John Coltrane: My Favorite Things

In 1990, when it was decided to explore jazz beyond the few recordings heard from the great Miles Davis, the two names that came up when figuring who to hear were the amazing Ornette Coleman and John Coltrane.  As much as Coleman astounded with his unusual approaches to harmony and time, hearing My Favorite Things, particularly its widely known title track in which the leader's soprano sax, rarely heard in those days, was a revelation.  As great as that tune is, there are also the exceptional covers of "Summertime," "Everytime We Say Goodbye," and "But Not For Me."  While I bought a number of Ornette albums at that time, I became obsessed with Trane and acquired as many recordings as my pocketbook would allow.

It wasn't until I acquired the box set, the strangely named The Heavyweight Champion: John Coltrane, The Complete Atlantic Recordings that the realization hit that there were just six days between 21-26 October 1960 when the saxophonist and his band of McCoy Tyner (who just left us in March) on piano, drummer Elvin Jones and bassist Steve Davis (Tyner's brother-in-law and a largely unknown figure) churned out almost two dozen songs that included those on My Favorite Things, released in March 1961, as well as pieces for Coltrane Jazz, which came out just a month prior, Coltrane Plays the Blues, issued in July 1962, and Coltrane's Sound, released in June 1964—the latter two hitting the shops well after Trane signed with Impulse and took his music to another level of brilliance.  That was a remarkable week, with the peak being the quartet of classic renderings on this still-astounding album.

Ornette Coleman Quartet: This Is Our Music

After the controversial splash (or tidal wave, maybe) that the Ornette Coleman Quartet made when it played its legendary run at the Five Spot in New York in 1959, the group was signed to a major label deal with Atlantic Records.

What resulted was an amazing run of phenomenal recordings that raised a ruckus among those who thought Coleman was a fraud, in his playing and compositional and conceptual methods, but also was inspiring to a new generation of creative artists and adventurous listeners drawn to his freer ideas of performance.

The third Atlantic release, and Coleman's fifth album overall, This Is Our Music, was recorded in summer 1960 and released early the following year.  It included pocket trumpeter Don Cherry and bassist Charlie Haden from his previous work, but also featured drummer Ed Blackwell, replacing Billy Higgins.  The latter was an important part of the success of The Shape of Jazz to Come and Change of the Century, but Blackwell proved to be more than a worthy successor, with his particular way of accompanying the soloists and, as Coleman wrote in the liners, his ability to "play rhythm so close to the tempered notes that one seems to hear them take each other's places."

This Is Our Music starts off with the hard-hitting and propulsive "Blues Connotation," which easily has one of the most memorable melodies in all of Coleman's work.  This high-energy masterpiece is followed by one of the most haunting and off-kilter ballads in the composer's palette, the stunning "Beauty is a Rare Thing" (which became the title of the 1990s box set of Coleman's complete recordings for Atlantic.)

All the tunes on this album are excellent and showcase not only the fine solo work, including some of the more interesting playing by the leader in his long career, but also the staggering interplay among the four musicians as an integrated ensemble--a core component of Coleman's hard-to-articulate concept of "harmolodics."  Notably, for a composer who almost never performed covers, there is a pretty straight-ahead version of the Gershwin brothers' chestnut "Embraceable You" that stands out amid the originals.  Part of the immense appeal (or the big turnoff) of Coleman's work in those early years was his unpredictability and willingness to explore wherever the music took the players and the listeners.

John Coltrane: Giant Steps

This is the album, recorded in May and December 1959 and released on Atlantic Records, that fully established John Coltrane as a masterful player, composer and bandleader, when it was released in January 1960.  On the heels of Miles Davis's Kind oi Blue, on which Coltrane was a stellar contributor, and out the same year as Ornette Coleman's revolutionary Free Jazz, Giant Steps was one of the indicators of where jazz was heading in the new decade.

The paths (there are almost always several) would not be easy to trod, as old-school critics howled in derision and anger about what the so-called "avant garde" was doing, while clinging to the old verities of bop, hard bop and the preexistng styles that were being challenged.

Coltrane, universally known as a kind, gentle, spiritual man not given to contentious arguments about anything, became the object of vitriol and scorn totally unfair to both the man and musician.  More than a half-century later, it seems quaint and laughable to imagine Coltrane's "giant steps" towards a different way of playing jazz being a threat to anyone.

The damnations were enough, evidently, so that a series of albums through 1964 showed Trane moving more frequently into more melodic and traditional territory, through "My Favorite Things", albums with Duke Ellington and Johnny Hartman, the recording of classic standards, and right up to the solemn and gorgeous Crescent.

But, it was first Giant Steps, then elements of the remarkable Africa/Brass, and especially the staggering Live at the Village Vanguard (its complete package gives the fan three additional discs of glorious playing at that December 1961 engagement) that invited the withering scrutiny of critics, most of whom couldn't play an instrument, compose or do anything that gave them the mantle and aura of authority they assumed.

So, the music.  The original seven-track album has classic after classic. The mind-blowing speed, precision and technical mastery of the title track is legendary and it has been a challenge for sax players ever since to take the tune on and do what they can with it.  "Cousin Mary," named for Coltrane's relation and keeper of the flame when it came to his Philadelphia home being a historic site, was long a standard in Trane's repertoire.

"Syeeda's Song Flute," named after Trane's adopted daughter by his first wife, is another joyous piece.  "Mr. P.C.," a tribute to longtime Davis and Coltrane bassist Paul Chambers, is one of the more recognizable melodies in Trane's discography and a live favorite for years.

Finally, there's "Naima," in honor of the composer's first wife, and simply one of the finest ballads, not only of Coltrane's work, but of anyone's.  Like "My Favorite Things," it was a standard piece even when the music went totally free and to hear a version of the song from, say, the second Village Vanguard album in 1966, compared to the earlier one from Giant Steps is an interesting way to hear just how much Coltrane's sound developed over those five years.

Trane was still about a year away from solidifying his band with the "classic quartet" of McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones.  He had Chambers as his anchor at the bass, Art Taylor on drums and Tommy Flanagan at the piano.  For "Naima," drummer Jimmy Cobb and pianist Wynton Kelly, both from the Davis band and Kind of Blue, brought their soft, sensitive touches to the classic.  Then, for "Giant Steps," Lex Humphries was at the kit and Cedar Walton played piano.  All of these musicians were excellent at their instruments, though there has been much said especially about the struggles some had with the speed and complexity of some of the tunes, particularly the title track.

But, Coltrane kept trying other musicians on subsequent records until he first secured Tyner, then Jones and, finally, Garrison and the "classic quartet" went on that momentous four-year run that culminated with A Love Supreme in 1965.  Still, even if Trane's greatest work was in that 1961-65 period with that quartet, Giant Steps, following from the great start of 1957's Blue Train, was the album that put Coltrane in the front ranks of jazz's greatest players, writers and leaders.

Ornette Coleman: Change of the Century

There is a generation of jazz musicians that we are rapidly losing and yesterday another giant passed on.  Bassist Charlie Haden, whose work with Ornette Coleman, Keith Jarrett and his own Liberation Music Orchestra and Quartet West projects among many others put him at the forefront of so-called "avant garde" or "new jazz" playing, died at age 76 in Los Angeles after a long illness.

Haden, who came to Los Angeles to study music and met Coleman in the mid-1950s, first came to attention in the legendary Coleman quartet that made a splash at the Five Spot Café in New York in 1959 and in subsequent classic recordings for Atlantic Records.  The first, The Shape of Jazz to Come, has been featured here and is one of the great jazz records of all time.

The second album, recorded in Los Angeles in October 1959, is Change of the Century and its assertive, provocative title, as with its predecessor, is more than apt and delivers fully on its promise.  Coleman was hitting on all cylinders with his unusual composition and arranging method, as well as his emotive and innovative playing and his telepathic harmonizing with Don Cherry, on pocket trumpet, continues to astound.  Billy Higgins, an always-versatile drummer who could play as easily with the freest of players as well as the most traditional, is relentlessly swinging even as he adapts his playing to match the unusual structures established by the leader.

Then there's Haden, whose supple, flexible, creative and spot-on tone works in tandem with Higgins to keep those free rhythms with enough organization to allow the soloists to work without hindrance and provide the listener endless enjoyment—provided that the listener appreciates the yeoman work that a bassist provides.

This album is filled with great pieces, from the opening "Ramblin'" to the self-evidently titled "Free," the Higgins-showcase "Forerunner," which also has an excellent blistering Coleman solo and the sublime "Una Muy Bonita," which starts with Haden's low, simple but powerful underpinning riff and Coleman and Cherry's great melodic harmonizing to start a great piece of music.  "Bird Food" has a melody that is, of course, highly evocative of Charlie Parker, showing the importance of tradition expressed in new ways.  Cherry also gets an extended solo here.  Finally, "Change of the Century" features a head arrangement of great complexity and speed with that Coleman/Cherry interplay that may well have peaked on this album and its title track.  Coleman's solo work is also something to behold here.

 

Again, Haden's consistency, inventiveness and dependability in holding down the bottom is nothing short of remarkable on each of these tunes.  He does get to put his playing more in the forefront on "The Face of the Bass" but it is not one he uses to show off, but instead displays his technique in more subtle ways which make his understated playing all the more remarkable.  Sadly, as was too often the case in the jazz world, a heroin addiction led to Haden's departure from the Coleman quartet in August 1960.

 

But, as noted above, Haden went on to other impressive work, but his years with Coleman are likely the most memorable and it's hard to top the fabulous Change of the Century, which had the unusual distinction of being a sophomore release (well, in this case, a major-label followup--two albums on the Los Angeles-based Contemporary label predate the Atlantic albums) that was every bit as good as its forerunner.

 

30 years later, as part of the Los Angeles Festival, a reunion of the Coleman Quartet was scheduled at the beautiful old Orpheum Theatre in downtown.  The September 1990 performance, however, became a late-hour trio when Don Cherry came down sick after a dental appointment.  This listener, just starting to become exposed to jazz in a big way, happened to have great orchestra-level seats near the center of the former movie palace and listened with enthusiastic amateur wonder as Coleman, Higgins and Haden performed two hours of magical music.

 

It was an unforgettable experience and, pondering the death of Charlie Haden, it is one that came immediately to mind when the news was read.  Long may his music be heard and appreciated!

Charlie Parker: Yardbird Suite

In 1990, YHB was moving from a predominant interest in alternative rock (whatever that seemed to mean at the time) to a wide-ranging mix of rock, world, classical, hip-hop, reggae and jazz.  With the latter, there had been an initial exposure starting in 1984 to the music of Miles Davis, mostly of that era with a look back at Bitches Brew because of its historic connotations as well as its inherent musical interest.

With the sea change in '90, though, came an opportunity to research the early history of jazz for a project at work.  This involved buying vinyl recordings of such performers as the Original Dixieland Jazz Band, New Orleans Rhythm Kings, Jelly Roll Morton, King Oliver, Bessie Smith, Bix Beiderbecke and the amazing 1925 and 1927 work of Louis Armstrong and his Hot Fives and Hot Sevens.  It also meant listening to George Gershwin's notable Rhapsody in Blue, as well as wading through such pop confections that appropriated shallow imitations of jazz sounds as those produced by Ferde Grofe, Jean Goldkette and the so-called "King of Jazz," the massively popular Paul Whiteman.

It was naturally Armstrong's work, including small ensemble work with the great pianist Earl Hines and the remarkable bandleader Fletcher Henderson that made the biggest impact.  Before he became popular and settled into an entertainment mode that left the innovations of the Twenties behind, Armstrong was so far beyond his contemporaries in power, control, intonation and improvisatory ideas, in addition to his innate entertainment skills, that it was as if he occupied his own distinct musical world.

After Armstrong, the next musician in jazz who made that sort of impression was the masterful alto saxophonist Charlie Parker.  This blogger saw Clint Eastwood's well-intended, but somewhat one-dimensional film Bird, but had not heard any of Parker's music until a double vinyl album of his Savoy and Dial recordings of the middle to late 1940s was acquired.

What an impression!  It was similar to hearing the Hot Fives and Hot Sevens material--realizing that here was someone who singlehandedly led a musical form into another direction.  Years passed, though, and, while appreciation for Parker's astounding achievements remained, nothing was purchased on CD until quite recently.

Which leads to Rhino's excellent two-disc survey of Parker's short recording career of about a decade, Yardbird Suite.  This well-chosen and sequenced recording, aptly subtitled "The Ultimate Collection," takes the listener from Parker's appearance on a single by his collaborator and fellow innovator, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie, from March 1945 to work done under the production of Norman Granz shortly before Parker's death in 1955.

Masterpieces abound, including Gillespie's 1945 renditions of "Salt Peanuts" and "Hot House", Parker's Savoy and Dial recordings of "Ko Ko," "Moose the Mooche," "Yardbird Suite," "Ornithology," "Relaxin' at Camarillo," "Donna Lee," "Chasing the Bird," "Embraceable You," a Gershwin and Gershwin chestnut, the mysteriously named "Klactoveedsedstene." "Scrapple from the Apple," and "Parker's Mood," and his work under Granz  from the early to mid Fifties such as "Star Eyes," "My Little Suede Shoes," "Bloomdido," and "Confirmation."  There is also a nice selection of live recordings from concerts at Birdland, the famed club named for Parker, and Rockland Palace from 1951 and 1952, the latter showcasing him with strings.

It's easy to focus on the Savoy and Dial pieces, which are, without question, where Parker's greatest work is heard, but the judicious selection of material of post-1948 work under Granz' supervision has plenty of excellent playing by the sax legend and his various bands.  In fact, the level of musicianship from his sidemen is generally top-notch, including a young and maturing Miles Davis, the master drummer Max Roach, Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, Buddy Rich (on 1950s "Bloomdido"), the great drummer Roy Haynes, who is still with us, Percy Heath, and Bud Powell.

Naturally, hearing Parker create magic time after time on this recording is something to behold.  His sureness of touch, strong tone, speed, power and breathtaking  development of ideas during his improvisations is staggering.  It is easy to see why he was legendary during his short life and so influential (and daunting) to alto sax players and other musicians afterward.  He was truly in his own musical world, as Armstrong was, and others who followed, like Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman and John Coltrane.

Attention focuses too often on Parker's drug and alcohol addictions, his behavior towards fellow musicians and people close to him, and so on, but his music, starting with recordings that are seven decades removed, is still powerful and affecting, ensuring he will have a legacy for as long, probably, as music is heard.

In addition to the great music, there is a 60-page booklet chock full of essays with biographical and discographical information, as well as a number of excellent photos of Parker, Harlem during the era, and many of the musicians who played on the tracks.  As a summation of his career and a good introduction to newcomers as well as a satisfying compendium, presumably, for devotees, Yardbird Suite is a great document of the one of the greatest of all musicians, the incomparable Charlie Parker.

Art Ensemble of Chicago: Bap-Tizum

Emerging in the fertile 1960s free jazz scene in Chicago and members of the remarkable collective called the Association for the Advancement of Creative Music (AACM), which included such performers as Henry Threadgill (covered here recently) and Anthony Braxton (who soon will be), three members of the quintet later known as The Art Ensemble of Chicago came together through the recordings of saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell, who recorded three albums from 1966 to 1969 that featured trumpeter Lester Bowie and bassist Malachi Favors Maghostut.  Saxophonist Joseph Jarman then became associated with this trio and, by 1969, the Art Ensemble was officially formed.  A year later, the group was augmented by drummer and percussionist (though everyone had an impressive batterie of percussion instruments which distinguished the AECO) Famoudou Don Moye, who was born in Rochester, New York and studied in Detroit before emigrating to Europe when he joined the Ensemble in 1970.

With its members playing an incredible multitude of instruments, some wearing African clothing and face paint, while others wore "Western" garb, and performing music that, by turns, could be fantastically powerful, intense and serious and then joyful, humorous and irreverent, the band combined a striking visual component with a totally catholic approach to sound that set them apart from anyone else in the jazz world.

The Art Ensemble spent most of its earlier years in France, where a series of notable recordings for the BYG/Actuel label were made, some of which will make their appearance here down the road.  In 1972, the group had its first appearance at an American festival, when it performed at the Ann Arbor Blues and Jazz Festival, held at a field named for the famed blues performer Otis Spann, on 9 September 1972.

Introduced by John Sinclair, poet, radical founder of the anti-racist White Panthers, and manager of Detroit's legendary rock band, the MC5, the group performed a 45-minute set that is comprised of unusual titles like "Nfamoudou-Boudougou," "Immm," "Unanka," and "Oouffnoon," and the music is generally as impressionistic as the titles with the first track displaying all the percussion pyrotechnics the group used so effectively over the years.  "Unanka" features an unusual sax/bas duet with Favors and Mitchell, whereas Mitchell's frenetic soloing is underscored by Moye's percussion in "Oouffnoon."  "Ohnedaruth" highlights Bowie's powerful and innovative trumpet playing and the use of Jarman and Mitchell's deep, rich bass saxes creates a memorable piece that is a highlight of the set.  By the time the band settled into the perfect, tight swing of "Odwalla," (proof, if needed, that the Ensemble could play "in the tradition" and not just so-called "free jazz") the audience had gone from enthusiastic to crazed and the roar that rose up after the AECO completed this mind-blowing concert is remarkable and spine-tingling.  It makes you wish you'd been there to experience the aural and visual spectacle and, 40 years later in a few weeks, it sounds fresh and not dated, at all.

Also surprising was the fact that this record was released on the major label, Atlantic, which was then making its greatest profits from the likes of Led Zeppelin, though there was an impresive jazz resume with the label, including with John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman recording for it in the late 50s and early 60s.  Michael Cuscuna, who had done a great deal of jazz production, was in the audience and convinced the label to release this album as an unedited whole, capturing the excitement and unpredictability of one of the best of all jazz ensembles.

The Art Ensemble of Chicago:  Bap-Tizum (Atlantic, 1973)

1.  Nfamousdou-Boudougou  4:16
2.  Immm  5:31
3.  Unanka  10:44
4.  Oouffnoon  3:25
5.  Ohnedaruth  15:00
6.  Odwalla  5:42

Music of the Whirling Dervishes

Ahmet Ertegun, the guiding force behind the massive success of Atlantic Records, hailed from Turkey and so the release in 1979 of Music of the Whirling Dervishes was a special project of his and no wonder.  This fascinating album contains 79 minutes of remarkable, spiritual, and majestic music recorded during a tour of the previous year that showcases the ecstatic dancing, chanting and instrumental performances embodying the mystical traditions of Sufi religious observances.

Vocalisations are followed by solo improvisatory performances on the ney, a flute-like instrument, and then ensemble pieces with ney, drums, singing and dancing.  Naturally, one who would have had to have been present at the live shows to observe and absorb the full effect of the combination of aural and visual presentations.

The tradition of whirling by the Mevlevi Sufis, drawing origins with Sunni Islam back to the amazing poetry of the great Jalal al-Din Muhammad Rumi, typically known simply as Rumi,  dates back seven hundred years or so and the ritual is an expression of faith augmented by music and vocals.  As the intensity of the music builds, so does the speed of the whirling which transports the participants into a trance state.  There are many parallels to this throughout the world, such as the phenomenal gnawa music of northwest Africa (to be covered soon here, as well,) where drums, handclaps, chanting and singing, and instrumental performances lead to a similar result.

The album begins with a eulogy of twelve and a half minutes, which has a beautiful haunting quality, especially with the advanced quality of the recording.  This atmosphere is enhanced by the ten-minute improvisation that follows, which sets the stage for an instrumental performance called "Pesrev" by the ensemble. 

After a very short ney improvisation of a half minute, the centerpiece comes with the performance of a nearly 33-minute rendition of "Ayin-I Sharif," or the "Blessed Ceremony," including the instrumental and vocal ensembles and the whirling dervishes, dressed in white tunics with skirts that flow gracefully during the continuous turning.  Atop their heads are the distinctive conical hats with flat tops that can be discerned on the cover art shown here. 

As the music builds, the slow movement, with the heads of the participants tilted slightly, grows faster and the individual is both in communal and personal ecstatic connections with their faith.  The individuals move counter-clockwise, with the left hand down toward the earth and the right held aloft as the dervishes reflect the desire for communion, in a uplifting of the soul, with Allah but also balance these aspirations with the spiritual connection to the earth.

Again, the listener can hear the buildup of the music and only imagine the corresponding movement of the dervishes, but to witness the growing speed and grace of the combination must have been a striking and affecting experience and one wonders if the half hour seemed much less.

After another short ney improvisation, a recitation of about three minutes duration from the Koran concludes the ceremony.  A final ney piece of over ten minutes rounds out the record, which is a ritual spiritual journey for the Mevlevi, but a journey of wonder for the observer and listener.  The Music of the Whirling Dervishes is an exciting album that shows that music can be a vehicle for spiritual ascendancy but also an ecumenical appreciation that transcends human differences, especially in this era of politicized religious divisiveness.

The Music of the Whirling Dervishes (Atlantic, 1979, CD version 1987)

1.  Naat-I Mevlana    12:36
2.  Ney Taksimi  10:16
3.  Persev  7:32
4.  Ney Taksimi   :33
     Ayin-I Serif, part 1  9:23
5.  Ayin-I Serif, part 2  23:26
     Ney Taksimi  1:36
6.  Kuran-I Kerim  3:19
7.  Ney Taksimi  10:23