destination: OUT

RUSHOUR
BROKEN SHADOWS
Old and New Dreams
Playing
ECM : 1980

Dewey Redman, tenor sax, musette; Don Cherry, trumpet; Charlie Haden, bass; Ed Blackwell, drums.

Is it possible this group is underappreciated? That instead of being recognized as a jazz super-ensemble, they are viewed more as an Ornette Coleman cover band? Though all bandmembers have strong ties to Coleman, and though Old and New Dreams drew on the Ornette songbook for much of their irregularly recorded life, they deserve our full attention as an organic, living, breathing, swanging thing-unto-itself.

“Rushour” is a Redman original, and he opens it with extreme brio. Cherry takes a slower tack, but the support is relentless. Blackwell handles the final solo and syncopates beautifully. Ornette’s “Broken Shadows” is given a superbly emotional reading, with some great musette from Redman; Haden’s bass is captured unbelievably well, particularly for a live date. But everybody contributes stunning playing. We cite one of our favorite records reviews of recent years: Old and New Dreams manage to MAKE. EACH. PART. AS. IMPORTANT. AS. THE. OTHER. PART. There is no “backdrop”; there is nothing “underneath.”

Here’s Ed Blackwell, who was interviewed by Robert Palmer for a March 1980 Old and New Dreams gig in New York (opening act: Arthur Blythe): “I know efforts I do individually with other people are not as strong as the feeling I have with this group. We need to have reunions, get back together for at least three or four months of the year. But you know, when I leave these cats to do my own projects, the love lasts me the rest of the year.” We know something of how he feels.

CONCLUSION (excerpt)
Keith Jarrett
The Survivors’ Suite
ECM : 1977

KJ, piano, bass clarinet; Dewey Reman; tenor sax, percussion; Charlie Haden, bass; Paul Motian, drums.

Maybe if we had Keith Jarrett’s talent we’d be regularly throwing full-on crispies at other bloggers, or at our commenters for their weak-ass contributions and lo-grade lurking (love you, commenters and lurkers!). Maybe we would consider that it is simply a tremendous privilege for you to read us, and fuck all the haters, wannabes, and cameramen. Hard to say, what without that talent and all.

Jarrett strikes us as something like a modern-day Art Tatum, someone who’s skill and pianistic genius sometimes outweighs his ability to figure out where to put it all (or, in Jarrett’s case alone, how to deal with those that don’t immediately share his appreciation for his own genius). This is most glaring on the solo sides. But when paired with equally talented sidemen, as in the Standards Trio (Peacock, DeJohnette) or especially in the American Quartet, with Redman, Haden, and Motian, his tendencies toward excess — and excessive beauty — are held in check and he becomes fully integrated into THE BAND. And here: what a great band.

Survivors’ Suite is an out-of-print ECM gem recorded live in West Germany (giving some resonance to the title) in April 1976. While very much a cohesive whole — each side is a track, “Beginning” and “Conclusion” — the Suite has lyrical moments and more open-ended explorations. We’ve elected to highlight a little of each, from the beginning of “Conclusion.”

The opening few minutes are among the most thrilling the band ever threw down, a series of colliding and interlocking riffs that’s both funky and indeterminate, swervingly off-kilter and masterfully assured, threatening to jump the rails but purely by design. Motian uncorks a propulsive drum solo and afterwards you’ll be forgiven for wondering if a different band has taken the stage. Jarrett unfurls a placid and crystalline melody as if suddenly remembering, whoops, this is an ECM album. This lovely section is easy on the ears, but the band subtly subverts it as well, finding odd tonal hints of dissonance and off rhythmic accents. They’re showing they can have it both ways, all ways, any ways. And damn if they aren’t just about right.

Oh, and here’s how to turn a tirade into lemonade: deliciously refreshing.

CARNAVALITO
TUPAC AMARU
Gato Barbieri
Fenix
Flying Dutchman : 1971

GB, tenor sax, flute; Lonnie Liston Smith, keyboards; Joe Beck, guitar; Ron Carter, bass; Nana Vasconcelos, percussion, conga, berimbau; Lenny White III, drums.

While Gato Barbieri’s Fenix is a fine example of rhythmic free jazz, we’ve mostly been spinning this platter because its best tracks have a lazy, sticky, summer vibe. These tunes wouldn’t sound out of place on mix alongside some vintage Fania fare. And while you wouldn’t mistake this for, say, Siembra, the songs still evoke those mythical July weekends where music sounds best while sitting on the stoop and listening to it blast from a nearby car stereo. They’re hot like that.

“Carnavalito” finds Barbieri transitioning from avant firebrand to kozmigroov shaman. Against a steady barage of Afro-Brazilian percussion and a hypnotic piano vamp, Gato’s sax pounds through some insistent rhythms before unleashing several sustained bursts of his trademark paint-peeling wail. Dig how the nuanced screeches are juxtaposed against a rhythm section so solid that you could keep dancing without spilling your drink. It’s spiritual jazz reminiscent of Alice Coltrane’s early solo joints, but friskier.

“Tupac Amaru” (different Tupac, yo) sports a mellow funky feel. Best listened to in the early evening as the sun is starting to fade in the sky like a 40 watt bulb. Lonnie Liston Smith’s cascading synth lines add some subtly freaky textures while Gato slowly turns the heat up to simmer. He slowly builds the tension, escalating the song almost to the point of fever pitch but not quite. While parts of this tune may hint at Gato’s later de-evolution into romantic schmaltz, it always stays on the right side of the line. Welcome to the free jazz/soft rock axis. But more on that another time.

CONTOUR THREE
The Bill Dixon Orchestra
17 Musicians in Search of a Sound: Darfur
AUM Fidelity : 2008

Bill Dixon, trumpet/composer; Graham Haynes, cornet/flugelhorn; Stephen Haynes, cornet/flugelhorn; Taylor Ho Bynum, cornet/flugelhorn; Dick Griffin, tenor trombone; Steve Swell, tenor trombone; Joseph Daley, tuba; Karen Borca, bassoon; Will Connell, bass clarinet; Michel Côté, Bb contrabass clarinet; Andrew Raffo Dewar, soprano saxophone; John Hagen, tenor & baritone saxophones; JD Parran, bass saxophone, bamboo flute; Andrew Lafkas, bass; Glynis Loman, cello; Jackson Krall, drums & percussion; Warren Smith, vibraphone, tympani & drums.

INTERVIEW [edit; 12 min.]
Bill Dixon interviewed by Phil Freeman, 27 April 2008

Everything’s coming up Dixon. This week AUM Fidelity releases Dixon’s 17 Musicians in Search of a Sound: Darfur, recorded at last year’s Vision Festival. Dixon was honored on that evening a year ago for lifetime achievement, but given his output this year — including an earlier large group work with the Exploding Star Orchestra — and planned work for next year, the award was perhaps given prematurely.

He is also the subject of a major article in the current issue of the Wire, by Phil Freeman. (Freeman shared his interview tapes with us; we’ve included one of the more fascinating chunks above. The entire conversation can be heard here.) There also appears to be a big Signal to Noise story in the works from Clifford Allen, as devined from this comment thread (mind the bile).

The gentlemanly Steven Joerg of AUM Fidelity was kind enough to allow us to post a track from 17 Musicians for one week only. Check it out here through Monday, then go buy your own. This little snapshot is not nearly enough, but we hope it will whet your appetite for the full hour’s worth. The concert was an unalloyed success. Nobody does sound texture and dynamics like Dixon, and for 17 Musicians he really brings the low end out front. “Contour Three” is a decent microcosm of the whole, offering spare, quieter solo and duo passages that build, in sonic waves, to a sustained wail.

Stephen Haynes, a longtime collaborator of Dixon’s, played on the date and is credited as orchestra/production coordinator; he has also been blogging on Dixon. Haynes offers his own thoughts on the recording, and has provided the Signal to Noise reivew. Last year he also posted a number of photos from the concert and related rehearsal.

The title of this post was adapted from a Dixon utterance found here.

When we ran our Vijay Iyer-penned piano mixtape last year, one of the kindest comments came from fellow blogger Hank Shteamer, who noted that he hoped it wouldn’t be our last such compilation. Little did we know at the time that our next mix would come courtesy of Hank himself, who volunteered to create the following mind-bending, eye-opening playlist featuring the piano stylings of the underappreciated Bobby Few. So without much more ado, we are truly pleased and honored to present, on the occasion of Few’s Vision Festival appearance scheduled for Friday, 13 June, “Hung Up on Nothing,” compiled by Hank Shteamer @ Dark Forces Swing Blind Punches.

> > > > > > >

One of the reasons I moved to Paris was that I heard [the Frank Wright Quartet with Bobby Few, Alan Silva and Muhammad Ali] at a festival in Amougie in ‘69. I said, “Wow, that’s the piano player I’ve been looking for.” I was crazy about Bobby right away. He was the first pianist I heard after Cecil [Taylor] that had something to say of his own… [He] had his own thing post-Cecil and was not hung up on Cecil. In fact, he wasn’t hung up on anything. He was totally original and very well developed. But he was working with Frank and I didn’t get him for ten years.
–Steve Lacy, in a 2002 interview reprinted in the invaluable Conversations

Steve Lacy, early acolyte of Thelonious Monk and Cecil Taylor, and a lifelong collaborator of Mal Waldron, kept sterling piano company. But Bobby Few is the only player that spurred him toward physical relocation. Surveying Few’s discography, it’s easy to hear why. As Lacy suggests, the now 72-year-old Cleveland native (and longtime Paris resident) can, like his seven-year elder Taylor, dazzle you with prismatic density, but his vision of free jazz favors heart-bursting romance over turbulent virtuosity.

Encompassing vibrant R&B, tender balladry and rainbowlike swirls of glimmering rubato, Few’s keyboardism is one of the lushest, most nourishing textures in jazz. If his place in the Jaki Byard lineage of what I like to call Total Pianists — alongside Dave Burrell, another keyboardist who ventured into free jazz with a firm sense of blues and other prebop styles — isn’t yet secure, that pantheon is sorely incomplete without him. By way of previewing Few’s New York duo with the great multireedist Sonny Simmons at Vision Festival XIII on Friday, 6/13 (and another hit in Philly the following night), I’ve cooked up a sampler of tracks from his wide-ranging discography. You’ll hear several selections of Few alone at the piano, but they’re balanced by examples of his work as an outstandingly adaptable team player in bands led by Lacy, Albert Ayler and others.

HUNG UP ON NOTHING: A BOBBY FEW MIXTAPE
[download the entire hour-plus, 100 MB program here]

TYRA
Booker Ervin
The In Between
Blue Note : 1968
BUY

BE, tenor sax; BF, piano; Richard Williams, trumpet; Cevera Jeffries, bass; Lenny McBrowne, drums.

Few played with a wide variety of monster saxists, and this 1968 recording — probably Few’s debut, though he also participated in an imprecisely dated Marzette Watts session the same year — with ultrabluesy tenor titan Ervin was the first such documented occasion. The In Between is classic, not to mention exceedingly classy, Blue Note postbop and Few only adds to the elegance. On “Tyra,” his four-bar intro sets a languid, noirish mood. He solos third, riding in on a tumbling reverie, which he muses over throughout his half chorus. It’s a brief but substantial foreshadowing of his later work, especially when you consider the muted, hazy chords he lays down underneath the subsequent bass solo.

DRUDGERY
Albert Ayler
Music Is the Healing Force of the Universe
Impulse : 1969
BUY

AA, tenor sax; BF, piano; Henry Vestine, guitar; Stafford James, bass; Bill Folwell, bass, bass guitar; Muhammad Ali, drums.

Way sloppier and sweatier is this loosey-goosey blues jam from a late, often-overlooked Ayler date. Few, the saxist’s childhood buddy (according to All Music), is clearly entirely at home in the track’s barrelhouse vibe, and he spurs on Ayler and moonlighting Canned Heat guitarist Vestine with maniacally hammered single notes and flurries of unhinged free blues.

TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE [excerpt]
Frank Wright Quartet
Last Polka in Nancy?
Fractal : 1999

FW, tenor sax; BF, piano; Alan Silva, bass; Muhammad Ali, drums.

It was only natural that Few would eventually fall in with Revered Frank Wright, one of Ayler’s most ardent disciples. This version of Wright’s quartet (sometimes referred to as Center of the World), featuring Few, bassist Alan Silva and drummer Muhammad Ali — Rashied’s equally nimble brother, also behind the kit on “Drudgery” — seems to have crystallized in the early ’70s and to Steve Lacy’s dismay, worked together until the early ’80s. “Two Birds with One Stone,” recorded in 1978 when the group was at peak strength and issued as a bonus track on Fractal’s now out-of-print CD reissue of Last Polka in Nancy?, is quintessential expatriate free jazz: wild, shaggy and bombastic, and feeding here off what was likely an enthusiastic German audience. Alongside Wright’s bellows, Few’s contributions are like billowing tapestries draped over the music, cascading in every direction and adding a key element of dreamy beauty. The piano solo feels like a sumptuous rubato dance. (Here’s a tantalizingly brief clip of Few, Silva and Ali performing as a trio; this band is documented on Few’s turbulent More or Less Few LP from 1973.)

SONG FOR CYRILLE, CHILDREN OF JOY + EL TORRO
Bobby Few
Solos & Duets
Sun : 1975

BF, piano, vocals.

The Wright band’s activities also included many satellite pursuits such as a Wright/Ali duo album and 1975’s two volumes of solos and duets featuring various combinations of Wright, Few and Silva. The first LP kicks off with two brief, fascinating Few solo pieces. Few’s career-long love of singing has sometimes resulted in distracting interjections, but on “Song for Cyrille, Children of his Joy” (named for Few’s son, who makes a cameo on Lacy’s 1982 Prospectus LP), the pianist’s voice is perfectly integrated. The piece is a bighearted ode to childhood innocence, marked by a stirring, almost Ray Charles-like humming episode at about 1:08. “El Torro” might be the most successful of Few’s many programmatic solo tunes (his 2000 Vision Festival appearance, released by Boxholder as Continental Jazz Express, features an explicit evocation of an international train journey). As clichéd as the bull-fight notion is, this is a fun, propulsive example of impassioned moodmaking.

CREOLE GIRL
Noah Howard
Red Star
Mercury France/Boxholder : 1977
BUY

NH, alto sax; BF, piano; Richard Williams, trumpet; Guy Pederson, bass; Kenny Clarke, drums.

Howard’s “Creole Girl” is also a mood piece, specifically a festive, funky one. Before Silva was in Wright’s quartet, the altoist often rounded out the band, and Howard and Few have enjoyed a consistently fruitful partnership ever since (check them out together in September of 2000, and in 1997 in the company of Kali Fasteau). Interestingly, this ‘77 session also features trumpeter Richard Williams, who appears on The In Between, as well as the great bebop pioneer Kenny Clarke behind the kit. As Ervin did on “Tyra,” Howard has the good sense to let Few set the stage. The pianist proceeds to take the first solo and absolutely rocks, showing off his deep pocket and fancy filigrees, as well as some jackhammer blues stabs and chromatic swirls like the ones he let fly on “Drudgery.”

NAPPING (Take 1)
The Steve Lacy Sextet
The Gleam
Silkheart : 1986
BUY

SL, soprano sax; BF, piano; Steve Potts, soprano sax; Irene Aebi, vocals; Jean-Jacques Avenel, bass; Oliver Johnson, drums.

Steve Lacy finally got his wish and in return he gave Few arguably the most luxurious extended showcase of his career. The pair recorded a bevy of sessions together between ‘82 and ‘93 and along with saxist Steve Potts, the pianist leavened Lacy’s droll idiosyncrasy with earthy majesty. Few runs away with the show on this 1986 performance of Lacy’s sly ode to midday dozing. It’s not a hijacking though, since Few is so thematically attuned to the piece. He starts his solo with several of his patented sweeping downward cascades, playing up the air of mystery. Then comes a lilting back-and-forth that seems to trace the path of a falling leaf, followed by a somber moment of reflection and a series of jittery trills. Afterward he buffets Potts’s soprano solo with playful obbligato.

WICKETS (live)
Steve Lacy and Bobby Few
unreleased : 1992

SL, soprano sax; BF, piano.

Mal Waldron was Lacy’s go-to duo pianist, but there are several precious recorded examples of the saxist alone with Few, one being an epochal “Forgetful” from 1988’s The Door (still gettable here; consider it a bonus track). This “Wickets,” grabbed from the Turkish Gizmo blog and bootlegged in Istanbul in ‘92, is a true rarity. The sound quality is far from pristine, but with only two players the fantastic gist is clear. Lacy blasts off from the thorny head, and Few immediately sets the piano’s coordinates for Planet Blues; as you can tell from the daredevil swoop at 2:16, the saxist is clearly game. Few ups the rollicking factor higher and higher, and when Lacy exits at 4:33, the walls really start to drip. This is simply some badass burlesque swagger, settling into a perverse grind. Heatwave, straight up. (For an even later example of the Few/Lacy hookup, try this.)

ENOMIS
Bobby Few
Lights and Shadows
Boxholder : 2007
BUY

BF, piano.

We’re back to a more sublimated romantic mood on “Enomis,” from Few’s latest widely available release, a solo studio set on Boxholder. “Simone” spelled backward, this is just one in a three-decade series of Few’s dedications to his wife; see the aforementioned More or Less Few for another wonderful example. Nothing to prove here, just a perfectly articulated, beautifully shaded melody with all the concision and grace of a vintage standard. Listen for the upswing into waltz tempo at about 1:00. Few’s trademark cascading impressionism is here, but in measured doses (savor the subtly filigreed notes around 2:30). The pianist, it turns out, serves his own tunes as efficiently and economically as he does those of others.

*****

So, long live Bobby Few, always. There’s a ton more to explore, and here are a few places you might want to look:

–The seemingly thorough and accurate discography I’ve worked from is here.

–Few’s own site is a little haphazard, but it contains important info on the pianist’s current Parisian working band, which you can see/hear here and here.

–Apparently Simmons and Few have a new duo CD on the way. There’s a tantalizing mention on Simmons’s web site of a June ‘08 release date for “Live at l’Atelier Tampon-Ramier, live recording of the Sonny Simmons/Bobby Few duet.” No info on how to order, but keep checking back.

–No examination of Few’s discography is complete without a sampling of his recent work with the gutsy reedist Avram Fefer. The pair has issued several sessions on Boxholder from the past few years and one on CIMP (unfortunately, I didn’t have these at hand while compiling this mix); good info is here, at Fefer’s site. Even better is Fefer’s YouTube channel, which contains a bunch of clips of him and Few in action. Few is particularly killer on this version of Fefer’s “Heavenly Places,” which contains some thrilling close-ups of those magical digits at work.

–Lastly, it’s unlikely you’ll find a free-jazz legend that Clifford Allen hasn’t exhaustively researched and definitively interviewed. As you’ll see from this important All About Jazz piece, Few is no exception.

*****

Hank and Dest: Out gratefully acknowledge the fine folks at the Boxholder and Silkheart labels, for generously agreeing to allow us to post several of the tracks above.

I WALK
Don Cherry
Home Boy
Barclay : 1985

DC, vocals, piano, trumpet, harp, melodica; Ramuntcho Matta, guitar; Elli Medieros, backing vocals; Fil Mong, bass; Jeanne-Pierre Coco, congas; Abdoulaye Prosper Niang, drums.

It’s a straight-up fact that not enough jazz artists release 7″ singles. So here’s a flip side from a shoulda been chart-topper courtesy of globe-trotting jazz legend Don Cherry. The man was unafraid to mix styles and here he marries a tuff disco groove, avant blats of brass, percolating funk rhythms, and a lighter-than-air vocal. Tres Chic, no? It’s a quintessential summer tune, sure to put a strut in the ole step as you promenade around your ‘burgh. And if you’re not smiling by the time Don starts jonesing for some roller skates, well, you’re stuck in the timewarp winter doldrums. So check the temperature and get with it. It’s hot outside, baby.

For the genre-bound, we might label this: “Disco Jazz.” Or better yet: “Roller Disco Jazz.” Or maybe best of all: “No Wave Roller Disco Jazz.” Not for nothing was this track selected for the seminal no wave/dance compilation Disco/Not Disco. The tune hails from Don’s 1986 French effort Home Boy and marries his adventurous world-jazz fusions with funk and even some hip hop inflections. Dig his flow throughout the tune. Was this his attempt to sell out? Hardly. Home Boy is so obscure it isn’t even listed by the estimable All Music Guide. Call it brave instead and put it on repeat. “That’s it!” Don shouts. “I’m gone.” Indeed.

ONLY EDGES
from Musician
Ken Vandermark and Paal Nilssen-Love
unreleased : 2006
Paal Nilssen-Love/TONO and Ken Vandermark/Twenty First Mobile Music/ASCAP

KV, sax; PNL, percussion.

Dest: OUT was lucky enough to have been present at a screening of Daniel Kraus’ wonderful documentary Musician when it opened New York about a year ago. A very gracious and patient Ken Vandermark — the subject of the film — answered questions after the showing, and played several tunes, unaccompanied. A week or so ago, the DVD of Musician was released. We are fortunate to be able to feature here a long track that was recorded by Kraus, along with some comments from both the filmmaker and musician. The song itself remains unreleased, but for a snippet that appears in the film.

From Kraus:

The music was an improv recorded by me in Montreal on June 18, 2006, directly preceding the Q&A scene that’s in the movie. I noticed, while wearing headphones, that the first 30 sec. are a little wonky; clearly I was adjusting the right and left channels when Ken and Paal started playing quite suddenly. But isn’t that part of the charm?

From Vandermark:

My interest in working with Daniel Kraus on the making of his documentary, Musician, was based on its connection with idea of “work” and his ongoing series of films dealing with this subject, not because his movie would present some kind of biography that used me as a subject. Musician gives an audience a rare chance to see the effort and activity that goes into getting on stage to perform; very few people other than the artists involved know what’s really entailed. Musician will change that for anyone who sees it. I feel that creativity is not a pastime, working to be an artist is a job of sorts, and Daniel has given people a glimpse of what it means to take on that responsibility.

Kraus again:

I didn’t make this movie specifically for jazz fans. You could argue, in fact, that this movie has nothing to do with jazz. It has to do with making phone calls and paying bills and loading heavy equipment in and out of rental vans. Like all the movies in my Work Series, the popular notion of what constitutes a given profession is rarely the reality. In the case of Musician, the prevailing expectation is musical performances. Such scenes exist in the movie - most pointedly at the very end - but, observing Ken’s daily life, this was not my experience of the job. In essence, Ken - as well as countless other full-time musicians - is also an accountant, a small-business owner, a talent agent, a collection agency, and a furniture mover. As it turns out, when added together these things equal “musician.”

On the other hand, I can’t think of a movie that more quickly cuts to the core of what its like to be a working musician - particularly a jazz musician - at this time in American history. After seeing the movie, you tell me whether that conclusion is grim, inspiring, or both.

You can catch a bit of this tune in the four minutes of footage you’ll find here. Needless to say, the film is outstanding, a straightforward and unadorned look at the life of a creative artist. The DVD includes the theatrical release of the film, nearly an hour of deleted scenes, and performances by everyone from The Vandermark 5 to CINC to Territory Band, an essay by jazz legend Peter Brotzmann, and previews of other Work Series documentaries. Buy it at the Work Store. And if you live in Chicagoland, join Ken Vandermark and Paal Nilssen-Love on June 11 at the Hideout as they celebrate the DVD release with a live concert (which will be recorded for a future CD release).

&c. &c. &c.

So the redesign. After 160+ votes (for which, thanks), those that think it worse than before were consistently in the majority, holding steady between 40 and 50 percent of respondents. Before we bend to the will of the masses, we’re going to live with the current layout for a few more weeks, mostly for change’s sake. We also think that getting rid of the poll itself may by itself help spiff up the place. Appreciate your forbearance as we’ve retooled lately. Any concerns or major gripes, by all means air ‘em out in the comments.