatever it was, the music of Albert Ayler was nothing if not absolutely sincere, totally honest and completely unfiltered and it is a powerful experience.

Sunday, March 24, 2019

Peter Brötzmann/Die Like a Dog Quartet: Little Birds Have Fast Hearts, Nos 1-2

Though it appears neither was aware of the other's work at the time, the parallels between the "free jazz" saxophonists American Albert Ayler and German Peter Brötzmann, are striking.  Both gloried in the sheer joy of expression in ecstatic sound when they emerged in the mid-1960s as "free jazz" exploded.  Not that their music sounded exactly the same and Ayler definitely had a heavily spiritual motivation that Brötzmann did not seem to have, but the unbridled energy that blared from their instruments definitely had some sort of kinship in the exploration of pure sound.

Ayler blazed trails and infuriated purists during his brief, but bracing peak blasts of powerful live and studio recordings from 1964 to 1967 before ill-advised attempts to reach a more popular audience through albums on Impulse Records failed badly.  There was a late attempt to regain his footing with some recorded live performances in Europe in summer 1970.  Then, in November, the great saxophonist disappeared after an argument with his girlfriend and his body was found floating in the East River near a pier in Brooklyn.  His drowning death remains a mystery and adds to the legend of the man called "Little Bird," in homage to his skills and comparisons to Charlie Parker.


Brötzmann, when he learned of Ayler's music became a devoted fan, and nearly thirty years after Ayler's death, formed a quartet called Die Like a Dog, an apparent reference to Ayler's passing.  A series of performances in November 1997 at a festival in Berlin yielded two volumes of stunning improvised music released first by FMP (Free Music Productions) and then by Jazzwerkstatt in a Die Like a Dog box set as Little Birds Have Fast Hearts, an encomium to Ayler.

From his ragged, wild and utterly intense early recordings like Machine Gun, For Adolphe Sax, and Nipples, among others, Brötzmann's career is still defined by his refusal to record much in the studio and his preference for the total spontaneity and freedom of live performance, though some of that sheer power has morphed into some reflective and introspective music.

Little Birds Have Fast Hearts has plenty of wild, careening and bracing moments over its 126 minutes in six parts, but there are also lots of moments where the music slows and thoughtful passages break up the intensity.  Fortunately, Brötzmann assembled an ensemble that could provide him the sensitive and near-telepathic accompaniment that make these recording so spectacular.


Toshinori Kondo is a perfect complement and foil, being known for his electronic treatments of his trimpet as well as his medium and slower tempo ruminations on this most emotive of wind instruments.  Kondo, a frequent collaborator like Brötzmann of Bill Laswell, makes the most of his style here, tempering the intensity of Brötamann's tenor, clairnet, and taogato with a consistent flow of bubbling and moderated energy.

The rhythm section is vital, because bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake, know how to hold down the bottom and yet work fluidly and with lightning quick reactions to the playing of the lead horns.  Their superb accompaniment never seeks to take the forefront, but keeps everything together perfectly, so that Brötzmann and Kondo can give flight to their fancies.  This makes Little Birds Have Fast Hearts a classic of free improvisation and worth repeated listenings, guaranteed to reveal more depth, nuance and excitement each time.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Albert Ayler: Spirits Rejoice


This entry is in response to the death on 19 April of Bernard Stollman, the attorney who founded ESP-Disk in response to hearing the amazing Albert Ayler perform live in 1964 and told him he was founding a label and wanted the tenor sax player to be his first artist.

Stollman, whose first release on ESP-Disk was actually a record about Esperanto, the universal language that has never caught on, liked to advertise that with his label, "the artists alone decide what you hear on their ESP-Disk."  And, however true that may have been, the label recorded some of the most expressive and off-putting (to most ears) of the so-called free jazz players from the middle and late sixties.  Ayler was perhaps the most notorious of them.

Stollman, however, was roundly criticized from musicians who recorded for the label and found themselves receiving little or no royalties and having no control over their music.  At the same time, the label made so little money that it was closed after about a decade, though revived again in 2005.  This version of Spirits Rejoice was issued in 2012 with a new design and layout and remastering.

Recorded at Judson Hall in New Tork on 23 September 1965, Spirits Rejoice is a prime example of Ayler's peak ecstatic phase, in which the songs largely revolve around spiritual themes exemplified by references to martial, New Orleans, R&B and other genres.  In a rare occurrence, another sax player, altoist Charles Tyler, recorded with Ayler, whose brother Donald also marks his debut as a rather raggedy, but very emotional, trumpeter.

The three horns are generally either playing the strangely uplifting themes or tearing into powerful solos, but they sound quite harmonic in the former, while moving in different directions, but with an ear to each other, into the outer limits of jazz on the latter.

Meanwhile, the remarkable Sunny Murray, eerily moaning most of the way through, plays his drums with the kind of meterless freedom that allows the soloists to play however they'd like, while keeping a sense of order to the proceedings.

The drummer is joined by bassists Henry Grimes and Gary Peacock, who are often not heard well in the mix unless soloing, even with a good remastering job.  This is a bit of a shame because both played often with Ayler and knew how to use their instruments, particularly Peacock, in the service of the music.

On at least one piece, "Angels," Ayler pairs up with the much older harpsichordist Call Cobbs, whose instrument was often used in pop, rock and jazz in the Sixties and sounds quaint, yet oddly appealing.  The again, hearing enough of Ayler's music and its obsession with spiritual concerns, Cobbs' playing does have an uncanny way of harmonizing with the somewhat maudlin melody of the piece.

Through Bernard Stollman and ESP-Disk, much of Ayler's best and most challenging work was released (even if Ayler received very little money for his work, if the accusations against Stollman are true) and we are fortunate to have the documentation of music from one of jazz's most intriguing musicians.  Throughout, Ayler's huge tone, melodic simplicity, utter sincerity, and his frenetic and fantastic solo work present him as one of the era's most distinctive performers.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Albert Ayler: Live in Greenwich Village: The Complete Impulse Recordings

The first Albert Ayler this blogger purchased back around 1990 was the original single-disc Live in Greenwich Village, released in 1967.  Admittedly, the album proved to be a hard-sell at the time with its freeing of time and rhythm, simple march-like melodies, and powerful intense soloing by the tenorist and others in his band all but overwhelming.

Years passed, though, and the gradual recalibration of listening to other so-called "free jazz," including the great Cecil Taylor (it took some time to get acclimated there, too), the post-1964 work of the sublime John Coltrane, such albums as the remarkable Ornette Coleman's Free Jazz, and others finally took root.  Allowing preconceptions to be broken down and new ways of hearing to come to the fore led to a greater appreciation for Ayler's work, especially when the tremendous Spiritual Unity (previously spotlighted here) was heard.

For a while, every Ayler recording that could be obtained was purchased and listened to with eagerness to enjoy his relentless pursuit of the joy of sound.  Eventually, the mammoth 10-disc box set, Holy Ghost, was acquired and it will also be given due attention here (under the occasional, half-humorous moniker of "For Fanatics Only.)

It's amazing, then, that Ayler only recorded for about seven years, with the period from 1964-67 being that in which his most fruitful work was made.  One of the great documents of his live work is the double-disc Live in Greenwich Village: The Complete Impulse Recordings, which augments the original live album with other performances.

 
The opening track, "Holy Ghost", is the sole offering from a March 1965 set at The Village Gate and features a quintet with Ayler's brother Don on trumpet, Lewis Worrrell on bass, cellist Joel Freedman, and the great drummer Sunny Murray, one of those most responsible for the titanic shift away from regular timekeeping and rhythm to a more open conception.  Freedman's cello playing also provides a startling type of color and tone when heard against Ayler's impassioned playing and Donald Ayler's rough, but intense contributions.

The sessions that were used in the original album were recorded in December 1966 at The Village Vanguard and at The Village Theater about two months later.  At the Vanguard, violinist Michel Sampson, bassists Bill Folwell and Henry Grimes, and drummer Beaver Harris joined the Ayler brothers and the presence of two bass players and Sampson's work gave a notably difference in atmosphere and rhythm.  On one track, "Angels," a pianist performed with Ayler and it is assumed it was Call Cobbs, Jr., an older man who played occasionally with Ayler over the years.

The Village Theater's set had a trombonist, George Steele, on the incomplete tune "Universal Thoughts" and this time both Sampson and Freedman appeared, upping the ante further in terms of what the stringed instruments brought to the larger format of the band.  Folwell was joined on bass by Alan Silva, exclusively using the bow evidently.  Harris did the drumming, except on the tribute "For John Coltrane" that opens disc two.

A couple of pieces are in mono sound and another did not have a master tape version, but those who appreciate the idealism, power, passion and yearning that is evident in Ayler's music will have no problem hearing songs that are low-fi or suddenly trail off.  Ayler was completely sincere in his belief that his music was inspired by divine ideas and his desire to elevate his work into a spiritual plane is obvious.  Ultimately, he tried more commercial work after 1967 and struggled to find an audience before his mysterious and untimely death in September 1970.

Undoubtedly, listening to the work of this remarkable saxophonist is challenging and, as has been stated here before, the advice offered by him and his brother is about the best that can be given for those willing to try.  In other words, try to follow the sound, not the notes.  Being open-minded and then geared towards the sound rather than the structure is the way to go with the work of Albert Ayler.  It took this listener some time to adapt, but the results have been rewarding and uplifting.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Albert Ayler: Spiritual Unity

In the so-called world of "avant-garde" or "free" jazz, there was probably no one freer than tenor saxophonist Albert Ayler.  Born in Cleveland in 1936, Ayler first developed professionally in Europe, where he had served, as so many jazz musicians did, in the military.  His earliest recordings came out of Denmark and, in 1964, he returned to New York and formed a trio with bassist Gary Peacock (best known for his work in the Keith Jarrett trio, specializing in standards, with the renowned pianist and the remarkable drummer Jack DeJohnette) and drummer Sunny Murray, who may have been the freest drummer in jazz, coming first to attention with Cecil Taylor.  Ayler was hailed for his innovations by John Coltrane, who was clearly influenced by the former in his work, especially from the 1965 album Meditations onward, and by the sadly underappreciated Eric Dolphy, who said Ayler was the best sax player he knew.

Their 1964 album, Spiritual Unity, the first release of the iconoclastic ESP-Disk label, is a fantastic document of Ayler's self-described "energy music."  Freed of dependence on chord changes and standard timekeeping, the trio was an example of how absolute freedom (well, outside of the basic head or melody statement offered in a given piece) can work when the players are sympathetic to each other as well as independently playing whatever moves them on their instrument.

Peacock manages to provide a foundation without a steady rhythm or pulse, but his playing does keep the sound anchored, even as explores a wide tonal range on the bass.  Murray, eerily humming or moaning throughout, which adds an air of mystery, foreboding, or a strange feeling of joy (depending on the listener's take) also employs a great variety of percussive elements, none of it involving rolls, hard cracks of the snare, or aggressive ride cymbal playing.  Instead, he plays impressionistically and uses seemingly all parts of his kit, especially a spreading cymbal sound, to create with Peacock lots of space for the leader's playing.  For something this "free" the rhythm section is amazingly grounded without being restricted to a defined sense of time.

Ayler, as he nearly always did, dominates the proceedings, largely because of his massive, powerful sound on the saxophone, assisted by the hardest plastic reed he could get.  This not only allowed him tremendous volume, but an expansive vibrato that made his playing instantly recognizable (not that this was considered a good thing by many.)  Known as an intensely charismatic, spiritual and eccentric person, Ayler was convinced that he was on a God-given mission to change the world through music.  This might not have seemed that "far out" in the "far out" Sixties, but the sheer conviction he possessed is palpably heard in his music, especially on Spiritual Unity, where he finds the right compatriots to craft his message.



Ayler's most  well-known composition, "Ghosts," is given two variations here, the second twice as long as the first (and Ayler soloing for much longer than on the first version), and it is the best example of his approach of using simple melodies, seemingly drawing from spirituals, pre-1930 New Orleans-style jazz, marches, and rural folk, to open a piece before launching into the totally free soloing that ran the gamut of expressive honking, screaming, wailing, squealing and, occasionally, a beautiful clear-toned phrase that could remind listeners that Ayler was perfectly capable of playing "in the tradition" if he chose to.

Actually, Albert Ayler was more "in the tradition" than people gave him credit for, if we allow for the fact that "in the tradition" can mean taking earlier aspects of the music, applying new ideas, and then creating a hybrid that celebrates the best of what jazz can be.  Far more than merely high-volume screaming, Ayler crafted a totally unique sound that took "free" jazz to the limits.

At under 30 minutes and because of the empathy among the musicians that was fully realized in the title, Spiritual Unity is probably the best place for the uninitiated to start with Ayler.  While his music is invariably described as "difficult," the best piece of advice on how to listen to it was offered by him and his trumpeter brother, Donald:  try to listen to the sound and not the notes.  In other words, don't get caught up in intellectualizing the music from a structural point of view.  Instead, focus on the emotion embodied in the playing and let it carry you as far as you are willing to go.

For those willing to go along for the ride, the music of Albert Ayler, especially up through 1967 and the album Love Cry, can be a powerful and affecting experience.  Disappointed that his message of music as the harbinger of a new, peaceful age was not reaching larger audiences, Ayler redirected his efforts towards a more commercial sound driven by funk, electric guitar, and "hippie" lyrics and vocals by his girlfriend Mary Parks (known as Mary Maria.)  That proved to be unsuccessful also and, just as Ayler was starting to move back toward the free jazz sound that made his name (if not his fame), he disappeared in November 1970 and was found floating in the East River, a death usually attributed to suicide, though some believe he was murdered or perhaps fell in the river accidentally.

An early death often drives a mystique that can overshadow the work the person did, but in Ayler's case, the work speaks for itself.  A better introduction to that work cannot be found than Spiritual Unity.

Albert Ayler Trio:  Spiritual Unity (ESP-Disk)

1.  Ghosts: First Variation  5:14
2.  The Wizard  7:23
3.  Spirits  6:48
4.  Ghosts: Second Variation  10:02