Andrew Hill: Black Fire

Andrew Hill (1931-2007) made his mark with Blue Note Records from this debut recorded in late 1963 and through a series of excellent albums that followed, such as Point of Departure and Judgment!, both of which have been featured here.  While there was a decided push towards so-called "free jazz" during that era, Hill, being a pianist, continued with the emphasis on modal music, working with chord changes and fairly standard rhythmic accompaniment.

Yet, he was an experimenter and explored harmony, rhythm and texture, while also displaying an incredible talent for composition and melody, even he never achieved the renown or sales of such jazz figures as Miles Davis or John Coltrane.  For Black Fire, he utilized another underappreciated player, the great Joe Henderson, who is usually seen, as Hill has been, as a hard bop tenor saxophonist, on his own albums and as an in-demand side player.

If anything, with Hill's compositions and complex comping with unusual chord structures, Henderson pushes his playing further "out" than he might otherwise have done and his keening, but tonally strong playing is uniformly excellent as he appears more than inspired.  Then, there's the masterful rhythm section of bassist Richard Davis, always solid and wide-ranging, and Roy Haynes, with that readily identifiable "spreading" sound.  Both of these masters recently left us, Davis in September 2023 and Haynes 14 months later, but they are phenomenal on this record (Haynes was a late replacement for the great Philly Joe Jones.)

As for Hill, his composing and playing are graceful, studied, mannered and, yet, still innovative and searching in a way that keeps the music tethered to traditional forms while pushing into areas that seek greater freedom for all involved.  A core element, for this untutored listener, is how tight this quartet is in working with the structures of the pieces, accompanying solos and then demonstrating their mastery in the ensemble playing as well as when they are featured.  Black Fire does have plenty of that and it never turns into an uncontrolled conflagration.

Andrew Hill: Judgment!

A very under-appreciated pianist and composer, Andrew Hill released a string of excellent recordings for Blue Note in the mid to late 1960s, one of which, the superb Point of Departure has already been highlighted here.

Judgment! was recorded just prior to that album, in early January 1964, and, while it may be more low key, due to the absence of a front-line horn and the use of a vibraphone as a featured solo album, this recording is just as remarkable in highlighting Hill's distinctive composing style, uniformly excellent playing and the amazing band chosen for the album.

It's hard to imagine a better rhythm section at the time than the always-steady and full-sounding bass of the great Richard Davis, another player who has never quite received the recognition he deserves, and the exciting and complex poly-rhythms of the masterful Elvin Jones on drums.

Moreover, in a significant way, the tremendous performance by Bobby Hutcherson on vibes is an additional rhythmic instrument, due to the light percussive sound it provides.  Hutcherson, though, also used his instrument for ambiance and was a masterful soloist, as well.

Hill's composing wasn't known for extremes in ways that other so-called "free" or "avant-garde" stalwarts were, but his subtle experiments with time, harmony and rhythm are, with some dedicated listening, obvious and stunning.

This comes to the fore immediately with the standout "Siete Ocho," a nine-minute masterpiece, the title of which happens to refer to the time signature of 7/8.  The playing is just impressive, starting with Hutcherson's vibes and including Hill's always-absorbing solo work as well as a nice short solo by Davis and a typically explosive excursion on the traps by Jones.

"Flea Flop" was titled by Hill because of the "jumping flea" quality of the melody and has a long and exemplary solo by the leader, some powerful soloing by Jones and Hutcherson's shimmering and echoed vibes providing a strong grounding for the piece.

"Senseless dialogue between people" is how the sing-song melody of "Yokada Yokada" is characterized in its dissonant dueting between the vibes and piano, before Hill unleashes another incredibly understated and brilliant solo that is more directly blues-connected than usual for the leader.

A tribute to the founder and long-time executive of Blue Note, Alfred Lion, "Alfred" is a lush, lyrical and gorgeous ballad that gives Hutcherson an opportunity to shine in soloing and atmospheric accompaniment, while Davis plays beautifully in the upper register and Jones, who was not given as much praise for his brush work as he should have, provides excellent support work on percussion.  As for Hill, his playing is as lyrical and economical as can be.

The title track was inspired by a poem by Hill's wife, Laverne, based on the biblical verse, John 7: 7, which has the famous admonition about casting stones.  The tune starts with some emphatic snare shots by Jones, who then slides effortlessly into a driving groove that was one of his many trademarks, while the band moves into a typically angular Hill theme.  It's hard to overstate just how fluidly and compactly Hill constructs his solos-he's never flashy, but his technique and ideas are highly advanced.  Again, Davis alternates between higher and lower notes and always seems to be in just the right spot to hold the bottom down, while Jones keeps those poly rhythms moving before putting on another drum solo clinic.  Hutcherson offers another great solo before the track ends--this along with "Siete Ocho" is a centerpiece to the album.

Finally, there is the closing "Reconciliation," which Hill identified as being drawn from the unity and harmony developed by the group in the course of creating this amazing music.  Another interesting and characteristically complex Hill theme is played three times before Davis solos to great effect, demonstrating why he was so in demand, as Hutcherson and Jones engage in excellent interplay behind the bassist.  A notable quality to this tune is the abrupt ending before the theme's last note was to be played.

The mid-90s release on CD also features a fine alternate take of "Yokada Yokada."

Judgment! is a true classic, featuring excellent writing and playing by Hill and amazing support from a special band playing at top form and thriving on the structures and environment given them by the leader.  Point of Departure had the benefit of featuring the great Eric Dolphy, but Judgment! as a more intimate record is, in some ways, more unified and consistent in its conception and playing.  It is a highlight of Hill's extensive discography and one of the great jazz records of its time.

Van Morrison: Astral Weeks

When a friend offered an invitation, somewhere around 1985 or so, to go to a Van Morrison concert, this blogger hadn't been all that aware of the Irish musician's work, although you couldn't listen to a rock station without hearing, with regularity, classic songs like Them's "Gloria," or Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" "Domino" or "Moondance."

The concert proved to be an excellent one, with Morrison singing well and working with a fine, tight band.  The big surprise, though, was having Mose Allison as the opening act.  Not having been at all familiar with Allison's work, his performance was fantastic and fun.

To get familiar with what Morrison was doing at the time, his new album, "A Sense of Wonder" was purchased and it proved to be very enjoyable.  But, the next acquisition went far beyond that--1968's "Astral Weeks" was basically revelatory.

Coming on the heels of the major success of "Brown Eyed Girl" and a major spat with the Bang record label, the record, released by Warner Brothers, was a determined move towards something more spiritual and contemplative.  It was also unlike anything being done at the time, in terms of Morrison's lyrical content, his soulful singing, and the remarkable band assembled for the session.

In fact, it has been said that Morrison had almost no interaction with the performers on the record, which include some of the greatest jazz musicians on the planet in the amazing Richard Davis on bass and drummer Connie Kay.  Davis, for example, noted in interviews that Morrison spent most of his time in an open booth to lay down his vocals and guitar and hardly spoke to him.  Then again, Morrison has been known for being mercurial and "difficult," although it may also have been that, because he and the band members had never met and were not at all familiar with each other musically, this had more to do with the way events transpired in the studio.

Whatever happened (or didn't) in the lightning quick sessions in New York--the record was made in under two days--"Astral Weeks" is an album brimming with unusual instrumental touches and flourishes, Morrison's transcendental, mystical lyrics and passionate singing, and a cache of songs that, while not the hits that came before and afterward, are just as memorable in their own, covert fashion.

It's actually hard to call any one a standout, given the consistency of excellence on the album, but the opening title track is truly a great song, establishing a tone for the album with its folk, jazz and other instrumental elements fluidly accompanying Morrison's stream-of-consciousness lyrics--the combination leading to an ecstatic conclusion that is really something to behold.  The beautiful "Beside You," has a gorgeous melancholic opening and Morrison's powerful and affecting singing reaches emotional peaks that are quite amazing.

"Sweet Thing" has a great guitar and bas opening before Morrison comes in with another evocative vocal that harmonizes so well with the instruments, including Kay's deft use of cymbals and a swelling use of strings.  "Cyprus Avenue," reflects on Morrison's youth in his hometown Belfast and has an unusual, but highly effective, harpsichord, with, as always, Davis's gorgeous bass playing standing out.

It may be the shortest track, but "The Way Young Lovers Do" has a thrilling combination of sounds with its insistent use of strings and brass, Kay's perfect timekeeping, Davis's rich bass, and Morrison's fine melodies coming together for a stunning, if too brief, performance.  "Madame George" appears to be something of a complement to "Cyprus Avenue" in terms of its impressionistic lyrics reflecting Morrison's Belfast connotations, as well, perhaps, in terms of tempo and the richness of its instrumentation.

"Ballerina" is another languid ballad with the band playing understated behind Morrison's keening and emotive vocals, highlighted by his drawn-out enunciation of the title.  The closer, "Slim Slow Slider" was evidently something of a late inclusion to the session for timing reasons and it does have that feel, especially as the tune suddenly fades out with John Payne's soprano ranging into higher tones and Kay suddenly tapping out a quiet and fervent conclusion, indicating that there wasn't much idea of what to do with the piece to end it.  Still, it is a very intimate piece with acoustic guitar, a soprano sax and Morrison's singing and it is very effective.

Credit should also be given to producer Lewis Merenstein, who had an extensive jazz background for Warner Brothers, and who evidently was moved to tears by Morrison's demos and then came up with the idea to pair the singer with the great Richard Davis.  Merenstein then brought in Connie Kay, guitarist Jay Berliner, and percussionist and vibraphonist Warren Smith, Jr. 

In a 2008 interview, Merenstein stated that Davis was the key player on "Astral Weeks," the underpinning that held it all together and this definitely resonates for the listener, who has heard the bassist on a number of jazz records by Eric Dolphy, Oliver Nelson, Elvin Jones, Andrew Hill and others and who saw the great bassist at Catalina Bar and Grill back in the mid-Nineties.  Merenstein also has interesting things to say about Morrison's "innocence" when he went in to make the record and really not knowing what he was doing and also notes that it was his idea to label side one "In the Beginning" and side two "Afterwards," an affectation that Morrison didn't like, but that Merenstein felt reflected something reactive in his thinking about this remarkable album.  To read the interview, click here.

Van Morrison:  Astral Weeks (Warner Brothers, 1968)

1.  Astral Weeks  7:00
2.  Beside You  5:10
3.  Sweet Thing  4:10
4.  Cyprus Avenue  6:50
5.  The Way Young Lovers Do  3:10
6.  Madame George  9:25
7.  Ballerina  7:00
8.  Slim Slow Slider  3:20

Eric Dolphy: Out to Lunch

Recorded just a few months before his untimely death from uremia in Berlin in 1964, Eric Dolphy's Out to Lunch is a phenomenal combination of fine originals by the leader and a stellar band of some of the greatest musicians of the era. 

Joining Dolphy, who, as usual, is featured on several instruments, including alto sax, flute and bass clarinet, are trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, Bobby Hutcherson on vibes and a tremendous rhythm section of bassist Richard Davis and teenage sensation Tony Williams on drums.  In fact, Davis and Williams take full advantage of the freedom and opportunities given them by Dolphy's excellent compositions and arrangements, for which, as with his playing, he was given so little credit and recognition.

The Thelonious Monk tribute, "Hat and Beard," has a cool, start with Williams' cymbal work setting the rhythmic tone and then Dolphy's circular clarinet lines quietly stating its own rhythm, soon joined by Hutcherson's vibes.  Hubbard and Dolphy have tight harmonics on the interesting, innovative theme before the leader launches into a crazy solo, full of the inventiveness, vigor, unusual note combinations and other dynamics, including human-like cries and moans, that made him controversial then, but still fresh and new just about a half-century later.

The melancholy ballad "Something Sweet, Something Tender" has a great bowed opening by Davis accompanying Dolphy's clarinet playing and Hubbard does an excellent job harmonizing with the leader on the theme that follows.  There is another great Dolphy solo

"Gazzeloni" is an opportunity for Dolphy to demonstrate his flutistry (if that is a word) and Davis' well-executed walking lines and Williams' signature cymbal work and solid, understated fills are perfect accompaniments for Dolphy's otherworldly theme statement and his wild and staggering solo work that follows.  But, as interesting is the eerie playing of Hutcherson, whose placement of sounds is unusual, but highly compelling.  Hubbard's solo is somewhat conventional, given the setting, pieces and players, but he does a great job trying to extend his playing beyond what he was usually doing at the time, being one of the busiest players in jazz.  Hutcherson gets to solo towards the end of the piece and, while nicely done, it seems less noteworthy than his accompaniment during Dolphy's solo.

The title track is a march set in motion by Williams before the theme comes in with Hutcherson's off-kilter and repetitious playing standing out while Dolphy and Hubbard again play in unison.  Then, there is another mind-numbing solo on the alto by the leader.  Davis is wide-ranging here, plucking in the upper and lower registers of the bass with subtlety and invention, while Williams does his usual excellent job of keeping rhythm with powerful snare hits, rolls and fills and that amazing cymbal playing.  Here, Hubbard seems more assertive and comfortable in his lengthy solo, perhaps because of the stronger rhythmic foundation laid down by Hutcherson, Davis and Williams, who follow Hubbard with what could be described as simultaneous soloing, though avoiding formal steady rhythms permeates the entire record anyway.

"Straight Up and Down" might be an ironic title for the unusual theme that opens the tune and which is played longer than the head arrangements on the other tracks and Dolphy heads into the stratosphere with another careening, speech-like solo on alto that capsulizes all of the interesting colorations and devices that characterized his short, but startling career, then in essentially his fifth year as a bandleader.  Hubbard's solo, again, sounds traditional when following the leader, but it does show that he was earnestly trying to work in the "out there" environment Dolphy was creating and the trumpeter should get more credit for the effort--the solo comes out well.

Speaking of "out there," that was a title on earlier record, another Dolphy classic to be featured here someday, put out by Prestige Records and which, like Out to Lunch with its absurdist photo of a "Will Be Back" sign at a restaurant with hands pointing in all directions, was intended to spotlight Dolphy as a true "avant gardist," working far outside the bounds of "traditional" jazz.  Perhaps, but Dolphy took far too much hostile criticism for what turned out to be adventurous, creative, and well thought-put advances in a music that had been in a pretty stale repetitive doldrums of bop for almost fifteen years by the time he began making his own records.

Out to Lunch proved to be Eric Dolphy's greatest album, though, as in all cases with someone who dies too soon, who knows what he would have done when so-called "free jazz" really took off in subsequent years.  In any case, this is a fabulous recording that shows free playing can be done with great inventiveness, arranging and playing by a fantastic band and one of the great, unsung leaders in jazz history.

Eric Dolphy:  Out to Lunch (Blue Note, 1964)

1.  Hat and Beard  8:24
2.  Something Sweet, Something Tender  6:02
3.  Gazzelloni  7:22
4.  Out to Lunch  12:06
5.  Straight Up and Down  8:19

Andrew Hill: Point of Departure

For some inexplicable reason, Andrew Hill remains a largely overlooked pianist and composer, whose 1960s works for Blue Note Records are among the best of that era.  Maybe it's that he wasn't a terribly flashy player, but instead used his keyboard work in the service of the piece and of the remarkable musicians who appear on this record.  It might also be that, as jazz was starting to enter the so-called "free jazz" era, Hill's work was not nearly as adventurous as those of the "avant garde" musicians.  This may be contested by some, but, in a way, Hill's directions remind me a bit of what Miles Davis was starting to do at about the same time with his "second great quintet."  That is, the overall direction wasn't as overtly revolutionary as what Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, Albert Ayler and others were creating, but there was a quieter transformation of how freedom was being utilized in an ensemble setting.

The common linkage between Davis and Hill was the rhythmic underpinnings and innovations of the very young Tony Williams, the then-18 and 1/2 year old drum wizard whose sense of openness in time-keeping allows everyone to move more freely in their solos. 

The horn section was an interesting combination of Kenny Dorham, Joe Henderson, and Eric Dolphy.  Dorham, a hard bop notable on trumpet, plays with a coolness that pairs well with Hill's understated way of accompanying the soloist.  It might be telling that Dorham, whose experience of playing with Coltrane and Taylor in 1958's Hard Driving Jazz, even when those two hadn't gotten anywhere near the freer expressions that came later, was, by all accounts, a miserable one, does much better here with Hill. 

Tenor sax player Henderson was something of a newcomer, having mustered out of Army service in 1962, but quickly gained a foothold as a leader for Blue Note and a side musician for Dorham, pianist Horace Silver, and trumpeter Lee Morgan.  He also had a hard bop sound generally, but also moved into some freer territory.  Later, he recorded with McCoy Tyner, Herbie Hancock and on Alice Coltrane's masterpiece Ptah the El-Daoud, soon to be profiled here.

Then, there's the phenomenal Eric Dolphy, featured on his usual mix of alto sax, flute and bass clarinet and whose unusual groupings of notes and angular, visceral playing is a contrast to Dorham.  Dolphy's sound is so distinctive and foreceful that his solos totally stand out, even as Dorham and Henderson perform excellently in the overall context of the band.

This leaves the rhythm section of the great Richard Davis on bass and Williams.  Davis, whom this blogger had a chance to see lead his own band at Catalina Bar and Grill in Los Angeles some twenty years ago,  was so highly regarded by Hill that the leader called him "the greatest bass player in existence" and a master of tone, technical ability and creativity.  Hill even noted that he wrote piano parts with Davis in mind so that the bassist could "pick out the notes he wants to use."  Davis played on Dolphy's monumental Out to Lunch! recorded for Blue Note less than a month before Point of Departure and on many other great jazz records.  He also, however, appeared on recordings by Van Morrison (the sublime Astral Weeks, also to be covered here), Bruce Springsteen and Paul Simon.

As for the leader, he has great lyrical ideas, a masterful command of tempo and beat, and innovative, if not (again) overly grandiose, solo concepts.  And, with such a stellar band on hand and with great pieces like the opened "Refuge," "New Monastery" (obviously referring to the master, Thelonious Monk), and the beautiful and haunting closing ballad, "Dedication," he had the perfect settng in which to create his masterwork.

Already using the state-of-the-art studio and engineering talents of Rudy van Gelder, this album benefitted further from a 1998 remastering by van Gelder for what is known as the RVG Edition.  Extra bonuses include alternate takes of "New Monastery," "Flight 19" and "Dedication."

Hill made other excellent albums for Blue Note in the mid-60s including Compulsion!!!! and Black Fire, but Point of Departure is the pinnacle and easily one of the great albums of the era or any other in jazz.  It's a shame that Hill, who died in 2007, is still  so under-recognized.

Andrew Hill:  Point of Departure (Blue Note, 1964)

1.  Refuge  12:12
2.  New Monastery  7:00
3.  Spectrum  9:42
4.  Flight 19  4:10
5.  Dedication  6:40

1998 remastered edition bonus tracks

6.  New Monastery (alternate take)  6:08
7.  Flight 19 (alternate take)  3:45
8.  Dedication (alternate take)  7:01

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