Tim Berne and the Copenhagen Art Ensemble With Herb Robertson and Marc Ducret: Open, Coma

In his nearly half-century of making music, Tim Berne has been exceptionally committed to evolutionary exploration in terms of his compositions, ensembles and the presentation of the two in always unpredictable and exciting ways.  This listener was blown away in 1991 with the purchase of his Pace Yourself album with the Caos Totale collective.  The whole album was incredible, but the centerpiece to these ears was "The Legend of P-1," a 26-minute tour de force with the altoist joined by trombonist Steve Swell, Mark Dresser on bass, drummer Bobby Previte, Marc Ducret on guitar and Herb Robertson playing trumpet, cornet, flutes, flugelhorn and more.

A few years later, the next Caos Totale recording was Nice View, with the group joined by Django Bates on keys, piano and the E-flat horn and stretching, in the best way, for nearly 40 minutes is the astounding "Impacted Wisdom."  Recorded that same year, 1994, and released the following one was Memory Select, the third in a series of live albums by another phenomenal Berne group, Bloodcount, including Ducret along with Chris Speed on clarinet and tenor, bassist Michael Formanek and Jim Black on drums.  Only two tracks were on the recording, including the 51-minute "Eye Contact."

With these three mammoth works performed live for radio broadcast and the new studio-recorded "Open, Coma," the album of this latter name marked the first time Berne recorded with a larger ensemble, including ten musicians and a conductor, allowing him to work with the material and the performers in a different way because he released this stunning recording on his own Screwgun label.  What stands out to this largely untutored listener is how the complex compositions, which already sounded full-bodied with Caos Totale and Bloodcount, become richer and deeper and the sound is more expansive and enveloping.

Robertson and Ducret are part of the ensemble, which includes tenor and soprano saxes, flute, clarinet and bass clarinet, a second trumpet, a cornet, a trombone, a bass trombone, a tuba, a piano and organ and a bassist and drummer.  Berne's compositions often have a classical, orchestral feel in the arrangements and the ways the instrumentation works with harmonies, including contrasting ones, but to have this expanded lineup, they effect is even more striking.

What's great, as well, as that, with this more symphonic character, these extended pieces could each be heard as having a variety of movements, as in classical composition, as tempo, tone, and other aspects of form change, including light and shade and movement from quiet, contemplative sections to powerful, propulsive intensity.  The diversity of color in the types of instrumentation also stand out, so that, even if a listener has heard the Caos Totale and Bloodcount pieces on those three records, there are, of course, familiar aspects, namely melodic elements, but there is a freshness to the larger ensemble performance that makes them sound new, including, as just one example, the use of organ and piano with Ducret's guitar in "Impacted Wisdom" that hearkens somewhat to Miles Davis' In A Silent Way.

In 35 years of listening to Berne's amazing body of work, Open, Coma stands out because of this rare opportunity for a big band-type of ensemble and it should be noted that it took him, Robertson and Ducret traveling to Europe for it to happen.  This was more than a quarter-century ago and it seems only fair and reasonable that Berne be given an opportunity to make more music like this in our country.

Abraham Adzinyah/Anthony Braxton: Duo (Wesleyan) 1994

In Anthony Braxton's vast catalog of recordings dating back almost 60 years, he has worked in so many different environments from large orchestras to quartets as well as solo, but much of his oeuvre has thrived on duo recordings, live and in the studio.  None of his collaborations, however, are quite like this one, released by Leo Records in 1995, with the Ghanian percussionist, ethnomusicologist and instructor, Abraham Adzinyah.  For nearly a half-century, from 1969 to 2016, Adzinyah taught at Wesleyan University in Connecticut, where Braxton was a colleague from 1990 to 2013.

The meeting of these musical masters is remarkable because Adzinyah is, of course, not a jazz drummer or percussionist, but this actually provides a palette that presents Braxton with a different way to improvise.  This is hardly an issue, as it might be for others, because Braxton is uniquely situated in jazz because of his omnivorous openness in musical expression to develop his playing in sync with his playing partners.  Adzinyah creates rhythms and colors in his performance that support his fellow musician while also demonstrating his keen understanding of using percussion in a way that makes Braxton's music sound less formal and forbidding than it often is.

This is also a live recording at Wesleyan, so there is the nature of working in that environment, though there isn't audience reaction included.  There aren't any, to this listener's untrained ears, any real structure in terms of a melodic theme or rhythmic development; it sounds as if the two simply walked on the stage and began playing—whether any rehearsals were undertaken is an interesting question.  With Adzinyah providing accompaniment, with occasional solo performance, Braxton utilized his usual broad array of reed instruments, exploring a wide dynamic range.

Braxton's duets with drummers, like the incomparable Max Roach, usually yield power and heaviness, while his work with guitarists, bassists, keyboardists and others provide other avenues for his expression of all kinds.  Perhaps a somewhat relatable example of difference, as with Adzinyah, are Braxton's recordings with Richard Teitelbaum, in which the accompaniment is strikingly unusual, but also highly stimulating.  This album really stands out amid Braxton's incredibly prolific and distinctive oeuvre and was certainly a pleasure to discover!

Ornette Coleman: Free Jazz

Having first heard this 35 years ago (on vinyl) in the earliest explorations of jazz (along with classical and world music, to broaden listening horizons) and only having the barest of understanding of what was involved with improvisation and its relationship to harmony and rhythm, especially in that world in 1960, Ornette Coleman's 37-minute Free Jazz, recorded in one take and no editing, was really a jarring experience, but a fascinating one.  The leader stated that the goal "was for us to play together, all at the same time, without getting in each other's way, and also to have enough room for each player to ad lib alone—and to follow this idea for the duration of the album."

One of the elements of the recording that immediately stood out was the placement of four musicians on each channel, with the leader, trumpeter Don Cherry, drummer Billy Higgins and bassist Scott LaFaro on the left and bass clarinetist Eric Dolphy, trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, bassist Charlie Haden and drummer Ed Blackwell on the right.  That way, especially with headphones, you can hear the differences between the two quartets, even as the processing of the octet as an ensemble is taking place.

Coleman called Free Jazz a collective improvisation because he only wrote out the parts played by the horns prior to each solo; otherwise, the musicians had that freedom to play whatever they wanted to complement or supplement what the soloists were playing.  That meant that the excellence of the individual musicians had to be sharpened as part of this collectivity and all eight of them were masters.  

As someone who tends to focus on the rhythm sections as the underpinning of the music, it is especially fascinating to hear the differences between but commonalities among the bassists and drummers.  LaFaro had the toughest assignment, as Haden, Blackwell and Higgins were experienced participants in the leader's unusual sound world.  The soloing of these duos is also fascinating, while it's the continual driving pulse the holds all of this together.

Regarding the horn players, the varying styles are clear, but so is the ability of them to be part of that ensemble as the other support the given soloist.  Having Dolphy, moreover, play clarinet adds a richness and depth, as well as variation, in the performance, while Hubbard, a more traditional player, seems to easily adapt to this freer environment, in which, of course, Cherry and Coleman were deeply absorbed.  Also very notable are the ways in which the other wind instruments engage with the soloist.

Those having the late 1990s CD version can also hear "First Take," which is less than half the length of the originally released recording and it is very interesting to listen to it and compare and contrast it to the fuller version.  Though Free Jazz was reviled, as well as hailed, by many when released in September 1961, it encouraged to future efforts like John Coltrane's Ascension (1965) and influenced a great many jazz musicians to open themselves in terms of what was viewed as necessary or required in the music.  

With music this untethered to traditional approaches, immersion seems the only way to appreciate what this incredible album offers.  As Coleman remarked in the liner notes: "We were expressing our minds and emotions as much as could be captured by electronics."   

Muhal Richard Abrams: Levels and Degrees of Light

The music coming out of Chicago's Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) from the mid-1960s and onward was nothing short of spectacular.  While the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Anthony Braxton and Henry Threadgill might be some of the more recognizable names of those who emerged from the AACM's big tent of creativity, no one was more vital to the Association's existence and success than co-founder and pianist/composer Muhal Richard Abrams (1930-2017.)

The Chicago native had many creative interests, including the visual arts, while his musical imagination embraced not just jazz, but modern classical, including electronic music, but he was largely self-taught, finding traditional academic study not fulfilling enough.  In June and December 1967, not long after the establishment of the AACM, Abrams recorded his first album, Levels and Degrees of Light, released on the local independent Delmark label, which issued landmarks from by future Art Ensemble members Joseph Jarman and Roscoe Mitchell.

In the liners, Abrams was hesitant to explain the music, offering only that "I think the musicians involved tried to join their thoughts to mine" and the collaboration was "a kind of prayer" in which the session was "the capturing of a moment in that constant prayer."  He then obliquely stated that "what is here is what we are and what we hope to be."  To this listener, the title seems to indicate the varying shades of sound on the recording, involving quiet, contemplative passages, those building up to an incredible level of intensity, the voices of classically-trained singer Penelope Taylor and poet David Moore, and the timbres from the instrumentation.

This includes the leader on clarinet and piano; Braxton's alto; the tenor of Maurice McIntyre; Leroy Jenkins on violin; Gordon Emanuel's vibes; Charles Clark and Leonard Jones on bass; and drummer Thurman Barker.  It does sound as if everyone was totally in tune with Abrams' compositions and aesthetics.  "The Bird Song" is an astounding piece, evoking a sort of environmental calmness at the outset, including bird-like sounds, but including a stunning mass of roaring, rumbling and coruscating ensemble work towards its end.  The title track and "My Thoughts Are My Future—Now and Forever" are, however, also very compelling and reflective of the composer's remarkable range of ideas.

Muhal Richard Abrams was not nearly recorded enough, compared to the musicians and groups mentioned above, but he is a pivotal figure in the development of jazz and Black creative music for roughly a half century and future posts will highlight more of this master's work.

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!)

Anthony Braxton/Kyle Brenders: Toronto (duets) 2007

One of the many amazing attributes of Anthony Braxton's music is that he shines in duet performances, as this listener personally witnessed at a concert performed with harpist Jacqueline Kerrod and held in the lobby of The Broad contemporary art museum in Los Angeles in 2019, and that he supported and encouraged students in recordings with him during his nearly quarter-century tenure teaching at Wesleyan University in Connecticut.

The featured album for this post is just such an example of both aspects, a double-disc recording with Kyle Brenders in a session in Toronto that comprises two of Braxton's Ghost Trance Music, which he noted was influenced by his taking classes at Wesleyan on Native American music, including those dealing with the Ghost Dance rituals.  The box set 9 Compositions (Iridium), which may someday be featured in this blog, included a quote from the composer about the influence that the music from these spiritual practices had on him as "various tribes came together and compiled whatever information they had left" before most of their culture was decimated—this included the perspective of tying our reality to communication with the spirit of ancestors.

As is often the case in Braxton's complex music, the performance of these numerically-assigned compositions, in this case, 199 and 356, allow for the transposition of elements from other pieces within the GTM system that could also involve the varying of tones, tempo and other aspects.  Not surprisingly, his philosophy and systems can be very complicated and challenging for non-specialists (like this blogger) to comprehend.

What stands out in this recording is the use of themes that sound like military music and repeat before the players move into other melodic and tonal territory, some of it quite beautiful and reflective amid frequent use of repetition.  Braxton, playing alto, soprano and sopranino saxophones, meshes so well with Brenders, on clarinet, soprano and tenor, that their playing almost seems telepathic, though this is clearly the result of the two of them fully utilizing the resources of the GTM model.  Brief notes by Scott Thomson observe that the use of "dialogue" means a reference to "language," which is how Braxton often speaks of his approach to musical composition and Thomson rightfully calls this recording an expression of "a beautifully original dialect" spoken by the players.  

Tim Berne/Hank Roberts/Aurora Nealand: Oceans And

After 32 years of following an incredible array of immensely creative and intensely restless musical explorations from the amazing Tim Berne, I finally got to see him perform live last night at Zebulon in the Atwater Village neighborhood of Los Angeles with long-time collaborator, cellist Hank Roberts, and accordionist, clarinetist and vocalist Aurora Nealand under the banner of Oceans And.

The concert was one extended piece featuring the remarkable interplay between these three master musicians and it was striking to hear the tonal relationships between Roberts and Nealand, especially when he was playing arco, with Berne demonstrating his usual stunning excursions on his alto.  To see all three listening intently, eyes closed, as the performance unfolded was interesting to observe as well as to hear what they offered up.

Often, Roberts would turn to playing the cello pizzicato, as well as tapping and drumming on his instrument, sometimes with breathtaking variety.  Nealand made the most of the accordion in terms of her solos and accompaniment, including as a drone.  The interplay between these two was often staggering as they provided an underlayment to Berne's playing.

There were long passages of quieter performance as well as those with a boiling intensity and it ebbed and flowed (perhaps this is where the ocean metaphor comes in?) and Berne's weaving in and out, sometimes with a plastic bottle inserted in the horn was often very powerful.  So, too, were sections in which overtones were employed and the three instruments were so in sync that it sounded almost orchestral.  Beautiful, mysterious, contemplative, unnerving—a wide range of emotions were expressed, including when Nealand offered wordless vocalizations that echoed what her bandmates were playing.

In many ways, the Oceans And album, released by the Swiss label Intakt in April, is what was heard in the concert, but longer and divided into a dozen tracks.  All of the qualities and characteristics are there, but it doesn't really seem to matter that there are individual pieces and titles and listening to the recording, which is beautifully rendered, recorded, mixed and engineered, it felt like the breaks into the tunes didn't matter because the performance of this highly immersive music made it seem like time was being stretched.

After the playing stopped, a man in front of me commented that, if someone was looking to discover jazz, this was probably not the place to start.  Perhaps—but Tim Berne's immense discography should be part of any primer even if a major recalibration is needed in terms of how to listen to music not observing standard conceptions of time, rhythm and harmony.

The other act performing last night was the power trio Harriet Tubman, so the next post will feature that amazing group and its latest recording, The Terror End of Beauty.

Peter Brötzmann Trio : For Adolphe Sax

Having just heard of the late June death of Peter Brötzmann, the "free jazz" titan whose uncompromising and often blistering music emerged from mid-1960s Germany and blazed a fiery, formidable path for some decades. it just seemed clear that this post should feature his debut trio record, For Adolphe Sax (inventor of that instrument class), recorded in June 1967 with bassist Peter Kowald and drummer Sven Ake Johansson and released on the leader's infant label, Brö and reissued on FMP (Free Music Production) Records, which has put out much of Brötzmann's output over the years.

To say that this music is bracing, blunt and bursting with blasts of sheer intensity and power seems like an understatement because it can't really be adequately described, only experienced.  It is clear that Brötzmann was heavily influenced by the great Albert Ayler, whose incredible music has been featured on this blog before, but he also spoke of the environment of part of his childhood lived during World War II and then the postwar period and the desire for total musical freedom of expression.  This is largely unrelenting in its focus on primal energy, excepting a brief respite on "Sanity," and there is a nearly 10-minute bonus track for the CD reissue called "Everything" that includes pianist Fred Van Hove and which was recorded by Radio Bremen.

Obviously, in the absence of virtually any structure, including an introduction, statement of a theme or melody, bridges, and restatement, not to mention the almost overpowering wall of sound generated, what holds the attention of this listener is that there is strong interplay here between the three musicians with Johannson displaying a strong command of dynamics and technique in polyrhythms in working with his colleagues and Kowald employing both arco/bowed and plucking techniques very effectively as the rhythm section undergirds Brötzmann's eager explorations.  On the added piece, Van Hove adds a welcome variation in timbre, while also demonstrating his ability to use his Cecil Taylor-like accompaniment and soloing to great effect.

Understanding that this difficult music to listen to, it's always good to recall what Ayler and his brother Donald once suggested in an interview about the best way to hear what they were doing not long before For Adolph Sax was recorded and released:  try to follow the sound, not the notes.  Sometimes tracking what the rhythm section does can also be helpful in navigating the often extremely turbulent trip on which Brötzmann and his colleagues are leading the listener.

Lastly, it is recommended that anyone interested in this pivotal figure in jazz listen to some of his later work, including the Die Like a Dog Quartet, to hear how his music evolved over the decades—though this blogger is also going to go back now and sample some of the (barely) controlled chaos of Last Exit with Ronald Shannon Jackson (drums), Bill Laswell (electric bass) and Sonny Sharrock (guitar) to remember the greatness of Peter Brötzmann.

John Coltrane: A Love Supreme, Live in Seattle

What an amazing circumstance it was when the Impulse! label released, in 2021, this astounding document that was long hidden in the possession of saxophonist and teacher Joe Brazil and which was one of the very few live recordings of John Coltrane's transcendent suite, A Love Supreme.  Recorded on house equipment at The Penthouse club in Seattle on 2 October 1965, this music featured the master and his classic quartet of pianist McCoy Tyner, bassist Jimmy Garrison and drummer Elvin Jones, supplemented by bassist Donald Rafael Garrett, alto sax player Carlos Ward, and the great Pharoah Sanders, who departed this world last September.

After several years of working nearly exclusively with Garrison, Jones and Tyner and reaching the limits of what he felt could be done with modal jazz, Coltrane sought new ways of expression, with instrumentation, composition, improvisation, harmony and time and in other ways.  Not long after this recording, Tyner and Jones left the band, uncomfortable with the new directions pursued by Coltrane, while Garrison remained until the leader's death untimely death from liver cancer at age 40 in July 1967.

Not surprisingly, whereas the studio version of this masterpiece, recorded in December 1964, was conceived and played with precision, power, passion and no filler, this version, more than the other live recording, from the Antibes Jazz Festival in France in late June 1965, is looser, more open and free, and  often filled with explosive intensity unrivaled in jazz.  There were, too, the growing contradictions within the expanded band, especially for Tyner, a staggering pianist, but whose lyrical playing, complex soloing and distinctive comping often seems lost or out-of-place in the maelstrom—his solo on the third part, "Pursuance," however, is outstanding.  On the other hand, Garrison, the consummate accompanist, played well with Garrett and Jones, who often expressed frustration with the new manner of performance, more than keeps things moving with his great polyrhythmic playing for this unpredictable and fiery ensemble.

A lot has been said about Sanders and his often-abrasive and emotive style of playing, but he proved to be an excellent foil and complement, as well as an inspiration, to Coltrane, who was absorbing a good deal of "free jazz," most especially that of Albert Ayler (Trane made sure that Sanders and Ayler were signed to Impulse!).  Ward has some fine moments, as well, settling in somewhere between Sanders and Coltrane in terms of style and approach.  With respect to the leader, he was clearly inspired by new musicians and ways of writing and playing and making every effort to plunge forward fearlessly with records like Ascension, Om, and Meditations, while live recordings such as the ones in Seattle, Japan and the second Village Vanguard set show the full steam ahead approach that prevailed until the master died of liver cancer in 1967, at just age 40.

There was a lot of controversy about Coltrane's direction after 1964, but it's also understandable why he went where he did.  To grow is to change and this push into freer music was the only way he could see to go.  This end period was a world away from the hit version of My Favorite Things or his Standards album, but it is fascinating to follow him in those last years and this is a revelation for that era.

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!

Last Exit: Last Exit

The life of a non-commercial musician is nearly always one of struggle and any success, however well-deserved, can obviously be suddenly transitory.  Since 1990, Bill Laswell has been a great inspiration to this blogger because of his unerring commitment to presenting music in ways that challenge, provoke and move in ways outside (often far beyond) the mainstream.

An early discovery was the incredible and oft-chaotic four-piece Last Exit, which Laswell created by bringing together three forces of nature in guitarist Sonny Sharrock, saxophonist Peter Brötzmann and drummer Ronald Shannon Jackson, while the producer and bassist was truly the glue that held the center during the raging cataclysms these masters brought to the ensemble.

The debut live recording from Paris in February 1986 literally involved the quartet arriving for the gig, without rehearsals, a set list or any pieces and just totally going for broke in a fully improvised and incendiary environment.  The results can be unsettling for a listener not knowing anything about the project, but it is also bracing, cathartic and amazing to hear Sharrock and Brötzmann play their instruments to what seems like their absolute limits, while Jackson provides almost illimitable rhythmic accompaniment and Laswell keeping everything (well, almost) grounded.

Last Exit is an astounding recording as Laswell has had an amazing, diverse career as a musician and producer.  Which leads to a request:  please consider contributing to a Go Fund Me fundraiser set up by friends of Laswell to help with expenses because his health issues, the loss of his longtime home, and the costs of maintaining his studio.  Given his absolute dedication to music and what he has given to it, he deserves as much support as he can get.

For Fanatics Only— Albert Ayler: Holy Ghost

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam Rivers: Contrasts

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

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

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

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

Marilyn Crispell: Highlights from the 1992 American Tour

This is a great album, though it is strange that the dustjacket for this Leo Records release says "Trio With Reggie Workman & Gerry Hemingway On Tour," the disc and rear tray card says "Highlights From the 1992 American Tour" and the side of the case says "Highlights from the Simmer of 1992 American Tour."  One wonders why a more creative title couldn't have been devised that would reflect the remarkable music on this disc.

Marilyn Crispell has been highlighted here before as a solo pianist and, while a lot has been made of the inspiration she derived from the late, great Cecil Taylor, she, like any creative artist, absorbs influences from a variety of sources but develops her own style.  This is also very much true in her group work, especially in later years when her playing changed, likely as a reflection of her evolution as well as to distance herself from the constant Taylor comparisons.

So, with this package of seven tunes from four performances, we really see, as Art Lange rightly points out in his notes, that there is a big diffrence in how Crispell works with the other musicians from what Taylor did.  Lange observes that "Taylor's trios feed off of a juxtaposition of rhythmic motivation" and sometimes appeared to be working exclusive of each other.  Taylor was, of course, a very percussive pianist, brilliantly so.  But, for Crispell, Lange continues, she "builds her music in layers upon the foundation of the bass and drums."

That can be clearly heard throughout these performances, Hemingway, on drums, and Workman, veteran of so many years of playing with a dizzying array of artists on bass, are totally in sync with the leader and with each other.  Hemingway was, with Crispell, a member of easily one of the most memorable ensembles led by the great Anthony Braxton and Crispell and Workman long had a series of collaborations, so the ability of these three masters to generate amazing music is hardly a surprise.

Anthony Braxton Quartet (Dortmund) 1976

For all of the amazing music, the prolific and profound Anthony Braxton has created for more than a half-century, it is hard to find any endeavor of his that was more exciting and accomplished as the quartet that lasted just a half of a year in 1976. Featuring the remarkable rhythm section of Dave Holland on bass and Barry Altschul on drums and percussion, with the leader playing his usual array of horns (alto, contrabass, and sopranino saxes, and Eb, contrabass and standard clarinet), the additional element that powered this ensemble was the introduction of the amazing George Lewis on trombone.

This Hat Hut release is from the inaugural Dortmund Jazz Festival held in Germany on Halloween and the group, which disbanded after a show in Berlin several days later, plays at a peak of precision, passion (not something usually associated with Braxton by critics), power and, fun (also not highlighted in reviews).  It helps that the group plays three versions of Composition 40, one of the most common pieces that Braxton played, and that the opener with version F is, through a Holland solo, transitioned to Composition 23J, another oft-performed work. The combined pieces take us on a stunning 26-minute journey, with a mind-blowing solo by Braxton that generates a burst of enthusisastic applause, with Lewis offering his own masterful solo after that!

Composition 40 (O) follows with some remarkable sounds, like birdcalls from Altschul and a panoply of "honks, grunts, quacks and howls" from Lewis and Braxton, "with Dave Holland tight on their tails," as expressed by Graham Lock in his thorough and enormously helpful notes.  Then there is Composition 6(C) which Braxton indicated "was composed to be a circus march type of music," though by the Dortmund concert "has provided an ideal vehicle for 'collage' improvisation."  This, Lock explains, means "a parade-ground melee" with the horns tossing off "marching riffs in glorious profusion."  Finally, there is Composition 40(B) which, Braxton observed, "was composed with respect to the implications" of such jazz giants as Fletcher Henderson, Duke Ellington, Charlie Parker, Lennie Tristano, Charles Mingus, Ornette Coleman and Eric Dolphy— but with Braxton's unique perspective.

It must be said that, complicated as Braxton's concepts can be, Lock does as a good a job as can be expected at explaining what's behind this whirlwind's approaches.  As complex as Braxton's work is, and it can be daunting, suspending preconceptions of what jazz is supposed to be, much less other forms of music, and just letting him and his compatriots take you on their wild and wonderful journey can be highly rewarding.

Tim Berne's Bloodcount: Unwound

In his mid-60s, Tim Berne, always a prolific producer of incredible experimental jazz, dating back some four decades, decided to ramp up his releases in 2020, issuing several recordings during the pandemic.  Dedicated to his music and uncompromising in his vision, Berne has been a remarkable and fascinating figure, working with all kinds of ensembles and in small duo and trio settings, churning out just amazing music.

One of his more impressive projects is Bloodcount, in which the alto and baritone sax master is joined by Chris Speed on tenor sax and clarinet, bassist Michael Formanek and drummer Jim Black.  This three-disc set, released by Berne's DIY Screwgun label, of live recordings in spring 1996 from Berlin and Ann Arbor, Michigan allows for Berne's ideas to be stretched out, more fully developed and, ultimately, richer because of the incredible interplay and brilliant solo work found throughout.

The shortest track here, "Loose Ends" is thirteen minutes and "What Are the Odds?" is well over forty minutes, but all of these pieces have their individual segments in which group interaction, solos, points of intensity and then of introspection are so well played and projected that the music never drags.  The quieter (if often foreboding) passages provide a break and contrast from the powerful sections and Berne's uniquely angular approach to composition and group dynamics always guarantee suprises and interesting twists and turns.

Berne and Speed are compelling in their harmonization and their soloing, during which the other horn player often riffs in interesting ways.  Black is a dynamic present behind the kit, playing thunderous and often highly complex solos, while always beautifully supporting the others.  Formanek is perhaps the glue that holds all this together with his amazing and supple presence and really interesting solos.  Berne has always been masterful in juxtaposing power and ambience and making the most of group interplay and Bloodcount and this set represent the best of how this is manifested live.

Ornette Coleman/Charlie Haden: Soapsuds, Soapsuds

While Ornette Coleman was creating some fascinating music with his electric ensemble, Prime Time, he took a detour and engaged in a side project with Charlie Haden, his long-time bass playing colleague, and recorded Soapsuds, Soapsuds, a series of absorbing and revealing duets, in January 1977, released the next year on Coleman's Artist House label and later reissued on his Harmolodic label through Verve.  In his long, remarkable career, Coleman didn't record a lot of duet albums, but they can be among the most amazing of his projects, such as when he worked with pianist Joachim Kühn or with guitarist Pat Metheny, when the interplay between the two musicians reflects that they are truly listening to each other.  This was certainly the case with Coleman and Haden, who first played together two decades before, and who would continue working together occasionally after the bassist left Ornette's band about this time.  

There is an intimacy to many duet performances that draw the listener in as if you're hearing the performers in a private concert and this is one of those examples, all the more striking given the dense and usually exciting Prime Time performances of the era.  Haden was always a master of supporting the other musicians, never feeling the need to overplay or over-impress, and he was particularly brilliant here in giving Coleman the space to play some of the most beautiful tenor work (Ornette primarily being an alto player) he'd recorded.  In his rare, but typically cryptic notes, Ornette does say simply: "this music . . . has . . . a very simple message: these performers are playing for the sake of making music for people to enjoy their own concept of hearing."  Those last few words are particularly noteworthy.  As for Haden, he observed "most of what I have learned about the art of listening can be directly attributed to playing with Ornette. In order to contribute totally to his music, one must listen to every note he plays . . . and then come the endless possibilities."  This really is an immersive experience when focused concentration is directed to what these two masters brought to this stunning recording.

Lennie Tristano: Intuition

Lennie Tristano (1919-1978) is another of one those tragically unheralded musical masters, a pianist and composer who was the first to use "free improvisation" in jazz in seminal late Forties recordings.  Born in Chicago, his sight was severely impaired from birth and he was totally blind by the time he was ten.  Despite this, he had immense musical talent, playing horns, guitar, drums and piano, the latter becoming his main instrument.  He studied at the American Music Conservatory in his hometown, finishing the course in three years but denied his diploma because of a financial dispute and continuing with graduate work and he performed and taught, with one of his students being saxophonist Lee Konitz, later a major figure in jazz and who died this past spring at age 92 from COVID-19.  While Tristano achieved some recognition during the full ferment of the bebop years of last half of the 1940s and into the next decade, he moved further into teaching and less with recording and performing.  Tristano died at age 59 and was largely forgotten, leading, it was said, to bitterness and disappointment on his part.  His aversion to commercialism and his dedication and devotion to his musical vision left him underappreciated and under-recognized over the years, though he was greatly admired by Miles Davis, Bill Evans, Anthony Braxton and Charlie Parker, among many others.

This great four-disc overview of Tristano's work between 1945 and 1952 issued by the British label Proper Records in 2005 shows just how forward-thinking this amazing musician could be, but it can also be understood (sorta) why his innovations did not connect with a wider jazz-loving public.  It wasn't just the revolutionary free improvisation employed in tunes like "Intuition" and "Digression" recorded in spring 1949 and which definitely prefigured what Ornette Coleman and Cecil Taylor would do years later, but Tristano's approach to harmony and tonality were distinctive, even if, usually, the rhythm sections played very much "straight-ahead," leading to the critique that the music lacked swing and was cold and formal.  The first two discs have plenty of interesting material, including some great piano solo work and fine trio recordings, with the excellent "Out on a Limb" and a series of tunes, some with an added clarinet, recorded on the last day of 1947 being standouts for this listener.  

It is disc three, though, that astounds, with an all-star workout from 3 January 1949 including Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis and Fats Navarro on trumpet, Parker, J.J. Johnson and Kai Winding on trombone, Shelly Manne on drums, Charlie Ventura on tenor, and Tristano blowing through "Victory Ball;" some great work with a quartet and quintet session about a week later, featuring Konitz; a sextet with Konitz and Marsh in March with "Wow" named for a reason as the sax players play a phenomenal intertwined passage; and that free session in May, also with the two sax masters.  Disc four has the great benefit of mainly consisting of live material offering greatly extended renditions of tunes with much longer soloing, including a Christmas Eve 1949 performance with Konitz and Marsh of two tunes at a Parker-headlined concert at Carnegie Hall, and a half-dozen tunes recorded in Toronto in summer 1952, again with his primary soloists.  There are also a couple of pieces recorded in the trio format in fall 1951 for Tristano's short-lived label and including a young Roy Haynes—a master drummer who is still with us and who will be 96 in March.

With a four-disc set, there's a lot more that could be said, but, generally, as was the case with the long-neglected Herbie Nichols, given some of the great material, innovations, and beautiful playing found throughout, the one word that stands out, with Marsh and Konitz melding their horns together so excellently is: Wow.

Cecil Taylor With Tristan Honsinger and Evan Parker: The Hearth

In summer 1988, Cecil Taylor, always, as so many experimental jazz musicians have been, more highly regarded and appreciated in Europe than at home in the United States, spent an enormously productive month in Berlin, just a few years from German reunification, as part of a month-long residency which led to many concerts.  A result was an 11-disc box set, issued by FMP (Free Music Productions), called In Berlin '88, which was then reissued by Desintation: Out in 2015, with two additional CDs as The Complete Cecil Taylor in Berlin '88.  This blogger doesn't have either set, but does have several of the discs that came from them.  One of the more interesting is The Hearth, a slightly-longer-than-an-hour excursion into amazing improvisation between the titanic pianist, tenor sax giant Evan Parker, and the lesser-known, but very impressive, cellist Tristan Honsinger.

There are moments where the trio works together really well, especially during Parker's well-constructed and brilliantly laid-out solos, and there are duos between Taylor and the sax player and then between Honsinger and the maestro that are also superlative.  While Taylor was known in duos, especially, for overwhelming his partner with his dazzling display of keyboard pyrotechnics, and there is some of that here, he does interact beautifully with Parker and Honsinger in some of the most exceptional passages of this phenomenal recording.  It's hard to believe he's been gone for two-and-a-half years, but, with a prodigious output from the 1970s and for years afterward, with the Berlin residency yielding so much remarkable music, there is no shortage of material to turn to when the mood is there to hear an iconoclastic master pour out his astonishing performances.

Anthony Braxton and Marilyn Crispell: Duets, Vancouver, 1989

Wednesday night was the fulfillment of a long-deferred dream—to hear Anthony Braxton live.  I bought his Antilles release Six Compositions when it was released in 1991 and, in the years since, have purchased and avidly listened to dozens of recordings in his prodigious discography since.

The setting last evening was highly unusual.  The Broad, the contemporary art museum opened four years ago by Los Angeles capitalist Eli Broad, has an exhibit on contemporary black art and a music component was introduced.  This included Braxton performing a duet with harpist Jacqueline Kerrod in the lobby of the institution.

On one hand, this was an odd and jarring setting with many museum visitors walking past, some talking very loudly, and, behind Braxton and Kerrod, pedestrians and vehicles moving past on Grand Avenue.  The usual setting of attendees sitting and having their attention (should they enjoy what they're hearing, that is) fixated on the performers was completely turned on its head.

Yet, there was something intriguing and compelling about the environment, though maybe the external elements and forces melted away simply because Braxton and Kerrod created a spellbinding performance over about an hour and ten minutes that drew the attentive listener in and kept them locked in due to the remarkable interplay and stellar playing.

I was also transported back to the early Nineties when I went frequently to the old Catalina Bar and Gill on Cahuenga Boulevard in Hollywood to hear some of my favorite musicians, including McCoy Tyner, Horace Tapscott, Elvin Jones, and many others.  After figuring out that, if I got there early enough to be in front of the line, and got to be known, at least by sight, to Catalina Popescu and her husband Bob, it was usually easy to get a bistro table and two chairs at the front and literally be inches from some of the greatest musicians in the world.  Having been to hundreds of rock concerts where the separation was notable, the intimacy of the jazz club was intoxicating.

At the Broad, I wasn't right up front, but got within several feet after slowly sliding my way forward as casual listeners wandered away.  Literally, drawn in.  Kerrod was tremendous, being very much in tune with what Braxton was doing, and playing traditional runs on the harp, but also engaging in scraping, plucking and tapping in very experimental but always supportive ways. 

In turn, Braxton gave her plenty of space, played off her ideas, and then wandered thrillingly through the registers of his alto, soprano and sopranino saxophones.  If silence was called for, he made full use of it, as well as the use of staccato notes, blistering runs (at 74, he appears to have lost none of his staggering technique), slurs and smears, and other elements. 

In fact, despite his cold and academic reputation and there was some notation (or at least, figures and drawings) on music stands, I found much of what he did very soulful and emotive.  Perhaps this was in response to the Kerrod's harp, because he did play more of the higher register saxes than the alto and it worked beautifully with her playing.

At the end, following sustained and enthusiastic applause from those of us who stood the entire time and were maybe half of who started off listening,  Braxton spoke emotionally about his return to the city after so many years and expressed hope that change would come to the country, an obvious reference to the turmoil experienced in America (Braxton has long expressed the idea that music can directly affect life in the universe).

After he walked off the small stage, I went over to Braxton, shook his hand, and merely said, "I want to thank you for this.  I've been waiting thirty years [OK, twenty-eight] to hear you.  Thanks again" and wandered out with my wife (who was a trouper for putting up with this, even though she had to sit on the floor for the last fifteen or so minutes.)

Definitely a night to remember and, again, a long-held ambition realized.

The highlighted recording here from the Music & Arts label is another fabulous duet, one of many in Braxton's long and storied career.  In this performance with the stunning pianist Marilyn Crispell, whose music has been covered here before, the telepathic interplay is just amazing to behold.  Crispell remains a largely unknown figure in modern music, which is really a shame, because, as Braxton says in the notes"I believe her music will be considered required listening by future students of exploratory creative music."

He adds, "she can execute in every area (and even more importantly, she creative contributes,)" which allows Braxton to roam freely through marches, notated music, and totally improvised work with a sense of organic harmony that is phenomenal.  For all of his talk of "my evolving music system of interconnected identity/states" or "material [which] forms the evolving architectural 'tri-state' of my vibrational model," there is a rare level of sympathetic hearing and playing between Braxton and Crispell which is found in his best duo works, as well as other larger ensembles, including the quartet with the pair and Gerry Hemingway and Mark Dresser, best known through the quartet work of the Eighties.

This is a longer post than usual, but the experience of hearing Braxton, who said he hadn't been to Los Angeles in twenty years, with Kerrod as an excellent collaborator, brought to mind this wonderful recording from just before I started listening to this modern musical master.