James Carter Organ Trio – At the Crossroads

At the Crossroads

James Carter Organ TrioAt the Crossroads EmArcy B0016081-02 (2011)


At the Crossroads has some of the benefits and all the drawbacks of any typical James Carter album. He plays to the audience, recontextualizing bits of the past with a lot of charisma.  Maybe he doesn’t reach to do this as much as he has elsewhere, but he still does it.  But he also plays in front of a band that seems a little too conservative for his solos.  When I’m feeling unkind, I would even say he pulls a Sidney Bechet and purposefully has the band sandbag by playing dull tropes to make him sound more impressive by comparison.  Anyway, there is a bit too much lazy blues and lounge-y stuff here, and the occasional vocals seem to lack any sort of edge, but occasionally it hits, like on “The Hard Blues” and “Aged Pain.”  If all this sounds like a pretty tepid endorsement, then it suits this lukewarm effort.

Sun Ra – Pathways to Unknown Worlds

Pathways to Unknown Worlds

Sun Ra and His Astro Infinity ArkestraPathways to Unknown Worlds Impulse! ASD-9298 (1975)


Just three tracks on this album, but the opener “Pathways to Unknown Worlds” and the closer “Cosmo-Media” are great ones.  My friend Patrick says there isn’t another album in the Sun Ra catalog quite like this.  It has some of the sparse, fluttering free soloing popular with European free jazz (AKA free improv) players, which Sun Ra had already featured on The Heliocentric Worlds of Sun Ra, Volume 2, and even the two Nuits de la Fondation Maeght albums.  But especially from about three-quarters into the title track, and throughout “Cosmo-Media,” there are also more electronics, which makes this more like some of the primarily solo keyboard excursions on The Solar-Myth Approach, Vol. 1, even Atlantis and bits of Space Is the Place.  Ra was incorporating early synthesizer sounds into a small combo setting, which he would do a lot more of later in years to come (Disco 3000, Media Dreams, Oblique Parallax).  The freely improvised soloing found here would not be as relentless in the later years, instead used a bit more sparingly as a change of pace.  Still, nothing in the Sun Ra catalog has such abstract soloing while still managing to be a part of music that is mellow and calm — to a point.  If that isn’t clear, what I mean to say is that this mostly isn’t played like a continuous wall of noise.  There is a lot of space between the notes and some separation between individual performances, but also some semblance of a futuristic sonic fabric at the same time.  Bassist Ronnie Boykins plays boldly and he’s a big feature throughout.  Rarely is an acoustic bassist so prominent on a Ra album.  This one seems like it looks back and ahead at the same time, to things few people paid attention to at any point before, during, or since!  The quality of the solos and the openness of the soling will please Ra fans, though newcomers (at least those not keyed into free jazz) may wish to start elsewhere.  A reissue of the original Pathways to Unknown Worlds adds a bonus track from the original session that was on defective magnetic tape, restored with the aid of modern technology, plus an entire rejected, previously unreleased album tentatively entitled Friendly Love that is a bit less challenging in the solos and coupled with a more persistent base of percussion (yet is still quite nice).

Brother Ahh – Sound Awareness

Sound Awareness

Brother Ahh (Robert Northern)Sound Awareness Strata-East SES19731 (1972)


Robert Northern (A/K/A Brother Ah) was a noted French horn player and flautist who worked with Sun Ra, The Jazz Composer’s Orchestra, The Thelonious Monk Orchestra, and others.  Sound Awareness, his debut as a leader, features two side-long suites.  The first side employs a psychedelic echo/phasing effect like some of Sun Ra’s early 1960s recordings (Secrets of the Sun) blended with Third Stream compositional detail and refinement.  An Afro-conscious worldview is also at work, something with quite a bit of momentum in 1972, relatively speaking.  That is particularly apparent on the second side with a sort of rapped/spoken word recitation set against a percussive backing.

Marion Brown – Geechee Recollections

Geechee Recollections

Marion BrownGeechee Recollections Impulse! AS-9252 (1973)


Excellent album from Marion Brown, who never quite achieved the renown he probably deserved.  Geechee Recollections is sort of a mixture of free jazz and a touch of acoustic jazz fusion.  It’s like a more low-key version of stuff coming out of St. Louis around the same time period (Julius Hemphill et al.).  There is something pretty unique and likable about this mellow vision of avant jazz.  Though Sweet Earth Flying might be a little better-known, this one is my favorite Brown so far.

Anthony Braxton – Six Monk’s Compositions (1987)

Six Monk's Compositions (1987)

Anthony BraxtonSix Monk’s Compositions (1987) Black Saint 120 116-1 (1988)


Anthony Braxton regularly played standards — some of those efforts from the 1980s being quite abysmal — but a whole album dedicated to one jazz composer was unique (even if Braxton returned to that concept later).  Six Monk’s Compositions (1987) is something of a doppelganger of Steve Lacy‘s Reflections: Steve Lacy Plays Thelonious Monk from almost three decades previous.  Consider this: four of the six tracks here appeared on Lacy’s album, and both Mal Waldron (p) and Buell Neidlinger (b) played on both albums.  Braxton is at his most approachable.  He strikes a pleasant balance between faithfully playing these great songs and twisting things about just a bit in his solos.  It helps that these are Monk‘s songs, where the winding melodies and jittery rhythms seem like a perfect fit for Braxton’s biting, intellectually playful style.  This is a rather good Braxton release, and really must be one of his best “straight jazz” outings.  “Brilliant Corners,” “Reflections” and “Played Twice” are standouts.

Anthony Braxton Quartet – Quartet (Coventry) 1985

Quartet (Coventry) 1985

Anthony Braxton QuartetQuartet (Coventry) 1985 Leo CD LR 204/205 (1993)


Recorded on the same tour as Quartet (London) 1985 and Quartet (Birmingham) 1985, also documented in Graham Lock‘s book Forces in Motion: Anthony Braxton and the Meta-Reality of Creative Music (A/K/A Forces in Motion: The Music and Thoughts of Anthony Braxton).  This was the final show.  Supposedly the group made an extra effort to perform well in that last tour performance for the benefit of the recording.  Braxton had by this point clearly broken away from the sorts of things he was doing with his first great quartets with Altschul, Holland and Wheeler or Lewis in the previous decade.  His compositions and methodologies had undergone great changes too.  Each musician has a “territory” specified beforehand by Braxton, which serves to facilitate interaction and provide a starting point, but ultimately there is no limit on what each performer can do in his or her territory.  Like composer Ruth Crawford Seeger, he was also using material that could be played simultaneously — he called it coordinate music.  In hindsight, these methods laid the foundations for the more elaborate renderings of Braxton’s Ghost Trance Music of the next decade.  This double-CD set also includes recorded interviews between Braxton and Lock used as the basis for parts of Lock’s book.  The cover photo is of the quartet at Stonehenge, with Braxton wearing one of Evan Parker‘s old coats because he absentmindedly forgot to bring one of his own for the tour.

Sun Ra – Lanquidity

Lanquidity

Sun RaLanquidity Philly Jazz PJ666 (1978)


Disco has never found such fine improvisational treatment as on Lanquidity. Sun Ra was one of the most interesting musical figures of the last century. He claimed to be from Saturn, and it is practically impossible to prove otherwise. The myth he developed enhanced the music by giving the whole experience a charm all its own. Always one to challenge conventional wisdom, Sun Ra expanded what you could do with “serious” music.

Why a disco-jazz album? Generally, people don’t expect a jazz pioneer to take up doo-wop, R&B, or disco, not to mention both free jazz and big-band jazz. But Sun Ra did, and there is no better way to obliterate worthless preconceptions. In the liner notes to a CD reissue executive producer Tom Buchler quotes Sun Ra saying, “’People are sleeping, and I’m here to wake them up from their slumber.’” While bold statements of space-age philosophy are a natural part of Sun Ra’s myth, there is a literal meaning as well. Occasionally known as “Le Sony’r Ra” or Herman “Sonny” Blount, he was a master of using sound to alter moods — like waking someone in the audience from a drunken stupor, a true story.

Lanquidity has more passion and feeling than seems possible. Sun Ra has absorbed the language of Donna Summer into his improvisational vocabulary. His Arkestra — hailing from Philadelphia somewhat late in Sun Ra’s career — is particularly strong with John Gilmore, Marshall Allen, June Tyson, but also Eddie Gale, and people identified as Disco Kid and Artaukatune. The group’s performance is inspired. The singular vision of the album seldom, if ever, falters. When dealing with talented musicians, restraining them to simple material is challenging, just as working intuitive players of limited means into an ensemble is a challenge. Sun Ra pulls off a unified sound without restricting the creative energy of the collective.

Though sometimes strained, Lanquidity is as effective as nearly anything in Sun Ra’s extensive catalog. At the same time, the songs are very comforting. Song like “There Are Other Worlds (They Have Not Told You of)” and “Twin Stars of Thence” live up to their cosmic names. The music follows a more conventional structure than albums like Atlantis and The Magic City. This never limits the album. The title track explores every creative possibility without over-complicating the matter. “Where Pathways Meet” finds Sun Ra providing varied responses to the main theme and solos, cleverly remaining in the background for most of the song.

This album’s appeal ranges from avant-garde jazz fans to Studio 54 revivalists. While traditional disco fans might find Lanquidity a bit strange at first, it might grow on them. Keep in mind that many original Sun Ra albums had hand-painted covers. The original release of Lanquidity first appeared with only a photocopy attached to the front. Finding these albums was difficult, except for those who frequented Arkestra concerts. Hopefully every Sun Ra release can eventually find a re-release.

Sun Ra – My Brother the Wind Vol. II

My Brother the Wind Vol. 2

Sun RaMy Brother the Wind Vol. II El Saturn LP 523 (1971)


My Brother the Wind Vol II is a tale of two sides–Sun Ra had a penchant for programming El Saturn LPs to be rather different from side to side.  One is filled with solo recordings of Sun Ra taking his then-new mini-moog synthesizer through its paces.  The other side features a full band entering the realm of soul jazz.  Vocalist June Tyson is the star of the group material.  She must have been born with the same Saturn-ian mindset as Ra, because she seems to intuit all of Ra’s music in a way that hardly could be learned.  The group performances feel a bit as if they are making an effort to connect with the organ-driven groove jazz of the type Jimmy Smith played (maybe a closer comparison though would be Larry Young‘s Unity).  That was some of the most popular commercial jazz of the last decade.  The thing is, it was by this time the music of the previous decade.  Sun Ra seemed to be a bit behind the curve when he offered it on an album released in the early 1970s.  Nonetheless, the wilder sax soloing here (“Otherness Blue”) is as unexpected as Sonny Sharrock‘s guitar was in Herbie Mann‘s band (Sharrock has told a funny story about an unfortunate gig in Oshkosh, Wisconsin when some old ladies booked Mann, with Sharrock in tow, entirely by mistake out of confusion between him and Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass and struggled to be polite after hearing Sharrock’s psychedelic performance on electric guitar).  The moog tracks on the flip side were probably pretty out there at the time.  Given what others, and Sun Ra himself (The Solar-Myth Approach Volume 1, The Great Lost Sun Ra Albums: Cymbals / Crystal Spears, Concert for the Comet Kohoutek, etc.), did in the coming years, the sense of experimentation feels quite a bit tamer in retrospect.  This music can feel a little dated in ways later electrified efforts by the Arkestra wouldn’t.  Although this material is decent and pretty accessible for the most part, and it does map out certain elements that would become defining characteristics of Ra’s Seventies period, feel free to skip right past this and come back to it once you have a fair amount of the Sun Ra catalog under your belt.

Sun Ra – We Travel the Space Ways

We Travel the Space Ways

Sun Ra and His Myth Science ArkestraWe Travel the Space Ways El Saturn HK 5445 (1967)


Sort of a vault-clearing assemblage of material recorded in Chicago between 1956 and 1961.  It finds Ra exploring a swinging, bluesy kind of afro-futurist/sci-fi exotica, with a few tracks in a straighter big band mode, though many other Chicago-period recordings are fuller realizations of those styles.  Here the musicians sound just slightly tentative at times and the arrangements are shy of Sun Ra’s very best work.  Still, “Tapestry from an Asteroid” is quite lovely (better than the more polished version on The Futuristic Sounds of Sun Ra), and “Space Loneliness” and “New Horizons” are the highlights.

Ornette Coleman – The Shape of Jazz to Come

The Shape of Jazz to Come

Ornette ColemanThe Shape of Jazz to Come Atlantic SD 1317 (1959)


Ornette Coleman’s second album as a leader has the bold title “The Shape of Jazz to Come” (selected by the producer Nesuhi Ertegun) and few albums earn such bold statements as this one does.  His music has always pushed anarchic tendencies.  In 1959, he was still accustomed to the format of bop and hard bop, and those habits of thought definitely inform this music.  The songs open with a head played by the entire group, and the performers trade solos before returning to the head.  Now, the catch is that both the head and those solos don’t sound at all like any others around in 1959, excepting perhaps a few forward-thinking performers like Cecil Taylor and Sun Ra.

The opening “Lonely Woman” is perhaps the single best-known Coleman composition.  The sour, dissonant melody played by Coleman on his plastic alto sax (he was unable to afford a metal one in his early career) and Don Cherry on cornet stumbles along, falling forward.  Ornette said he composed the song after coming across a painting of a wealthy woman who looked sad to him.  As was Ornette’s key approach to music, the song features unusual improvisation with the players free to melodically improvise without fixed harmonic relationships to each other or a tonal center.  The result is that music theory and the limiting rules inherent in that kind of knowledge are subordinated (if not completely discarded) to the ideas (Ornette referred to “emotion”) that the performers hold form in their performances.  The performers may have been habituated to the format of bop jazz, but they were clearly heading in a completely different direction.

When Ornette plays a slurred trill on “Eventually,” he almost sings into his horn in a way that drives home the new set of values embodied in the music.  For if anything, Ornette’s music represented the expression of different political choices that couldn’t be expressed in the old forms.  So he crafted new ones.  When you hear this, note how fun and happy much of the music is at its core.  In a context in which feeling good expressing yourself without guilt is deemed unacceptable, then going ahead is radical.  But with Ornette, he does this amazing thing.  He fights for this arena to express things in music without positioning himself as some kind of messiah-like figure with unique talents.  The way he plays makes you think you could maybe do it too.  The Italian filmmaker and poet Pier Paolo Pasolini said in an interview, “My nostalgia is for those poor and real people who struggled to defeat the landlord without becoming that landlord.”  This is precisely what Ornette’s music represents, and why it seems right to have a certain fondness for The Shape of Jazz to Come decades later.  You can gauge anyone’s politics by how they react to this album — those who want to retain modes of domination in society won’t take a liking to it.  And people who claim Ornette had limited abilities should be asked: by whose standards?

It is a commentary on the lack of meritocracy in the world, but Ornette owed much of his “break” into the professional music world to John Lewis of The Modern Jazz Quartet, who helped Ornette find gigs, a record label and gain some kind of credibility from an endorsement by an acknowledged star.  Of note, though, is that it was a respected musician like Lewis, who had a masters degree in music and taught music at prestigious conservatories associated with European classical music, had enough credentials to allow him to support Ornette’s music without being criticized as not knowing what he was talking about.  Other self-taught musicians who lacked such institutional credentials would risk being labeled as know-nothings for supporting Ornette’s music.  But, all that aside, Ornette did well with the opportunities available to him.

With his time in the spotlight on Atlantic Records, Ornette recorded music as radical as anything heard before in jazz.  Musicians who worked their entire lives to perfect their skills playing chord changes were probably chagrined to see Ornette throw all that out and place an emphasis on other elements, improvising with composition as much as interpretation in his solos.  The more open-minded found in Ornette a visionary.  No doubt, Ornette had a much more individualistic conception of musical performance than most listeners (and society writ large) were ready to accept in the late 1950s, which is to say he thought everyone should have much more latitude to express themselves in their own ways without deference to established modes of expression (which invariably are the products of institutions that reproduce social hierarchies).  So perhaps under the old critical standards this music is played “poorly”, but the point is that the old standards are self-serving and this music steps outside them.

Ornette plays in a harsh way, with a sound always about a quarter cent sharp.  This was partly due to playing a plastic Grafton saxophone.  But even after he bought a new metal one, his sound retained its biting qualities.  It was simply his sound.  Don Cherry played cornet in a similar way.  He had a knack for keeping to Ornette’s melodic lines with a characteristic phase-shift, always a split second off of Ornette’s timing.  Bassist Charlie Haden plays with a warm, R&B tinge, occasionally playing double stops (“Focus on Sanity,” “Chronology”) in a fluid, buoying way that contrasts with the dissonant horns.  Drummer Billy Higgins is basically a very forward-thinking bebop drummer, who grew into the free jazz movement.  His playing is rather rooted in bop structure here, which is a major reason why The Shape of Jazz to Come is an easier listen than some of Coleman’s later works with more free-wheeling percussion and rapidly shifting polyrhythms.

“Peace” is the longest track here, and the group plays with a lot of space, at a slower tempo.  The song says as much in the notes left out as in the ones played.  Is peace about their being less in the world?  Less what?  Take a listen and wonder.

The Shape of Jazz to Come is certainly one of Ornette’s most likable albums.  He made more challenging ones, in hindsight at least.  The vestiges of bop structures make this a bit less demanding, without being a cake walk.  Any jazz education should include this album as essential listening.  Yet this is also a work well worth revisiting.  If the flaws of this album are the ways it can’t get past bebop structures entirely and the overabundance of optimism about unleashing music this radical, those are as endearing as flaws come.