Jemeel Moondoc Quintet – Nostalgia in Times Square

Nostalgia in Times Square

Jemeel Moondoc QuintetNostalgia in Times Square Soul Note SN 1141 (1986)


In the 1980s there was an unmistakable “conservative” trend in jazz.  At its worst, this involved musicians picking some arbitrary point in time and disregarding all of jazz history beyond that point (Amish-style).  But not all music of this nature was so reactionary.  David Murray‘s Ming is often cited as the foundational document for another approach, one that took elements of the past and built upon them without being beholden to them.  Another example would be James Newton‘s The African Flower (The Music of Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn), with a bit more restrained tone.  Jemeel Moondoc’s Nostalgia in Times Square fits into this continuum.  Moondoc was a veteran of Cecil Taylor‘s student bands in the 1970s, and had jumped over to New York City where he enmeshed himself in the loft jazz scene there.  He has a pretty clear tone and identifiable voice.  It’s lyrical and precise, with an undercurrent of ironic humor.  The whole album takes off from older jazz styles, kind of a swinging hard bop form, but adds to that more modern solos.  Each soloist is free to deploy unusual squeaks, intervals and harmonies, but the music generally is anchored in a more defined rhythm and flirts with a somewhat conventional melodic and harmonic base much more than the free music of the preceding two decades.  Moondoc has a great band.  Bassist William Parker would return to the same framework two decades later with albums like Sound Unity and Petit oiseau.  If this album has a flaw it’s that it occasionally feels a little rough around the edges, like the band could have used some more time to play together before recording, as sometimes soloists seem to clash in ways not fully intended.  But that’s a petty concern with what is generally a very good album.

Directions in Music by Miles Davis – Filles de Kilimanjaro

Filles de Kilimanjaro

Directions in Music by Miles DavisFilles de Kilimanjaro Columbia CS 9750 (1969)


A huge leap forward in the evolution of what became known as jazz “fusion”.  Really one of the finer albums of Miles Davis’ long and storied career.  What made Filles de Kilimanjaro such an advance over Miles in the Sky was the way it subdued and extended the song structures while at the same time elevating the throb of the bass and the kick of the drumming, those seemingly contradictory impulses held together by punchier bursts of horn and keyboard playing that drifted somewhat away from the spotlight and integrated themselves into the songs.  The vamps drive the songs but also leave room for modulation and shifts into improvisational flourishes.  The bass, drums and keyboards trade off each other (see “Tout de suite”) to create tension and forward momentum.  The wind instruments aren’t presented as prominent soloists like in the past, but more as the equals of the rhythm section, which gets to rise to the forefront on a shared basis rather than being relegated to a merely supportive role. This may resemble traditional jazz more than the next few albums, like In a Silent Way and the epochal Bitches Brew, etc, etc.  There is still a clear purpose and distinctive sound achieved that refuses to step back from an increasingly militant — yet hopefully positive — mindset.  Most significantly, this album decisively tipped the balance away from traditional jazz and toward fusion.  This one is just (barely) a half step behind the very best of Davis’ records, which is saying a lot when it comes to arguably the single greatest recording artist of the 20th Century.  This also makes a pretty good entry point to the fusion era.

Lou Reed – Street Hassle

Street Hassle

Lou ReedStreet Hassle Arista AB-4169 (1978)


Perhaps everyone is familiar with the saying, “two wrongs don’t make a right.”  Well, along those same lines, Lou Reed’s Street Hassle might be seen as an attempt to make an album that succeeds by going about everything in the wrong way.  The album is an amalgam of live and studio recordings.  Reed and his band quote old songs, they use a muddy-sounding (and soon obsolete) recording technology, and seem to be against audience expectations.  Reed’s lyrics are also dumb, guttural, defiant, and contrarian. Far from being a liability, this is why the album works!  In fact, it might even be possible to say that songs like “Dirt” helped lay the foundation for the sludge rock of the 1980s — especially Flipper (who used a saxophone similarly on their quasi-hit “Sex Bomb”).  The first side of the album is great, with the title track being one of the very finest moments of Reed’s entire career, and the second side is fairly good too.

Miles Davis – Miles in the Sky

Miles in the Sky

Miles DavisMiles in the Sky Columbia CS 9628 (1968)


Miles in the Sky gives the impression that it is pandering to psychedelic pop/rock audiences, or that it is just a tentative and transitional effort nestled between more effective recordings of markedly different styles.  But such appearances are deceiving.  Miles Davis and his “second great quintet” were clearly expanding their horizons, and certainly were incorporating more elements of rock (and soul jazz).  Yet the results, however mellow the mood tends to be, are effective.  The album is often categorized as the worst of the Miles Davis Quintet’s late-1960s albums.  And it probably is.  But that says very little, because that band was releasing one classic after another.  This is still a very fine album.  And if nothing else, this might be drummer Tony Williams‘ best performance on record (perhaps rivaled only by his efforts on Sorcerer).  The entire album is a showcase for his relentlessly creative drumming, which never seems to stagnate or rest on repetitive structures yet somehow always seems engaging and connected to the flow of each song.  Keyboardist Herbie Hancock is clearly enthusiastic about the push toward rock music, though saxophonist Wayne Shorter, while his playing is good, seems the most hesitant about shifting away from the style he used in prior years.

Johnny Cash – Hello, I’m Johnny Cash

Hello, I'm Johnny Cash

Johnny CashHello, I’m Johnny Cash Columbia KCS 9943 (1970)


As the 1960s drew to a close, so did Johnny Cash’s era of concept albums, for the most part.  This was both a good and bad thing.  His concept albums were very hit-or-miss, and even at their best tended to include at least a little overwrought material, and at their worst could be downright embarrassing.  Cash could be faulted for trying too hard to force albums into a particular concept.  In the next two decades, the faults of his albums were almost the opposite.  It can feel like Cash gave up on putting effort into recording.  While he focused on touring (and, briefly, his TV show), he ceded control of the sound of his albums to various producers, many of whom did Cash no favors.  The problem was often one of declining sales and ill-advised schemes that grasped at gimmicks.  At other times, the problem was one of self-indulgence with some really disturbingly bad gospel and religious efforts.  Though not everything from the 1970s proved to be a waste.  Highlights from that period tended to be where Cash was in a more basic setting, framed almost like a singer-songwriter, going back to the way he sounded in the early 1960s.  To that was added a good amount of twang.  Hello, I’m Johnny Cash is one of the man’s more listenable albums of the era, one that another reviewer described as setting the tone for Cash’s output the rest of the decade (in truth, this sound only carried Cash through the first half of the decade).  Much of the material is good but not great, but there also is a noticeable lack of any major missteps.  One clear highlight is a duet with June Carter Cash on Tim Hardin‘s “If I Were a Carpenter.”  It’s a song that is perfectly suited to the singers and the one that really reflects the best of the simple but refined production style, with clear yet soft tones and varied yet unobtrusive accompaniment.  This is an enjoyable one for the Cash fan.

Johnny Cash – A Thing Called Love

A Thing Called Love

Johnny CashA Thing Called Love Columbia KC 31332 (1972)


The best things on A Thing Called Love are “Kate” and “Mississippi Sand,” which isn’t saying a whole lot.  Elvis did a superior recording of the title track.  There is a general lack of really good material here.  The album also never seems to come together.  The approach to many of the songs is disjointed, with guitar parts draped with vocal choruses and strings that just don’t quite fit.  Cash also struggles to find a good vocal cadence for many of the songs.  Cash himself has claimed some of his work around this time was marginal because his focus was instead on his movie and album project The Gospel Road.  In the end this one is not bad, and marginally more interesting than Any Old Wind That Blows, but otherwise it is one of Cash’s lesser albums of the early 1970s.

Johnny Cash – Any Old Wind That Blows

Any Old Wind That Blows

Johnny CashAny Old Wind That Blows Columbia KC-32091 (1973)


Weak songs, and very bland delivery.  Producer Larry Bulter dresses much of this up with strings, and the hollow, slick sound just passes by without making an impression.  The only surprise is the vague hippie-rock influence on “If I Had a Hammer.”  A re-recording of “Country Trash” on American III: Solitary Man is much superior.  Cash scored a few minor hits from the album, but in hindsight this is one of the least memorable of his early 1970s LPs.

Miles Davis – Nefertiti

Nefertiti

Miles DavisNefertiti Columbia CS 9594 (1968)


The title track here represents just about the peak of Miles’ second great quintet.  With Miles and Wayne Shorter playing a weary melody at a rather slow tempo, Tony Williams punctuates the song with sudden, quick fills and accents that seem to transform the entire song into a sketch of something great and elusive, beyond the ennui suggested by the horns.  Miles and Shorter mostly play the same melodic line over and over and over again, shifting registers and shifting harmonics in a way that tends toward the dissonant and existential.  Herbie Hancock‘s accompaniment is perfectly spare, appearing as if out of nowhere to play exactly and only the right notes.  Ron Carter on bass is active and unmoored from any sort of role as a mere timekeeper in the rhythm section.  There is a looseness to the performance, clearly influenced by the free jazz movement, but still bounded and organized.  Most significantly, the structure mediates the interactions of the players so that the lines between open (free) improvisation and pre-written composition blur, and all the players seem to have an equal — if still varied — role.  It’s a magnificent recording.  I have never completely warmed up to the album as a whole, mostly because of the songwriting featured in the latter part of the album, but I can’t deny this is a great offering.  To get a complete picture of Miles and his many groups, you’ll need investigate Nefertiti at some point, but Miles Smiles and E.S.P. should perhaps be investigated first.

Miles Davis – Milestones……

Milestones......

Miles DavisMilestones…… Columbia CL 1193 (1958)


This is an album I never quite understood, at least until recently.  Future Davis sideman Tony Williams loved it; I think he said it was a favorite.  Others love it too.  But why?  For the most part, it’s fairly straightforward hard bop. I guess, in retrospect, the late 1950s weren’t exactly a fertile time for jazz music (other than for the likes of Sun Ra, Cecil Taylor and Ornette Coleman, that is, none of whom achieved any meaningful commercial success).  It was generally a low point.  Sure, there were some good albums that appeared at that time, but most players were still milking either hard bop or cool styles for all they were worth.  The free players who hit big in the sixties either hadn’t fully developed their styles yet, or, more importantly, hadn’t found many recording or performance opportunities yet. Coltrane is here.  Yet Coltrane was a good but unremarkable player in Davis’ first great quintet.  He is starting to show signs of what he achieved on early albums like Giant Steps, but it was a few years after Milestones that Coltrane really became Coltrane.

What occurred to me recently was that this album represents and complacency and bourgeois aspirations of Miles and his associates.  While the rollicking “Two Bass Hit” features a fun and playful riff, most of the material here relies on up-tempo rhythms to mask simplistic and thin ideas.  Above all this music presents itself as the pinnacle of something — rather than, as history would later prove it to be, an anachronistic holdover from the be-bop era, sustained only by the suppression of the likes of Ornette Coleman.  Put another way, this music presents a linear view of history as a straight march of progress in a particular direction, and obscures how it really is music that participates in a system of institutional/tribal power hierarchies.  When Miles landed at Columbia Records, he was merely promoted within a fixed universe of possibilities.  To put this criticism in a more substantive context, this is music still clinging to the model of Louis Armstrong and Charlie Parker, in which a black man like Miles was trying to prove himself to be talented, within an established institutional framework (similar to the “Talented Tenth” theory), whereas in the future, after the legal end of the Jim Crow era in America, there would be a great recognition that individual accomplishment within the existing system wasn’t enough — the whole system needed to be changed.  Of course, eventually Miles got bored with this, and his boredom led to much better things that did challenge the whole system.

Miles Davis – ‘Round About Midnight

'Round About Midnight

Miles Davis‘Round About Midnight  Columbia CL 949 (1957)


Miles’ first album for Columbia Records is a winner.  While not quite as inspired as his last recordings for Prestige, which included the excellent Cookin’, Relaxin’ and Workin’ discs that for contractual reasons were released only later, this is a mere step behind them, and benefits from more high fidelity recording technology.  The great advantage of the Prestige sessions is that they sound like those of a band that has nothing to lose and everything to gain from superb, heartfelt performances that follow their own muse.  By contrast, ‘Round About Midnight sound more like the work of a talented band seeking to prove that the performers are worthy of the “big time”, so they show more deference.  Anyway, this remains a very worthy collection of hard bop jazz — and album jacket covers hardly get cooler than this one.