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By Jeff Cebulski
I suppose it says something about the state of jazz when the most-talked-about releases of 2005 were led by dead people. Yet, in the same way Elvis and Tupac experience resurrections after someone performs audio spelunking in some deep vault, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker all resurfaced with sparkling, heretofore unheard performances now offered to those of us who are hungry for a voodoo child from the conjured past. With the advent of digitally enhanced recordings, we now can hear the authentic roots of the music our forefathers talked about.
The first release, Live at The Half Note, has been available in various forms for a decade or so. Impulse was able to obtain a tape of the radio broadcasts from 1965 and remaster Coltrane’s remarkable performances with his famous quartet at a time when the regenerated sax legend was just beginning to enter into his final phase of composition, stepping away from merely producing “sheets of sound” based on jazz conventions, instead heading toward a spiritual though dissonant clamor that included wildly creative, modal excursions that tested his sidemen to the limits of performance. One great example is included here, “One Down, One Up,” where Coltrane takes off on a wondrous journey through measure after measure of cascading notes, all delivered with the speed of someone who sounds like his time is up and must play as much as possible. Meanwhile, the remarkable drummer Elvin Jones (who sadly passed away last year) goes along for the ride, losing the pedal on his bass drum and having to fare with the snares and his wits. If the listener is willing to come, too, the fervency and fire of the performance is trance-inducing.
[Note: One frustration that might be mine only is that, on three copies I listened to, there appears to be tape irregularities during this solo where the sound goes in and out or clips out completely for less than a second. I contacted the company to see if I was right or if I had a defective CD (no other cuts suffered), but the spokesperson was not going to admit the presence of the sound irritations. Maybe I live in an area that received defective products? Did anyone else notice this?]
Also enticing is a powerful version of “Afro Blue,” with a representative solo from pianist McCoy Tyner, the last living member of the group. However, the radio announcer has to interrupt before the piece is completed on-air, an indication that modern jazz was beginning to grow away from radio-friendly performance.
The second disc of the set includes “Song of Praise,” with its _Love Supreme_-like cadences, and “My Favorite Things,” which by then had become many people’s doorway into Coltrane’s world and was a staple of his concerts.
This revelatory release is even more interesting when one encounters the first of two ‘miracle finds,’ Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall, an undocumented live concert recorded in 1957 by the Voice of America but closeted in the Library of Congress until early last year (no one, and I mean No One, seems to have been there or known about it, not even Coltrane and Monk biographers, who had heard references to such an event but had no proof of it). Now, we hear the third link to a period of time when Coltrane was between his two rounds with Miles Davis, first having been kicked out of the famous quintet because of drug use, only to resurface anew through a quasi-spiritual revelation and self discipline. Monk’s idiosyncratic style allowed for the inclusion of the revamped sax wonder, who plays with the piano man’s pre-funk syncopations and begins to develop the chord manipulations we hear in the previously reviewed concert. [The other two productions that include Monk and Coltrane are their Riverside album and the previously released, not-as-well recorded concert at the Five Spot, also on Blue Note.]
On this night, Coltrane was bright and focused, evident immediately during the opening duet version of “Monk’s Mood” and culminating with a ruggedly swinging “Sweet and Lovely,” where the tenor evokes the influence of Lester Young and Coleman Hawkins at the same time.
It’s not as long an appearance as the former (the very cool liner notes include a page from the bill that saysget thisBillie Holiday, Dizzy Gillespie and Orchestra, Ray Charles, Chet Baker with Zoot Sims, and Sonny Rollins also played…for a top ticket price of $3.95!…in a benefit for a community center), but the quality of the playing and the provenance makes this CD a must-have.
* * *
Gillespie is featured in the second discovery of a rumored recording, this one discovered on acetate at a flea market! Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker. Town Hall, New York City, June 22, 1945 on Uptown Records is tantamount to discovering a tape of, let’s say, Lennon and McCartney playing together for the first time. Bebop was, essentially, invented at the time Gillespie and Parker began their famous partnership. In a similar fashion to the oddly conventional Monk’s relationship to the inventive Coltrane, Gillespie had developed his own progression of bop playing that allowed the peripatetic Parker to hunker down and explore the depths of his own creativity. Town Hall is the Moment of Truth, the earliest (perhaps the first) evidence of one of the great musical evolutions. With the addition of drummer Max Roach, the sound that launched Jack Kerouac’s beat world and dozens of sax wannabes (think of Parker as the first Jimi Hendrix) is now forever palpably on record.
* * *
So what does the Coltrane fan do to keep the fire burning? Fortunately, there were two releases in 2005 that extend the progressive blues tradition.
The first is by the longtime representative of Coltrane-nuanced music, saxophonist/flutist Charles Lloyd. Jumping the Creek (ECM) includes the members of his current quartet that played a scintillating set at the Newport Jazz Festival: pianist Geri Allen, bassist Robert Hurt, and percussionist Eric Harland. Since a disturbing but intensely motivating 2001, when his musical brother Billy Higgins passed away and Lloyd was present in New York on September 11, the elder statesman has been almost of two minds, exotic and Eastern, melancholy and Western. His albums over the past 15 years have been deft mixtures of both, but his last three studio ensemble releases have gravitated toward a renewal of sorts with his roots. On _Jumping_, the mellow, wandering player takes journeys around and through the solid backing of his veteran mates, dipping deep into the blues and lifting high, again and again, while keeping one foot in the meditative context indicative of his own spiritual experience with Vedanta Buddhism.
However, the ghost of Coltrane shows up regularly when Kahil El’Zabar’s Ritual Trio from Chicago plays, with the strong evidence of resurrection coming on the group’s Delmark CD Live At the River East Art Center. On this live recording (including the progressive violinist Billy Bang), the percussionist and his friends Ari Brown on tenor and the great Yosef Ben Israel on bass, explore the medium blues gait Coltrane loved to play, almost as if a musical séance were taking place in front of a captive benefit audience. The four songs are long, winding trips over faintly similar blues highways, the similarities of which are eventually trumped by the passion of performance.
* * *
Three stalwart and singular musicians came together for the third time last year in an ECM release that gained the attention of most high-brow jazz critics, if only because their mutual presence invites anticipation. The album was I Have the Room Above Her (ECM), led by Paul Motian, called “the Picasso of jazz drummers” for his generally minimalist approach to percussion and composition, borne more than likely from his days playing behind Bill Evans. Unlike another jazz elder, Roy Haynes, Motian likes to be underpinning rather than bombastic, often choosing abstract, slightly avant-garde tone poems rather than driving, post bop ventures. Motian’s mates are the great saxophonist Joe Lovano and the ubiquitous guitarist Bill Frisell. All three were featured on at least one other recording of note, making 2005 an outstanding year for a trio of the most respected jazz players.
I Have the Room is consistently placid in mood, but with a wide splashing of quietly intense moments that surprise the sensitive listener. Motian’s contributions seem prescient, almost as he was letting the two soloists decide the music’s tone and pace, but with pre-knowledge of invented breaks and patterns. Of course, as the composer, Motian has some idea of where these explorations are going, but the real jazz here is the improvisation and the way each musician gets into the head of the other. The tonal glue is provided by Frisell, whose twangy style is instantly recognizable and accessible. Lovano’s talent, here, lies in the smooth juxtaposition of his deeply stated tenor in the airy midst of sensitive fingerpicking and brushing, almost as breathy as a recital by the late Shirley Horn; think of Tony Bennett when he’s singing ‘quietly.’
Lovano continued his fine work with his recent quartet including both Motian and the wonderful Hank Jones on Joyous Encounter (Blue Note). An almost identical follow up to 2004’s This One’s For You, this quartet provides a guaranteed thrill of hearing four singular players melding into one. While the focus is on Lovano, his talent for arrangement and his respect for his peers is signified by the presence of Jones, who is probably the most eloquent jazz pianist living, steeped in traditions of nearly a century and whose personal modesty and integrity transcends above all. The bassist George Mraz is also widely respected for his own versatility and ability to weave style, grace, and rhythmic support into each of his performances. On Joyous, Motian is able to display his redoubtable talents in the opposite direction, as Lovano pushes and prods his group into bop-based explorations of classics and originals, at ease with both tender ballads, oft-recorded classics, and the chosen Coltrane replay. (Look for a transcendent live recording at Newport to be released sometime this year; I am one of the audience members.)
Frisell, always in demand, released his own double-CD on Nonesuch last year, called _east west_, the recording of two trio concerts at the Village Vanguard in NYC and the also-famous Yoshi’s in Oakland. Both clubs provide the intimate settings that fare well when trios decide to record. Besides the play lists, the only difference between the two venues was the accompanying bassist; in Oakland (Disc 1) it is the eclectic Viktor Krauss and in NYC it is Tony Scherr. With Kenny Wollesen on drums, the setup might suggest jazz, but with Frisell you’re going to get all of the folk/heartland nuances that only Pat Metheny can equally typify. On east west, Frisell reinvents modern pop classics like “I Heard It Through the Grapevine,” “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” “The Days of Wine and Roses,” and “Crazy,” traditional tunes like “Shenandoah” and “Goodnight Irene.”while hanging loose during his own creations (“Blues for Los Angeles” is one fine example). Taking advantage of some newly modern technological tools to create loops on the spot, Frisell demonstrates that he, too, is capable of jazz invention that invigorates close listening and evinces depth within simplicity.
That same quality is evident on one more album involving Motian, a bassless trio release led by European trumpet player Enrico Rava, Tati (ECM). Rava has joined a fairly significant group of postmodern players enraptured by a chamber music motif, and this recording is one of the better efforts. Even though it suggests a ‘same old, same old’ vibe with its opening number, the over-recorded “The Man I Love,” the three playersincluding Stefano Bollani on pianotake little time advancing into improvisation, showing a keen facility for expanding and returning to the infamous melody. From that point, the listener is open to all sorts of suggestion, and this trio does not disappoint, even when visiting a Puccini themea rare and brave effort that works amidst the ten other originals. Here, Motian’s restraint and exquisite touch keeps the music from ever approaching bombast and maintains a crystal-clarity that enhances Rava’s musings.
* * *
The staunchly individualistic and world-weary bassist Charlie Haden regrouped his Liberation Music Orchestra last year to record what could easily be the most political music statement of the year, Not In Our Name (Verve). In one sense, the recording represents the best tradition of jazz, the taking of conventional music and reshaping or reexpressing it to meet a rhetorical need, such as blacks taking Broadway tunes and claiming them as their ownjazzing them up. In this case, though, Haden recorded an album in Europe that is drenched in cynicism regarding American values in a time of upheaval. As art, it can be a refreshing symbol of speech; as politics, it can be cloying and pretentious. It all depends on the hearer. In the 60’s and 70’s, Haden used this orchestra (with arranger Carla Bley as a constant member) as an artistic vehicle for his concern about Latin America and the U.S.’s alleged deceptive intervention in various countries like Nicaragua. On this new effort, his chagrin over Iraq seems to be the motivation to use his Orchestra to record an off-key and dissonant version of “America the Beautiful,” not to denigrate it, but to use it to communicate his nationalistic sadness. Bley’s profound “Blue Anthem” seems meant to replace the official one, and Lester Bowie, Lyle Mays, and Pat Metheny’s “This Is Not America” sends a strong message. Not for the faint of heart, Haden and Bley’s postmodern interpretations of “Amazing Grace” and Dvorak’s “Goin Home” contribute to a complicated, agenda-driven artistic expression that attempts to take back something and restate it in one’s own language.
* * *
Bassist Marc Johnson has
been at the epicenter of several modern jazz excursions over the past decade
that have bridged fusionesque and traditional music, especially with edgy
guitar/percussion-led trios. So, on _Shades of Jade_ (ECM), it was a bit
of a surprise to hear him lead a traditional ensemble that establishes
a more sedately swinging ambiance. One good thing this approach does is
to allow space for his gifted and talented guests to play off of his subtly
blues-informed riffs. One point of bickering: Is "Blue Nefertiti" really
all Johnson's invention? Hardly--he takes the front half of Wayne Shorter's
modal classic and melds it to a hardly-changed end phrase. It's a wonderful
theme, and the musicians respond accordingly, but Shorter, really, wrote
half the song. (On the other hand, maybe that's just jazz!) Nevertheless,
most any CD with Joe Lovano and guitarist John Scofield on it will have
first-rate music, and I think pianist Elaine Elias' shimmering contributions
add the right touch of lovely sophistication. A fine recording, one of
the better releases of 2005.
Another nice find was a
release led by trombonist David Gibson, The Road to Delphi (nagel
heyer). Gibson gathered a solid core of peers (including Randy Brecker
on trumpet and flugelhorn, Wayne Escoffery on soprano, Rick Germanson on
piano, Dwayne Burno and his big bass, and Joe Strasser on drums) and delivered
solid original compositions that reflect the finest jazz tropes. The title
cut borrows Coltrane’s Eastern blues to set a mood for the largely thematic
pieces that reflect what Gibson calls a “very personal search for truth.”
But the music never gets pedantic and instead celebrates whatever Gibson’s
epiphany was, with the spirit of it exuding through each player.
*
* *
Generally, live jazz provides
what one desiresan uninhibited performance driven by audience reaction.
Two CD’s with two different styles prove this to be true. For example,
The Frank & Joe Show: 66 2/3 (Hyena) was the second album produced
by two gifted professionals, swing guitarist Frank Vignola and percussionist
Joe Ascione. The CD, like their initial release, showcases Vignola’s striking
and blistering dexterity and Ascione’s swinging versatility. The album
is conventional from top to bottom, with a 30’s feel to the music and two
guest female vocalists to break up a bit of monotony. As I stated with
their first album, though, the tight studio versions are slick to the point
of constricting the talentboth those guys can really play! So I was
pleased to find out the CD had a hidden song, a clearly improvised piece
that had a far different feeledgy, with more than a hint of the blues,
and a clear demonstration of Vignola’s breadth of talent. Why not record
this kind of album? Then there’s _Live at Jazz Standard_ (Palmetto) with
the Bill Mays Trio. If one desires a fairly straight ahead piano
trio album (Mays on piano, Martin Wind on bass, with the entertaining Matt
Wilson on drums) with few pretensions and solid, unified performance, this
one works well. But we really get to find out this crew’s jazz chops when
a blues is let loose toward the end of the set, a fairly obvious encore,
that shows what happens when the musicians forget the tapes are rolling.
Mays, who doesn’t take too many chances, takes a few on “When Will the
Blues Leave?” and emotes well enough to make me listen to the CD all over
again.
In both cases, one wonders
what would happen if the producers just let the artists gowould even
the paltry jazz radio play the music? Probably not. That’s the real problem.
* *
Another good example of
unfettered jazz is Havin’ a Good Time, another Hyena Records CD,
a well-recorded documentation of an accident: in the early winter of 1964,
the late, great saxophonist Ben Webster was snowed in on a winter night
at a club in Providence. The tenor player, mellowed by a few drinks, wanted
a gig and got one when the late blues stylist and crooner Joe Williams,
supported by a gifted trio including the soulful Junior Mance on piano,
showed up for a concert and discovered Webster sitting in a corner, saxophone
in hand.
Hyena producer Joel Dorn’s
archival discovery shows clearly why Williams, the chief vocalist for the
Count Basie Orchestra after Jimmy Rushing, was such a respected stylist.
In this performance, Williams charms his snowbound audience with a half
dozen pairs of swing tunes and enticing ballads that exhibit his crisp
enunciation and mildly suggestive phrasing. The evening’s relaxed atmosphere
affected Webster, a “tough tenor” during his period with Duke Ellington,
who chose this time to channel the sweet, melodious tone of another Basie
great, Lester Young.
This release, one of several
Dorn “found” productions, rewards repeated hearings, especially in a well-baffled
room where club intimacy can be mimicked.
*
* *
Finally, I have heard Sonny
Rollins play live at two occasions at the same venue. The first time, an
event that begged for a heroic performance (because his right hand man
Clifton Anderson was ill), Rollins put on a show that is among the most
creative experiences I have ever encountered: God On the Instrument. The
second time, Anderson was healthy, but Rollins played longer but less enticing
solos, almost as if he believed the audience came to hear him only. Without
A Song: The 9/11 Concert (Milestone), this 'new' release, features
Sonny #2. I suppose there was supposed to be an element of pathos in the
proceedings memorialized by this recording, but if you have heard Rollins
perform any time in the past few years, this concert won't be revelatory.
I'm sure that if I were part of the audience on this occasion, the music
would have been a balm to my fractured soul. In that historical context,
Rollins' spirited playing could have temporarily led me out of the doldrums
of the time and into some pseudo-spiritual, universal resolution. However,
the great sax man has turned topological, increasingly stretching out past
prime invention and back into his own aged conventions. Without meaning
to be patronizing, I'm sure it was the best he could do at a tough time.
There's nothing at all wrong with this set; there's nothing really wrong
with Rollins or his stage mates, either; but there's nothing transcendent
here.