John Coltrane: Live in Japan

In July 1966, a year before his far-too-early death at age 40, John Coltrane and his quintet toured Japan amid a period of American turmoil.  The escalation of the Vietnam War, riots at Watts in Los Angeles the prior summer, the assassination of Malcolm X earlier in 1965, and the much else marked the period.  In jazz, a tumult was at hand, as well, as so-called "free" jazz arose to the consternation of critics and the horror of traditionalists, while the rise of rock, soul and R&B music were of great concern, as well.

For John Coltrane, who released his masterpiece, A Love Supreme, at the dawn of 1965 and who was one of the most popular jazz musician of his era, his relentless search for expression led him to move further away from more standard forms of harmony, rhythm and melody.  Later that year, he recorded the astounding Ascension, which confounded many fans, as well as critics, but which is a powerful testament to his current musical calling and evocative of Ornette Coleman's large-ensemble masterwork, Free Jazz, from five years earlier.

Towards the end of the year, Coltrane recorded Meditations, which may be seen as an extension of A Love Supreme, but in a far more intense, open and relentlessly searching manner, with the softer "Love" and "Serenity" contrasted with such searing performances as the awesome "The Father, The Son and The Holy Ghost" and the excoriating "Consequences."  1965 was also the year when his famed Classic Quartet with pianist McCoy Tyner, drummer Elvin Jones and bassist Jimmy Garrison was pushed to its limits and then dissolved.

Jones was the first to go, unable to accept the changes that affected his inimitable style, while Tyner was increasingly concerned, as well, about his place and departed not long after.  Garrison remained as the solid grounding force of what was expanding mightily in sound, thanks to the continued presence of Pharoah Sanders and his shrieking and keening saxophone playing juxtaposed to the leader's performances and the additions of Coltrane's wife, Alice, and her stunning exploratory piano work, very different from that of Tyner, and drummer Rashied Ali, whose work fit in extremely well with the new direction.

Recorded at a pair of Tokyo dates on 11 and 22 July, the four-disc Live in Japan  (only one disc of which was previously released in 1973 as a double LP) tests the limits of the listener on every level.  First, the shortest of the half-dozen pieces on three discs is 25 minutes with the longest approaching an hour.  Those used to hearing symphonies or Indian ragas, for example, may have no issue with this at all, but it is more the sonic openness and freedom that is, perhaps, the greater challenge.  As noted above, typical ideas of melodic expression, rhythmic underpinnings and harmony among the ensemble are deconstructed and refashioned.

The sheer intensity and power of these performances can be overwhelming, even though there are moments of calm and reflection, and coruscating solos, filled with microphonics and overtones, by Coltrane and Sanders are countered by the expansive, shimmering and swirling solos of Alice Coltrane.  Garrison, as always, holds down the bottom with precision and power and, for those who take the time to list, solos to open "Crescent" with innovation and invention.  Ali's endurance is truly remarkable as he makes incredible use of his kit through these lengthy and dense pieces and his solo on "Leo" is awesome.

The two versions of "Peace on Earth" are the most ballad-like and especially powerful given the war in Vietnam and the fact that it was just two decades after America's atomic bomb attacks on Japan.  "Leo" is especially intense and any expectation (as with 1966's Live at the Village Vanguard Again) that the signature "My Favorite Things" will be anything like the hit 1960 recorded version is soon dashed by the complete reworking of the standard.

This was purchased new in 1991 and memories are very clear of sitting on an apartment balcony and taking this in through several dedicated listening sessions.  Coltrane was a near-obsession, starting the prior year with, of course, the My Favorite Things record but including his freer work, and Live in Japan is perhaps the most daunting listening experience on multiple levels, but highly rewarding at the end of some four hours of among the most intense and immersive music out there (and "out there" is meant literally!)

Pharoah Sanders: Tauhid

Another master musician has left us with the death of the great saxophonist Pharoah Sanders last Saturday at age 81.  He was best known for his upper register screaming when he joined John Coltrane's band in 1965 and he definitely divided listeners who either hated the "shrill tones" or were enthralled by the sheer passion he generated.

Coltrane was obviously wanting a counterpoint to his own playing, which was becoming increasingly "avant garde" as he entered the last few years of his all-too-short life.  In some ways, Sanders provided much the same role that Eric Dolphy had in his short tenure in 1961, though the groundswell of intense negative criticism that the amazing Dolphy faced was more muted because, by 1965, change was clearly coming.

Championed by Coltrane, Sanders was given a contract with Impulse! and he recorded a string of always-interesting albums in the late 1960s and early 1970s, even as they went into the far reaches of jazz at a time when the genre lost a great many listeners.  Sanders' music changed, as to be expected, over subsequent years, but one of my all-time favorite albums was when uber-producer and bassist Bill Laswell brought in Sanders to play on the phenomenal Sonny Sharrock recording, Ask the Ages (1991), with the saxophonist playing with the searing passion not heard for a long time.

I had the opportunity to see Sanders play live in the Nineties at the original Catalina Bar and Grill in Hollywood and was really grateful that I had the chance to hear him.  The featured album for this post is his first Impulse! set, Tauhid, recorded in November 1966 and released early the following year, not long before Coltrane's death.

It is, as all of Sanders' recordings were then, heavily spiritual and full of diversity in conception and playing, with the stunning "Upper Egypt & Lower Egypt," the brief but beautiful "Japan," (inspired by the 1966 tour of that nation by the Coltrane ensemble) and the remarkable three-part suite, "Aum," "Venus," and "Capricorn Rising."  The musicians include Sharrock, in one of his first recordings before he left music and then was found by Laswell and his career resurrected in spectacular fashion; the sensitive and understated Dave Burrell on piano; the underappreciated Henry Grimes on bass; drummer Roger Blank; and percussionist Nat Bettis, whose colorations really help flesh out much of this recording.

We're seeing so many great musicians departing and, while this is always saddening, the consolation, of course, is that we can revisit the amazing work they produced and with the sublime Pharoah Sanders, there is so much to enjoy and appreciate.  May he rest in peace!

Archie Shepp: Attica Blues

After delivering some of the greatest jazz records of the middle sixties and then spending some time in Paris at the end of that decade and the beginning of the Seventies, Archie Shepp returned to America and retooled his compelling music for larger ensembles and with a nod to the funk, soul and R&B that had been taking a lot of the younger audiences away from jazz.

It would be easy to "sell out" in that kind of context, but Shepp used his leadership skills, his strong political bent, and his move to large ensemble playing to great effect, especially on a classic album like Attica Blues.

Recorded in late January 1972, just after the ferment that resulted from the riot in Attica State Penitentiary in New York, the album opens with the staggeringly funky title track with some of the most soulful singing you'll ever hear from the amazing Joshie Armstead.

The two-part "Steam" begins with a languid, flowing ballad with strings that is a direct contrast in style to the title track and then takes on a harder, stronger edge in its concluding section, but Joe Lee Wilson, who recorded three albums with Shepp during 1971-72, is highly effective in his soulful vocalizing.

"Blues for Brother George Jackson" was dedicated to the controversial Black Panther figure who was sent to prison for stealing $70 in an armed robbery in 1961 and joined the black nationalist party while incarcerated.  Jackson was killed in August 1971 trying to lead an escape before his trial for the slaying the prior year of a prison guard was slated to begin.  This tune, however, reflects a sophisticated, cool atmosphere, rather than anything that might evoke anger or other harder emotions.  Particularly compelling is the percussion which percolates beneath the horns with great effectiveness.

Another languid and gorgeous tune is "Ballad for a Child," with a great vocal from Armstead riding over a background of strings.  This is followed by another string-laden highlight, "Good-Bye, Sweet Pops," by the fluegelhorn player and composer Cal Massey.  This tribute to Louis Armstrong, who died in 1971, is a great example of ensemble writing and playing.

Massey's "Quiet Dawn" has another great multi-layered sound for a larger ensemble and some listeners would probably be put off by the vocalizing of Massey's young daughter, Waheeda (probably not unlike Ornette Coleman's son Denardo playing drums on 1966's The Empty Foxhole?).  This listener finds the singing beguiling and assumes that using her was a way at getting to an innocence and wonder that the tune looks to bring forward.  Shepp has a nice solo with a great driving accompaniment during the tune, which has tended to grow on this blogger over time.

Attica Blues is a diverse record, showing Archie Shepp's ability to express his musical (and political) ideas across a broad musical spectrum.  There are a number of great musicians on this record, including the leader, Massey, bassist Jimmy Garrison, Marion Brown on alto sax, violinist Leroy Jenkins, pianist Dave Burrell, drummers Billy Higgins and Beaver Harris (who wrote two of the pieces alone and contributed two others with Shepp), and others.

Worth hearing just for the phenomenal title track alone, the record has a lot of other highlights and is well worth a listen.

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.

John Coltrane: Crescent

It's hard to argue with the oft-stated view that the pinnacle of the amazing John Coltrane's recorded work came with two classic albums recorded in 1964.  At the end of the year was the masterpiece A Love Supreme, covered here previously.  Earlier was the majestic Crescent, recorded on 27 April and 1 June, and reflecting the telepathic relationship of the leader with his remarkable band members, including pianist McCoy Tyner, drummer Elvin Jones, and bassist Jimmy Garrison.

The record is built around three pieces showing a highly reflecting, ruminative and meditative side to Coltrane that had been heard before but reached its apex on this album.  Trane's solos are phenomenal, as are those of Tyner, and the rhythm section of Garrison and Jones hold everything together for the soloists to build from.

The title piece is driven by the leader's keening and emotive statement of the gorgeous melody with Tyner accompanying simply but beautifully, while Jones employs long rolls and uses splashes of cymbals to great effect.  After about a minute and a half, a steady rhythm ensues and Coltrane soloes with economy and emotion, though there are moments where he employs overtones and cycles of repetitive notes that hint at the freer forms he moved into the next year.

"Wise One" starts with a gorgeous opening by Tyner before Coltrane comes in with a mournful and memorable melody accompanied by Jones' exclusive and excellent use of cymbal patterns.  At about three minutes in, a Latin-like rhythmic pattern comes in and Tyner soloes sensationally by keeping things simple and subdued.  At 4:45 or so, Coltrane comes in with perfect timing and keeps the mood Tyner had established--for a while.  He builds up gradually and increases the speed and intensity over his solo, while Jones focuses mainly on the cymbals for his rhythm, rather than the bass drum or snare.  Garrison, all the while, holds down the bottom end solidly and basically.

"Bessie's Blues" can be heard as an aberration, being a playful midtempo blues with a sparkling Tyner solo being the highlight and Coltrane using some overtones on his solo while Tyner lays out, but it might also be thought of as a nice break between the subdued, but substantial and sublime tracks that form the core of the album.

The third piece of that core is the lengthier and pretty "Lonnie's Lament," where Coltrane states the theme to Tyner's impressive filigreed backing and more of Jones' fine cymbal touches before the band comes in to a steady rhythm, highlighted by Garrison's stronger presence here than on portions of the album.

Tyner soloes first and is wonderfully restrained with his notes cascading sometimes like raindrops (you can almost imagine a scene in which it is raining while the song is playing) and other times his trademark block chords drive his work.  It is really a spectacular piece of work from one of the great pianists in jazz and who was truly coming into his own at age 26 as a leader as well as Coltrane's sideman.

A little after six minutes, Garrison comes in for his only solo of the record.  It's become commonplace for people to groan whenever a jazz bassist soloes, which is really a shame, because Garrison was one of the best.  His playing is always of interest in terms of dynamics, tone, strength and melodic statement.  This performance is a reminder of his immense talent.

Towards the end, Trane comes in to restate the theme and take the piece out--a generous display by the leader to allow two of his compatriots the opportunity to show the best of their art.

Which leads to the showcase for the third of his band members:  the closer is a Jones highlight called, naturally, "The Drum Thing,"  Notably, though, this track isn't just a centerpiece of the speed and power for which Jones was justly famed, but because his polyrhythmic skills are displayed fully here.

Jones starts off with a muted rumble of his drums and Garrison playing a simple twice-repeated riff of the same note while Trane plays a simple melody that is attractive on its own terms.  Then, the masterful drummer launches into his staggering solo, thundering, rumbling, pounding with total discipline and yet sounding like several percussionists at the same time.  It's not that there aren't plenty of other masterful solos in Jones' recorded catalog, but this one has a sense of restraint even amongst the power, speed and intensity that sets it apart.  This is a great close to a fantastic album.

Amazingly, the Coltrane quartet came back at the end of 1964 with something even better.  The fact that A Love Supreme was released not long after Crescent has, perhaps, overshadowed the latter.  However, Crescent is a landmark album and was something of an encapsulation and summation of what made the Quartet such a special band.  This was perfected on A Love Supreme but that shouldn't diminish the achievement of its predecessor.

The photo of Coltrane is from the 8-disc The Classic Quartet—Complete Impulse! Studio Recordings set issued in 1998.

Archie Shepp: Four for Trane

Tenor saxophonist Archie Shepp's Fire Music was highlighted here before, as the first Shepp recording this blogger heard back in the early Nineties.  The predecessor and the leader's first recording for the Impulse label paid homage to John Coltrane, Shepp's supporter who lobbied hard to have the label sign the young firebrand.  To date, Shepp had played for a period with Cecil Taylor and recorded with Don Cherry, formerly with Ornette Coleman, and others in the New York Contemporary Five.

Four for Trane was not only a tribute to the jazz giant who got him signed to a major jazz label, but a way for Shepp to combine his deep blues feel with a very fine band and the arranging abilities of trombonist Roswell Rudd, who worked frequently with Shepp in the 60s.  The title directly refers to four of Coltrane's pieces covered by the band and this was a smart move by the leader, because it was said to producer Bob Thiele had to really be convinced by Trane to sign and work with Shepp.  This album rewarded Coltrane's persistence.

The opening track "Syeeda's Song Flute" is something else--Rudd's complex and rich arrangement shone through beautifully, as it does on the gorgeous "Naima," one of Trane's greatest compositions.  The way the various horns engage in interplay on both pieces, but especially on the intro to "Naima" is something to behold and it's a shame Rudd didn't get more credit for his arranging work.  Moreover, the other two tunes, "Mr. Syms" and "Cousin Mary" are also solid blues pieces and they provide apt forums for Shepp's earthy and raw playing to their best advantage.

Also a standout throughout this recording is the underappreciated altoist John Tchicai, a half-African, half-Danish player, who performed with Shepp in the New York Contemporary Five and went on to work on Coltrane's free ensemble album, Ascension.  Rudd also plays well and his instrument proved to be an interesting counterpoint to the saxes in the septet.  Trumpeter Alan Shorter, brother of the famed tenor player Wayne Shorter, then just getting his name recognition going with the Miles Davis Quintet, doesn't get that much opportunity to solo.

It's the rhythm section that also gets tremendous credit for holding down the bottom and keeping things truly swinging on this album.  Bassist Reggie Workman had played with Coltrane a number of times and was a very reliable, supple and flexible player behind the band.  Drummer Charles Moffett would go on to achieve his best-known work with Ornette Coleman with the great recordings in Copenhagen in 1966 in the two-disc Golden Circle albums already featured here and others.  His timekeeping is relentlessly sure and confident and he and Workman team up beautifully.

The one Shepp original is the provocatively-titled "Rufus (Swung, his face at last to the wind, then his neck snapped)," a tune that appeared later on a Coltrane/Shepp album recorded at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1965.  Tchicai plays fantastically on the opening solo and Shepp comes in with his distinctive earthiness for some excellent interplay and then his own solo, while Workman and Moffett keep things moving with great efficiency and verve.  In a way, "Rufus" was an announcement that, after the fine covers that started the album, Shepp was a fresh, new and exciting voice in the so-called "New Thing" or "Avant-Garde" that was sweeping through jazz in the Sixties.

Shepp followed this record with Fire Music and another excellent album, Mama Too Tight, which will also be featured here in the future.  He spent some time in France recording there at the end of the sixties before returning to America and more Impulse albums.  As jazz continued to decline in popularity, so Shepp's profile dimmed, but he has continued to make excellent music over the years, including a duet album with Dollar Brand that will make an appearance here someday.  He is still with us, as are Workman and Rudd, and Four For Trane is definitely a highlight of his long, interesting and under-recognized career.

John Coltrane: Live at Birdland

The death of Amiri Baraka (formerly LeRoi Jones) a few days back was a good time to reflect on the remarkable and controversial ferment that erupted in the 1960s over black militancy, so-called free jazz, battles between jazz critics and writers, and a host of other issues.

Just last year, this blogger read Jones' ground-breaking and provocative work, Blues People, which was the first work by a black person to look at the history of jazz music, but also seeking to place that in the context of the history of black Americans as oppressed peoples expressing themselves through a music they created, despite all of the obstacles in their way.  This isn't a place to discuss the book, necessarily, certainly not to review it--there's plenty of material out there to search out for that.

But, whatever one thinks of the man who made a strikingly radical transformation from LeRoi Jones to Amiri Baraka in 1965, after the assassination of Malcolm X and of Medger Evers and other events, and continued to provoke and be the subject of controversy for decades afterward, this seemed a good time to commemorate the man via his contribution to the liner notes of John Coltrane's 1963 album Live at Birdland.

Which album is many things, actually, not always consistently expressed.  For example, while the first half of the record is comprised of three pieces from a performance at the famed New York club on 8 October 1963, the second portion is from three works recorded in the studio in March and November of that year.  The performance at Birdland also captured the return to the classic Coltrane quartet of drummer Elvin Jones, who had spent time in prison on a drug charge.  Finally, the album closed a chapter in Coltrane's career that was marked by critical tumult and a carefully crafted program by Coltrane's savvy producer, Bob Thiele, to blunt the criticism with a trio of recordings.

In essence, the problem was the jazz was changing from years of hard-bop orthodoxy to a freer conception as embodied in the work of Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman, Eric Dolphy, Coltrane and others.  Those critics who were aghast at the move (some of whom, in fact, championed bop when it was new in the late 1940s versus the so-called "moldy figs" who had promoted big band and swing) came out forcefully against the "free jazz" musicians. 

In Coltrane's case, he was labeled as promoting "anti-jazz" because the work he was performing in 1961 with Dolphy was a sea change from the hard bop sound that predominated before and which was featured on the Live at the Village Vanguard album and, in particular, the leader's showcase, "Chasin' the Trane," which didn't even feature Dolphy (yet, this sadly underappreciated multi-instrumentalist was put through the wringer nonetheless.)

While Coltrane claimed that the abrupt change in direction that followed 1962's excellent Coltrane recording was due to a faulty reed on his sax and teeth problems, Thiele revealed that he deliberately drew Coltrane towards ballads and more melodic music to counter the raging critics and give the saxophonist a forum for demonstrating his amazing gifts in those settings. 

What followed were collaborations with the legendary Duke Ellington, the smooth, silky singer Johnny Hartman, and an album of standards, simply called Ballads.  These albums are usually bypassed when people talk about Coltrane's body of work, but there is much to recommend them.  This is especially true when hearing how Coltrane accompanies and complements Ellington and Hartman and to hear how truly integrated that classic quartet of Jones, bassist Jimmy Garrison and pianist McCoy Tyner were.  They all proved to be tremendous with ballads and contemplative material, not just with the up-tempo and powerhouse works that the band had been singled out for by those contentious critics.

In any case, Live at Birdland marked the end of that phase, yet provided examples (as really, all Coltrane records had to date, anyway, despite the critical carping) of how the band could really cook and sizzle and then settle into beautiful melodies and mellow moods on a dime.

The record also captured the obvious joy with which Jones expressed himself after leaving federal prison and releasing his pent-up energies (energy never being a problem with the protean percussionist anyway!)  The opener, "Afro-Blue," a concert favorite for Coltrane, but never recorded in the studio, has excellent playing by the leader as well as Tyner and Garrison, but Jones is front and center here, by a country mile.  He thunders, crashes, rolls and roars through this tune like a veritable force of nature. 

While this blogger was flabbergasted by the performance and can vividly remember hearing Jones blasting through the piece when first hearing this tune on vinyl, circa 1990, and, in fact, smiling and appreciatively calling out the drummer's name through virtually the whole thing, it can be readily understood if the playing was too propulsive, too powerful and so overwhelming that it sacrificed the ensemble for the sheer joy and relief of Jones being free to play after months behind bars.

Which is all the reason to be understanding of where Jones was (which, certainly, the band and the audience were) at that moment and appreciate that the performance was, indeed, a reflection of joy and relief.  In any case, it's a wild ride, still raising hair on the back of the neck and bumps on the skin after many listens and almost a quarter century after first hearing.

Then comes "I Want to Talk About You," beautifully played by the ensemble and with Jones sensitively accompanying and not at all playing too hard.  The piece is played almost as per usual (it was another popular repertoire piece for the band) until Coltrane goes off into a phenomenal unaccompanied solo.  This solo, to this listener, is on a par with "Chasin' the Trane," but didn't have the impact and drama of having something like this done the first time, as was the case of the other work.  Still, the performance is terrific, with Coltrane exploring variation and variation and demonstrated masterful technique, invention, and soulfulness.

After these two pieces, "The Promise," another 8-minute tune, doesn't get as much attention, but the theme is excellent and there is a strong swinging accompaniment by the band behind Trane's tenor.  Tyner performs a stellar lengthy solo, anchored by his trademark strong block chords with the left hand, and Jones percolates, keeps strong time with the cymbals, and hums along enthusiastically, while increasing his intensity towards the end to drive things along.  Garrison is steady, as always, holding down the bottom with his usual aplomb.  Then, Trane comes swooping in with his top-flight solo that is thrilling with its higher-end note flourishes and runs (one can hear on this song why the soprano wound up becoming so important to Trane in terms of finding higher notes to play) and, after restating the theme, the band goes out with a flourish.

Of the two studio pieces, "Alabama" is flat-out one of Coltrane's masterpieces.  A solemn remembrance of the horrific Montgomery church bombing the claimed the lives of several young black girls who should have been safe in the sanctuary of a holy place, the piece has a rich and powerful theme, evocative of the thoughtlessness of the terrorist act performed by white supremacists, played over Tyner's simple repetitive phrase and what may be Garrison's bowing on the bass. 

Then, about 1:45 in, the piece transitions to a mid-tempo blues, almost as if suggesting the resilience that the blues has always symbolized in the lives of black Americans.  After another minute, the theme returns and Jones' mallets add weight and dignity to the sound as the tune comes to a close with the tenor taking the ending to higher scales on his instrument and ending the piece beautifully.   Coltrane would further develop the structure of "Alabama" in classic pieces in the great Crescent album and on the masterpiece A Love Supreme during 1964.  But, "Alabama" stands on its own as one of the great pieces in music, period.

"Your Lady" comes in with a nice Garrison line and Jones' always present swinging and "polyrhythms" before Trane's lyrical theme comes in, much like other, somewhat like "The Inch Worm" from the Coltrane album, at least to this listener.  The keening, soaring sound of the tenor is another excellent example of the leader's peerless playing, especially some great runs about 4 minutes in.  And, as always, Jones is there to propel the piece with his driving and penetrating style.

Finally, there is a bonus track on the CD version called "Vilia," a reworking of a standard that seems a little out of place, like "Bessie's Blues" on the otherwise meditative and somber Crescent.  It's bright and it swings, especially during Tyner's fine solo when Garrison and Jones are in a beautiful groove.  After Coltrane solos, the song seems to come to an abrupt end, for which there may have been a reason.  In any case, it's a bonus and that Tyner solo part is quite good.

As for LeRoi Jones, he starts his notes provocatively with, "One of the most baffling things about America is that despite its essentially vile profile, so much beauty continues to exist here."  Jones, as many have done, equates the nightclub as a microcosm of vileness and the playing of a master as the beauty.  And, then Jones offers that "his music is one of the reasons suicide seems so boring!"

It is cool to read Jones describing Elvin's playing as a "mad ritual drama" that taunts the other musicians, as it is that LeRoi "got up and danced while writing these notes, screaming at Elvin to cool it," a sentiment shared to some degree by this blogger, except that asking Elvin to hold back was not among the thoughts.

Jones also utters an unexpected paean to the name of the state of Alabama, observing that "I didn't realize what a beautiful word Alabama is."  Continuing that Thiele asked Coltrane if the title "had any significance to today's problems," the leader didn't address the bombings (which might, perhaps, have opened up to further critical commentary?) with directness, stating that "it represents, musically, something that I saw down there translated into music from inside me."

Finally, Jones does not that, actually, "all the music on this album is Live, whether it was recorded above drinking and talk at Birdland, [or] in the studio," which is true, except, perhaps, that the atmosphere in each are entirely different and the results could be accordingly.  But, the essayist concludes in another cool evocation:  "this music will make you think of a lot of weird and wonderful things.  You might even become one of them."

Amen to that and may LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka, for all of the controversy and the directness and the penetration and the evocation, rest in peace.  Whatever one thinks of him and this blogger is ambivalent, for sure, he encouraged honest and critical thinking and the fact that he dug Coltrane and the quartet and this album as much as he did is worth celebrating on its own terms.

John Coltrane:  Live at Birdland (Impulse Records, 1963, 1996)

1.  Afro-Blue  10:53
2.  I Want to Talk About You  8:11
3.  The Promise  8:06
4.  Alabama  5:08
5.  Your Lady  6:39
6.  Vilia  4:36

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.

John Coltrane: Africa/Brass, Volumes 1 & 2

Obviously, Trane's Giant Steps needs to be covered here as his greatest early recording, with Blue Train not far behind, but there was something really eye-opening back in 1990 hearing the incredible tune "Africa" from the saxophonist's first Impulse! album, Africa/Brass.

It was first the amazing opening with the emulation of animal and other sounds by a host of instruments played by some of the leading lights of late 50s and early 60s jazz.  These include Booker Little, whose death of uremia at age 23 took away someone who could have been a true legend and the versatile Freddie Hubbard on trumpets; the trombonists Charles Greenlee and Julian Priester, the latter a member of Sun Ra's underappreciated band; and the man who arranged it all, the alto sax and bass clarinet master Eric Dolphy.

Beyond these excellent players, there was the phenomenal rhythm section of pianist McCoy Tyner, bassists Paul Chambers, who'd worked with Trane in the great Miles Davis Quintet, and Reggie Workman, and, of course, the sublime Elvin Jones, one of the few drummers whose power and flexibility could work so well with such a large ensemble.

Trane's solo work on "Africa" is also pretty spectacular and, along with "India," demonstrated a palpable shift in his moving away from the so-called "sheets of sound" to something more exploratory of the broader potential of sound on his instrument rather than speedy runs on the changes that characterized his work up to about 1960.  The piece was recorded on either 4 June, according to the original album notes, or the 7th, as indicated in the liners for the second volume of recordings from the sessions. 

More importantly, "Africa" and "India" were concerted efforts at delving into sounds that evoked the music of non-Western cultures, reflecting Coltrane's growing interests in African, Indian and Middle Eastern sounds.

After his great success with "My Favorite Things" the year prior, Coltrane tried other popular tunes on which to work his modal magic on soprano sax and the attempt here was with the venerable "Greensleeves."  While the recording is usually regarded as an inferior one to "MFT," this blogger finds the piece not comparable and the ensemble does a fine job with it.  "Blues Minor" is just that and it is well played.  Both were recorded on 23 May 1961, two days before Trane recorded his final album for Atlantic, Olé, which also featured Dolphy.

In 1974, with the supervision of Coltrane's widow, Alice, a second volume of recordings from the original 1961 sessions was released.  Alternate versions of "Africa" and "Greensleeves" were accompanied by another traditional tune, arranged by the leader, this being "Song of the Underground Railroad."  While the latter two were recorded on 23 May with other selections from the first recording, the version of "Africa" was from 7 June and had an expanded orchestra conducted by Dolphy and including trombonist Britt Woodman (instead of Priester); four French horn players; a euphonium; tuba player Bill Barber, who had played with Miles Davis' so-called "Birth of the Cool" project a dozen years before; and Pat Patrick on a variety of reeds.  Instead of Paul Chambers, this session featured another solid bassist, Art Davis.

While the versions of "Africa" and "Greensleeves" may not be superior to the original released versions, it is interesting to hear the difference with the additional instrumentation, while "Song of the Underground Railroad" is another solid rendering.  In all three cases, Dolphy's different approaches to orchestration are indicative of his ability to experiment successfully with unusual instrument groupings and his strong sense of dynamics.

Dolphy's association with Coltrane was highly controversial at the time, for reasons which seem petty and trivial now, but, in light of the massive changes enveloping jazz as it moved from a primarily "hard bop" sound to the freer expressions wrought by Trane, Ornette Coleman and Cecil Taylor, among others, there was a genuine fear that the music was being pulled into chaotic waters. 

While Dolphy continued to experiment and extend his ideas further "out," albeit with less visibility than he had with Trane, the latter, in fact, soon moved into a period of recording that seemed calculated to prove that he could play in "traditional" ways, recording with the great Duke Ellington and with smooth as silk vocalist Johnny Hartman, as well as issuing an album of ballads.  Not until 1965 did Coltrane decide to let loose the reins and move into so-called "free jazz."

Perhaps Africa/Brass could be viewed as an early effort by Trane to take the music into a transitional zone, not too far removed from either the "standard" boppish sounds of the fifties or the freer work that was to dominate the sixties.  In "Africa," he and Dolphy created a sound that was eminently successful, while the other pieces on both volumes may not be quite so because they used the orchestration as coloration, rather than as a vital and integral part of the atmosphere of the tune as in "Africa."

In any case, this recording was an unusual way for Coltrane to launch his association with the fledgling Impulse! label, which, however, got a reputation for new, innovative music.  Africa/Brass went a long way towards heightening that feeling and for helping to make the label a standard bearer for newer forms of jazz that were, more or less, defining the new decade.

Alice Coltrane: Ptah, the El Daoud

Pianist and harpist Alice Coltrane has often been overlooked and overshadowed by the massive presence and legacy of her husband John Coltrane, but in the decade after the latter's death in July 1967, she produced a body of work that stands on its own as among the best in American music, much less jazz.

Born Alice MacLeod in Detroit in 1937, Coltrane played in a club in Paris and studied there with the great Bud Powell.  She also was an excellent vibraphonist and first gained notice in the Terry Gibbs band in the early 1960s.  Briefly married to singer Kenny Hagood, perhaps best known for his vocals on the Birth of the Cool recordings led by Miles Davis in the late 1940s, she had a daughter, Michelle, with him, but the marriage soon ended.

Not long after meeting John Coltrane, Alice married him and the couple had three sons in short order and John adopted Michelle.  Then, at the end of 1965, when McCoy Tyner left John's band, Alice stepped in as pianist and immediately gave the band a different feel and presence from Tyner's strong block-chord style to a more flowing and delicate way of playing.

A devotee of Hinduism, Coltrane gradually moved closer to an all-encompasing devotion to her music that promoted those religious concerns, but for several years she produced recordings that blended those elements with excellent jazz components, creating a unique hybrid, even for that experimental era.

The high point might well be her 1970 album, Ptah, the El Daoud.  The title seems awfully dated, but the music hardly is.  Regarding that title, Coltrane offered the explanation that "Ptah" is an Egyptian god, who was "one of the highest aspects of God.  The reference to "El Daoud" deals with "the Beloved" and her use of it manifested a desire "to express and bring out a feeling of purification."

The title track begins with a steady march-like statement from the incomparable Ron Carter, who is best known for his years as a member of the Miles Davis Quintet from 1963 to 1968.  Coltrane's piano and Ben Riley's drums then enter to establish the steady rhythm.  Solos come from the dual horn section of Joe Henderson, always rock solid on the tenor and who was given the left channel throughout the recording, and Pharoah Sanders, also on tenor and on the right channel.  Sanders was a member, with Coltrane, in her husband's last group in 1966 and 1967, when his music became its most experimental and adventurous.

Coltrane's piano playing, heavily in the modal framework, is light-fingered, fluid and permeating, reminding this listener of how drummer Roy Haynes would play.  The pulse is not strong or powerful, but steady, persistent, rhythmic and melodic.  It is also highly distinctive.  Being one of the very few women instrumentalists to have a significant body of work, Coltrane created a way of playing that always impresses, without being overly flashy and showy.

In fact, her playing on the second track, "Turiya and Ramakrishna," is gorgeous, bluesy and soulful, sensitively accompanied by Riley's excellent brush work and Carter's higher register playing.  Absent are Henderson and Sanders and this is Coltrane's showcase.  Again, she plays with great feeling, fantastic control and fluidity and no bluster and Carter's solo is the embodiment of tastefulness and faithfulness to the tune.

"Blue Nile" then features Coltrane on the harp, on which instrument she masterfully plays while Henderson and Sanders provide a solid flute accompaniment.   Again, Carter proves to be so adept at placing the right notes in the perfect spots during the course of the piece.  This meditative piece manages to evoke real spirituality while keeping a steady jazz rhythm.

"Mantra" then passes the baton onto the horn players, who play their solos, but also intertwine their playing in an interesting, complementary and compelling way.  The lengthy piece gives Henderson and Sanders plenty of room to demonstrate their ample talents and Sanders especially shows that his playing could be a lot more bluesy, soulful than he was known for earlier when his multiphonics and extreme upper register blowing got plenty of notoriety with John Coltrane's band.

Ptah, the El Daoud is a distinguished record from a great bandleader, a woman who maintained a high standard of performance when women rarely had the opportunity to be leaders.  With excellent support from Sanders, Henderson, Carter and Riley, Coltrane created a masterpiece with this record.

Alice Coltrane:  Ptah, the El Daoud (Impulse, 1970)

1.  Ptah, the El Daoud  13:58
2.  Turiya and Ramakrishna  8:19
3.  Blue Nile  6:58
4.  Mantra  16:33

The Major Works of John Coltrane

Admittedly a strange title considering the great tenor saxophonist had so many other "major works," the two-disc The Major Works of John Coltrane was issued by GRP Records in 1992 with a fascinating selection of recordings made between late June and mid October 1965, when Trane pushed beyond the modal framework that yielded such classic records as A Love Supreme and Crescent and took his music into a freer, more experimental direction.

The epitome of this was the mindblowing Ascension, which was recorded in two takes on 28 June with his classic quartet of McCoy Tyner (piano), Jimmy Garrison (bass) and Elvin Jones (drums) and added seven other musicians, including tenor sax players Archie Shepp and Pharoah Sanders, altoists John Tchicai and Marion Brown, trumpeters Freddie Hubbard and Dewey Johnson and bassist Art Davis.  The first, slightly shorter at 38 1/2 minutes, version, called Edition I, was released first, before Coltrane, insisting that the other take, marked as Edition II and lasting two minutes longer, was the master and so a reissue had to be undertaken.

Clearly influenced by Ornette Coleman's 1960 epic, Free Jazz, Coltrane presented his musicians with very little in the form of a head arrangement or instruction, preferring those assembled to work together to develop the piece, although there was a preestablished order of soloists that varied between the two editions.  As Brown expressed it in a quote in the liners: "Spontaneity was the thing.  Trane had obviously thought a lot about what he wanted to do, but he wrote most of it out in the studio."  Shepp commented that "the emphasis was on textures rather than the making of an organizational unity" or, rather, that there was unity, but of the texture and sound, not the structure.

The musicians were an interesting mix, with some like Shepp, Tchicai (an Afro-Dane who was relatively new in America, but had honed his craft in his native Denmark) and Sanders representing the so-called "New Thing" of experimenting musicians working in the "free" realm, while Hubbard and Davis had a more mainstream background.  Brown and Johnson were largely unknown.  And, of course, there were the three stalwarts that had performed with Coltrane for some three years with it being notable that there was not a second drummer brought in because of Jones' remarkable polyrhythmic abilities.

Ascension proved to be an apt title as the music rose in power and intensity throughout the piece, not just for the listener, but also for the musicians, as Brown remarked that "they both [the editions] had that kind of thing in them that makes people scream.  The people who were in the studio were screaming.  I don't know how the engineers kept the screams out of the record."  Now, for some listeners not attuned to freer music, the cacophony is likely enough to send them screaming out of the room or scrambling to hit "stop" on their player.

But, for those who enjoy experimental "free jazz," this can be a profoundly moving record, both in the dense ensemble sound, but the soloing, as well.  Shepp has the coruscating earthy tone, Sanders the screaming upper-register blasting, the leader playing in all manner of sound and texture, Tyner keeping things grounded as much as possible with his somewhat out-of-place piano, Hubbard hitting the high notes with a clear-toned trumpet, and Davis and Garrison using the different bowed and plucked aspects of the double bass, while Jones tries mightily to employ all the rhythmic wizardry he can with the intensity and variety in the room.

As was noted in an earlier post about Albert Ayler's music, the best way to listen to this music may be to follow the sounds and textures Shepp emphasized, rather than to intellectualize the structure.  In this sense, Ascension can be a powerful experience.

Probably the same listening advice can be given to the 29-minute Om, although that recording, done in suburban Seattle on 1 October, and released in 1967, has been accorded far less attention than Ascension.  It is far stranger and denser than the other and was put to tape while Coltrane and his quartet were on the road with two other musicians, including Donald Garrett on the bass clarinet, although on the recording he plays the bass, and Sanders on tenor.  For the recording of Om, flutist Joe Brazil was added. 

There was a more pronounced and experiemental nod to India here than the perhaps superficial use of scalar patterns used in India in the recordings at the Village Vanguard in late 1961.   Then again, Coltrane's music was delving deeper into broad religious contexts from A Love Supreme to Meditations, which was recorded almost two months after Om.  Indeed, a vocalization appears here, as well, as the leader and others (Sanders, perhaps) recite the phrase "Om mani padme hum," a Buddhist mantra with many meanings, although the liners choose, "Om, the jewel, is in the lotus, amen." 

It should be pointed out that the term "Om" has significance to Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism, so that it is a mystical sound in each and is used before and after reciting Hindu texts.  In the Jain religion, the term refers to the five-fold hierarchy of beings, including teachers, awakened beings, and liberated souls.

Regardless of the esoteric doctrinal applications of the phrase, the music in Om is primal, with animal sounds frequently issuing forth from the instruments, powerful with an even denser, cacophonous and intense wall of sound than that found in Ascension, though some of this is attributable to the studio and engineering, as the latter was recorded in the Rudy Van Gelder studio where the epitome of engineering expertise was to be found as opposed to the more pedestrian Camelot Studio in Lynwood, Washington, where Om was recorded.

Much has also been made of the possible (or likely?) influence of LSD at the Om session and it would certainly be easy to listen to the noises pouring forth from the speaker and conclude that the use of the drug was a guide to its otherwordly sound.  There is likely no way to know whether the stories are true and it may not matter.  Om, even with Ascension as an immediate precedent, has been a source of puzzlement and even derision unlike anything else in Coltrane's catalog, but this listener finds it fascinating.

The same applies to Kulu Se Mama, which was recorded in Los Angeles just about two weeks after Om.  There, while the Coltrane band was playing at the famed It Club, the leader met Juno Lewis, who hailed from New Orleans and who composed this piece which had vocals based on a poem Lewis said was in an Afro-Creole dialect called "Entobes."  Whatever validity there is in Lewis' stated associations, his voice and playing of various African derived percussion instruments, and Garrett's more prominent use of bass clarinet add new dimensions to Coltrane's evolving sound.  Kulu Se Mama has, over its 19 minute length, moments of exoticism that make for an interesting comparison to the earlier example of Africa from Trane's first Impulse! album in 1961.

In contrast to the other recordings on this set, Selflessness has more of the "traditional" compositional elements from Coltrane's earlier work, suffused, though, with the heavier textures brought in by the additional musicians and, most notably, by Sanders' intensely personal explorations of the upper reaches of the tenor's higher register, something he would bring to the fore in Meditations and the Live in Japan recordings later.  The 15-minute piece was released originally with tracks from a 1963 Newport Jazz Festival recording and probably seemed more in-place with that live performance than with the wild, restive recordings of a far more experimental Coltrane in mid-to-late 1965.

In any case, The Major Works of John Coltrane is a title that would raise the hackles of those who can argue, with some reason, that this term applies more to A Love Supreme, Crescent, Giant Steps, Blue Trane or My Favorite Things.  But, with the powerful and transportive Ascension at the helm and some curious, but compelling, works in Om and Kulu Se Mama, it is a very interesting set, using the CD technology to advantage for its long-form works, that has been played often in the twenty years since YHB picked it up.

The Major Works of John Coltrane (Impulse! GRP, 1992)

Disc One:

1.  Ascension (Edition I)  38:37
2.  Om  28:49

Disc Two:

1.  Ascension (Edition II)  40:31
2.  Kulu Se Mama  18:57
3.  Selflessnes  15:09

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.

For Fanatics Only? John Coltrane: The Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Recordings

Every so often, there'll be offerings under the heading "For Fanatics Only?", highlighting box sets that the casual listener or fan of a performer or group would not likely be interested in, but which a true fan-atic would probably appreciate.

The first of these covers a set that expands upon what is, after A Love Supreme my favorite John Coltrane recording.  The single album Live at the Village Vanguard, released in 1962, took three tracks from four nights of recording by notable engineer Rudy Van Gelder and became famous (or infamous) for the mind-boggling Chasin' the Trane, in which the legendary tenor and soprano saxophonist launched into a performance without a head arrangement or theme and proceeded to blow his way through nearly 16 minutes of stunning tenor sax playing, puncutated by phenomenal variations in color, tone and phrasing and presented with remarkable control.  Van Gelder remarked that he named the tune because he literally was "chasing" Coltrane with the recording equipment to capture the performance in highly challenging circumstances in a small, packed and oddly-shaped basement nightclub.

The other two tracks from the original album include the solemn and stately "Spiritual," in which Coltrane developed a theme from an old 19th-century gospel spiritual and used his soprano, as well as his tenor, to create beautiful and also heart-wrenching solos.  Trane's work is juxtaposed in interesting, if unusual ways, by the sinewy and twisting bass clarinet work of the sadly undervalued Eric Dolphy, who was making impressive and challenging music as a leader with Prestige Records (a Blue Note live album of Dolphy's has been featured on this blog already.)  Meanwhile, the standard "Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise" swings strongly, due in large measure to the stellar rhythm section of bassist Reggie Workman and drummer par excellence Elvin Jones, who works the brushes as well as anyone in jazz, and features excellent soloing from pianist McCoy Tyner.

In 1963, two more lengthy tracks formed the backbone of another album, Impressions.  The title track features the same chord sequence as the famed Miles Davis track "So What," a piece on which Coltrane performed from the popular and critcally-successful 1959 album Kind of Blue.  But, as all great artists do, Trane took the source material from a familiar environment and then transmuted it into something completely his own.  The other piece, however, is just as staggering.  "India," which in its modal form of playing, but also Trane's soprano sax playing, does evoke a broad feeling of Indian music and the musician had been listening to Indian classical music, as exemplified then by sitarist Ravi Shankar and sarod master Ali Akbar Khan (these two were also recently profiled on this blog for an album of their performances from the 1960s.)

Actually, in the early 1990s, an older woman I knew from work had heard that I'd become a Coltrane fan and, as her son worked for MCA Records, then owner of the Impulse! Records catalog, gave me two cassettes issued by MCA of highlights of Trane's Impulse work.  The tracks that drew my attention most were excerpts from A Love Supreme, the tremendous "Out of This World" from the eponymous 1962 album, "Chim Chim Cheree," from a 1965 record that features some of Trane's most powerful and impassioned soloing, "Africa" from his first Impulse album, the masterful Africa/Brass, and, finally, "India."

For the fanatics, though, 1997 brought the mother lode: the release of the 4CD box set, The Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Recordings.  Everything that had been recorded by Van Gelder on 1, 2, 3 and 5 November 1961 is here.  There are 22 tracks of 9 individual pieces, including four versions of "India" and "Spiritual", three of "Chasin' the Trane" [well, one is called "Chasin' Another Trane" and features a frequent collaborator on drums, the inimitable Roy Haynes], two of "Impressions," "Miles' Mode," "Naima," and the traditional "Greensleeves" and one each of "Softly" and "Brasilia," the latter not appearing on record until the same 1965 album that featured "Chim Chim Cheree."

Trane was in an interesting experimental mode, not just by having Dolphy appear on several tracks, especially on the first night, but also in having two bassists, Workman and Jimmy Garrison, who made his debut with Trane at this engagement and became his regular bass player for the next 5 1/2 years, an oud player named Ahmed Abdul-Malik (recall that Nubian oud master Hamza El Din has also been spotlighted on this blog) who provided an exotic coloration on India, and the oboeist Garvin Bushell, a little-remembered jazz and classical woodwind multi-instrumentalist, whose career started in the 1920s and whose work on the 2nd and 5th of November, added a deeper layer of sound and color to "India" and "Spiritual."

For a devoted follower of Coltrane, who revels in his experimentalism, drinks in the wonders of his live recordings and is an aficionado of the previously released Live at the Village Vanguard and Impressions albums, this box set is an essential purchase.  Even the several versions of key tracks reveal a variety and diversity in lineups and performance that show just how amazing Coltrane's work was developing in the early 1960s.

Despite sour reviews from some critics who labeled the music "anti-jazz" or intoned that Trane should have saved his playing for the "woodshed" [in other words, in private rather than in front of an audience], or felt that Dolphy was completely out of place with Trane, these reactionary ripostes only seem more ridiculous as time goes on.  However, in 1962, the biting remarks had an impact on readers of jazz publications and, to some extent, to the musicians, especially Trane and Dolphy, with the former expressing disbelief at how the latter, universally known as a quiet and gently personality, was being raked over the coals by so-called authorities who were, fortunately, on the wrong side of history.

Whatever "anti-jazz" was supposed to mean in the light of the advancing the music as exemplified by Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk, Cecil Taylor, Charles Mingus and many others by late 1961, John Coltrane with his Africa/Brass collection and this live recording vaulted into the front ranks of any type of musician anywhere, much less jazz.  This box set is a remarkable excursion into feeling, experimentation, passion, dynamics, etc. and, though Coltrane and producer Bob Thiele soon embarked on a series of records to counter the "anti-jazz" label, including albums featuring ballads, a collaboration with Duke Ellington, and another with the incredibly smooth singer Johnny Hartman, there was no turning back ultimately. 

In a way, the path from Live at the Village Vanguard to A Love Supreme is pretty direct and it is one of many reasons why I feel this are the two strongest Coltrane recordings in terms of the impact he had on the direction of jazz music or music generally.  The 4-CD box set, with a great booklet featuring many photos, a discography and an excellent essay by Mark Wild, just gives a much deeper and intense exploration to those fanatics interested and willing in delving deeper into the wonders of John Coltrane's music in late 1961.

John Coltrane: The Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Recordings (Impulse! Records, 1997)

Disc One:

1.  India  10:20
2.  Chasin' the Trane  9:41
3.  Impressions  8:42
4.  Spiritual  12:29
5.  Miles' Mode  9:53
6.  Naima  7:33

Disc Two:

1.  Brasilia  18:35
2.  Chasin' Another Trane  15:26
3.  India  13:14
4.  Spiritual  15:03
5.  Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise  6:25

Disc Three:

1.  Chasin' the Trane  15:55
2.  Greensleeves  6:08
3.  Impressions  10:49
4.  Spiritual  13:31
5.  Naima  7:02
6.  Impressions  14:45

Disc Four:

1.  India  13:55
2.  Greensleeves  4:51
3.  Miles' Mode  15:12
4.  India  15:06
5.  Spiritual  20:29

Pharoah Sanders: Karma

Born Farrell Sanders in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1940, this explosive and spiritually-minded tenor saxophonist received the name "Pharoah" as a play off of his first name and as a reference to the Egyptian themes that marked the work of one of his first bosses, the otherwordly but highly influential pianist Sun Ra.

Sanders became a fixture in the "new thing," or the "avant garde," or the "free jazz" movement that coalesced in New York during the middle 1960s.  He recorded his first album as a leader for the small, but important, label ESP-Disk in 1964 and gained the attention of saxophone titan John Coltrane, who asked him to join his band the following year.  For the remaining two years of Coltrane's life, Sanders was a major part of his evolving sound, which moved into freer and more spiritually intense territory and garnered him, and Sanders, much notoriety, frequently negative.

Like Trane, Sanders was unmoved by the concerns of critics and others that their music was angry noise.  Instead, Sanders continued to develop his dissonant, multiphonic and searching style, while also demonstrating, although this was usually downplayed by critics, that he had a keen ear for lyrical playing.  He also pursued the spiritual side of his music, which played well in the tenor of the times during the latter 1960s.

After Coltrane's death, Sanders entered into a fertile and quite successful period, in which he released several excellent albums on Trane's label, Impulse!  His first album for that label, Tauhid, will be featured on this blog in the future, but the next release was Karma, recorded in mid-February 1969.  Making an explicit link to Trane's 1964 masterpiece, A Love Supreme, Sanders utilized the bass theme from that record to underpin his own best-known work, the nearly 33-minute "The Creator Has a Master Plan." 

Where the Trane record was generally solemn, stately and restrained, Sanders' "Creator" largely starts off that way, but about half way through begins to move in a powerful fashion towards an ecstatic state, featuring his overblowing in the upper register, while pianist Lonnie Liston Smith, later renowned for his funk-influenced workouts, plays beautifully in conjunction with James Spaulding's flute, Julius Watkins' French horn, the double bass work of the excellent Richard Davis and the always impressive Reggie Workman.  Showing Sanders' strong interest in African-derived sounds, drummer William Hart and percussionist Nathaniel Bettis add a great deal of texture and color. 

Also of note, though not perhaps to everyone's taste, is the vocalizing of Leon Thomas, who had been a singer for Count Basie earlier in the sixties, but came to embrace the freer music of Sanders and others.  While Thomas highlighted his lyrics calling for peace and reflection on the creator and his works in the earlier portions of "Creator," he turns to a creative and quite impressive yodeling style as the song builds in intensity after about 18 minutes and he and Sanders yodel and scream together for lengthy passages in what may be one of the most powerful moments on record anywhere.

For those attuned to giving "The Creator as a Master Plan" over a half hour of concentrated listening and attention, the experience can be truly uplifting and transcendent.  The nonet's synchronicity and empathy is remarkable, particularly in that latter half as the work moves closer and closer to a trance-like state. 

The album concludes with a mellow five-and-a-half minute paean to nature and the creator called "Colors."  Again, the lyrics are clearly of the time, as with "Creator," and may seem anachronistic to modern, jaded minds, but, then again, the sincerity and passion with which Thomas vocalizes and the band plays are affecting.  After the yearning intensity of "Creator," the peacefulness of "Colors" seems a totally appropriate way to end a phenomenal record, perhaps the high point of Sanders' long and varied career.

After releasing several great albums with Impulse!, Sanders recorded less frequently and with less notice during the 1970s and 1980s.  His partnership with producer and bassist Bill Laswell, starting around 1990, however, provided a revival of creativity and recognition.  The epitome of their work may well have been the incredible Sonny Sharrock album, Ask the Ages, to be covered here later, as well as an awesome record with gnawa musician, Mahmoud Gania, thorugh Laswell's Axiom imprint in 1994--another album to be highlighted here some day.

YHB had the chance to see Pharoah Sanders play at Catalina Bar and Grill in Hollywood during his early 1990s renaissance.  He played beautiful ballads as well as some of the spiritually powerful playing that made him famous and left a great impression with his soloing and the solid playing of his band.  His music is definitely worth discovering for those inclined towards adventurous music.

Pharoah Sanders:  Karms (Impulse! 1969)

1.  The Creator Has a Master Plan  32:45
2.  Colors  5:37

Charles Mingus: The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady

In January 1963, bassist and composer Charles Mingus took an eleven-piece ensemble into a studio and recorded music intended for a ballet and the resulting Impulse! Records album, The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, is a staggering recording rich with textures, colors, rhythms and solos that make it a unique and involving experience.

It is also an album that can't be appreciated as background music, played while you're doing something else.  It calls for a concentrated listen, following Mingus' solid bass playing, the interplay of the horns (trumpet, trombone, saxes, flute, tuba), Jaki Byard's sympathetic piano and Dannie Richmond's excellent drumming, as well as Jay Berliner's occasional, but spectacular, flamenco guitar playing.

This blogger first heard the album in the early 1990s on the first CD release by MCA, but a new release on an Impulse! two-fer with Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus (another trememdous record) has greatly improved sound--a bonus with music as compelling as this.

Mingus, a native of Nogales, Arizona, who grew up in Los Angeles, was clearly affected the by the big band music of his youth, especially that of Duke Ellington.  Like so many young jazz musicians, however, his world was turned upside down by the titanic developments of be-bop, especially the legendary combo of alto sax player Charlie Parker and trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie.  Bop was a small group form, but Mingus found a way throughout his career to skillfully take the big band sound and arrangement and meld it with the small combo component. 

Mingus also had a masterful composition and arranging style that was heavily influenced by Ellington and Parker, but was his own, weaving the variety of instruments at hand in fascinating and varied ways.  He could play it slow and sweet, sounding very "traditional", but also turn it up and move it quickly, bringing a power and intensity unrivaled at the time.

The peak was almost certainly Black Saint where uptempo, intense passages are leavened by slower, more melodic interludes, the latter often featuring Byard's beautiful touch, while the former highlighted the telepathic interplay between Mingus and Richmond.  Coloring from the baritone sax and tuba especially are noteworthy.  In the passages featuring Berliner, the flamenco touches are thrilling, as is the consistently excellent playing of alto sax player Charlie Mariano, an underappreciated player who also shone on the Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus, Mingus album.

In many ways, Black Saint is the ultimate ensemble record, in which for all the great soloing, the cumulative effect of the diverse array of instrumentation, working with a richly layered score by a master, make this record a highlight for anyone interested in the best jazz has to offer.

Charles Mingus may have been volatile, argumentative, difficult, unpredictable, mentally unstable at times, but he was also highly respected by his peers for his excellent bass playing and his unsurpassed compositional and arranging skills.  When he was at his best, as with The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, he was as good as anyone in the jazz world. 

Sadly, within a few years of this momentous achievement, Mingus was hardly working, evicted from his New York apartment and struggled to keep his career going, though he had moments of excellence in the face of difficulty before his death of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) in 1979. 

And, years after his death, the work that he considered his masterpiece, but which had a failed attempt at mounting in a live recording not long before Black Saint, was lovingly resurrected and completed by a team of musicians and composers.  This was the great Epitaph, which will be covered here in the future.

Charles Mingus:  The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady (Impulse! 1963)

1.  Track A—Solo Dancer  6:37
2.  Track B—Duet Solo Dancers 6:43
3.  Track C—Group Dancers  7:20
4.  Mode D—Trio and Group Dancers
     Mode E—Single Solos and Group Dance
     Mode F—Group and Solo Dance  18:39 

Archie Shepp: Fire Music

Archie Shepp is a tenor sax player, a playwright, actor, poet, and a teacher.  His name first became known in the jazz world when he joined the band of trailblazing pianist Cecil Taylor (whose Conquistador! album has been covered here) at the beginning of the 1960s and participated in some of Taylor's recordings for Nat Hentoff's Candid label.

Shepp became a friend of John Coltrane (also to have a prominent place here) and, through Trane's influence, was signed to Impulse! Records.  His debut for the label, Four for Trane, will get a posting here some day, but it was Shepp's sophomore record, Fire Music, that gets first dibs.  For the album, as he did with the first, the leader assembled a sextet that provided a big band sounds because of the use of four brass instruments (Shepp's tenor, Ted Curson on trumpet, Joseph Orange on trombone, and Marion Brown on alto sax) and Reggie Johnson's bass and Joe Chambers on drums.

The dominant piece is the opening "Hambone," with a driving supporting riff by the other brass instruments behind Shepp's keening soloing.  Dramatic changes of pace come with covers of Duke Ellington's classic, "Prelude to a Kiss," which showcases Shepp's flair for the romantic ballad, and the smash bossa nova hit, "The Girl from Ipanema," which takes on a more experimental flavor with Shepp's arrangement.

More than perhaps any other "avant-garde" jazz artist of the 1960s, Shepp was intensely committed to African-American issues and was outspoken in his support of civil rights and other questions.  Most of the songs on the album were recorded in 16 February 1965, including "Los Olvidados," (The Forgotten), referring to a Luis Buñuel film but also coming from Shepp's experiences with youth mobilization in New York.

Five days later, though, Malcolm X, just entering into a new phase of his spiritual and political life, was assassinated and a shaken Shepp took drummer J. C. Moses and bassist David Izenzon into the studio to perform a piece written in response.  "Malcolm, Malcolm—Semper Malcolm" is a powerful combination of Shepp's anguished poetry and excellent support from the rhythm section, especially Izenzon's bowing, which lends a particular emotional component to the song.

A bonus track on the CD version is a live performance of "Hambone", with only Johnson and Brown remaining from the studio band, from the Village Gate club in New York in March 1965, from which engagement the live album, "On This Night" derived.  The studio version of the song is exciting and varied, but the live rendering is even better, which, in jazz, is almost to be expected.  In fact, Shepp's next release on Impulse! was a shared album with Coltrane at the 1965 Newport Jazz Festival--which will also someday comprise a post here.

Shepp continued to fuse political activism with experimental jazz arrangements through the later Sixties and into the early Seventies.  Though his music became more accesible and less political later, he has continued to work and is now nearing 75 years old.  Fire Music is one of the best of his early works and is an essential document from the ferment of 1960s "avant-garde" jazz.

Archie Shepp:  Fire Music (Impulse! 1965)

1.  Hambone  12:28
2.  Los Olvidados  8:53
3.  Malcolm, Malcolm—Semper Malcom  4:48
4.  Prelude to a Kiss  4:49
5.  The Girl from Ipanema  8:33
6.  Hambone (Live bonus track)  11:50