Ornette Coleman's Tomorrow Is the Question!

From 1959, Coleman’s romp of an album is still in his early avant-garde phase, and features his partner in crime, Don Cherry. The title track swings, is light in tone and heart, and has a walking bassline, not sounding too different from the usual hard bop. But the drummer has more freedom and moves beyond his role as timekeeper, utilizing all the drumset for interesting additions and going along well with the bassline. In a sense, like “Una Muy Bonita,” the title track almost sounds Caribbean, folksy, or like carnival or festival music because of its light-heartedness. “Tears Inside,” likewise, is not “out there,” showing some signs of blues influences in the head. Despite the melancholic title, whatever tears Ornette has inside sound celebratory, with some swing, and another walking bass. Even Cherry does not sound free in this. Coleman, a product of the R&B bands of 1940s Texas, knows how to play the blues, although not as fiery or soul-stirring as “Ramblin” a few years later. One can see nascent avant-garde elements in his solo here, though, such as his penchant for emulation of the human voice, moving beyond blues lines and the honking squeals of 1940s and 1950s R&B. With Don Cherry, their dual horn effect sounds great, a fruitful partnership. The subsequent “Mind and Time” features a dissonant head, and sounds more like something you might hear from The Shape of Jazz to Come. But, like the previous tracks, everything sticks to a swinging rhythm and there is no collective improvisation or anything that characterizes some of his future work. Moreover, Coleman’s solo evokes the blues in his wailing as well as bop, which is perfectly followed up by Cherry.

“Compassion” begins with some interesting sounds, another almost Caribbean-inflected start until something more conventional of jazz. The bassist is really getting down here, too, until Coleman’s solo takes off. He blows waves of melodic lines at a leisurely pace to the midtempo rhythm section while also suggesting the blues at times. Coleman impressively sounds almost childlike and ‘cute’ on his horn, while Cherry’s solo is muted, and likely played on a pocket trumpet, giving him an additional interesting sound. The composition, sounding almost folksy or Caribbean at times, is definitely an interesting, disjointed head, though not quite avant-garde. “Giggin’” is, as the title suggests, something one would play at a gig, rooted in bop but beginning the Coleman solo with some dissonant, squeaking. Manne’s swinging hard here while the bass maintains the foundation of the bop tune, something very in line with the music of 1950s jazz. Cherry’s trumpet solo likewise is bop-oriented, but Manne adds in appropriately timed drumming until the head is repeated and ends. As for “Rejoicing,” as the title suggests, is indeed celebratory, with a simple bass figure and upbeat, joyous head. The bassline, simple and sweet, is perfect with Coleman’s rousing solo that has some call and response with Don Cherry, the other side of Coleman’s musical heartbeat. While Cherry solos, the bassist and drummer keep things moving quickly, to which his relaxed pace seems out of sync, but matches the celebratory tone of “Rejoicing.”

“Lorraine” is an ominous number, and a tribute to Lorraine Geller, a pianist. It has the disjointed theme and suggestive dark tones of “Lonely Woman,” aided by Manne’s cryptic drumming and lazy swing alternating with fast-paced, frenetic drumming. After the lengthy introduction and head, Coleman’s solo reaches depths heard on The Shape of Jazz to Come or This Is Our Music. As a tribute to a fallen fellow musician, Coleman appears to be mourning and crying for the late Geller. At times the composition sounds like “Peace” as well as “Lonely Woman,” which is a good thing. Manne also gets some solo time, playing a meticulously melodic solo until the lugubrious and angular head repeats. The penultimate track, “Turnaround,” is a conventional 12-bar blues number with heavy drumming and a bass solo to kick things off that, honestly, is unnecessary. Things pick up when Cherry and Coleman’s horns play call and response to the bassist, whose solo, thankfully, ends. Cherry’s solo is accompanied well by Manne’s well-timed heavy beats, and he seems to improvise a little himself with quick runs while maintaining the swing, even adding in Latinesque rhythms at times. Coleman’s solo, the last, soars, playing upper register tones while also retaining a relaxed approach and responding to his lines with nice blowing. Clearly, Coleman never lost his touch for the blues or his inclination for soulful, voice-like sound. The album then closes with “Endless,” a good title for the final track. It’s entitled such because the head seems to never end, skipping into solos initiated by Coleman’s exploratory honks, wails, and inspired drumming at a quick tempo. Coleman maintains his lyricism, surprisingly, and at times, sounds “cute” or horrifying, while Cherry’s solo, relaxed and smooth, maintains a seeming indifference for the pummeling of the drums from Manne. The bassist’s solo is playful, light-hearted, and punctuated at times with the addition of horn fare from Cherry and Coleman, culminating in a brief drum solo, until the theme is repeated again. Interesting for providing a look at Coleman’s music before the iconic Shape of Jazz, this is higly recommendable for fans of Coleman’s early work and to trace the development of his vastly more avant-garde material in the 1960s.