Jazz – Page 17 – Rock Salted

Sun Ra – Cosmic Tones for Mental Therapy

Sun Ra and His Solar Arkestra – Cosmic Tones for Mental Therapy El Saturn LP 408 (1967)

One of the more difficult Sun Ra albums, but a great one too. It was recorded in 1963. Like some of the other recordings from the early 1960s in New York this features vaguely psychedelic reverb effects. These recordings are the most effective of Sun Ra’s experiments of the era. The reed players are stretching (“Voice of Space”) and laying the foundation for what they would do after the October Revolution in Jazz the following year. While the band had experimented with dissonant, spacey sounds for years, they use those techniques for longer, sustained stretches on many of these songs. The polyrhythmic percussion finds new life here by bridging the newer recording effects and soloing with sci-fi exotica stylings the band had used for years. That is to say that this actually marks a break from the merely superficially “exotic” approach of the prior years, giving way to something a lot less bound to conventional swing and bop structures and more able to float about purely on moods and washes of sound. If this doesn’t sink in right away, give it time.

[Historical note: This music was recorded in New York City in the early 1960s, but was inspired by a performance at the Edward Hines, Jr. VA Hospital in Chicago on February 28, 1957, at which a (formerly) catatonic woman who supposedly hadn’t spoken in years exclaimed at the end of the performance, “You call that music?!”]

Pharoah Sanders – Deaf Dumb Blind (Summun Bukmun Umyun)

Pharoah Sanders – Deaf Dumb Blind (Summun Bukmun Umyun) Impulse! AS-9199 (1970)

If you liked Karma, you’ll probably like this too. It melds bold African rhythms with free-form soloing like on Andrew Hill‘s Compulsion and Archie Shepp‘s The Magic of Ju-Ju, but Pharoah Sanders’ sound is altogether more upbeat. The solos aren’t especially great by the standards of this set of performers. But the most interesting aspect of this music is how accessible it remains throughout, making it a lot more palatable for those listeners skeptical of free jazz or anything remotely connected to the avant-garde. That is no small achievement.

Dave Van Ronk With The Red Onion Jazz Band – In the Tradition

Dave Van Ronk With The Red Onion Jazz Band – In the Tradition Folklore FL-14001 (1963)

Dave Van Ronk’s music is tedious. It is so imposing and yet at the same time rather unfocused in its energies. He was a below average singer and only a good (but not great) guitarist. Although bits of this — the parts without the horns — seem to have had a big impact on the sound of early Tom Waits, Van Ronk kind of falls down compared to Waits. My biggest gripe with Van Ronk is that he clearly had too high an opinion of himself. He saw himself as a huge innovator and great talent, at least he thought that whatever he did have should have bestowed upon him great influence. Looking back on his albums, it is hard to find anything that holds up to even the level of fair-to-middling. He had his talents and his interests, but everybody does. He makes his case that his talents and interests are (or should be) considered better, more influential, more important than what other people have, but this comes across as more self-serving than he lets on. This is epitomized by his appearance in the Bob Dylan documentary No Direction Home, in which he displays a kind of “sour grapes” attitude, clearly still after all those years, thinking that he should have been bigger than Dylan, even as he feigns that he got over all that years ago. His professed innovations in singing more gruffly and such were really just adaptations of afro-American music to white middle class settings, and his supposedly innovating guitar arrangements seem like a joke compared to what the American Primitive guitarists (John Fahey) were doing around the same time, and later. But all that aside, Van Ronk has better stuff out there than In the Tradition.

Don Cherry – Symphony for Improvisers

Don Cherry – Symphony for Improvisers Blue Note BST 84247 (1967)

Cherry leads an all-star cast through a “suite” with plenty of space for raging solos. Some bag on this album because Cherry refined and perfected the style later on Eternal Rhythm, etc. But taken on its own this is still fine stuff. The uniformly excellent performances make it worthwhile. Saxophonist Gato Barbieri has hardly sounded better, Karl Berger is stunning on vibes, and bassist Henry Grimes is sublime. Count this among Cherry’s best.

Gary Burton – Alone at Last

Gary Burton – Alone at Last Atlantic 1598 (1972)

Excellent solo outing from one of the biggest innovators of the vibraphone. Burton’s greatest contribution was proving that a jazz musician could take the ostensibly fixed-tone free bar instrument and produce bent notes (by pressing one mallet into a bar to change its natural frequency while impacting it with another mallet). Alone at Last is something of a template for other great virtuoso solo albums like Bobby McFerrin‘s The Voice and Sonny Sharrock‘s Guitar.

Anthony Braxton – Saxophone Improvisations Series F

Anthony Braxton – Saxophone Improvisations Series F America Records 30 AM 011-012 (1972)

Anthony Braxton is a guy where either you appreciate his drive to create unique music with little or no commercial appeal, or you don’t. You either admire his efforts to zig when everyone is expected to zag, or you don’t. Another analogy: the question of coloring within the lines or not. Braxton (hypothetically) colors in the lines sometimes, and sometimes not, but he’s also written two dozen new coloring books in the meantime, some of which have no lines whatsoever to color within or without, but he still says they are coloring books.

This album is similar in many ways to Dona Lee [Donna Lee], which was recorded just a week prior. Though here there are only original compositions, no standards. Also, rather than group material, this album is played entirely solo. So comparisons to For Alto are sure to abound, though already Braxton’s sound had opened up a bit from that earlier recording, adding more lyrical elements to his abrupt, cold attack. This album features compositions from his “Kelvin” series. While those who seek out unique and uncompromising jazz will surely admire this, there is a sinking sensation that Braxton is trying to be self-consciously “different” and that holds it back just slightly. His real breakthroughs as a performer and composer were still in the future, swiftly approaching. This one is perhaps most appealing in how it demonstrates “how he got there.” Choice tracks: “NR-12-C (33 M)” and “JMK-80 CFN-7.”

Anthony Braxton – Dona Lee

Anthony Braxton – Dona Lee America Records 30 AM 6122 (1975)

An album documenting Anthony Braxton really coming into his own, with his best work just around the corner. His own playing is more assured than before. The tendency with Braxton’s early recordings is for the willful complexity of his compositions to be alienating. Incorporating some standards into his recording repertoire evidences how he softened that alienating effect and strengthened his playing across the board by expanding his palette. The band here is good, though not as nimble and imaginative as some of the great bands Braxton would lead in later years. While the rhythm section here is certainly competent, like some early Cecil Taylor and Ornette Coleman albums one gets the feeling the rhythm section isn’t quite ready to go to all the same places as Braxton. Just a week after recording the material here Braxton recorded the solo performances on Saxophone Improvisations Series F and the next month recorded his first Creative Music Orchestra piece RBN—-3° K12 at the Festival of Chatellerault in France. And a few months later Braxton was back in the United States and presented a spring concert in New York City, portions of which were later released as Town Hall 1972, which bears similarities and features some arguably superior performances, although the song selections on that live album put less weight on Braxton’s growing use of standards juxtaposed with new music than Dona Lee.

Eric Dolphy – ‘Out to Lunch!’

Eric Dolphy – ‘Out to Lunch!’ Blue Note BLP 4163 (1964)

For a long time, my favorite album. I know it so well. These days, I rarely ever listen to it. I carry it with me, in my head, always. So, little need for stereos. Except, the vibrations are good. So every once and a while, I take the time to play it, just to feel it.

It is hard to find words to describe this album. One can only claim to shed some light on its context. Sometimes hailed the greatest jazz recording of the 20th Century, it is certainly a key step through any legitimate jazz listening education.

Eric Dolphy was a star amidst the early “free jazz” movement of the sixties, if there was such title to bestow. He played with most of the key players at one point or another (even La Monte Young in junior high!). A California symphony denied him a seat, likely based on his race. His friend Richard Davis describes Dolphy as “an angel” and said if you heard something from Eric, it was true. His music reflected his personality. It was always reaching, but peaceful and wise.

This music arrives independently at chordal improvisation. It’s not that it begins with a structure. Rather, Dolphy rethinks his entire musical universe and then constructs his own version of what it could be. The result just happens — by chance — to sound like it employs traditional values. New concepts emerge. As much as it touches on traditional values the previous standards fail to address the full scope of this album. The textures and melodic/harmonic interplay create something beyond the music, beyond its context, leading the listener into some shining palace where each moment lingers infinitely as it unfolds its wisdom. The entire point is that it’s not quantifiable. Dolphy seems to say that music should break down limitations. The destination would be unreachable by limited, traditional means (like you can’t get through the gates dragging a set of preconceived notions). All too often there is a disbelief that this album reaches the level it does.

Dolphy’s solos used dramatic intervals and a host of quite unique sounds: honking, buzzing, and anything else that suited the music. A remarkable improviser, Dolphy could give anyone a run for their money (like John Coltrane during their 1961 stand at the Village Vanguard). He was an accomplished multi-instrumentalist. ‘Out to Lunch!’ displays his three primary tools: the bass clarinet, alto saxophone, and flute. His style was remarkably vocal. Evocative and intelligent, Dolphy was an immaculate composer, stylist, instrumentalist, and bandleader.

The group is entirely comprised of superstars, though some were just getting started at the time. Bobby Hutcherson on vibes, Freddie Hubbard on trumpet, Tony Williams on drums, and Richard Davis on bass provide limitless raw talent while still cooperating from beginning to end. They keep pace with the breakneck rhythms (like 5/4 or 9/4 time) and Dolphy’s explosive solos.

Freddie Hubbard employs his flashy style in full contrast to the more subdued performances by Hutcherson, Davis, and Williams. Richard Davis pulls everything into new territory with his subtle explorations and refusal to hand in a standard performance. Tony Williams, just 18 years old, is loose and explorative. Bobby Hutcherson at times shows his lyrical side, but his brightest moments come through improvisational responses — bangs, clangs, and dribbles all land perfectly.

The songs are each remarkable in many ways. “Hat and Beard,” a homage to Thelonious Monk, portrays the man’s genius and his quirks. “Something Sweet, Something Tender” is exciting and difficult to categorize. “Gazzelloni” (a nod to the flautist) stretches stylistically, while “Out to Lunch” wanders innocently. “Straight Up and Down” is the most comical.

Before Blue Note released this album, Eric Dolphy was dead. Not appreciated in America, he moved to Europe after recording ‘Out to Lunch!’. He died from his diabetes, a condition he never knew he had. This wasn’t the only great album he created. Dolphy contributed as a sideman to countless classics and released many amazing recordings during his lifetime. The posthumous Last Date captures some of his ever-expanding visions of his final weeks in Europe a few months after recording this album. ‘Out to Lunch!’ has beautiful compositions and dazzling performances. It is a document of just what people are capable of. There may be records with seemingly less structure (“freer”) but none with more passion. Dolphy’s flair for life suspends time briefly. For a few minutes, everything that could be, everything that should be, is.

Andrew Hill – Lift Every Voice

Andrew Hill – Lift Every Voice Blue Note BST 84330 (1970)

Andrew Hill is known for his chameleon-like style on piano (like Jaki Byard). Paradoxically, Lift Every Voice is an unusual album because it doesn’t sound unusual. With a great band in tow, Hill is joined by a vocal choir arranged by Marshall Brown (the mastermind behind Pee-Wee Russell‘s late career comeback). The vocals take this very much into the territory of commercial-sounding late-Sixties music — reminiscent of Oliver Nelson‘s output for Hollywood or even the likes of Leonard Feather Presents the Sound of Feeling and the Sound of Oliver Nelson. It is well played, but not particularly moving by Hill’s high standards. The bluesy “Ghetto Lights” is probably the best offering. A 2001 CD reissue adds a number of unreleased songs from the sessions that prove to be more interesting than the originally released material; the bonus material is interesting because it diverges from dated Sixties harmonies far more than what was included on the original album and features a bit less of the vocal choir.

Julius Hemphill – Roi Boyé & the Gotham Minstrels

Julius Hemphill – Roi Boyé & the Gotham Minstrels Sackville 3014/15 (1977)

A one-of-a-kind sound. Supposedly Hemphill’s own Blue Boyé is similar, but I haven’t heard that to compare. The closest music to this I can think of is that of Anthony Braxton, but this is less cerebral and more down-to-Earth. Roi Boyé & the Gotham Minstrels is billed as an “audiodrama”. That’s a good term for it. The music melds a flamboyant dramatic sense from musical theater and vaudeville with the techniques and improvisational choices of free jazz, tinged just slightly with blues and R&B influences. The only performer is Julius Hemphill himself, overdubbed, on saxophone and flute, with some occasional spoken word vocals. The theatrical aspects of this help hold it together, despite a few moments perhaps where meandering “double album syndrome” threatens.