quinta-feira, 27 de maio de 2010
John Coltrane in Germany (1960)
Tracks:
01 - On Green Dolphin Street
02 - Walkin
03 - The Theme
Line-up:
John Coltrane - Tenor & Soprano Sax
Wynton Kelly - Piano
Paul Chambers - Bass
Jimmy Cobb - Drums
Oscar Peterson - Piano
Etiquetas:
Jimmy Cobb,
John Coltrane,
Oscar Peterson,
Paul Chambers,
Wynton Kelly
quarta-feira, 26 de maio de 2010
terça-feira, 25 de maio de 2010
Boogie Woogie Waltz (1975)
Line-up:
Joe Zawinul - piano / keyboards
Wayne Shorter - soprano saxophone
Alphonso Johnson - electric bass
Chester Thomson - drums
Alex Acuña - percussion
Etiquetas:
Alex Acuña,
Alphonso Johnson,
Chester Thomson,
Joe Zawinul,
Wayne Shorter,
Weather Report
segunda-feira, 24 de maio de 2010
Don Cherry - Organic Music Society (1972)
"[Don Cherry's exoticism] is not that of the Orient and not that of Africa; it is the exoticism of Somewhere, the Here and Somewhere; and this means it is the exoticism of dreams." Alain Gerber, 1971
Despite its emergence there in the early sixties, the ‘free-jazz’ movement garnered a limited and very temporary acceptance in America. Following Coltrane’s death, many exponents of free-jazz sought refuge in the (mostly) welcoming arms of other musical styles (to the utter horror of the purist jazz-critics, and true delight of REAL music fans everywhere). Some merged the freedom of jazz with the rhythmic strictures of funk, for example, (Miles, obviously, but also Ornette Coleman’s out-there ‘free-funk’ project, Prime Time). Yet others would take their searches further afield, finding a welcome audience for this most experimental of musical forms, especially in Europe (Manfred Eicher’s ECM Records, for example). This literal movement east-wards was further compounded by a similar psycho-spiritual, inherently mystical movement towards non-western philosophies and cultures: a movement articulated, particularly, through the musical styles and techniques of various third-world countries.
Thus, the seventies were a time of real musical adventures and ‘travelogues,’ with many of the American free-jazz ‘exiles’ pioneering the blending of their own avant-garde styles with the traditional music(s) of India, Africa, Japan etc. Leading this burgeoning ‘World-Fusion’ movement, was the late free-jazz pioneer: Don Cherry. Having already released what many consider to be the founding text of World-Fusion: Eternal Rhythm (1968) on the hip German MPS label, Cherry had also provided BYG/ACTUEL with Mu (Part’s One and Two - 1969): a legendary freak-flute-and-horn collaboration with percussionist Ed Blackwell (the Mu LP’s, in particular, are the sound of your DNA imploding!!) Upping sticks in the early seventies to the Swedish hinterlands (were he would meet wife, Mocqui - a.k.a. Moki), Cherry gathered together a community of Swedish, Turkish, Brazilian, and American jazz-hippies, and set about creating this monumentally ramshackle, but eternally endearing, communal, free-jazz/world-fusion text, for the achingly obscure Swedish label, Caprice. Like Wegmuller’s Tarot, or Lula Cortez et Ze Ramahlo’s Paebiru, this is one of those out-there, early-to-mid-seventies, mystical ur-fucking-doubles!! - a massive musical tract that exists as a self-enclosed, universal totality - offering a myriad of psycho-musical landscapes that take in Africanised free-jazz and ritual percussion, Buddhist-funk, sublimely blissful minimalism, European free-folk, and mystical chanting. To whit, Don Cherry’s ORGANIC MUSIC SOCIETY.
It kicks of with percussionist, Nana Vasconcelos’ “North Brazilian Ceremonial Hymn,” 12 mother-fucking minutes of Manson Family-type vocal droning, as dreadfully sinister as it is sublimely meditative. Somewhere, wife Moki is stroking a tamboura, whilst other commune members intone a woozy, wordless chant that rises and falls like the setting of an ancient sun. Sounding for all the world like some long-lost abstract prayer to Incan generations past, Vasconcelos can be heard rattling what sounds like a big ole’ bag of dried voodoo-bones in the corner, before moving on to altogether more out-there percussive devices!! Before you know it, the dude is twinging, twanging, and oooh-weeeoooh-wee-oooh-weee-ing his way to enlightenment, and the solemn chant drones on. Soon, in a show of communal camaraderie, the commune begin emptying whole bin-bags chock-full of obscure percussive devices onto the floor, as the chant peaks. It then starts its downward trajectory, until all that is left is Cherry’s earthly hum, and the ever present, all-pervading tamboura drone.
“Elixir” conjures up an ancient forest glade at sunrise, Cherry’s breathy wood-flute melody gently persuading tentative creatures out of their night-time abodes to bask in the sun. A fertile and primal landscape is concocted, as this solo flute piece twitters on for a few minutes. Until a sudden cry is heard amongst the forest canopy, that is. Shit! the animals are back in their holes before you can say ‘free-jazz,’ taking cover, as a rumbling barrelhouse piano gallops into earshot; crazily thwacked drums propel an ancient boogie-woogie piano assault - until its breaks down again into more muttered African-type yelps - only to erupt again.
Again, like most of Cherry’s orchestrations of this period - a background Indian drone is set up for Hans Isgren’s beautiful “Manusha Raga Kamboji‘” - some of Cherry’s plaintive, African-type, folk-song vocal moaning accumulates alongside it (before literally jumping out of the mix); its has a very soothing vocal presence, a sort of universal lullaby, a panacea for all the ills of the world. In all seriousness, though, we are journeying headlong into the mystic here - the REAL (and modern) world left far, far behind. Hans Isgren chokes his sarangi - a kind of strange Indian instrument that looks like a violin inside an ornate music box (only held like a mini-cello) instrument - which growls and coughs out a grating discordant, dread-filled string piece, the music turning on a darkly religious vibe - calling the (devilishly) faithful to prayer.
Next up is a two-part, early run-through for Cherry's fascinating 1973 release, Relativity Suite. That said, the version is very formative, and bears only a passing resemblance, at times, to the finished LP. “Relativity Suite Part 1,” for example, begins with African chanting across a strange lolloping, kangarooing, percussion track over which Cherry lays down his musico-philosophical raison d’etre. Many spiritual proclamations follow concerning “the frustration of temptation,” et al. - mixed, intermittently, with Cherry’s strange bird-like vocal shrills and Buddhist om-chants. Cherry’s voice - never his main instrument - displays a beautiful timbre at times. “Relativity Suite Part 2” follows in the same vein - describing his “organic manifesto” more assertively over a deep, deep, DEEP, marimba-like bass-line:
Spiritual development by the aid of music / Who are the heroes of imagination?
A five-pointed star, a crescent moon, and a hawk!
[And so on…Could have come straight off the back off a Santana LP - No wonder Alejandro Jodorowsky immediately signed Cherry up to help with the soundtrack to The Holy Mountain (1973) - a huge meta-spiritual quest saga, partially bankrolled by the Lennon’s, and originally set to star George Harrison in the lead role of “the Thief”].
Actually, if any part of this colossal LP starts to drag it is almost certainly here, as the two parts of this ‘suite’ reach upwards of 18 minutes in total. Cherry does change tack slightly with the next offering, “Terry’s Tune,” his version of mystic American minimalist, Terry Riley’s own tune - a kind of late-Can-type repeat-athon, with some great free-jazz flute perched precariously over the top; it breaks down into a chaotic, entropic, avant-garde battle between Turkish percussionist, Okay Temiz’ fiery drums and Cherry’s trumpet conjuring - a rampant few minutes in any one’s musical book.
This leads in to one of the most beautiful pieces Cherry ever wrote - and one of his late-period, signature works: “Hope” (later recorded for Relativity Suite under the name “Desireless” with sax replacing the voice). A golden flurry of rippling piano chords (ala Alice Coltrane and, also, Magma’s own John Coltrane ode’ “Coltrane Sundia” from Kohntarkoz), and a yearning, wordless wail issues from Cherry. He sounds like he is bearing all the troubles of the world single-handedly, and, yet, is still willing to humble himself before us all. Spell-bindingly beautiful in its soul-baring simplicity, the tune develops into a steady-paced piano & vocal chant - a hymn to an earlier ‘age of the Ancients.’ 10 minutes of free-bliss - the flutes, and sun-drenched cymbal strokes, adjoining the groove to create pure musical manna from heaven.
Indeed, listening to the music of Don Cherry (and reading up about the man), he comes across as one of the most humble characters you could ever wish to meet - a true mystic, a journeyman, - one jazz critic even described him as a ‘wood nymph,’ trotting down New York streets.
[Don’s step-daughter, Neneh Cherry, tells an endearing story about her early days living with him in New York. Don would take her, and her step-brother, Eagle Eye, to ride on the subway, where he would suddenly whip out an African Wood Flute with out a moments notice, hassling both children until they joined in the impromptu improvisation! What a guy!! Believe me the world needs more people like Don Cherry].
Pharoah Sanders’ (free-)jazz-soul anthem “The Creator has a Master Plan.” is covered next by Cherry (both musicians had featured on most of the important free-jazz and ‘avant-garde’ recordings). A quick-paced piano gallop (unnervingly similar to jazz-standard: Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”), is then replaced by that well-known two-chord vamp, arriving to tell us that the creator, does indeed, have a master plan. More dancing flute and rolling drums create a loose-limbed take on the Sanders standard - as great jazzy trumpet fills in the spaces with woozy runs - very messy, but endearingly so! In fact, there is a generous and humbled pastoral quality scored right through the very core of this LP, very much in keeping with the late-sixties/early-seventies hippie-commune ethos it extols. This track finishes amongst some crazy brass flourishes and thwacked drums - until Cherry and his magical cohorts waltz off into the sunset on that ever-rolling, two-chord groove.
“Sidharta” and “Utopia and Visions” are two more pastoral-side-of-Magma-type tunes - all sun-dappled piano, and wordless chant doubled on piano/vocal - makes me wonder how much of Don Cherry's music those elder priests of zeuhl had heard prior to the Kohntarkosz sessions (given the date of this LP). This merges into another version of “Hope” (indeed, this melody must have obsessed Cherry, reappearing on a number of LP’s in different versions). This later version is more instrumental , with some marvellous Garden of Eden-style flute playing, giving a vibe that is, on a more general level, similar to the last eight minutes of Popol Vuh’s gorgeous “In den Garten Pharos.”
“Resa” finishes the LP in a slight sinister style - a huge communal vocal chant by the Swedish Youth Orchestra who, by the sound of it, have seemingly been lured into some haunted underground cavern with promises of mystical enlightenment (and session fees!!) - Cherry gathers these tribes together to ululate a resonant, but wobbly-pitched, kind of guttural chorale. Herrmann style rising/falling string-sequences accompany this unearthly groan. This track (especially the strings) also has a strange Indian or Arabic flavour to it - sounding distant - as if beaming in from another psychic plane - and is backed up by some great swing-type drumming, only for that eternally unending Terry Riley riff to reappear out of nowhere. All manner of strange vocals are now emanating from the lost corners of the mix. All the while, the woozy string sequence creates some type of strange sonic sea-sickness in the listener, who, by this time, is either travelling blissfully upon the astral plane - OR - alternatively, muttering discontentedly about “those fucking free-jazz types!!”
It’s quite a unsettling end to an amazing 80-minutes, or so, of musical mysticism. Ragged, but sublimely beautiful, endearingly simple and, at times, frustratingly complex, melding the ancient and the modern - all the essential paradoxes of the human condition are engaged at length in Don Cherry’s Organic Music Society.
By Julian Cope Despite its emergence there in the early sixties, the ‘free-jazz’ movement garnered a limited and very temporary acceptance in America. Following Coltrane’s death, many exponents of free-jazz sought refuge in the (mostly) welcoming arms of other musical styles (to the utter horror of the purist jazz-critics, and true delight of REAL music fans everywhere). Some merged the freedom of jazz with the rhythmic strictures of funk, for example, (Miles, obviously, but also Ornette Coleman’s out-there ‘free-funk’ project, Prime Time). Yet others would take their searches further afield, finding a welcome audience for this most experimental of musical forms, especially in Europe (Manfred Eicher’s ECM Records, for example). This literal movement east-wards was further compounded by a similar psycho-spiritual, inherently mystical movement towards non-western philosophies and cultures: a movement articulated, particularly, through the musical styles and techniques of various third-world countries.
Thus, the seventies were a time of real musical adventures and ‘travelogues,’ with many of the American free-jazz ‘exiles’ pioneering the blending of their own avant-garde styles with the traditional music(s) of India, Africa, Japan etc. Leading this burgeoning ‘World-Fusion’ movement, was the late free-jazz pioneer: Don Cherry. Having already released what many consider to be the founding text of World-Fusion: Eternal Rhythm (1968) on the hip German MPS label, Cherry had also provided BYG/ACTUEL with Mu (Part’s One and Two - 1969): a legendary freak-flute-and-horn collaboration with percussionist Ed Blackwell (the Mu LP’s, in particular, are the sound of your DNA imploding!!) Upping sticks in the early seventies to the Swedish hinterlands (were he would meet wife, Mocqui - a.k.a. Moki), Cherry gathered together a community of Swedish, Turkish, Brazilian, and American jazz-hippies, and set about creating this monumentally ramshackle, but eternally endearing, communal, free-jazz/world-fusion text, for the achingly obscure Swedish label, Caprice. Like Wegmuller’s Tarot, or Lula Cortez et Ze Ramahlo’s Paebiru, this is one of those out-there, early-to-mid-seventies, mystical ur-fucking-doubles!! - a massive musical tract that exists as a self-enclosed, universal totality - offering a myriad of psycho-musical landscapes that take in Africanised free-jazz and ritual percussion, Buddhist-funk, sublimely blissful minimalism, European free-folk, and mystical chanting. To whit, Don Cherry’s ORGANIC MUSIC SOCIETY.
It kicks of with percussionist, Nana Vasconcelos’ “North Brazilian Ceremonial Hymn,” 12 mother-fucking minutes of Manson Family-type vocal droning, as dreadfully sinister as it is sublimely meditative. Somewhere, wife Moki is stroking a tamboura, whilst other commune members intone a woozy, wordless chant that rises and falls like the setting of an ancient sun. Sounding for all the world like some long-lost abstract prayer to Incan generations past, Vasconcelos can be heard rattling what sounds like a big ole’ bag of dried voodoo-bones in the corner, before moving on to altogether more out-there percussive devices!! Before you know it, the dude is twinging, twanging, and oooh-weeeoooh-wee-oooh-weee-ing his way to enlightenment, and the solemn chant drones on. Soon, in a show of communal camaraderie, the commune begin emptying whole bin-bags chock-full of obscure percussive devices onto the floor, as the chant peaks. It then starts its downward trajectory, until all that is left is Cherry’s earthly hum, and the ever present, all-pervading tamboura drone.
“Elixir” conjures up an ancient forest glade at sunrise, Cherry’s breathy wood-flute melody gently persuading tentative creatures out of their night-time abodes to bask in the sun. A fertile and primal landscape is concocted, as this solo flute piece twitters on for a few minutes. Until a sudden cry is heard amongst the forest canopy, that is. Shit! the animals are back in their holes before you can say ‘free-jazz,’ taking cover, as a rumbling barrelhouse piano gallops into earshot; crazily thwacked drums propel an ancient boogie-woogie piano assault - until its breaks down again into more muttered African-type yelps - only to erupt again.
Again, like most of Cherry’s orchestrations of this period - a background Indian drone is set up for Hans Isgren’s beautiful “Manusha Raga Kamboji‘” - some of Cherry’s plaintive, African-type, folk-song vocal moaning accumulates alongside it (before literally jumping out of the mix); its has a very soothing vocal presence, a sort of universal lullaby, a panacea for all the ills of the world. In all seriousness, though, we are journeying headlong into the mystic here - the REAL (and modern) world left far, far behind. Hans Isgren chokes his sarangi - a kind of strange Indian instrument that looks like a violin inside an ornate music box (only held like a mini-cello) instrument - which growls and coughs out a grating discordant, dread-filled string piece, the music turning on a darkly religious vibe - calling the (devilishly) faithful to prayer.
Next up is a two-part, early run-through for Cherry's fascinating 1973 release, Relativity Suite. That said, the version is very formative, and bears only a passing resemblance, at times, to the finished LP. “Relativity Suite Part 1,” for example, begins with African chanting across a strange lolloping, kangarooing, percussion track over which Cherry lays down his musico-philosophical raison d’etre. Many spiritual proclamations follow concerning “the frustration of temptation,” et al. - mixed, intermittently, with Cherry’s strange bird-like vocal shrills and Buddhist om-chants. Cherry’s voice - never his main instrument - displays a beautiful timbre at times. “Relativity Suite Part 2” follows in the same vein - describing his “organic manifesto” more assertively over a deep, deep, DEEP, marimba-like bass-line:
Spiritual development by the aid of music / Who are the heroes of imagination?
A five-pointed star, a crescent moon, and a hawk!
[And so on…Could have come straight off the back off a Santana LP - No wonder Alejandro Jodorowsky immediately signed Cherry up to help with the soundtrack to The Holy Mountain (1973) - a huge meta-spiritual quest saga, partially bankrolled by the Lennon’s, and originally set to star George Harrison in the lead role of “the Thief”].
Actually, if any part of this colossal LP starts to drag it is almost certainly here, as the two parts of this ‘suite’ reach upwards of 18 minutes in total. Cherry does change tack slightly with the next offering, “Terry’s Tune,” his version of mystic American minimalist, Terry Riley’s own tune - a kind of late-Can-type repeat-athon, with some great free-jazz flute perched precariously over the top; it breaks down into a chaotic, entropic, avant-garde battle between Turkish percussionist, Okay Temiz’ fiery drums and Cherry’s trumpet conjuring - a rampant few minutes in any one’s musical book.
This leads in to one of the most beautiful pieces Cherry ever wrote - and one of his late-period, signature works: “Hope” (later recorded for Relativity Suite under the name “Desireless” with sax replacing the voice). A golden flurry of rippling piano chords (ala Alice Coltrane and, also, Magma’s own John Coltrane ode’ “Coltrane Sundia” from Kohntarkoz), and a yearning, wordless wail issues from Cherry. He sounds like he is bearing all the troubles of the world single-handedly, and, yet, is still willing to humble himself before us all. Spell-bindingly beautiful in its soul-baring simplicity, the tune develops into a steady-paced piano & vocal chant - a hymn to an earlier ‘age of the Ancients.’ 10 minutes of free-bliss - the flutes, and sun-drenched cymbal strokes, adjoining the groove to create pure musical manna from heaven.
Indeed, listening to the music of Don Cherry (and reading up about the man), he comes across as one of the most humble characters you could ever wish to meet - a true mystic, a journeyman, - one jazz critic even described him as a ‘wood nymph,’ trotting down New York streets.
[Don’s step-daughter, Neneh Cherry, tells an endearing story about her early days living with him in New York. Don would take her, and her step-brother, Eagle Eye, to ride on the subway, where he would suddenly whip out an African Wood Flute with out a moments notice, hassling both children until they joined in the impromptu improvisation! What a guy!! Believe me the world needs more people like Don Cherry].
Pharoah Sanders’ (free-)jazz-soul anthem “The Creator has a Master Plan.” is covered next by Cherry (both musicians had featured on most of the important free-jazz and ‘avant-garde’ recordings). A quick-paced piano gallop (unnervingly similar to jazz-standard: Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”), is then replaced by that well-known two-chord vamp, arriving to tell us that the creator, does indeed, have a master plan. More dancing flute and rolling drums create a loose-limbed take on the Sanders standard - as great jazzy trumpet fills in the spaces with woozy runs - very messy, but endearingly so! In fact, there is a generous and humbled pastoral quality scored right through the very core of this LP, very much in keeping with the late-sixties/early-seventies hippie-commune ethos it extols. This track finishes amongst some crazy brass flourishes and thwacked drums - until Cherry and his magical cohorts waltz off into the sunset on that ever-rolling, two-chord groove.
“Sidharta” and “Utopia and Visions” are two more pastoral-side-of-Magma-type tunes - all sun-dappled piano, and wordless chant doubled on piano/vocal - makes me wonder how much of Don Cherry's music those elder priests of zeuhl had heard prior to the Kohntarkosz sessions (given the date of this LP). This merges into another version of “Hope” (indeed, this melody must have obsessed Cherry, reappearing on a number of LP’s in different versions). This later version is more instrumental , with some marvellous Garden of Eden-style flute playing, giving a vibe that is, on a more general level, similar to the last eight minutes of Popol Vuh’s gorgeous “In den Garten Pharos.”
“Resa” finishes the LP in a slight sinister style - a huge communal vocal chant by the Swedish Youth Orchestra who, by the sound of it, have seemingly been lured into some haunted underground cavern with promises of mystical enlightenment (and session fees!!) - Cherry gathers these tribes together to ululate a resonant, but wobbly-pitched, kind of guttural chorale. Herrmann style rising/falling string-sequences accompany this unearthly groan. This track (especially the strings) also has a strange Indian or Arabic flavour to it - sounding distant - as if beaming in from another psychic plane - and is backed up by some great swing-type drumming, only for that eternally unending Terry Riley riff to reappear out of nowhere. All manner of strange vocals are now emanating from the lost corners of the mix. All the while, the woozy string sequence creates some type of strange sonic sea-sickness in the listener, who, by this time, is either travelling blissfully upon the astral plane - OR - alternatively, muttering discontentedly about “those fucking free-jazz types!!”
It’s quite a unsettling end to an amazing 80-minutes, or so, of musical mysticism. Ragged, but sublimely beautiful, endearingly simple and, at times, frustratingly complex, melding the ancient and the modern - all the essential paradoxes of the human condition are engaged at length in Don Cherry’s Organic Music Society.
Styles:
Avant-Garde
World Music
Free-Jazz
Tracks:
01 - North Brazilian Ceremonial Hymn (12:29)
02 - Elixir - Manusha Ragakamboji (08:29)
03 - Relativity Suite Part 1 (06:53)
04 - Relativity Suite Part 2 (12:01)
05 - Terry's Tune - Hope - The Creeator has a Master Plan - Sidhartha - Utopia (20:30)
06 - Bra Joe From Kilimanjaro - Terry's Tune (06:33)
07 - Resa (07:43)
Line-up:
Don Cherry - trumpet, piano, vocals, percursion, harmonium, flute, etc
Nana Vasconcelos - voice, berimbau
Moki - voice, tambura
Helen Eggert - voice, tambura
Christer Bothen - piano, guana guitar, etc
Bent Berger - drums, log drums, mridanga, tablas
Tommy Koverhult - flute
Okay Temiz -drums
Etiquetas:
Bent Berger,
Christer Bothen,
Don Cherry,
Helen Eggert,
Moki Cherry,
Nana Vasconcelos,
Okay Temiz,
Tommy Koverhult
domingo, 23 de maio de 2010
Lennie Tristano - Descent into the maelstrom (1966)
This hard-to-find LP starts off with the utterly unique title cut. On this completely atonal track (which predates Cecil Taylor by a few years), Lennie Tristano overdubbed several pianos and created picturesque and extremely intense music. The remainder of this album is mostly comprised of leftovers and rehearsal tracks which, considering Tristano's slim discography, is quite welcome. The pianist is heard solo in 1961 and 1965, in a trio with bassist Peter Ind and drummer Roy Haynes in 1952 and (in what might be his last recordings) performing a pair of originals with bassist Sonny Dallas and drummer Nick Stabulas in 1966. Tristano fans can consider this important release to be essential.
by Scott Yanow in All Music Guide
Styles:
Avant-garde
Bop
Tracks:
01 - Descent into the maelstrom (03: 24)
02 - Dream: Paris 1965 (02:58)
03 - Image: Paris 1965 (03:25)
04 - Take 1 (04:30)
05 - Take 2 (03:11)
06 - Take 3 (04:03)
07 - Stretch (06:08)
08 - Pastime (03:39)
09 - Ju-ju (02:15)
10 - Con Con (08:47)
Line-up:
Lennie Tristano - piano
Roy Haynes - drums
Peter Ind - bass
Sonny Dallas - bass
Nick Stabulas - drums
Etiquetas:
Lennie Tristano,
Nick Stabulas,
Peter Ind,
Roy Haynes,
Sonny Dallas
terça-feira, 18 de maio de 2010
Thelonious Monk - Brilliant Corners (1957)
Although Brilliant Corners is Thelonious Monk's third disc for Riverside, it's the first on the label to weigh in with such heavy original material. Enthusiasts who become jaded to the idiosyncratic nature of Monk's playing or his practically arithmetical chord progressions should occasionally revisit Brilliant Corners. There is an inescapable freshness and vitality saturated into every measure of every song. The passage of time makes it all the more difficult to imagine any other musicians bearing the capacity to support Monk with such ironic precision. The assembled quartet for the lion's share of the sessions included Max Roach (percussion), Sonny Rollins (tenor sax), Oscar Pettiford (bass), and Ernie Henry (alto sax). Although a compromise, the selection of Miles Davis' bassist, Paul Chambers, and Clark Terry (trumpet) on "Bemsha Swing" reveals what might be considered an accident of ecstasy, as they provide a timeless balance between support and being able to further the cause musically. Likewise, Roach's timpani interjections supply an off-balanced sonic surrealism while progressing the rhythm in and out of the holes provided by Monk's jackrabbit leads. It's easy to write Monk's ferocity and Forrest Gump-esque ingenuity off as gimmick or quirkiness. What cannot be dismissed is Monk's ability to translate emotions into the language of music, as in the freedom and abandon he allows through Sonny Rollins' and Max Roach's mesmerizing solos in "Brilliant Corners." The childlike innocence evoked by Monk's incorporation of the celeste during the achingly beautiful ode "Pannonica" raises the emotional bar several degrees. Perhaps more pointed, however, is the impassioned "I Surrender, Dear" -- the only solo performance on the album. Brilliant Corners may well be considered the alpha and omega of post-World War II American jazz. No serious jazz collection should be without it.
by Lindsay Planer in All Music GuideStyles:
Hard Bop
Bop
Tracks:
01 - Brilliant Corners (7:42)
02 - Ba-lue Bolivar Ba-lues-are (13:24)
03 - Pannonica (8:50)
04 - I Surrender Dear (5:25)
05 - Bemsha Swing (7:42)
Line-up:
Thelonious Monk - piano; celeste
Ernie Henry - alto saxophone
Sonny Rollins - tenor saxophone
Oscar Pettiford - double bass
Max Roach - drums; timpani
Clark Terry - trumpet
Paul Chambers - double bass
Etiquetas:
Clark Terry,
Ernie Henry,
Max Roach,
Oscar Pettiford,
Paul Chambers,
Sonny Rollins,
Thelenious Monk
sexta-feira, 14 de maio de 2010
Miles Davis Quintet - Live in Milan (1964)
Tracks:
01 - Autumn Leaves
02 - My Funny Valentine
03 - All Blue
04 - All of You
05 - Joshua - into - The Theme
Line-up:
Miles Davis - trumpet
Wayne Shorter - tenor sax
Herbie Hancock - piano
Ron Carter - bass
Tony Williams - drums
Etiquetas:
Herbie Hancock,
Miles Davis,
Ron Carter,
Tony Williams,
Wayne Shorter
quarta-feira, 12 de maio de 2010
Cecil Taylor - Unit Structures (1966)
After several years off records, pianist Cecil Taylor finally had an opportunity to document his music of the mid-'60s on two Blue Note albums (the other one was Conquistador). Taylor's high-energy atonalism fit in well with the free jazz of the period but he was actually leading the way rather than being part of a movement. In fact, this septet outing with trumpeter Eddie Gale, altoist Jimmy Lyons, Ken McIntyre (alternating between alto, oboe and bass clarinet), both Henry Grimes and Alan Silva on basses, and drummer Andrew Cyrille is quite stunning and very intense. In fact, it could be safely argued that no jazz music of the era approached the ferocity and intensity of Cecil Taylor's.
by Scott Yanow in All Music GuideStyles:
Free-Jazz
Avant-Garde
Tracks:
01 - Steps (10:20)
02 - Enter, Evening (Soft Line Structure) (11:06)
03 - Enter, Evening (Alternate Take) (10:11)
04 - Unit Structure/As of a Now/Section (17:47)
05 - Tales (8 Whisps) (07:14)
Line-up:
Cecil Taylor – piano, bells
Eddie Gale Stevens, Jr. – trumpet
Jimmy Lyons – alto sax
Ken McIntyre – alto sax, oboe, bass clarinet
Henry Grimes – bass
Alan Silva – bass
Andrew Cyrille – drums
terça-feira, 11 de maio de 2010
Alice Coltrane - Universal Consciousness (1971)
Recorded between April and June of 1971, Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness stands as her classic work. As a testament to the articulation of her spiritual principles, Universal Consciousness stands even above World Galaxy as a recording where the medium of music, both composed and improvised, perfectly united the realms of body (in performance), speech (in the utterance of individual instrumentalists and group interplay), and mind (absolute focus) for the listener to take into her or his own experience. While many regard Universal Consciousness as a "jazz" album, it transcends even free jazz by its reliance on deeply thematic harmonic material and the closely controlled sonic dynamics in its richly hued chromatic palette. The set opens with the title track, where strings engage large washes of Coltrane's harp as Jack DeJohnette's drums careen in a spirit dance around the outer edge of the maelstrom. On first listen, the string section and the harp are in counter-dictum, moving against each other in a modal cascade of sounds, but this soon proves erroneous as Coltrane's harp actually embellishes the timbral glissandos pouring forth. Likewise, Jimmy Garrison's bass seeks to ground the proceedings to DeJohnette's singing rhythms, and finally Coltrane moves the entire engagement to another dimension with her organ. Leroy Jenkins' violin and Garrison's bottom two strings entwine one another in Ornette Coleman's transcription as Coltrane and the other strings offer a middling bridge for exploration. It's breathtaking. On "Battle at Armageddon," the violence depicted is internal; contrapuntal rhythmic impulses whirl around each other as Coltrane's organ and harp go head to head with Rashied Ali's drums. "Oh Allah" rounds out side one with a gorgeously droning, awe-inspiring modal approach to whole-tone music that enfolds itself into the lines of organic polyphony as the strings color each present theme intervalically. DeJohnette's brushwork lisps the edges and Garrison's bass underscores each chord and key change in Coltrane's constant flow of thought.
On side two, "Hare Krishna" is a chant-like piece that is birthed from minor-key ascendancy with a loping string figure transcribed by Coleman from Coltrane's composition on the organ. She lays deep in the cut, offering large shimmering chords that twirl -- eventually -- around high-register ostinatos and pedal work. It's easily the most beautiful and accessible track in the set, in that it sings with a devotion that has at its base the full complement of Coltrane's compositional palette. "Sita Ram" is a piece that echoes "Hare Krishna" in that it employs Garrison and drummer Clifford Jarvis, but replaces the strings with a tamboura player. Everything here moves very slowly, harp and organ drift into and out of one another like breath, and the rhythm section -- informed by the tamboura's drone -- lilts on Coltrane's every line. As the single-fingered lines engage the rhythm section more fully toward the end of the tune, it feels like a soloist improvising over a chanting choir. Finally, the album ends with another duet between Ali and Coltrane. Ali uses wind chimes as well as his trap kit, and what transpires between the two is an organically erected modal architecture, where texture and timbre offer the faces of varying intervals: Dynamic, improvisational logic and tonal exploration become elemental figures in an intimate yet universal conversation that has the search itself and the uncertain nature of arrival, either musically or spiritually, at its root. This ambiguity is the only way a recording like this could possibly end, with spiritual questioning and yearning in such a musically sophisticated and unpretentious way. The answers to those questions can perhaps be found in the heart of the music itself, but more than likely they can, just as they are articulated here, only be found in the recesses of the human heart. This is art of the highest order, conceived by a brilliant mind, poetically presented in exquisite collaboration by divinely inspired musicians and humbly offered as a gift to listeners. It is a true masterpiece. The CD reissue by Universal comes with a handsome Japanese-style five-by-five-inch paper sleeve with liner notes reprinted inside and devastatingly gorgeous 24-bit remastering.
by Thom Jurek in All Music GuideOn side two, "Hare Krishna" is a chant-like piece that is birthed from minor-key ascendancy with a loping string figure transcribed by Coleman from Coltrane's composition on the organ. She lays deep in the cut, offering large shimmering chords that twirl -- eventually -- around high-register ostinatos and pedal work. It's easily the most beautiful and accessible track in the set, in that it sings with a devotion that has at its base the full complement of Coltrane's compositional palette. "Sita Ram" is a piece that echoes "Hare Krishna" in that it employs Garrison and drummer Clifford Jarvis, but replaces the strings with a tamboura player. Everything here moves very slowly, harp and organ drift into and out of one another like breath, and the rhythm section -- informed by the tamboura's drone -- lilts on Coltrane's every line. As the single-fingered lines engage the rhythm section more fully toward the end of the tune, it feels like a soloist improvising over a chanting choir. Finally, the album ends with another duet between Ali and Coltrane. Ali uses wind chimes as well as his trap kit, and what transpires between the two is an organically erected modal architecture, where texture and timbre offer the faces of varying intervals: Dynamic, improvisational logic and tonal exploration become elemental figures in an intimate yet universal conversation that has the search itself and the uncertain nature of arrival, either musically or spiritually, at its root. This ambiguity is the only way a recording like this could possibly end, with spiritual questioning and yearning in such a musically sophisticated and unpretentious way. The answers to those questions can perhaps be found in the heart of the music itself, but more than likely they can, just as they are articulated here, only be found in the recesses of the human heart. This is art of the highest order, conceived by a brilliant mind, poetically presented in exquisite collaboration by divinely inspired musicians and humbly offered as a gift to listeners. It is a true masterpiece. The CD reissue by Universal comes with a handsome Japanese-style five-by-five-inch paper sleeve with liner notes reprinted inside and devastatingly gorgeous 24-bit remastering.
Styles:
Free-Jazz
Progressive Jazz
World Music
Tracks:
01 - Universal Consciousness (05:06)
02 - Battle at Armageddon (07:20)
03 - Oh Allah (05:01)
04 - Hare Krishna (08:14)
05 - Sita Ram (04:47)
06 - The Ankh of Amen-Ra (06:09)
Line-up:
Alice Coltrane - arranger, harp, organ
Jimmy Garrison - bass
Rashied Ali - drums, percurssion
John Blair - violin
Leroy Jenkins - violin
Julius Brand - violin
Tulsi - tambura
Clifford Jarvis - drums, percurssion
Jack DeJohnette - drums
Etiquetas:
Alice Coltrane,
Clifford Javis,
Jack DeJohnette,
Jimmy Garrison,
John Blair,
Julius Brand,
Leroy Jenkins,
Rashied Ali,
Tulsi
domingo, 9 de maio de 2010
Don Cherry - Orient (1971)
Don Cherry, who passed away in 1995 at age 59, was a world musician long before the term became fashionable. Two recent early '70s reissues - Orient and Blue Lake (both previously Japan-only releases), help to solidify Cherry as not only one of the greatest (pocket) trumpeters/cornetists that jazz has known, but also one of its most well-rounded musicians.
His global approach and experimentations on Orient (1971), two live dates with separate trios, is supplemented through one half by Dutch percussionist Han Bennink and East Indian tamboura accompaniment. Bennink keeps things constantly moving as Cherry's nomadic musical-self transitions between pocket trumpet, flutes, piano and chanting on the first and last tracks ("Orient" and "Si Ta Ra Ma"). The title piece gets underway with tom-tom drum crescendos spilling over Cherry's Alice Coltrane-like arpeggio runs on piano and humming chants, before segueing dramatically into the leader's frenetic brass playing and Bennink's polyrhythmic percussive displays. After a few minutes the pace changes again with more wooden sounding drums—as well as gongs, bells, chimes, and "small" instruments (as memorably utilized by the Art Ensemble of Chicago).
The other half of Orient features the legendary South African bassist Johnny Dyani and percussionist Okay Temiz. Dyani's plucked and arco bass opening to the first movement of "Eagle Eye"—accompanied by a wistful clay flute, wind-like chimes, and sensitive drum tapping—resonates with the magic that often inspires bassist William Parker these days. The second allegro movement is much more rhythmic and borders on an outpouring of emotion. The third movement then settles the rhythm into gear with a meditative and melodic humming chant offered to the crowd by Cherry. Both trios feature masterful improvisational interplay by what would seem greater than a mere threesome; the experience is captured exquisitely.
The ever-evolving Cherry was a true music master whose example was an anomaly for record labels and music stores. It can never be stressed enough that Cherry, to borrow Ellington's catch phrase, was most definitely "beyond category," making the world a much smaller place.
by Laurence Donohue-Greene in All About JazzHis global approach and experimentations on Orient (1971), two live dates with separate trios, is supplemented through one half by Dutch percussionist Han Bennink and East Indian tamboura accompaniment. Bennink keeps things constantly moving as Cherry's nomadic musical-self transitions between pocket trumpet, flutes, piano and chanting on the first and last tracks ("Orient" and "Si Ta Ra Ma"). The title piece gets underway with tom-tom drum crescendos spilling over Cherry's Alice Coltrane-like arpeggio runs on piano and humming chants, before segueing dramatically into the leader's frenetic brass playing and Bennink's polyrhythmic percussive displays. After a few minutes the pace changes again with more wooden sounding drums—as well as gongs, bells, chimes, and "small" instruments (as memorably utilized by the Art Ensemble of Chicago).
The other half of Orient features the legendary South African bassist Johnny Dyani and percussionist Okay Temiz. Dyani's plucked and arco bass opening to the first movement of "Eagle Eye"—accompanied by a wistful clay flute, wind-like chimes, and sensitive drum tapping—resonates with the magic that often inspires bassist William Parker these days. The second allegro movement is much more rhythmic and borders on an outpouring of emotion. The third movement then settles the rhythm into gear with a meditative and melodic humming chant offered to the crowd by Cherry. Both trios feature masterful improvisational interplay by what would seem greater than a mere threesome; the experience is captured exquisitely.
The ever-evolving Cherry was a true music master whose example was an anomaly for record labels and music stores. It can never be stressed enough that Cherry, to borrow Ellington's catch phrase, was most definitely "beyond category," making the world a much smaller place.
Styles:
Progressive Jazz
World Music
Avant-Garde
Free-Jazz
Tracks:
01 - Orient (25:10)
02 - Si Ta Ra Ma (19:16)
03 - Eagle Eye (12:10)
04 - Togetherness (11:41)
Line-up:
Don Cherry - trumpet, vocals, flute, pocket trumpet, piano
Ed Blackwell - vocals, flute, piano
Moki Cherry - tamboura
Johnny Dyani - bass guitar
Han Bennink - accordion, drums, percussion
Okay Temiz - drums
Etiquetas:
Don Cherry,
Ed Blackwell,
Han Bennink,
Johnny Dyani,
Moki Cherry,
Okay Temiz
sábado, 8 de maio de 2010
Pharoah Sanders - Elevation (1974)
Elevation, Pharoah Sanders' final album for Impulse!, is a mixed bag. Four of the five cuts were recorded live at the Ash Grove in Los Angeles in September of 1973, and the lone studio track, "Greeting to Saud (Brother McCoy Tyner)," was recorded in the same month at Wally Heider's studio. The live date is fairly cohesive, with beautiful modal piano work from Joe Bonner, Pharoah playing tenor and soprano as well as a myriad of percussion instruments and vocalizing in places, and a percussion and rhythm section that included Michael Carvin on drums, bassist Calvin Hill, and hand drummers John Blue and Lawrence Killian. The standout on the set is the opener. At 18 minutes, it's the longest thing here and gives the band a chance to stretch into African and Latin terrains. Sanders' long, loping, suspended lines create a kind of melodic head that is underscored by Bonner's hypnotically repetitive piano work, playing the same chord progression over and over again as he begins his solos (one on each horn). Somewhere near the five-minute mark, Pharoah enters into a primal wail and the whole thing becomes unhinged, moving into a deep blowing session of free improv. Honks, squeals, wails, and Bonner pounding the hell out of the piano erase any trace of what came before, and this goes on for four minutes before the theme restates itself and once more the magic begins. It's utterly compelling and engaging. "Saud" finds a host of percussionists (including Sanders) along with Hill on tamboura, Bonner, and violinist Michael White. It's a subtle and droning work, full of a constant hum. The other long track, "The Gathering," clocks in at almost 14 minutes, but instead of being a somber nocturnal work it's a lively South African-inspired work that nods to Dollar Brand for inspiration. A gorgeous, nearly carnival piece, it rolls and chugs and runs along on the steam created by Bonner's beautiful chord work. The chorus of vocals chanting in the foreground and background adds to the party feel, but once again it choogles right off the track into some rather angry and then spooky free improv, with a fine solo by Hill. This may not rate as highly as some of Sanders' other recordings for the label like Thembi or Karma, but there is plenty here for fans, and it is well worth the investigation and the purchase.
by Thom Jurek in All Music Guide
Styles:
Progressive Jazz
Modal
Post-Bop
Tracks:
01 - Elevation (18:01)
02 - Greetings to Saud (Brother McCoy Tyner) (04:07)
03 - Ore-Se-Rere (05:36)
04 - The Gathering (13:51)
05 - Spiritual Blessing (05:41)
Line-up:
Pharoah Sanders - tenor saxophone, soprano saxophone, vocals, percursion
Joe Bonner - piano, cow horn, wood flute, vocals, harmonium, percursion
Calvin Hill - bass, tamboura, vocals, percursion
Michael Carvin - drums, vocals, percursion
Lawrence Killian - congas, bell tree, vocals, percursion
Jimmy Hopps - percursion, vocals,
John Blue - percursion, vocals
by Thom Jurek in All Music Guide
Styles:
Progressive Jazz
Modal
Post-Bop
Tracks:
01 - Elevation (18:01)
02 - Greetings to Saud (Brother McCoy Tyner) (04:07)
03 - Ore-Se-Rere (05:36)
04 - The Gathering (13:51)
05 - Spiritual Blessing (05:41)
Line-up:
Pharoah Sanders - tenor saxophone, soprano saxophone, vocals, percursion
Joe Bonner - piano, cow horn, wood flute, vocals, harmonium, percursion
Calvin Hill - bass, tamboura, vocals, percursion
Michael Carvin - drums, vocals, percursion
Lawrence Killian - congas, bell tree, vocals, percursion
Jimmy Hopps - percursion, vocals,
John Blue - percursion, vocals
Etiquetas:
Calvin Hill,
Jimmy Hopps,
Joe Bonner,
John Blue,
Lawrence Killian,
Michael Carvin,
Pharoah Sanders
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