John McLaughlin : Floating Point
Abstract Logix2008
While the term fusion has long been associated with the specific fusing of jazz and rock, ever-shrinking distances in the global community has led to viewing the term as much more all-encompassing. Few have been as successful as guitarist John McLaughlin at bringing together a lifetime of voracious musical interests into new contexts where the whole truly exceeds the sum of its parts.
Amongst the guitar icon's many pursuits has been a lifelong fascination with Indian music, which began seeping into his own work as early as My Goals Beyond (Ryko, 1970), but became increasingly evident throughout the first two incarnations of his groundbreaking Mahavishnu Orchestra. Still, it wasn't until Shakti (Legacy, 1976) that McLaughlin truly began finding ways to fuse the more linear, rhythmically challenging music of India with the jazz-centric western harmonies he'd honed on projects like Extrapolation (Polydor, 1969) and work with another legend, trumpeter Miles Davis, on albums including the vastly influential In a Silent Way (Legacy, 1969).
Both the original Shakti and reformed Remember Shakti, which released three albums at the turn of the millennium including the sublimely stunning The Believer (Verve, 2000), were largely acoustic affairs, increasingly approaching western harmony and including some electronics, but with a primary emphasis on the Indian tradition.
Floating Point, recorded in India during an eight-month stay there prior to unveiling his newest touring group, The 4th Dimension, for its Fall, 2007 North American tour, reverses things completely. Incorporating Indian melodic concepts into a decidedly harmonic/changes-based affair, McLaughlin brings together a mix of western musicians including young electric bass phenom Hadrien Feraud—whose playing on The 4th Dimension tour and his 2007 self-titled Dreyfus Records debut demonstrate another legend in the making—and a collection of Indian musicians who may have never played this kind of music before but, as the guitarist said in his 2007 AAJ interview, ...”they don't have the training; but I know how to set up some harmony where they can just go on their ragas and everything works out fine.”
McLaughlin further describes the session for Floating Point, “What amazes me, whether it's west or east, are the young musicians coming up who are really outstanding. This makes my heart warm, as they say, because on a recording I did in India, for example, I used all Indian musicians, but there was a rhythm section, all Indian musicians playing western instruments, who were just killing.”
“Rather than leaning towards any one discipline, as McLaughlin approaches seventy the many markers that have acted as signposts along the way are drawing ever closer together.”
Along with Feraud, McLaughlin's core group includes keyboardist Louiz Banks, drummer Ranjit Barot and percussionist Sivamani, three players from India who propel Floating Point with a combination of rock-edged western backbeat and complex eastern polyrhythms. Those fortunate enough to catch the 4th Dimension tour will be familiar with three of Floating Point's tunes—the frenetic “Raju,” taken at a slightly slower pace than on the tour; the balladic “Maharina,” sporting a far busier pulse; and the closing “Five Peace Band,” another burner originally performed by Shakti that is essentially a blues, twisted on its side by McLaughlin and featuring one of his most fervent solos of the set.
Guests, including saxophonist George Brooks, vocalist Shankar Mahadevan and, in particular, bamboo flautists Shashank and Naveen Kuma—who take the instrument to places it's never been before on the viscerally funky but high velocity “Off the One” and breezily optimistic “14U” respectively—prove that the line where Indian traditionalism and western harmonies meet can, indeed, be fluid. In many ways the very logical follow-up to Industrial Zen (Verve, 2006), Mahadevan's expressive singing on Floating Point's aptly titled “The Voice” draws a clear line to Industrial Zen's “Dear Dalai Lama” and “Mother Nature,” on which the vocalist also appeared.
Like his reformed Mahavishnu of the 1980s, McLaughlin plays more guitar synthesizer here than the conventional electric instrument, but his palette has grown substantially, and ongoing improvements in technology make his synth work on Floating Point feel far more organic. On the opening “Abbaji”—with Brooks' soprano saxophone and Barot's fiery delivery bearing some comparison to McLaughlin's late-1990s Heart of Things band—McLaughlin's ability to create sounds that are vocal-like in their nuanced expressionism continues another career-defining thread back to the mid-1970s, when he worked with prototypical guitar synthesizers like the 360 Guitar Synthesizer System.
The toughest part of having an encyclopedic interest in music that crosses every stylistic boundary, is the risk of losing focus and a consistent voice. Throughout McLaughlin's five-decade career, he's managed to mitigate such risks by creating music that lives and breathes with his own broad interests. Rather than leaning towards any one discipline (other, perhaps, than being a primarily Western musician, despite his undeniable knowledge of Indian traditional music constructs), as McLaughlin approaches seventy the many markers that have acted as signposts along the way are drawing ever closer together. As the 4th Dimension tour also demonstrated, there's an increasing lyricism in McLaughlin's playing and writing—qualities that have always been there, but seem to be coming out in much greater force in recent times.
One of the most fluent, evocative and powerful albums in a career filled with high points, Floating Point works because, just as he's accomplished in his own career, McLaughlin has brought together a group of musicians for whom much of the music is far outside their comfort zone.
It's McLaughlin's very trust in his musicians' adaptability—the very same flexibility that encouraged Miles Davis to tell McLaughlin to play as though he'd never played the instrument before on In a Silent Way—that makes Floating Point so compelling. McLaughlin's Indian friends may not have jazz in their blood the way it is in the guitarist's, but by approaching unmistakably western-informed music (often written, however, with linear themes that could easily translate to a more Indo-centric approach) with an eastern mindset, they make Floating Point an album that, in McLaughlin's lengthy discography, is one of his most successful fusion records, with the term fusion referencing the broadest possible definition.
Tracks: Abbaji (For Ustad Alla Rakha); Raju; Maharina; Off the One; The Voice; Inside Out; 14U; Five Peace Band.
Personnel: John McLaughlin: guitar synthesizer, guitar (2, 4, 6, 8); Hadrien Feraud: bass guitar; Louiz Banks: keyboards; Ranjit Barot: drums; Sivamani: percussion, konokol (6); George Brooks: soprano saxophone (1); Debashish Bhattacharya: Hindustani slide guitar (2); Shashank: bamboo flute (4); Shankar Mahadevan: voice (5); U Rajesh: electric mandolin (6); Naveen Kumar: bamboo flute (7); Niladri Kumar: sitar (8).
Sunday, 1 June 2008
Friday, 15 February 2008
Jazz Fusion
Since the early 1970s, fusion music has served as an appreciable back door for people seeking an entry into the complexities of jazz. The term “fusion” refers to the blending together of jazz, rock, world music, classical, or other influences into a concrete whole. Most often it's applied to a form of music also known as “jazz-rock”, which first gained wide popularity with Miles Davis' electric-jazz experiments in the late 60s. Today there is an earnest resurgence in fusion across America and the world, with a vast number of technically brilliant musicians creating exciting sounds, and classic recordings being reissued in droves. Before dealing with the current scene, however, it's best to begin building a fusion library by heading back to its roots.
Prior to Davis' innovations, a small scattering of jazzmen attempted to fuse jazz and rock. British guitarist Alexis Korner cut his first album of electric jazz-blues as early as 1962, and other British electric-bluesmen (Graham Bond, John Mayall) flirted with jazz inflections throughout the 60s. In about 1966 the Free Spirits (guitarists Chip Baker and Larry Coryell, saxophonist Jim Pepper, drummer Bob Moses, bassist Chris Hills) began toying with a union of jazz and the pop sounds that had set American youth on fire: Bob Dylan, the Beatles, the Stones. Unfortunately, the Free Spirits' sole album, Out of Sight and Sound (1966, ABC-Paramount), has been unavailable for decades despite being the true herald of jazz-rock fusion's arrival. The concept was still shaky and Coryell's vocals did little to help matters, but for its landmark status alone it is a valuable record.
Coryell moved on to work with trumpeter Randy Brecker, then with vibraphonist Gary Burton's quartet. In '66 Burton had semi-successfully fused jazz and country on the album Tennessee Firebird (RCA), produced by Chet Atkins. Moving towards rock seemed the next logical step. Albums like Duster (RCA, 1967) followed, utilizing rock rhythms and Coryell's acidic tone to good advantage. Decked out in beaded buckskins, Burton subsequently became a favorite feature of American rock festivals.
Burton's first successful entry into jazz-rock fusion, still more jazz than rock but pointing the way ahead. Compositions by bassist Steve Swallow, Carla Bley and Mike Gibbs are savvily interpreted by Burton, Swallow, Larry Coryell and drummer Roy Haynes. Coryell's sharp tone, deeply inflected by the blues, offers the main rock flavoring on tunes like “Ballet”, “Liturgy”, and Swallow's hippie-esque “General Mojo's Well-Laid Plan”. The album received an astonishing 5-star review from Down Beat upon its initial release.
Following his service with Burton, Coryell joined with saxophonist Steve “The Count” Marcus to form Count's Rock Band. The group was rounded out by Chris Hills and Bob Moses from the Free Spirits, New Zealand-born keyboardist Mike Nock, and percussionist Chris Swanson. Their assimilation of rock elements was more overt than in Burton's quartet. Pop song covers and Nock's kitschy harpsichord assured a young following for Count's Rock Band for a time. The group's self-titled debut album was released in '69 on the Vortex label (an Atlantic subsidiary), concurrently with Marcus' own effort, The Lord's Prayer.
This Collectables two-fer combines a pair of Marcus-centered albums from '69 that cross over between jazz and rock with varying degrees of success. There's “hippie” written all over much of this, but in a fairly pleasing way. “Theresa's Blues”, “Scarborough Fair”, Chris Hills' “Ooh Baby”, Bob Moses' lovely ballad “Amy”, Miroslav Vitous' “Hope”, and the lushly orchestrated “T. with Strings” are the high points and well worth the price. The Count's material suffers a bit from questionable accordion sections and puny solo interludes. But despite the featherweight melody, the Stones' “Back Street Girl” is priceless for its headlong leap into free-jazz fury. The Lord's Prayer material is even sketchier: the eight-minute “Hey Jude” plods along like a zombie, drummer Larry Clark thinks far too much of himself, “The Lord's Prayer” doesn't make for good free jazz, and the godawful kid-with-her-recorder rendition of “America” is a national insult. But the myriad faults aside, this two-fer still has some excellent, innovative music to recommend it. For historical purposes, pick it up and then program your player selectively.
From his development of cool jazz in the late 40s on, Miles Davis was one of the most consistently innovative musicians in jazz. His relaxed, Harmon-muted style of bop in the mid-50s gave way to modal scale experiments, ambiguous forms sans chords, tense ostinato pieces, and finally the blending of acoustic and electronic instruments. It's said that Miles' confluence of jazz and rock stemmed as much from Columbia Records' threats to drop him if he didn't produce more hits as from his personal pursuit of innovation. Whatever the cause, Davis brought in a succession of keyboard players who concentrated on electric piano and organ: Joe Zawinul, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, Keith Jarrett. These fresh sounds added vitality and rich textures to Davis' band, and the music created around the new instruments was like little heard before. His first full-body leap into jazz-rock fusion came with In A Silent Way (1969, Columbia) in close collaboration with Zawinul, who had previously dealt out masterful soul-jazz with Cannonball Adderley's groups. The album was a clarion call to forward-minded players and fans, a firm indication that the new music could indeed be successfully combined with the old.
On the ground-breaking In A Silent Way , the acoustic instruments of Davis, Wayne Shorter, Dave Holland and Tony Williams were combined with John McLaughlin's electric guitar, Joe Zawinul's organ, and the twin electric pianos of Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock. Each side of the original LP held a medley of two themes. Miles' 18-minute-plus “Shhh/Peaceful”, dramatically tense, followed by Zawinul's lovely title tune, buoyed by a bass drone and sporadic keyboard pulses. Partway through its proceedings, the more ominous minor theme of Miles' “It's About That Time” emerges, a subtle but telling change of mood. Both sides featured virtuosic playing by all the musicians, particularly the then-unfamiliar McLaughlin. The album has been reissued under the Columbia/Legacy imprint. The three discs in this set contain sessions from a six-month period (September '68 to February '69) when Miles was experimenting heavily with electronic instrumentation in a jazz context. Several of these tracks were originally issued on later albums: Filles de Kilimanjaro ('68); Water Babies ('76); Circle in the Round ('79); and Directions ('81). Other tracks are heard here for the first time. In finally hearing this continuum of music in the order in which the pieces were recorded, the progression from the forbidding modality of the Shorter/Williams acoustic band to the eventual funk-rock mayhem of Bitches Brew is made especially clear. Jack DeJohnette and Joe Chambers each hold the drum chair on certain tracks. This set sheds new light on the directions that Miles was considering in the period, smooths out some rough jumps in his discography, and offers a glimpse at the evolution of these timeless sessions. Essential and simply astonishing.
Davis followed In A Silent Way with a double-disc release that both broke new ground in studio technology and set his course for the next few years. Few albums can claim the controversy of Bitches Brew , recorded in August 1969 and engineered in an unusual cut-and-paste fashion by Teo Macero. Davis and his cadre recorded a huge volume of music over those three days, which Macero then assembled into a shocking collage of funky bass ostinatos, crushingly powerful solo snippets, echo effects, and some of the loudest ensemble work ever recorded up to that time. Wayne Shorter's soprano and John McLaughlin's fiery electric guitar slice furiously through the dance-beat jungle conjured by Chick Corea, Jack DeJohnette, acoustic bassist Dave Holland, bass guitarist Harvey Brooks, and the rest of the entourage. The “Complete” reissue includes alternates and outtakes culled from the mountain of tape Macero initially wove into a frightening masterpiece, some of which were later issued on Big Fun and Circle in the Round. Even if you end up hating it, Bitches Brew is one of those albums that one must hear in order to understand what followed it. Subsequent efforts like On The Corner and Get Up With It (all remastered and reissued by Columbia/Legacy in the past few years) drew from the Bitches Brew formula, until Davis' groove finally seemed to get stuck in a morass of sameness.
The late 60s saw a new vogue in rock bands sporting horn sections, with a few successes and many clones. Blood, Sweat and Tears and Chicago ruled the roost, with Tower of Power stirring in the funk later on. The Ides of March and vibist Mike Mainieri's White Elephant were less prosperous, while Chicago's The Flock have been all but forgotten. More's the pity, since their self-titled album is one of the best of the bunch. Led by guitarist Fred Glickstein, The Flock's ace in the hole was violinist Jerry Goodman, a long-haired wildman whose ferocious improvisations could levitate the bandstand.
A phenomenal release by an underappreciated force in jazz-rock fusion. The opening guitar/violin duo tips us off that this isn't your average album. Guitarist Fred Glickstein's singing and songwriting is reminiscent of the Jefferson Airplane's Marty Balin. Jerry Goodman's violin usually steals the show; his psychotic intro to the ultra-groovy cover of The Kinks' “Tired of Waiting” is a kick in the head. The funky horn line and “yeah, yeah” backing vocals stack up the good, clean fun.
Meanwhile, back in the UK, the members of the so-called “Canterbury school” were fashioning their own fusion hybrid. In 1968 drummer/singer Robert Wyatt, guitarist Kevin Ayres and organist Michael Ratledge formed the Soft Machine, which originally played an extension of the electric blues of Graham Bond and the Cream. Bassist Hugh Hopper joined in time for the band's second album, followed by saxophonist Elton Dean. After a few years the Soft Machine morphed from a blues-rock band into a jazz ensemble with rock undertones. They were one of Europe's most influential crossover bands during their decade of life, inspiring the eventual birth of Gong, Matching Mole, and other units. On the more soulful side of the tracks was keyboardist/singer Brian Auger, whose bands Trinity and Oblivion Express got down and funky for much of the 60s and 70s.
The first two Soft Machine albums, combined on one gloriously strange CD. Robert Wyatt's effeminate falsetto vocals are a stark contrast to Michael Ratledge's abrasive organ tone and Kevin Ayres' shimmering guitar. The music is schizophrenic at times, scooting quickly from tender ballad to rhythmic free-for-all. Psychedelic anthems share space with gentle interludes, white-boy R&B, and “The Concise British Alphabet” (forwards and backwards, yet). Horns are added for the avant-leaning “Out of Tunes” and Mingus-flavored “Orange Skin Food”, increasing the jazz profile. Essential if a tad bizarre.
Two discs of prime Auger, highlighting two dozen tracks including covers of Eddie Harris' “Freedom Jazz Dance”, Wes Montgomery's “Bumpin' on Sunset”, and Marvin Gaye's “Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)”, and originals like “Dragon Song” and “Second Wind”. Auger and friends at their soulful best.
Stateside, John McLaughlin joined ex-Davis drummer Tony Williams and organist Larry Young to form the trio Lifetime. Williams' aggressiveness complemented McLaughlin's acid attack and Young's angular technique in a mind-boggling union of technical expertise. Lifetime debuted on record in 1969 with Emergency! (Polydor), a brilliant showcase for the three men's exceptional talents. McLaughlin in particular barged brashly through the doors that Coryell had kicked open a few years prior, his scathing tone powerful enough to chip paint off the walls. Williams continued his climb into fusion prominence with his next band, Spectrum, while Young moved into free jazz until his untimely death in 1978. And, as he later revealed, McLaughlin had his own tricks up his sleeve.
The incendiary debut of a sensational fusion trio. From the first tense alarum of the opening track, Williams, John McLaughlin and Larry Young stage an unmerciful assault on the status quo of jazz. Young's anxious organ tone is especially disquieting all through the session. The double-tracked blues guitars of “Via the Spectrum Road” are marvelous. The sole downer here is Williams' unconvincing vocals, but they do little to tame the intensity of this unparalleled set.
In the summer of '71 McLaughlin formed his own multicultural group with ex-Flock violinist Jerry Goodman, Czech pianist Jan Hammer, Irish bassist Rick Laird and Panamanian drummer Billy Cobham. The Mahavishnu Orchestra was inspired by McLaughlin's interest in Indian musics and cultures, particularly the teachings of Sri Chinmoy, and the group's almost impenetrably complex music marked a new horizon in fusion's development. Loud volume, lightning speed and exotic time signatures and scales were among the hallmarks of Mahavishnu. For a few years McLaughlin's ensemble represented the pinnacle of fusion, but by 1974 the concept had grown thin and a mid-80s reunion simply fizzled.
The debut of one of fusion's most technically phenomenal bands. McLaughlin and company navigate harrowing original compositions with breakneck speed and unmatched articulation, resulting in music of fresh excitement and constant surprises. The leader's electric guitar is unbearably intense at times, while his acoustic work is gentle as a lamb. This is a band in the best sense of the word, each member contributing complementary parts to the greater whole.
Mahavishnu's second effort went gold and rode the Billboard charts for 11 weeks. Some of McLaughlin's exotic spirituality and Hammer's synthesizers seem a bit cloying in hindsight (in what other decade could the tiny noise clusters of “Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love” have been put to wax?) but the unbridled virtuosity and creativity here remain undiminished. The stunning sonic embroidery can still knock listeners flat on their backs, Cobham's insane pace gives veteran drummers pause, and McLaughlin's controlled burblings carry even more propulsive weight in this digital repackaging.
In 1973 Billy Cobham broke from the Mahavishnu ranks and became a bandleader in his own right, crafting some of the most exciting (and occasionally generic) fusion of the 70s and 80s. He started the ball rolling that year with Spectrum , an Atlantic issue which included Mahavishnu keyboardist Jan Hammer, session bassist Lee Sklar, and young guitar wizard Tommy Bolin. Later gatherings under the titanic drummer's leadership featured keyboardist George Duke, bassists John Williams, Alphonso Johnson and Alex Blake, the Brecker Brothers (trumpeter Randy and reedman Michael), guitarists John Scofield and John Abercrombie, and many others. Rudiments collects some of Cobham's best tracks recorded for the Atlantic label, focusing largely upon his amazing drum skills and respectable compositions.
Despite the work of Jerry Goodman and other pioneers, it was Jean-Luc Ponty who almost single-handedly carved a niche for the violin within fusion. From his earliest efforts with Frank Zappa (the wonderful King Kong ) through his mega-hit 1970s albums like Imaginary Voyage , Ponty was the voice of fusion violin for a couple of decades. In the 90s his star faded a bit as he returned to France and took part in specialty projects like The Rite of Strings, with guitarist Al DiMeola and bassist Stanley Clarke, but he quickly returned to prominence in the new century.
A “best-of” that's truly worthy of its title, this release collects sixteen of Ponty's best tracks from his 1970s heyday. He performs on both acoustic and electric violins on favorites such as “Infinite Pursuit”, “Bowing-Bowing” (with guest Patrice Rushen on keys), “Cosmic Messenger”, “New Country”, and “Enigmatic Ocean, Part 3”.
Keyboardist Chick Corea also built a platinum career after his tenure with Miles Davis. After some excellent acoustic albums and a brief dabbling in free jazz with the quartet Circle, Corea went in a completely new direction in 1971 with his band Return To Forever. Originally a mostly acoustic ensemble featuring Brazilian singer Flora Purim and her husband, percussionist Airto Moreira, RTF blossomed into a powerful fusion group with guitarist Al DiMeola, electric bassist Stanley Clarke and drummer Lenny White among its heavies.
Given the absence of a really good overview of RTF's output (both the Columbia Best Of and Sony's This Is Jazz, Vol. 12 , devoted to the band, are insufficient), this 1976 release is probably the best starting place to appreciate the band in their prime. (Its Grammy-winning predecessor, No Mystery , is ironically unavailable now.) Corea, DiMeola, Clarke and White were at the peak of their group intuitiveness here, and the themes were among the band's most entertaining. The tunes by DiMeola were especially exciting, demonstrating the rock-tinged chops that he later let slide in favor of more introspective forms. RTF subsequently became a “horn band” with Joe Farrell and four other wind-blowers, and the music lost a great deal of its edge. Romantic Warrior was sort of the last hurrah of a truly great concept. Clarke went on to become one of the most inspirational bassists in contemporary music, though a string of poorly executed albums bogged him down in sorry funk and soul gunk.
After departing Return To Forever, DiMeola became yet another of Columbia's shining fusion stars with a series of impressive albums between 1975 and 1983. This collection showcases the best of those discs, centered upon his mind-boggling chops and equal appreciation of Latin and classical forms. His sidemen here include guitarist Anthony Jackson, drummers Steve Gadd, Alphonse Mouzon and Lenny White, bassist Jaco Pastorius, keyboardist Jan Hammer, and even Genesis drummer Phil Collins on one track. Unlike Corea, Clarke, and many of his other contemporaries, DiMeola's recordings from this period tend to sound fresh and exciting even a quarter-century along. “Land of the Midnight Sun”, “Race With Devil on Spanish Highway” Corea's “Senor Mouse”, “Bianca's Midnight Lullaby”, and “Egyptian Danza” are among the high points of this two-disc compendium.
Like RTF, Weather Report began its life as an almost acoustic ensemble. Keyboardist Joe Zawinul and saxophonist Wayne Shorter, two more Davis alumni, formed the band's core for its whole life. The original incarnation of Weather Report, a quintet with bassist Miroslav Vitous, drummer Alphonse Mouzon and percussionist Airto Moreira, released their self-titled debut on Columbia in 1971. A large number of personnel changes then ensued, particularly in the drum and percussion chairs (only Spinal Tap was harder on drummers!) In 1973 Vitous was replaced by the more funk-minded Alphonso Johnson, an highly impressive bassist who was unfortunately overshadowed by his own replacement: Jaco Pastorius. The double-jointed, maniacally animated Jaco soon became the be-all and end-all of electric bass, his stupendous technique and imagination inspiring the next full generation of bassists and almost obscuring his bandmates' contributions to Weather Report's awesome presence. Heavy Weather , from 1977, gave the band its biggest hit (”Birdland”) and a #1 spot on the Billboard jazz chart. After Jaco's departure, Victor Bailey held the bass chair for a few more years until Weather Report folded in 1985, Shorter deciding to move on to new adventures. Zawinul briefly attempted to keep the ship afloat as Weather Update, with guitarist Steve Khan up front, but to little avail.
An excellent collection of mid-period WR tracks, skipping the earliest days with Miroslav Vitous and a few later misses like the band's swansong, This Is This. Produced by Bob Belden, the anthology includes major hits like “Birdland” and “A Remark You Made” along with less-remembered gems like “The Elders” and the Zawinul-Shorter duet “Blackthorn Rose”. About as good as a single-disc collection could be; thankfully, almost all of WR's albums have been reissued on CD so one can fill in the gaps. The double-disc Live and Unreleased (2002, Columbia/Legacy) presents many superior concert performances with few disappointments evident.
John Francis Pastorius, the self-proclaimed “World's Greatest Bass Player”, took the jazz market by storm with his 1976 debut album. Filled to the brim with his signature bravado (how many other people would attempt a solo bass version of Charlie Parker's “Donna Lee”?) Jaco set the standard for bassists worldwide with his use of true and false harmonics (”Portrait of Tracy”, “Continuum”), fleet fingerstyle, and wholly original conceptions. Guests include Herbie Hancock and soul singers Sam and Dave.
In the 1980s fusion faced a quick descent from marketplace popularity, as audiences started seeking more personally relative musical and emotional content without all the showy chops that typified what fusion had come to represent. Guitarist Allan Holdsworth was one of the few artists to continue expanding the fusion umbrella without descending into either rock or smooth jazz. The rise of grunge and thrash-metal on the rock side, and glossy-slick contemporary jazz on the other end, meant more nails in the coffins of fusion and its homely cousin, hair-band heavy metal.
In the period before Holdsworth fell in love with the Synthaxe and completely changed the face of fusion once again, he was one of the most gifted electric guitarists in the business. His fleet, legato phrasing and pinpoint-accurate use of the tremolo bar were but two signatures of his unique and influential style. This head-spinning album features vocalist Paul Williams, bassist Jimmy Johnson, ex-Zappa drummer Chad Wackerman, and some of Holdsworth's most sizzling guitar work. The title track and “Devil Take The Hindmost” are highlights.
In the mid-1990s, however, a gradual resurgence of interest began creeping back into the industry. Some musicians who had previously let technical skill take the place of musical quality realized their error and began to temper their performances with moderation and more appreciable tunes. Meanwhile, some listeners who had grown tired of what 1990s radio had to offer — increasingly bare-bones music made by people with little or no formal training but plenty of personality flaws — started craving the sort of visceral excitement they had gotten from fusion in times past. With the establishment of Tone Center, a label associated with the Shrapnel rock/metal umbrella, fusion reclaimed a firm hold on the marketplace. Drummer Steve Smith, formerly of Journey and presently of fusion powerhouse Vital Information, plays a key role in Tone Center's A&R and production. Other imprints like Intuition and Favored Nations (founded by shred-metal star Steve Vai) began turning out excellent fusion-oriented albums by Vital Information, bassist Stu Hamm, guitarists Steve Lukather and Larry Carlton, and other artists. The past few years have seen a consistent number of outstanding fusion releases hit the market running.
Tribal Tech is one of the most prominent ensembles to come out of the new wave of fusion. Guitarist Scott Henderson, bassist Gary Willis, keyboardist Scott Kinsey, and drummer Kirk Covington skillfully navigate the factors that made fusion great: complex but gripping tunes, the highest level of musicianship and technical prowess, and a good dose of fun. Rocket Science is one of their best offerings yet, giving a good-spirited nod to the cheesy sci-fi soundtracks of yore while ever pushing their music towards new frontiers. Danceable, full of laughs, and awe-inspiring by turns.
Another successful team: Tribal Tech guitarist Scott Henderson, drummer Steve Smith, and bassist Victor Wooten of bluegrass-jazz mavens Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. This trio really hit their stride on their sophomore release, blending effortlessly with one another as they pushed their instruments and creativity to the limits. Henderson is simply in a class by himself, a walking textbook of guitar technique and classy note selectivity. .
Not to sound like a cheerleader for Tone Center or Steve Smith, but this listing should give you some idea of the high quality of modern fusion under their guidance. This time Smith is teamed with Aussie guitarist Frank Gambale and former Joe Satriani bassist Stuart Hamm on a session marked by startling empathy and exquisite songcraft. Smith's drum layers and Hamm's slaps and pops are sweet complements to Gambale's blissful melodicism.
A two-disc set of hot highlights from VI's successful world tour. Smith, Gambale, keyboardist Tom Coster, and new bassist Baron Browne play an interesting variety of material including John Coltrane's “Mr. P.C.”, Led Zeppelin's “Moby Dick” (which kicks off with a finger-busting solo by Browne), Ornette Coleman's “Happy House”, and Carlos Santana's “Europa” (with co-writer Coster on accordion). Always enjoyable, rarely predictable.
In the long interim after Count's Rock Band and the Free Spirits, Larry Coryell played freely with the Jazz Composers Orchestra, got funky with Herbie Mann, and sailed back into fusion with his own Eleventh House. Later on, after kicking his alcohol habit, Coryell established a reputation as a reliable mainstream jazz guitarist of considerable talent. Saxman Steve Marcus, his erstwhile cohort, spent over a decade in Buddy Rich's band with various other projects on the side. In 2001 Tone Center managed to reunite the two old buddies under the appropriate moniker Count's Jam Band, giving them a chance to revisit older material and craft bright new creations as well.
The long-awaited reunion of Steve Marcus and Larry Coryell, now in the company of Steve Smith and bassist Kai Eckhardt. Excellent alterations of older favorites like “Foreplay”, “Scotland”, and “Tomorrow Never Knows”, a pensive “Ballad for Soprano and Guitar”, and more. Jam-band veteran Jeff Chimenti sits in on piano for a couple of tracks. Marcus has been sorely underappreciated as a soprano saxophonist, and Coryell proves that he has lost little of his grand old fire. An essential document of contemporary fusion.
After a rather quiet period of reflection and experimentation, Ponty re-emerged in 2001 with his own label and this marvelous offering. Life Enigma reconfigures the pop consciousness of his past into a sound more appropriate for the new century, with Ponty's violin sometimes run through a Synclavier for beautiful washes of color and texture
Jazz Quotes
...it bugs me when people try to analyze jazz as an intellectual theorem. It's not. It's feeling.
~ Bill Evans
Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that's creativity.
~ Charles Mingus
Jazz is a feeling, more than anything else. It isn't music, it's language...
~ Enos Payne
Jazz isn't dead, it just smells funny.
~ Frank Zappa
Only play what you hear. If you don't hear anything, don't play anything.
~ Chick Corea
Boxing is like jazz, the better it is, the less people appreciate it.
~ George Foreman
Life is a lot like jazz... it's best when you improvise...
~ George Gershwin
~ Dizzy Gillespie
I'm not here to raise hippie consciousness, I'm here to wet some panties.
~ Jaco Pastorius
Music is born out of the inner sounds within a soul; all the music that was ever heard came from the inner silence in every musician.
~ John McLaughlin
[Jazz singing] is like pornography. You can't say what it is, but you know it when you see it.
~ Kurt Elling
Man, if you have to ask what it (jazz) is, you'll never know.
~ Louis Armstrong
When you're creating your own shit, even the sky ain't the limit.
~ Miles Davis
Jazz is freedom. You think about that.
~ Thelonius Monk
I'll play it first and tell you what it is later.
~ Miles Davis
Jazz For You # Joshua Redman
Joshua Redman, one of the most consistently creative musicians of his generation, a fiend on whatever saxophone he chooses to pick up, and a thoughtful, imaginative person, is at it again.
He’s not re-inventing the wheel, he says with a chuckle when discussing Back East (Nonesuch, 2007). But this exploring musician has gone back to an acoustic format. Specifically, a piano-less trio, the type of thing Sonny Rollins wowed critics with in the 1950s. Others have done it too. It’s not even new to Redman, but it’s a change after playing for the last couple of years in a larger band —the SFJazz Collective—and his more groove-based Elastic Band that features guitar, keyboards and other electronics.
Back East is at once an examination of the trio format, a dabbling into Eastern music elements that have intrigued Redman over the years, a tribute to some of his great influences of the past—Rollins, Stan Getz, John Coltrane and Wayne Shorter— and a re-acquaintance with some present day saxmen that have been an inspiration to him. It also, even if inadvertently, presents some poignant musical moments with his father, Dewey Redman, the saxophonist extraordinaire who died months after the recording. The Back East is the last time the pair played together. It was the last time Joshua saw his dad except for just prior to his death when the extent of the illness beckoned the son from his California home to New York.
Redman isn’t new to this trio format. He played it a lot jamming around the Boston scene while going to school at Harvard University. After graduating summa cum laude, then deciding to turn down his acceptance to Yale Law School and move to New York to pursue music, he experienced the trio setting there as well. “But it’s never been a format that I’ve chosen to tour extensively with or to record with. I think part of the reason is I never really felt ready. I’m not entirely sure that I’m ready now,” he says with a disarming chuckle.
Redman, always one who likes a musical challenge, was looking for another project. He said his work in the last couple of years in aggregations that were thick with sound, by the sheer number of players and by context, led him to seek out something more stripped-down.
As simple as it may seem, the piano-less trio is not an area where players should tread lightly. Redman approaches it with respect. In his playing and writing there’s introspection that leads to invention. There’s experimentation that leads to discovery. There are thoughtfully written schemes over which to improvise. And there is a good fit with the three rhythm sections he chose to help carry out his ideas. This is done by the teams of Christian McBride on bass with Brian Blades on drums; Larry Grenadier on bass and Ali Jackson on drums; and the bass of Reuben Rogers with drummer Eric Harland. They are not musical strangers to Redman, and so there is a cohesiveness achieved. The guest artists, saxophonists Joe Lovano, Chris Cheek and Dewey Redman, are all people who Redman respects a great deal.
As Back East implies in the title, it’s an album that has Eastern musical influences on many of the tunes, whether it’s Coltrane’s “India” or Redman’s own “Zarafah.” But that’s not the whole disk. He said he heard Rollins’ classic Way Out West (Contemporary, 1957) for the first time in years and it inspired him to investigate some of that music (“I’m An Old Cowhand” and “Wagon Wheels”). There are also nods to Trane, Shorter and Getz. But through it all, Redman remains himself. His facility on the horn, as always remarkable, enables him to spread his sound across the arrangements with power, when need be, but also with of and interesting phrasing befitting some of the music he heard growing up.
“I guess I craved the intimacy and the openness of trio,” says Redman. “I felt like maybe I had gotten to a place, musically, where I felt ready to take on a project like this. That’s kind of how it started.”
The music makes a strong statement and further entrenches Redman as one of the most captivating artists on the scene, always worthy of one’s attention. His reworking of songs done by Rollins is superb, because it is re-working, and Redman carries his own sound and attitude. His playful lines with Lovano show two saxophonists who love to see what is going on in the moment. And his work with his father shows a simpatico between the two, and yet shows two distinct artists in their own right. The support by all three rhythm sections is excellent.
Not many people are making albums like this. But Redman is one who puts his passion for the music first and not business considerations. He realizes that to be a successful artist, music has to be done for the love of it. He has always looked for ways to be creative, to step forward. He’s succeeded here.
Just prior to going out on tour in support of the new music with a trio—a journey that will take him to places like the Montreal Jazz Festival, as well as several dates in Europe—Redman spoke with All About Jazz about the music on his eleventh recording as a leader.
All About Jazz: The new CD is not only a return to acoustic, but a piano-less trio. How did it come about for you? How did it get in your mind that you wanted to do it?
Joshua Redman: It’s always been an exciting context for me to work in because of all the freedom there is. Without piano or guitar, or a dedicated harmonic instrument, there’s a tremendous amount of freedom that’s available to all of us, the saxophone player in particular. There’s a lot of harmonic freedom and along with that comes a great deal of melodic freedom. It’s a very open context, but it’s also kind of raw, naked and intimate context as well. But it’s really challenging, because when you don’t have a dedicated harmonic instrument, all the harmonic responsibility essentially falls upon the saxophonist and the bassist. It can be intimidating. It took me a while before I thought I was ready to do a whole project devoted to that sound and that approach.
The time just felt right. The two main bands I had been working with before this, the Elastic Band and the SF Jazz Collective, were very thick bands. In the case of the Jazz Collective, it’s an eight-piece ensemble with a four-horn front line, vibes and piano. You’ve got a lot of harmony. In the Elastic Band, even though it was only three or four musicians, once again there was a lot of sound. Lots of keyboards, guitars, effects.
Originally, I thought I just wanted to do a trio record. I had some material and I’d get deeper into that and craft some songs for that format. Then these other concepts started to take shape. This idea of doing these arrangements of these tunes Sonny Rollins had done on Way Out West. Then it took on all these other concepts that started to emerge.
JR: Yeah. [laughs]. When I was working on this music, I kind of heard that (Way Out West) again for the first time in maybe ten years. I was really inspired to immediately try my own takes on some of that music. But I don’t really like to listen to myself next to Sonny Rollins. [chuckles] It’s a pretty humbling experience. I try not to play the music back to back. I don’t play my record at all so that makes it easy.
AAJ: It sounds good, and you didn’t give the exact same feel to it.
JR: That was really important. That would have been musical suicide if I tried to do the same arrangement and approach of Sonny Rollins. Obviously his influence is huge on me. He’s probably my biggest influence as a saxophonist and as an improviser. But the way I tried to approach the music was with different grooves, different tempos, different arrangements. In the case of “Wagon Wheels,” a completely different coloration. Sonny Rollins did it slow, loping, kind of cowboy-ish song. My approach has more of a Middle Eastern flavor to it. It has a different time signature, a different key.
AAJ:You have a lot of Eastern feel and influence in some of the tunes you use on the recording.
JR: It’s there. It’s something that is part of my musical upbringing and musical roots. But not in a studied way at all. My mom [Renee Shedroff] exposed me to all kinds of music at a very early age. Not just Western music, like jazz and classical and rock and funk—which I was exposed a lot to. She was a dancer and she loved Indian dance and music and Indonesian dance and music. She took me to a lot of concerts. In the Bay area [Oakland area, where Redman grew up] in the early ‘70s, there was a lot of opportunity to experience those non-Western art forms.
| “Without piano or guitar, or a dedicated harmonic instrument, there’s a tremendous amount of freedom that’s available to all of us, the saxophone player in particular” |
I feel like those sounds are there. They’ve always been there, kind of a part of my musical perspective; the way my ears are tuned to harmony and to melody. But I never really studied that music. To the extent that those sounds come out in my music—and in this record they come out in a lot more explicit way than in previous projects—it’s not through a deep knowledge or analysis of those forms. It’s not in a formal way. I don’t know different ragas, I don’t play with different beats cycles that come in a structural way from these musics. It’s more just a feel and a flavoring that in a certain sense have to do more with these musical sounds that have been in my ears for a long time, since I was very young.
I should stress that there are a lot of jazz musicians out there that have immersed themselves in these musics and really know them. I’m not one of those musicians. I haven’t studied the form.
AAJ:Some of the other tunes taken from Wayne Shorter, Coltrane. That’s obviously from their influence on you as a saxophone player.
JR:Yeah. Originally when I started working on the material, I was focusing mostly on original compositions. Then I had this burst of inspiration to arrange those Sonny Rollins Songs from Way Out West. After I was done I felt … not satisfied, but like: Wow. I can do this now. I can take these songs that were recorded and played by these iconic saxophone players and do them in a way that wasn’t just repetition, re-creation. I could do them in a way where I felt I could really have my own sound and identity through them.
Once I did the Sonny Rollins songs, it opened the door to involving myself musically with some of my other saxophone influences, so I decided to do a Coltrane [“India”] song and the Wayne Shorter song [“Indian Song”]. “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” even though Stan Getz didn’t write it, it’s a song I associate with him. I know it from a record he did called West Coast Jazz (Universal, 1955), which also fell into this east-west concept.
This idea of influences, saxophone influences in particular, became a part of the project. Through that I was inspired to ask some great saxophonists who I knew, who were influences—my father and Chris Speed and Joe Lovano—to play with me.
It started because I just wanted to do a trio record. Little by little these other concepts started to emerge to the point where there are so many different layers. It’s nice. I’ve always shunned the idea of a concept record, in the sense that I never want the concepts to dictate the music, I want the concepts to flow from the music. In this sense I kind of felt like they did. But in the end, the only value, if there is value, is the music itself.
AAJ:How much time do you spend writing? Is it difficult? Is it something that you do just when you feel it? Or can you sit down and write when you have to on a deadline?
JR:Yes. [laughs]. I don’t have a method. When I started working on the music for this project, some of the music was already written. But there were a few months when I kind of created all of the music, whether it was original or arranged. It came in that burst. With writing it comes in waves for me sometimes. I’ll go through long periods when I don’t write anything, and then I might have a burst of creativity, or I feel inspired or focused to do that.
I’m starting to realize that writing doesn’t necessarily have to be this mystical creative process that I used to think it was. I used to think, “I can’t write anything until I’m inspired.” And I can’t summon inspiration. So it just kind of has to happen when it happens. Part of me still feels like that, but a part of me also feels like part of it is just making the commitment to write. If I say I’m going to just sit down and write, that doesn’t really mean I’m going to sit down and immediately write this incredible tune, but… Part of it is just the process, committing yourself to the process, and through the process you’ll find something. I might start writing a tune that may get jettisoned, but there’s some kernel that comes out of it; it becomes the seed for something else.
If I want to be more prolific as a writer, it’s kind of simple. I just have to write more. [laughs].
AAJ:Which isn’t always easy.
JR:: Which isn’t. Especially when you have a kid.
JR:I picked each rhythm section first of all because individually, these guys are among my favorite musicians. But also because I had played with each rhythm section a fair amount in different contexts. I’d also played with of them in trio. They’re all great and they’re all very different. I like the idea of a variety of sounds and approaches for this record. I still wanted it to be very focused, and hopefully it is. But because it’s such a simple format from an instrumental standpoint, one of the challenges is having variety, having different tunes sound and feel different. Because when you don’t have the chords, you sometimes run the risk of everything sounding the same. I like the idea of having these different flavors and this variety. I thought having different rhythm sections would help. I knew each one would have a unique approach and hopefully bring something exciting to it.
AAJ:Joe Lovano, Chris Speed and your father, how was that planned? Especially with your father. Did you say, “Yeah. I want him to be on this record,” or did it evolve differently?
JR:At a certain point I thought about having some special guests and in particular having some saxophonists who had been big influences on me at different times in my musical development. It fit with the concept of playing the music of these great master saxophonists like Coltrane and Rollins and Shorter and Getz, who I had never met or interacted with, but were big influences. I liked the idea of bringing in some saxophonists who were huge influences, but in a more direct way. Musicians I had played with, saxophonists I had listened to and played with. I naturally thought of each of these guys. Each them is from a different generation. Each has been a big influence on me in different ways at different times.
As far as my Dad, I asked him to play a tune on my next record. I wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Every time we played together before this, it was always, as it should have been, in one of his projects, in his band or on his record. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but he said yes. At that point I asked Joe and Chris and they both said yes.
AAJ:That has to be one of the last recordings your father made.
JR:Yeah. I don’t know that he did another recording after that. He recorded that in the middle of May [2006] and passed away very early in September.
AAJ:I know he was still out playing.
JR:Yeah, he did some gigs. I don’t know that he went into the studio after that. It was the last time that we played together. It was the first time we recorded together for over ten years and the first time we played together for, I think, five. It was the last time we recorded together and played together and actually the last time I saw him until right before he passed away.
JR:Yeah. “India,” that was the tune we were supposed to do. I came up with an idea for a simple arrangement that I thought would be nice for us to play together. I was really happy with the way it turned out. We both had a lot of fun. It was nice to play a Coltrane tune, which was appropriate. I really liked the interaction that happened between us.
That’s true with all the saxophone players. I really tried to structure the tune so it wasn’t really just about two tenor players playing a bunch of tenor player stuff. I really wanted each song in a different way, in its own way, to feel like a conversation. That worked out really well with my Dad.
“GJ” was kind of a surprise. He asked to record something without me. He did it one take. I wasn’t even there. I stepped out of the studio. It’s a dedication to his grandson, to my son, who was born in February (2006). He had met time one time, in April. So that song, originally, I didn’t know what we were going to do with it. I didn’t know if I was necessarily going to put it on the album. But after he passed away, it has a lot of significance and I thought it would be a nice coda.
AAJ:The disk sounds great. You have gigs with that format?
JR:I’ve got a gig in Boston coming up with Christian and Brian. Right after that I go to D.C. and play four nights with Larry and Ali, then in June I start touring with Reuben and Eric, so I’m actually gigging at different times with all three rhythm sections.
AAJ:Any idea about future projects?
JR: I haven’t toured that much over the last year and a half. Mostly with the Jazz Collective and that’s only been about a month and a half out of the year. So I want to focus on getting back out there with the trio and playing the music, and hopefully writing some new music.
I have a lot of ideas about future projects, but I kind of don’t like talking about them until I start to do them. I try not to get too far ahead of myself. I try to be in the moment as much as possible.
Selected Discography
Joshua Redman, Back East (Nonesuch, 2007)
SFJazz Collective, SFJazz Collective 2 (Nonesuch, 2006)
Joshua Redman, Momentum (Nonesuch, 2005)
SFJazz Collective, SFJazz Collective (Nonesuch, 2005)
Kurt Rosenwinkel, Deep Song (Verve, 2005)
Roy Haynes, Love Letters (Columbia, 2003)
Joshua Redman, Elastic (Warner Bros., 2002)
Yaya3, Yaya3 (Loma, 2002)
Joshua Redman, Beyond (Warner Bros., 2000)
Joshua Redman, Passage of Time (Warner Bros., 2001)
Joshua Redman, Timeless Tales (For Changing Times) (Warner Bros., 1998)
Chick Corea, Remembering Bud Powell (Stretch, 1997)
Joshua Redman, Spirit of the Moment: Live at the Village Vanguard (Warner Bros., 1995)
Joshua Redman, Moodswing (Warner Bros., 1994)
McCoy Tyner, Prelude and Sonata (Milestone, 1994)
Joshua Redman, Wish (Warner Bros., 1993)
Paul Motian and the Electric Bebop Band, Paul Motian and the Electric Bebop Band (Winter&Winter, 1992)
Taken from All About Jazz Website
Jazz For You # John Coltrane
A Love Supreme
John Coltrane was, after Charlie Parker, the most revolutionary and widely imitated saxophonist in jazz. Coltrane grew up in High Point, North Carolina, where he learned to play E-flat alto horn, clarinet, and (at about the age of 15) alto saxophone. After moving to Philadelphia he enrolled at the Ornstein School of Music and the Granoff Studios; service in a navy band in Hawaii (1945-46) interrupted these studies. He played alto saxophone in the bands led by Joe Webb and King Kolax, then changed to the tenor to work with Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson (1947-48). He performed on either instrument as circumstances demanded while in groups led by Jimmy Heath, Howard McGhee, Dizzy Gillespie (with whom he made his first recording in 1949), Earl Bostic, and lesser-known rhythm-and-blues musicians, but by the time of his membership in Johnny Hodges's septet (1953-54) he was firmly committed to the tenor instrument. He performed infrequently for about a year, then leaped to fame in Miles Davis' quintet with Red Garland, Paul Chambers, and Philly Joe Jones (1955-57).
Throughout the 1950s addiction to drugs and then alcoholism disrupted his career. Shortly after leaving Davis, however, he overcame these problems; his album A Love Supreme celebrated this victory and the profound religious experience associated with it. Coltrane next played in Thelonious Monk's quartet (July-December 1957), but owing to contractual conflicts took part in only one early recording session of this legendary group. He rejoined Davis and worked in various quintets and sextets with Cannonball Adderley, Bill Evans, Chambers, Jones, and others (1958-60). While with Davis he discovered the soprano saxophone, purchasing his own instrument in February 1960.
Having led numerous studio sessions, established a reputation as a composer, and emerged as the leading tenor saxophonist in jazz, Coltrane was now prepared to form his own group; it made its debut at New York's Jazz Gallery in early May 1960. After briefly trying Steve Kuhn, Pete La Roca, and Billy Higgins, Coltrane hired two musicians who became longstanding members of his quartet, McCoy Tyner (1960-65) and Elvin Jones (1960-66); the third, Jimmy Garrison, joined in 1961. With these sidemen the quartet soon acquired an international following. At times Art Davis added a second double bass to the group; Eric Dolphy also served as an intermittent fifth member on bass clarinet, alto saxophone, and flute from 1961 to 1963, and Roy Haynes was the most regular replacement for Elvin Jones during the latter's incarceration for drug addiction in 1963.
Coltrane turned to increasingly radical musical styles in the mid-1960s. These controversial experiments attracted large audiences, and by 1965 he was surprisingly affluent. From autumn 1965 his search for new sounds resulted in frequent changes of personnel in his group. New members included Pharoah Sanders, Alice Coltrane (his wife), Rashied Ali (a second drummer until Jones' departure), several drummers as seconds to Ali, and a number of African-influenced percussionists. In his final years and after his death, Coltrane acquired an almost saintly reputation among listeners and fellow musicians for his energetic and selfless support of young avant-garde performers, his passionate religious convictions, his peaceful demeanor, and his obsessive striving for a musical ideal. He died at the age of 40 of a liver ailment. A videotape tracing his development, The Coltrane Legacy, produced by David Chertok and Burrill Crohn, was issued in 1987.
Throughout the 1950s addiction to drugs and then alcoholism disrupted his career. Shortly after leaving Davis, however, he overcame these problems; his album A Love Supreme celebrated this victory and the profound religious experience associated with it. Coltrane next played in Thelonious Monk's quartet (July-December 1957), but owing to contractual conflicts took part in only one early recording session of this legendary group. He rejoined Davis and worked in various quintets and sextets with Cannonball Adderley, Bill Evans, Chambers, Jones, and others (1958-60). While with Davis he discovered the soprano saxophone, purchasing his own instrument in February 1960.
Having led numerous studio sessions, established a reputation as a composer, and emerged as the leading tenor saxophonist in jazz, Coltrane was now prepared to form his own group; it made its debut at New York's Jazz Gallery in early May 1960. After briefly trying Steve Kuhn, Pete La Roca, and Billy Higgins, Coltrane hired two musicians who became longstanding members of his quartet, McCoy Tyner (1960-65) and Elvin Jones (1960-66); the third, Jimmy Garrison, joined in 1961. With these sidemen the quartet soon acquired an international following. At times Art Davis added a second double bass to the group; Eric Dolphy also served as an intermittent fifth member on bass clarinet, alto saxophone, and flute from 1961 to 1963, and Roy Haynes was the most regular replacement for Elvin Jones during the latter's incarceration for drug addiction in 1963.
Coltrane turned to increasingly radical musical styles in the mid-1960s. These controversial experiments attracted large audiences, and by 1965 he was surprisingly affluent. From autumn 1965 his search for new sounds resulted in frequent changes of personnel in his group. New members included Pharoah Sanders, Alice Coltrane (his wife), Rashied Ali (a second drummer until Jones' departure), several drummers as seconds to Ali, and a number of African-influenced percussionists. In his final years and after his death, Coltrane acquired an almost saintly reputation among listeners and fellow musicians for his energetic and selfless support of young avant-garde performers, his passionate religious convictions, his peaceful demeanor, and his obsessive striving for a musical ideal. He died at the age of 40 of a liver ailment. A videotape tracing his development, The Coltrane Legacy, produced by David Chertok and Burrill Crohn, was issued in 1987.
Thursday, 10 January 2008
The Golden Era : 1956-65
From All about Jazz
There are times when you have to hold back and let certain music speak for itself. This list of jazz masterpieces is exactly that kind of music. By definition, these records are without flaw. (Okay, so humans are inherently flawed, but you'll have to get out a microscope to find anything that falls short here.)
If you're just stepping into the jazz world, be assured that these recording signposts mark high points, turning points, and moments of sheer genius. In other words, required listening.
 | Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers: Moanin' (1958) Jazz's most explosive drummer debuted his third version of the Jazz Messengers with this instant hard-bop classic. It's way too funky in here, thanks to compositions and performances by Benny Golson, Lee Morgan, and Bobby Timmons (who contributed the famous title track). |
 | Dave Brubeck: Time Out (1959) What was conceived by pianist Brubeck as an adventure into unusual time signatures ended up one of the most successful records in jazz history, due in large part to its beautiful melodies and the mesmerizing alto work of Paul Desmond. |
 | Ornette Coleman: The Shape of Jazz to Come (1959) After four decades, this disc remains true to its title. Saxophonist Ornette Coleman solidified his group in 1959 to the working quartet recorded here. They broke convention and provided a major stepping stone on the road to free jazz. |
 | John Coltrane: Love Supreme (1964) One of Coltrane's most spiritually moving recordings, this disc has been popular among devotees and neophytes alike. It's a heart-felt celebration of divine love, with equal measures of devotion and exploration. |
 | Miles Davis: Kind of Blue (1959) The best-selling jazz recording of the era (and a perfect introduction for the jazz newbie), Kind of Blue helped introduce a new sound for jazz. Working from relatively simple structures, the musicians here lay out wonderfully lyrical extended improvisations. |
 | Eric Dolphy: Out to Lunch (1964) Eric Dolphy was always a big fan of bird calls, and much of his playing here reflects that natural sonority. This disc transports a relatively straightahead group into adventurous, inventive territory—with dramatically successful results. |
 | Bill Evans: Waltz for Debby & Live at the Village Vanguard (1961) The laid-back character of Bill Evans's piano playing here masks a serenely beautiful touch and wonderfully innovative ideas. His inhumanly intuitive interactions with bassist Scott LaFaro remain legendary. This is the best piano trio music ever recorded (and it's all live). |
 | Herbie Hancock: Maiden Voyage (1965) Pianist Herbie Hancock's best record adopts a nautical angle, with gentle waves of sound surrounding strong, forward-sailing melodies. Maiden Voyage relies upon subtlety, but it features wonderful group interaction and showcases some of Hancock's finest playing. |
 | Thelonious Monk: Brilliant Corners (1956) Quirky yet rigorously logical, Brilliant Corners is a triumph of composition and performance, a set heavy on Monk originals with Rollins, Roach and Pettiford along for the swing. Even its title describes Monk's angular genius. |
 | Oliver Nelson: Blues & The Abstract Truth (1961) Some of Nelson's best work - as a composer, arranger, AND saxophonist - features his large ensemble soulfully tight-roping arrangement and improvisation. A genuine masterpiece that has inspired musicians and arrangers for decades. |
 | Sonny Rollins: Saxophone Colossus (1956) Not just one of Rollins' great moments - one of the great “monster” jazz sessions of all time, and, in “St. Thomas,” one the first crossroads between Jazz and the Caribbean. |
 | Horace Silver: Song for My Father (1963) One of the first hard bop albums and also one of the greatest, and not just from that title track (honored in “Rikki Don't Lose That Number”) but also his classic “Lonely Woman.” |
 | Jimmy Smith: The Sermon (1958) A foreshadowing of Smith's awesome Chicken Shack and Midnight Special , and defining moment of organ jazz. Smith, Lee Morgan and Curtis Fuller testify on the side-long title track. |
Bios : John McLaughlin
Few tasks are more daunting than picking just ten of a great jazz artist's albums for a library collection. Each record adds in its own way to the appreciation of any artist. But in the case of guitarist John McLaughlin , choosing representative albums is made an even more difficult chore because so many of his records run at odd angles to each other. He seems to change styles so often that just keeping track can be a daunting task..This set of records spans thirty years and a huge variety of approaches. It's a fine place to start if you're curious about McLaughlin's many angles on improvised music.
 | 1969 John McLaughlin, Extrapolation (Polydor 841598) The guitarist's first efforts as a leader led to a classic recording which showcased the musician's European jazz roots in a modern jazz vein. |
 | 1970 Miles Davis, A Tribute To Jack Johnson (Columbia CK-47036) McLaughlin exploded onto the jazz scene with his ferocious playing on Miles Davis' 1970 record. The Jazz-blues-funk power chords McLaughlin unleashes on this recording still deserve attention. |
 | 1970 John McLaughlin, My Goal's Beyond (Knitting Factory 3010) It's hard to believe the same man that blew the fuses on Davis' album quieted down and produced the truly remarkable acoustic My Goal's Beyond. |
 | 1971 Mahavishnu Orchestra, The Inner Mounting Flame (Columbia/Legacy 65523) The Mahavishnu Orchestra came next with its debut album, The Inner Mounting Flame, which rocked both the jazz and popular music worlds. This was McLaughlin's true coming out party. |
 | 1976 Shakti with John McLaughlin, Shakti (Sony International 9178) Shakti introduced yet another John McLaughlin, a musician who had immersed himself into Indian music. This record presented a hybrid of jazz and far eastern modes that literally helped introduce the world music movement. |
 | 1978 John McLaughlin, Electric Guitarist (Columbia 46110) This record is noteworthy for the disparate styles and guest stars it featured. |
 | 1981 John McLaughlin, Al DiMeola, Paco DeLucia, Friday Night in San Francisco (Sony 65168) The guitar trio's debut record was a live performance which revolutionized the way the acoustic guitar is viewed in the pop world. Its influence is still felt today. |
 | 1994 John McLaughlin, After the Rain (Verve 527467) This organ trio with Joey DeFrancesco and Elvin Jones offered a significant showcase for McLaughlin to perform in a more straightahead jazz format. Many of these tunes are Coltrane compositions. |
 | 2000 John McLaughlin and The Heart of Things, Live In Paris (Verve 314 543 536-2) The Heart of Things showed the world that fusion music could still be exciting, and that Mr. McLaughlin was still its King. |
 | 2001 Remember Shakti, Saturday Night in Bombay (Verve 014164) Coming almost full circle, this Remember Shakti album references the excitement of the Guitar Trio from 20 years earlier, as well as McLaughlin's approach to world music and jazz. It exemplifies how the guitarist continues to strive to incorporate all of his musical knowledge into a fresh outlook. |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)