Ornette Coleman – The Music of Ornette Coleman

The Music of Ornette Coleman

Ornette ColemanThe Music of Ornette Coleman RCA Victor LM-2982 (1967)


Ornette frequently stated that he considered himself a composer who performed.  Among his greatest achievements in recording compositions for a Euro-classical ensemble is certainly The Music of Ornette Coleman (AKA Forms and Sounds). This live recording is much superior to the 1972 release of Skies of America, perhaps the best-known of Coleman’s “classical” compositions and recordings.  It builds on “Sadness” and “Dedication to Poets and Writers” from his self-produced Town Hall, 1962 concert (and accompanying album).

The opening “Forms & Sounds” is an astounding piece — comparable in some regards to stuff like Stockhausen‘s “Zeitmaße” (1956) or “Kontra-Punkte” (1953).  It is performed entirely on wind instruments.  A density is achieved through having woodwinds players (The Philadelphia Woodwind Quintet) perform almost independently, which is to say that the notes played by each of the performers seem built from independent lines and notations rather than through overarching themes or motives.  Passages with the woodwind players are interspersed with (and separated by) Coleman playing trumpet solo.  Much of what he does would be classified as “extended technique” in the Euro-classical realm.  His performances are stunning — as much or more captivating than what the whole woodwind quintet achieves (and they perform excellently, by the way).  What really distinguishes this from European avant-garde music (Stockhausen, etc.) is the way the music shifts back and forth between the chamber ensemble and Ornette playing solo, with Ornette’s own playing being organized differently than the ensemble parts, with the occasional R&B/blues riff and offhand jazz phrasing.  There are differences between the two types of playing, but they are complementary.  This juxtaposition of differences without the two ever really meeting, and without one dissolving into the other, is the innovative contribution Ornette makes.  Of course, the parts that resemble prior avant-garde music are simply excellently conceived and executed.

The piece “Forms and Sounds” here was recorded live.  An earlier live version recorded in England appeared on An Evening With Ornette Coleman.  Ornette used the money he received to record a soundtrack to the film Chappaqua (a soundtrack ultimately not used in the film, but released on an album) to finance a European tour.  However, protectionist British Ministry of Labour quotas required that as a “jazz musician” certain British musicians must be engaged to play in the United States in order for Ornette’s band to be permitted to play in England.  That reciprocity didn’t happen.  These policies were notoriously discriminatory against pop and rock and roll music.  However, the country quota regulations had a loophole for “concert artists”, a category that included Euro-classical musicians and Asian improvising musicians.  So Ornette wrote “Forms and Sounds” in mid-August 1965, two weeks before the scheduled concert, and because of those efforts was successfully reclassified as a “concert artist” to enable the concert to proceed.  In spite of all this, the British union still retaliated by demanding different performers for the opening act and then later blacklisted the people who helped Ornette organize the concert.  The British musicians union pulled the same stunt when he returned years later, forcing him to compose “Emotion Modulation” (a backstage rehearsal of the “Aos” section of that piece appears on Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band).  In spite of its unusual origins, “Forms and Sounds” is still a notable composition, and the version here is superior to the earlier recording, which lacked the trumpet interludes performed by Ornette himself.

“Saints and Soldiers” is Ornette’s reflection on how the remains of both revered saints and lowly soldiers end up in jars after their deaths.  Strings (The Chamber Symphony of Philadelphia Quartet) are used instead of wind instruments — Ornette does not perform on the track.  It is yet another instance of Ornette’s politics influencing the way he writes music, with a dogged interest in radical egalitarianism showing through.  From a technical perspective, it is less innovative than “Forms & Sounds.”  In a way, this piece might be one of the first to highlight a question that would take on increasing relevance in Coleman’s music, especially in the 1970s and 80s with his fusion band Prime Time.  That question might be framed as one of federalismFredric Jameson wrote about Thomas More‘s book Utopia (1516):

“More’s solution — to make all the subdivisions of his utopia equal in all respects — is a mechanical one, which casts some doubt on the equally mechanical uniformity of its citizens.  Federalism is the central political problem of any utopia…”  Fredric Jameson, An American Utopia: Dual Power and the Universal Army (2016), p. 79.

This echoes a criticism that can be leveled at Ornette and his “Harmolodics” system of musical performance.  He organizes the music very mechanically sometimes.  Here on “Saints and Soldiers,” he locks some of the woodwind players into rather rigid roles to hold them all equal.  The piece, on the whole, is still moody and effective.

“Space Flight” is the closer, and the shortest piece on the album.  It is played very staccato, again all on strings.  It has a punchiness or fire not found on “Saints and Soldiers.”  While hinting at afro-futurism, this might be seen more generally as part of Ornette’s ongoing fascination with space exploration — he later composed for NASA — and technocracy — in a later interview he described techno futurist R. Buckminster Fuller as his number one hero.  The song makes a fitting closer to the album, looking forward to the “space age” with hope and determination.

Today Ornette’s recorded work from the later 1960s is less known than what came before or after, partly due to fewer reissues, but The Music of Ornette Coleman is a crucial recording in his catalog.  It presents a unique and important facet of his career.  Even if less widely available than many other Coleman recordings, this one is worth seeking out.

Sun Ra – When Sun Comes Out

When Sun Comes Out

Sun Ra and His Myth Science ArkestraWhen Sun Comes Out El Saturn LP 2066 (1963)


Though a bit patchy in places, Calling Planet Earth is an unequaled showcase for the Arkestra’s mighty sax section of John Gilmore, Pat Patrick, Marshall Allen and Danny Davis.  Sun Ra had a harder time recruiting brass players after relocating to New York City.  But the move actually strengthened the sax lineup, as Patrick came back into the fold—he tears up his solo on “Calling Planet Earth.”  [side note: Pat Patrick had relocated to New York ahead of Ra and had left his family behind in Chicago, including his son and future Massachusetts governor Deval]

Esperanza Spalding – Esperanza

Esperanza

Esperanza SpaldingEsperanza Heads Up International HUCD 3140 (2008)


I suppose I’m spoiled in having heard strong female artists like PJ Harvey, tUnE-yArDs.  Esperanza Spalding is not one of those women.  On Esperanza she accedes to a rather bland, established formula for vocal jazz, with hushed, breathy vocalizations, and warm, soft and non-confrontational backing, with a lot of rather vague third world-isms laced through.  It comes across as something between Sade and Diana Krall, with the kind of emphasis on lightweight pop rather than jazz that Norah Jones established as the dominant commercial form.  The lyrics here are banal, though there seems to be little attempt to make them the focus.  The album has finely crafted production values, but Spalding makes no attempt to establish her own voice.  She plays bass competently but not remarkably.  This album just drifts by without making its mark.

Esperanza Spalding – Chamber Music Society

Chamber Music Society

Esperanza SpaldingChamber Music Society Heads Up International HUI-31810-02 (2010)


I bagged on Esperanza’s last album (Esperanza) because she followed a formula too closely.  Well, on this time out she certainly breaks from formula.  Now she dabbles in a mixture of third-stream and pop.  Problem is, she doesn’t pull it off.  The songs are too complex for their own good.  Cluttered.  It seems like she’s aiming for something a little more ambitious than she’s able to pull off as a writer and arranger, even if well within her means as a performer.  Oh well.

The Mothers of Invention – Weasels Ripped My Flesh

Weasels Ripped My Flesh

The Mothers of InventionWeasels Ripped My Flesh Bizarre MS 2028 (1970)


An album decidedly influenced by free jazz.  Woodwinds player Ian Underwood had studied at the Lenox School of Jazz back in 1959 when Ornette Coleman inspired many to take up the banner of “free” jazz, and maybe that experience helped steer the music on this album.  Or so it seems from the opener “Didja Get Any Onya.”  From there, much of this seems like aimless jams that have good ideas drawn out too long (many of the recordings were made live).  The abstractions are great in theory but are less impressive in practice.  And “The Eric Dolphy Memorial Barbeque” might be the single least interesting thing with Dolphy‘s name attached to it.  But there is also a more straightforward rock song, “My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama,” which has long been a favorite Mothers song of mine.  Anyway, music aside, this one features a great Neon Park album cover!

Patty Waters – College Tour

College Tour

Patty WatersCollege Tour ESP-Disk ESP 1055 (1966)


Patty Waters was one of the first truly experimental singers.  She introduced abstract, avant garde, wordless singing — based on everything from shrieks, whispers, and hums to grunts and moans — into the fabric of jazz music.  But she also integrated more conventional jazz and blues styles.  This album was recorded on a tour organized by attorney Bernard Stollman‘s ESP-Disk’ label, with a grant from the New York State Council on the Arts, for a group of ESP-Disk’ artists to tour New York colleges with music departments in April of 1966.  Others on the tour were The Sun Ra Arkestra, Ran Blake, Burton Greene and Giuseppi Logan (the last three all appear on these recordings).  Much like Sun Ra, Waters moves between wildly disparate styles, and her innovations lie as much in a similar refusal to privilege one style over another as in anything she achieved strictly on the more experimental end of the musical spectrum — where she pioneered techniques later adopted or deployed by the likes of Linda Sharrock, Yoko OnoJeanne Lee, Diamanda Galás, and reminiscent of the “extended techniques” of Joan La Barbara too.  All that is to say that parts of the album (“Wild Is the Wind,” “It Never Entered My Mind”) track a typical jazz singer’s repertoire in the 1960s (compare Nina Simone), while the weirder parts of this music are akin to much else on the ESP-Disk’ label at the time, when the label was an early bastion of “free jazz”.  Waters deserves credit for her facility across that entire spectrum.  Rather than juxtaposing those elements as incompatible opposites, she deploys them as part of a universal continuum broad enough to contain multitudes of different elements.  As one reviewer put it, this is music for those drawn to “dreams that blur the line between pure delight and hellish nightmare.”  Extending that insight, perhaps this is music like Andreĭ Platonov‘s writings, which chose to subjectivize worldly experience by building utopia out of what others typically considered a dystopia.  That is to say that this sort of outlook embraces parts of the human condition that many marginalize, discredit or criticize.  It finds room for feelings of uncertainty, regret, confusion, pain — in an indifferent, meaningless universe, these can be bestowed with as much value as anything else.  This fit into the context of the New Left movement of the 1960s, and the yippie/hippie lifestyle.  This also seems to anticipate the May 1968 slogan: «Il est interdit d’interdire» (“It is forbidden to forbid”).

Even for those who struggle to enjoy this music or subjectively consider it “good” should at least recognize that it pushed boundaries and took bold steps into new territory.

Bill Dixon – November 1981

November 1981

Bill DixonNovember 1981 Soul Note SN 1037/38 (1982)


The thoroughly factually-titled November 1981 features a combination of live and studio recordings made in Italy that month.  The double-LP release featured the studio tracks on the first disc and the live tracks on the second, while the CD release put the live recordings first (minus some stage announcements) and the studio recordings last.  The quartet of Dixon (t), Alan Silva (b), Mario Pavone (b), and Laurence Cook (d) has a good feel for each others’ talents.  The two-bass lineup is reminiscent of the quartet Ornette Coleman led in the late 1960s — a bootleg of a Rome concert of that quartet came out in 1977.  The bassists are able to alternate between pizzicato (plucked) and acro (bowed) playing, so that they avoid blending together too much.  And yet the two bass lineup keeps the brightness of Dixon’s trumpet in the foreground.   As usual, Dixon plays whinnies and squeaks, plus the occasional melodic figure, using space to structure his performances as much around what he doesn’t play as what he does.  Cook plays decisively yet unobtrusively.  Silva and Pavone add a lot in terms of distinctive riffs and textural coloring.  Between the bassists and the drummer, at least one player always seems to suggest (if not outright deliver) some type of syncopation, which gives the music a sense of engagement, despite the highly abstract solos.  On the whole, this music is characterized by each player making independent contributions that work together.  Likely as not, at any given time there are multiple solos occurring simultaneously, without any player relegated to “accompaniment” as such.  The results are dense, but given the way the doubling up of bassists makes this sound almost like a trio, it is not overpowering.  The recording fidelity is very good, minimalistic with a deep low end and an almost ominous feeling.  Dixon largely eschewed marketing and commercialism, and as a result his name and recordings are less known than they might be, though he remains one of the singular talents of the free jazz era.  During the entirety of the 1970s, for instance, he released only one album under his own name (though archival recordings from that decade were later released).  His recordings on the Italian Soul Note label, like this one, are the most widely available.  Dixon had worked toward the sound employed here for some time, and these performances might be considered the culmination of that effort.  In the coming years he would make music that was more abstract, without the grounding and contrasts of the syncopation from the rhythm section — not necessarily better or worse, just different.  November 1981 is definitely a highlight in Dixon’s discography, and one of the more interesting and unique offerings in 1980s jazz.

Miles Davis – Dark Magus

Dark Magus

Miles DavisDark Magus CBS/Sony 40AP741-2 (1977)


Dark Magus is another great entry into the series of live recordings from Miles’ 1970-75 period.  This particular one comes from a Carnegie Hall concert on March 29, 1974.  It’s an excellent performance, churning out an energized voodoo funk jazz that could only come from Miles.  The band had enough control and skill at this point to produce a sound live that couldn’t really be improved on in the studio, no matter how many effects and cut-ups were employed.  There are slightly better recordings from the same period available, but this one is still an excellent album with a lot to offer.  I actually consider it one of my favorites from the period. I wish there were dozens more like it!  This is some OUT shit.

Mal Waldron & Steve Lacy – Live at Dreher, Paris 1981

Live at Dreher, Paris 1981

Mal Waldron & Steve LacyLive at Dreher, Paris 1981 HatHut hatOLOGY 4-596 (2003)


This collection of two archival live recordings — Live at Dreher Paris 1981: Round Midnight, Vol. 1 and Live at Dreher Paris 1981: The Peak, Vol. 2 (both originally released in 1996) — features two long-time collaborators engaged in a great, public musical conversation.  The album is just Lacy and Waldron, playing some originals but mostly Thelonious Monk tunes.  The mood is a supportive one.  Each performer gets some time out front, or by himself, with plenty of collaborative passages as well.  Waldron plays with a blues tonality but also with blocks of repetitive riffs that lend a subtly hypnotic and thoroughly modern edge (the liner notes call this a hypnotic tension & release quality), which is confirmed by playing with sustain just enough to soften the rhythmic attack on his piano but never so much as to devolve into wispy sentimentality.  Lacy plays lyrically and brightly when he wants to, then at times with tangly solos that sometimes reach for “extended technique” honks and screeches, always maintaining a humility that belies the virtuoso technique.  While Waldron tends to synthesize disparate stylistic approaches, Lacy tends to alternate between them.  Both players are clearly “inside” the Monk songs, enough that these versions sound nothing like they way Monk recorded them yet also evidence tremendous admiration — the kind that posits true admiration as adding something to the songs and growing them into unique performances rather than timidly deferential museum piece recreations.  It is also music that finds few limits, pushing beyond the confines of formal structure while also making full and deft use of harmonic and rhythmic structure to develop themes that are long and deep.  If these recordings leave any particular impression, it is of two familiar collaborators who anticipated playing mostly Monk songs, and doing so in a mutually advantageous way, but with few if any preconceived ideas about how they would musically implement their performances.  So the listener gets to experience the performers offering up points and counterpoints, building up a rapport, all with full awareness of the audience for their performances.  It is kind of a more intellectual and cerebral version of the same kind of feeling that drives the “feel good” vibes of everything from rock “jam band” music to reggae…you name it.