Rest in peace, Eddie Gale. This year has witnessed several of our musicians pass away, and Gale was surely an important voice in free and avant-garde jazz. On albums like Ghetto Music he somehow managed to fuse folk and choral musical elements with jazz and sound surprisingly modern and consistent. Without the hokey nature of some of Sun Ra's music, Gale demonstrated a gift for incorporating folk and other styles into jazz.
Showing posts with label Blue Note. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Note. Show all posts
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Home Is Africa
Although so much of Africa-inspired 1960s US jazz was not really based on African musics (instead, jazz artists often used Latin or vaguely Latin rhythms, which are certainly indebted to Africa), one must love the sentiment, solidarity, and pride US-based jazz artists felt for the African continent in those revolutionary years. Our home is, indeed, Africa.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Freddie Hubbard's Crisis featuring McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones
Though "Crisis" recorded previously with Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers is a hard bop classic, this version featuring McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones is more satisfying. Hubbard had recently collaborated with Jones and Tyner via John Coltrane (check out the Africa/Brass sessions), so he was used to working with them. As I have said in the past, the strength of the Coltrane Quartet rested in the foundation set by Tyner and Jones, who provided complex rhythmic and harmonic backing while also taking adventurous solos. Hubbard is really trying to outdo his previous recording with Blakey, but Jones and Tyner steal the show here (and, well, Wayne Shorter). Jones applies his characteristic quasi-Latin swing, Tyner comps, and Shorter blows away contemplatively in a state of restrained crisis (hey, just like the title of the song!). Now, if we could only get rid of McKinney's euphonium, then this great song could be even greater. Hard bop like this with the some of the best musicians of 1960s jazz is a truly rare delight.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Bobbi Humphrey's Harlem River Drive
Bobbi Humphrey's "Harlem River Drive" is one of my favorite Blue Note jams of 1970s jazz-funk. Though not written by her, Humphrey's improvisational flute-playing propels this funky cut and the rest of the album, Blacks and Blues. I don't remember who wrote it first, but one critic likened listening to this album as the epitome of a summer night of cruising, perhaps in Harlem? "Harlem River Drive," though "jazz fusion," features smooth, funky drumming and synthesizers and it all comes together through Humphrey's triumphant flute. The background vocals add an additional layer of sound, connecting the album to African-American urban communitites with references to the visible nearby projects. Before concluding, the song becomes more frenetic and the synthezier and piano more pronounced, possibly even playing an ambulance or fire alarm, asserting the song's connections to an urban audience for those those that, though celebratory and begin well, can also take a turn for the worst. A rich source for samples, "Harlem River Drive" and other tracks from the rest of the album have been sampled, rightfully so given the song's funkiness, rich multi-layered sounds, and urban ethos. Listen and thou shalt learn.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Solomon Ilori's African Highlife
Solomon
Ilori’s African High
Life
A
Blue Note record from the early 1960s and early ‘worldbeat’ or
‘world music’ fused with jazz, it is a sometimes cute, high-life
record with some amazing Afro-Jazz bonus tracks. As a fan of
highlife, I must admit that the highlife from West African bands in
Nigeria and Ghana were much better than this, such as E.T. Mensha’s
band, or Fela Kuti’s Kola Lobitos. Nevertheless, some of the songs
come out quite well, such as “Tolani,” featuring a competent drum
choir, Ilori singing (presumably in Yoruba?), talking drum, melodic
drumming solos reminiscent of some of my favorite highlife, and what
sounds like a band having fun in the studio. “Tolani (African Love
Song)” is presumably a love song, and although I have no idea what
Ilori is saying, compared to some of the other ‘highlife’
material on the album, is quite good. The saxophone solo, far from
Fela Kuti, is okay and one can tell the musician is trying to sound
like a highlife soloist. His solo is ‘cute,’ “African-like,”
melodic, and, at times, sounding like Eastern-inflected avant-garde
with some dissonances. “Ise Oluwa,” the next track, is a Yoruba
hymn to God and reflects Christianization and missionary activity in
19th
century Yorubaland. It has a very simple melody and at over 5
minutes, is a little too long, but nice for cultural value and some
perspective on Yoruba religious music. But there is very little to it
that is ‘jazzy,’ but Ilori does play a pennywhistle, very easy on
one’s ears.
As
for “Follow Me to Africa,” one hears that 6/8 ubiquitious rhythm
and drum and pennywhistle solos, but, ultimately, the song gets old
quickly because of its uninteresting theme and repetitiveness. The
drum solo gets things moving again, but otherwise, it’s a piece of
‘exotica’ that unfortunately bores. Fortunately, the more
‘highlife’-sounding “Yaba E” is adorable, Caribbean-inflected
(highlife is partly shaped by calypso and Cuban son), and features
nice marimba and saxophone, sounding almost like something one could
hear in Haiti or Trinidad. The lyrics also work here, too, with great
band accompaniment to the likely Yoruba lyrics. In addition, the
chorus and back-up vocals make it a celebratory, communal effort with
catchy rhythms and appropriate use of the marimba or xylophone. The
saxophone solo is a work of art, a mixture of bebop and highlife.
“Jojolo” also has that community-oriented, Caribbean-driven beat
and marimba or xylophone. The lyrical and clean guitar sounds like
something straight out of Cuba or the Congo with some American
influence, and the singers and percussionists give life to the
guitarist and horn section. Although definitely not ‘jazz’ per
se, but quite beautiful in its own ways with playful and often simple
improvisation and appropriate call and response vocals, especially on
the parts of the guitarist and saxophonist, the latter hinting at
Middle Eastern or North African themes in his solo at one point
before giving over to the drummers. One feels like this could be at a
venue in Lagos or Accra in the 1950s or 1960s, and something I very
much enjoy. The last track on the album before the entirely jazz
bonus tracks, “Aiye Le,” also features vocals, and an easy,
deceptively simple guitar accompaniment. Eventually, back-up
vocalists join in and Ilori is not alone. Fortunately, the song is
less than 4 minutes, because it becomes monotonous rather quickly.
“Gbogbo
Omo Ibile” is the first of where things become interesting. In a
jazz band with Ilori’s drummers (I think McCoy Tyner and Elvin
Jones may have a part in this, it definitely sounds like it), the
band does indeed sound like it is going home, home to Africa. The
melody seemingly quotes from “Wade in the Water,” a famous Negro
spiritual, and the percussionist, especially the talking drum, add in
a wave-lake texture to the piece, so the jazz band, through their
percussionist accompanists, wading across the water to the land of
our ancestors. The soloists here are firmly rooted in jazz, too, the
saxophonist sounding bop-oriented and refined, while a brilliant jazz
drummer plays in time with the African drum ensemble to give
structure to the turns and shapes conjured by the sax. At times, it
almost sounds like it’s trying to break free of the confines of the
polyrhythmic jam, until the trumpeter’s solo asserts his presence
with extended notes or shouts. To me, he sounds like Freddie Hubbard,
possessing his vigor and firm breaths of joy infusing the trumpet.
The pianist keeps things funky with some well-chosen chords until the
drummer, sounding like Jones, solos with the drum choir. He adeptly
takes advantage of the bass and larger drums, pounding and hammering,
as if he is drumming for his life to ‘wade in the water.’ One of
the drummers, likely Ilori, gets in on the fun, too, speaking through
his hand percussion while the jazz drummer swings and, with precise,
fast hands, shows the beauty, complexity, and dexterity in West
African percussionists, responding to his own rhythms while the song
keeps swinging.
“Agbamurero”
takes the jazz band and drum choir on a more “African” route,
with cowbell, call and response chants, and prominent piano.
“Agbamurero” apparently alludes to the rhino, and the
composition’s force, strengthened by the drum choir and chants and
the ‘drum-like’ piano pounding, could easily evoke a rhino
stomping through the savannah. Then the pianist and trumpet take
over, exerting a more blues-rooted style that comes out as funk that
somehow meshes well, particularly during the trumpeter’s ‘fully’
jazz solo. He breathes in long gasps of blues and soul, stretching
the notes to form a river of aural funk on the polyrhythmic waves
from the band, especially with additional help from the pianist.
Thus, what we have here is a seamless fusion of hard bop with
thunderous West African drumming, and a flute or pennywhistle solo
that is also jazz-rooted. The drum solo here is also quite nice, and
similar to some highlife band’s drum solos, though those are also
highly influenced by jazz in addition to West African and
Afro-Caribbean rhythms. But here everything succeeds, the cowbell,
the jazz drumset, hand percussion, each contributes to something
great than the sum of all its parts. Ilori and the jazz drummer play
call and response, too, each one soloing and playing in tandem.
Unfortunately,
all good things must come to an end. “Igbesi Aiye,” translated as
“Song of Praise to God,” is a spiritual, jazz poem for God. Like
“Gbogbo Omo Ibile,” brilliant trumpet improvisation with
religiously fervent piano accompaniment contributes to an ethos of
divine tribute. The trumpeter, blowing away, sounds like someone
chanting for God in a Yoruba ceremony, as in “Ise Oluwa,” while
the saxophonist also plays in a relaxed style but with utmost
gravity, bop-like at times, while holding the notes at times for
exhortations. Whoever the flautist is, they perform superbly,
invoking God(s) as the trumpeter did, and, for a lack of terms,
calling the spirits as if located in the deep recesses of the forest.
The drummer, likely Ilori, plays his drum melodically, in response to
the vamp that the entire song is built on, showing off his chops at
“praising God,” since no deity could avoid the infectious rhythms
here. The essential cowbell rhythm, forming part of the clave and
basic component of much Afro-Caribbean music, is appropriately used
in this quasi-religious spiritual. For any fan of Blue Note’s
“experimental” releases with “African” music, this is a
must-hear. Indeed, much better than Art BLakey’s “worldbeat”
releases of percussion-oriented travels in Caribbean and African
music, two of the tracks, “Jojolo,” and “Yaba E,” as well as
the three jazz bonus tracks, indicate fascinating, Afro-Jazz. On the
strength of the last bonus tracks, with their jazz bass, West African
percussion, and attention to blues, modal jazz, as well as African
music forms, this is a five star release. Any fan of jazz, especially
the type of jazz that was becoming en vogue in the early 1960s, such
as the universal spiritualism of Coltrane’s music, fusing African
and Asian spiritualties and musical influences, must listen.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Lee Morgan's Search For the New Land
"Search For the New Land" begins this brilliant album with a long, suite-like jazz composition of a spiritual tone, divided into different sections for each soloist. It sounds like something Coltrane already did with A Love Supreme but somehow unique, largely because of Grant Green's ethereal guitar. The simple, but powerful bassline keeps the song while Billy Higgins, one of my favorite jazz percussionists, keeps it soulful and, although sounding a lot like Elvin Jones, remains truly Higgins. Wayne Shorter begins the first round of solos, soaring above the sweet melody while Herbie Hancock does what he does best, playing in a modal fashion and sounding very Coltranesque. Morgan's solo is also of note, so different from his usual bluesy funk but retaining his fiery spirit, expertly accompanied by Hancock again. Morgan is all over the place but still in control, showing his prowess with modal and avant garde jazz, indicating his successful search for the new land of progressive, post-bop jazz. By far, the best soloist, however, is Hancock, whose dark, exploratory soloing perfectly captures the spirit of modal jazz and captures the spirit of the song title, sounding a little like Tyner. Grant Green's guitar, while useful for effect, is not as memorable. Throughout the entire contemplative piece that is a testament to Morgan's composing genius, Cranshaw's bass foundation holds it together. It's akin to an archipelago of islands, with each soloist on their own but connected by the rhythm and melody, which again fits well into the searching, maritime themes on other tracks of the album, particularly "Morgan the Pirate."
Unfortunately, the proceeding track, "The Joker," as its name would suggest, is too lighthearted and weakens the listener's experience of the album because its so jarring to switch immediately from a darker, pensive piece to a rather simple, bluesy ditty. But "Mr. Kenyatta," a tribute to Kenya's Jomo Kenyatta, and "Melancholee," an olbligatory pun title Morgan was so proud of ("Morgan the Pirate" is another example on this album) save the remainder of the album. "Mr. Kenyatta," which was adeptly sampled by MF Doom's previous group, KMD, for their "Contact Blitt," fusing Wayne Shorter's solo into a hip-hop context. Like "Search For the New Land," "Mr. Kenyatta," another instance of Morgan's pan-African consciousness and internationalism, is built on a simple head and, like good modal jazz, features strong soloing from Morgan, Shorter, and Hancock. Shorter especially blows everyone away, playing in a style one may associate more with stereotypical Morgan style, while indicating he can still blow, as he did with the Jazz Messengers. He shrieks, screams, honks, flies across the keys of the saxophone and, accompanied by Hancock's playing, suggestive of an emergency, provides the perfect frame for his invigorating playing. Grant Green, per usual, is "nice" to hear, but not essential to the song. His guitar, so clean and smooth, is pleasant, but negligible compared to Morgan, Shorter, and Hancock. Morgan ends the round of solos, playing more alongside his usual style, almost topping his playing on Joe Henderson's "Caribbean Fire Dance" with trumpet wails. As a nod to Kenya's independence and political leader, it also, like the title of the album, alludes to a changing world and new political (and musical) possibilities in 1964.
"Melancholee," an obvious pun, is a beautiful, ballad where Green's guitar is actually appreciated. The melancholic mood is enhanced by his sweet, simple guitar lines, and the horns accentuate the melody perfectly. This must be one of Morgan's best ballads, as well as Hancock's moving solo, suggestive of a sad, contemplative mood, while still sounding like his balladry while with Blakey. "Morgan the Pirate" concludes things on a higher note with the ongoing theme of adventure, the seas, and search for new boundaries. The song should also be seen, perhaps, as a reference to Henry Morgan, the infamous pirate who sacked and raided Spanish colonial cities in the Americas. Though named after a horrendous pirate, this song is meant to better allude to the spirit of adventure and journey, which is obvious from the light, simple, and cute soloing, particularly Morgan's. Moreover, Green's solo is actually not horrendous or unnecessary, either! Shorter, whose solo is perfectly suggestive of piracy on the high seas, the adventurous rush of a chase, is a sweet, way to end the album. Higgins keeps drumming, and adds Latin flourishes at times to his polyryhthmic fest and the album ends quite well, though reminding me for some reason (Higgins' drumming, most likely) of Miles Davis's rendition of "Someday My Prince Will Come"). Definitely one of Morgan's best.
Lee Morgan's Tom Cat
1. "Tom Cat" (Lee Morgan) – 9:50
2. "Exotique" (Morgan) – 9:34
3. "Twice Around" (Morgan) – 7:36
4. "Twilight Mist" (McCoy Tyner) – 6:57
5. "Rigormortis" (J. Del, Henry Glover, Morris Levy) – 7:27
Monday, August 13, 2012
Bobby Hutcherson's Dialogue
1. "Catta" (Hill) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHcmTwoa51A
2. "Idle While" (Chambers) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HApGq9sttbs
3. "Les Noirs Marchant" (Hill) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnu2ChBcd7U
4. "Dialogue" (Chambers) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jZycoxXNgI&
5. "Ghetto Lights" (Hill) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-ppFgyIqw0
6. "Jasper" (Hill) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUiokA9LSJ4
Although listed as a Bobby Hutcherson album, pianist Andrew Hill wrote 4 of the 6 songs on the album and might as well get the credit for this fascinating avant-garde jazz gem. Though not quite free jazz, it strays lightyears away from conventional hard bop, probably due to the fact that most of the album was composed by post-bop master, Andrew Hill. This recording session from 1965 also includes trumpet legend Freddie Hubbard, Sam Rivers, Richard Davis, a jazz bassist and professor at UW-Madison, and Joe Chambers, an excellent drummer. Hill and Chambers contribute compositions that fuse Latin jazz, blues, bop, march music, and a ballad to create inventive jazz and a piece of art. Hutcherson also plays marimba in addition to the vibraphone, Sam Rivers switches it up by playing flute on some tracks, and somehow it all meshes together well, even though it may not be nearly as accessible as his later album, Stick-Up! which is reviewed here. http://ryfigueroa.blogspot.com/2012/08/bobby-hutchersons-stick-up.html
Beginning with "Catta," Hill's Latin jazz piece, the group lays down a descarga, or Latin jam session with the characteristic clave rhythm provided by percussionist Joe Chambers in the intro. After the short, but catchy and angular theme, Sam Rivers takes off into his saxophone solo while Hill plays the essential vamp or ostinato on the piano as the foundation of the tune and Chambers provides the polyrhythmic Afro-Cuban swing needed. Sam Rivers' sax solo sounds, at times, like Eric Dolphy while approaching free jazz because of its rapid shifts between tonality and near-atonality. Freddie Hubbard's trumpet solo is far more tonal and conventional, though his longer notes around 3:20 and lines are quite catchy and danceable, unlike Rivers' solo. Hutcherson then rolls in on the vibes, playing a solo more rooted in bop that would not sound of out place in a Latin jazz jam song, partly because vibraphones and marimba are common instruments in the genre. His solo around 5:40 takes the song into interesting directions and the theme repeats itself again.
"Idle While" is the ballad on the album, and interestingly composed by Joe Chambers. It begins with the beautiful melody played by Sam Rivers on flute and Hubbard accompanying. It almost sounds too surreal or fantastical, especially with Hutcherson's vibraphones. Hubbard leads the improvisation on the tune, playing a great conventional hard bop-style solo that plays within the melody of the composition. Hutcherson's proceeding solo adds a surreal, almost dream-like quality to the song that remains, like Hubbard, within the conventions of hard bop. Richard Davis's bass, however, provides some great accompaniment until his next solo, which plays around the melody. This song would have been much better with a flute solo from Sam Rivers and perhaps piano solo by Andrew Hill, who mysteriously sits out on this track.
"Les Noirs Marchant" is Andrew Hill's ode to the Civil Rights Movement with a theme and rhythm influenced by marching bands, an early source for jazz music. The title, meaning "The Blacks Marching," is probably the most avant-garde composition on Dialogue. Andrew Hill plays some ominous lines, as does Sam Rivers and Freddie Hubbard, suggesting the conflict and turmoil of contemporary Civil Rights Movement. The conflict and search for peace represented in the march is matched by the military-style marching rhythm, which, when combined with Hutcherson's vibes and shifts in tempo symbolize the conflict between whites and blacks, between love and hate. The group improvises collectively to bring to fruition Andrew Hill's fascinating paean to the African American Civil Rights Movement, and Richard Davis provides a bass solo searing through the accompaniment of Hill's piano briefly like a saw during his pizzicato solo. Then the song moves toward chaos as everyone plays simultaneously and Chambers adds some frantic percussion. The song, which could have been better organized as a suite, then slows down, repeats the theme at the military-drums and concludes, with an ambivalent message on the success of the Civil Rights Movement.
The title track also veers toward avant-garde and free jazz. The piece has an ominous beginning, with Hutcherson's vibes and Andrew Hill's piano playing dark riffs while everyone plays together as an ensemble in collective improvisation. Hutcherson even brings out the African-sounding marimba to add to the dialogue, playing a melodic solo as Hill's piano returns and moves Chambers' composition to a further ominous direction. Like human dialogue, voices represented in this song seem to respond to each other, while simultaneously straying away from civil dialogue at times as some instrumentalists break into screams around 5:00, mainly Freddie Hubbard and Sam Rivers. Perhaps the "dialogue" aurally depicted in this song alludes to dialogue of the civil rights era and and should be seen as a comment on race relations in 1965, though the title lacks the obvious allusion in "Les Noirs Marchant."
"Ghetto Lights" and "Jasper" are the blues-rooted Andrew Hill compositions on this fine album. "Ghetto Lights" is a blues featuring a memorable Freddie Hubbard solo. An obvious reference to urban black American in 1965 and the proliferation of black ghettoization after white flight, Hubbard's soulful solo catches the desperation and hope of ghetto black America. Sam Rivers also catches that in his own bluesy clarinet solo. Chambers, Hill and Davis do a great job as rhythm section, Chambers' groove setting the stage and Davis playing some great bass licks. "Jasper" on the other hand, is a more conventional hard bop song with blues influences, but a swingin' number. Hutcherson takes off at a swinging vibraphone solo while Hill's provides accompanying blues piano riffing. Unfortunately, this album does not coalesce well with other tracks, largely because it is a bonus track added to the album, but taken alone is quite good, especially Freddie Hubbard's bop solo and Sam Rivers, who again sounds like the utterly unique Eric Dolphy.
Overall, another jazz classic featuring a veritable mix of conventional hard bop and avant-garde. Once again, it should have been listed as an Andrew Hill album because the bulk of it was written by him and he's largely responsible for the avant-garde sound that made Dialogue so unique in Blue Note's catalogue. The album's political subtext and keen attention shown toward civil rights activism and urban life for African-Americans also makes it an interesting historical record of the 1960s and shifts in jazz aesthetics, with freer and avant-garde jazz, often linked with black nationalism, becoming the predominant trend in 1960s jazz.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Andrew Hill's Black Fire
Andrew Hill, a Chicago-born jazz pianist, is one of the most unique piano composers and players in the jazz idiom. His debut album, Black Fire, is usually overlooked in favor of his subsequent release, Point of Departure. In my opinion, his debut is better and really highlights his unique voice on the piano keys. His compositions have angular melodies, which are reminiscent of Monk, but his style often sounds like 1960s Herbie Hancock in his modal phase. Like Grachan Moncur III and Wayne Shorter, Hill has some of the most memorable melodies in his music, and he's not as avant-garde as Cecil Taylor so he's much easier to listen to.
I highly recommend the title track, "Black Fire." It's a funky little piece built on Joe Henderson's bluesy saxophone and Hill's polyrhythmic approach to the piano. The title alone seems to refer to black culture and musical traditions, which would explain the polyrhythmic funkiness of the track. While embracing more traditional forms, however, Hill does not sacrifice his unique sound. The melodies are still angular and he often incorporates Afro-Cuban and Latin rhythms in several compositions. I also recommend "Subterfuge" and "Cantarnos" from this album.
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