Make a Jazz Noise Here

[Leo K.]

Today's listening includes The Modern Jazz Quartet, the amazing Lonely Women LP. Love the restrained beautiful sound this group makes.

Having sponsored Ornette Coleman at the School of Jazz near Lennox, MA, pianist and composer John Lewis helped launch the controversial career of one of the last great innovators in jazz. Lewis' support of the ragtag Texas native was somewhat unique in jazz circles at the time and even surprising, especially considering the gulf between the classical jazz formality of his group the Modern Jazz Quartet and Coleman's radical notions of free improvisation. Nevertheless, Lewis not only saw in Coleman the first jazz genius since bebop's Parker, Gillespie, and Monk, but put pay to the praise with the MJQ's 1962 rendition of one of Coleman's most famous numbers, "Lonely Woman." (Along with Art Pepper's 1960 version of "Tears Inside," this was one of the earliest of Coleman covers done.) The 1962 Atlantic album of the same name turns out to be one of the band's best efforts. Lewis and fellow MJQ members Milt Jackson, Percy Heath, and Connie Kaye capitalize on the dramatic theme of "Lonely Woman" while adding a bit of chamber music complexity to the mix. The quartet doesn't take Coleman's free form harmolodic theory to heart with a round of quixotic solos, but the group does spotlight the often overlooked strength of his compositional ideas. And while the MJQ further plies its knack for involved pieces on Lewis originals like "Fugato" and "Trieste," the group also balances out the set with looser material more in tune with Jackson's blues and swing sensibilities. A great disc that's perfect for the curious jazz lover.

[Leo K.]

This set is my top Jazz retrospective, Bix Beiderbecke being my absolute favortite intrumentalist. I can't stop listening to it once I hear one song, to describe the experience of this music is like trying to describe the taste of water. It is perfect music for winter!

[Karl Henning]

The Blind Boys of Alabama, "Last Month of the Year"
Miles Davis & Jn Coltrane, "Two Bass Hit"
Charles Mingus, "Boogie Stop Shuffle"
Count Basie, "Flight of the Foo Birds"

[Leo K.]

I'm listening to cornetist Jimmy McPartland during his stint with The Wolverines. Jimmy (at age 17!) replaced Bix Beiderbecke as leader of the Wolverines in 1924.



The above release has the complete Wolverines recordings and is such a wonderful disk. The transfers are excellant in every way. You get Bix and Jimmy plus the marvelous sounds of this great band!

[Karl Henning]

Love Eric Dolphy's work, and I don't care who knows it.

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[Leo K.]

Love Eric Dolphy's work, and I don't care who knows it.

[asin]B0025X4OZC[/asin]

Me too. I'm in awe of his work. Because of him, the bass clarinet is my favorite instrument.

[Leo K.]

The album has predecessors such as, but certainly not limited to, Kind of Blue. Nelson's solo in "Stolen Moments" is a microcosm of this line of reasoning. He opens over the C minor with a question, an ascending series of fourths: G-C-F twice, then C-F-Bb. Quartile lines and harmonies similarities in mood and sound are based in part on that two-thirds of common rhythm section. And Chambers may be what makes these blues the Blues... the blues is not an imitator, it's family. The two albums share two players: the "So What?" kickoff duo of bassist Paul Chambers and pianist Bill Evans. One big influence for tenor players was John Coltrane and it was an influence that I could not deny. There is not only a depth of feeling or flair of technique to this album's blues, but an openness of sound and intellectual rigor. Superficially the studied approach could be considered the antithesis of blues—the old "rock 'n' roll is from the crotch, not the a purported blues album, Evans isn't an obvious choice. But neither are any of the melodic players obvious choices, when you get down to it.

From Nelson the composer-arranger to Hubbard the hard-bop technician to Dolphy the sometimes third-stream experimentalist, the melody instrumentalists bring something non-blues to these blues. His figures anyone on any instrument might play. By the turnaround—itself hardly typical of blues with its half-step modulation—he has gone away from resolution and into asking additional questions. In the second chorus he introduces phrases and lines, repeating them at different note values, faster now, insisting "is this it?" The third chorus isn't blues, it is (as was becoming common for Coltrane by this time and throughout his life after) prayer. Finally, some eight minutes in, Coltrane moves to the blues. He walks constantly, confidently, always in the pocket and always on pitch. He's more nimble than he shows, the classic and classy bassist throughout the album. Nelson said himself, in the original album's liner notes: "[W]hen I arrived on the New York scene in March 1959, I believed I had taking some pop band with two-part vocal harmony and a major-to-minor chord shift in the bridge and saying it's *******que."

As Nelson opens "Cascades," it would seem nearly as unrelated to Kind of Blue as the country of song that precedes it, "Hoe-Down." But at the second iteration of the exercise—and it began an exercise, not a song—the other horns harmonize along what could be a vamp. Think of "All Blues" here. And that's it. Even the echo of the recording lends to the similar mood, horn on the right, reverb on the left. But this is not a Coltrane solo, or even an imitation. Think of "All Blues." 'Trane begins on solid ground, with the same type of blues to mind a Davis group, it may be that of Birth of the Cool, especially in the head of "Stolen over minor blues are nothing out of the ordinary, but both the shape of Nelson's initial lines and his tone—spittle rattling, the booming of the bass tone introducing a more strident, full (if rough) sound—owe more than a little to Coltrane.

A listener could spread the title of the album across the songs, meaning that resolve ... but ends with another ascending figure. It is followed by space. Nothing is settled when Evans begins his solo. On the contrary, Nelson knows the answer to his question. More architect than prophet, he comping in spots with surprisingly jagged stabs. It's not conjecture to say that Nelson is following Coltrane. It's not me A minute and a half into the song, though, Dolphy just explodes. Gone are any recollections of the soft Haynes-and-Chambers introduction, or even the angularity of the melody. This is a reckless flurry, or even a burst of reckless series, squeaks and squawks unapologetically aside sound effects and Camptown races sing the song, what? Are you serious?

It's a traditional Nelson solo next, and Haynes constructs his solos much as his band-member Evans, or this album both takes up the challenge of Kind of Blue, full of subtleties, questions, nuance, and does something altogether different. It's not just Nelson fleshing out his solos, satisfying the tonal ear. It's not just his lead line in "Cascades." The ensemble playing is tighter than was that of Davis's group two years earlier. If it calls is in his element. The solo begins from comping, then hunting and pecking a la Monk. But the runs are too fluid, too long, and nobody loses an eye. It isn't long before Evans resembles Cecil Taylor, if anyone. The phrases get longer, the minor seconds intentionally incorporated as blue mistakes in the midst of multi-octave sprints. Moments. If that isn't cool jazz, there is no such thing.

Now the album "Stolen Moments" opens with the blues and "Teenie's Blues" closes with the abstract. Not that the latter is entirely abstract by modern sensibilities—or even "modern sensibilities" as they were understood by 1961—but its melody certainly breaks the commonly performed confines of the blues. Its large, awkward leaps are nerve-wracking as they traverse a basic blues progression of dominant chords. mind having investigated and answered Coltrane's two-year-old question. It's a group of unexpected rolls and occasional off-beat or polyrhythmic snare that hits behind Dolphy's journey through outer space. The strong two-and-four hat is firmly in place as Nelson takes over. Now Haynes leads the beats and lends the accents, but he has brought it all back home. Has he given up? Is it really so easy? As Nelson begins repeating a figure some three minutes and change in, he modulates. Up. Up. Up.

Drummer Haynes isn't following, he's daring Nelson to keep going. The half note triplets are a challenge, the roll a hysterical compliment. It's shout-chorus time now, and Nelson plays it to the hilt with weeps, bends, and whines as he closes it out. Here, as was Dolphy, Evans the questions than the answers—especially when considering the ever introspective Davis and the by-then-searching—even questing—saxophonist John Coltrane. If there aren't answers within Kind of Blue, though, there may be an answer to it: Oliver Nelson's 1961 classic The Blues and the Abstract Truth. Why link Nelson's album to Davis'? Because it feels like a cousin or a nephew, for one. (Of course, every time Davis shat, he fertilized a new subgenre, with the epically famous Kind of Blue and its modal blues no exception).

Late in his solo in "Stolen Moments'", Nelson introduces a series of figures, triads and quartets, descending over the chords. Nelson has resolved things by the time Evans makes his entrance this time. The solo is finished, the question is answered. Here is a composer's solo, the analytical The most intriguing familial link is from an outsider. Perhaps Nelson married into the family, but one can understand both his intellectual vigor and his artistic sensibility throughout this album when considered in context of 'Trane. Not every song gives a "So What" opportunity, and Chambers takes what's there. What's there is quarter-note thumping throughout most of the album" "Butch and Butch," for example, or "Hoe-Down." Chambers holds together the whole of the blues through otherwise country, dance, and near-experimental moments. Together again with Chambers on the back line (along with Roy Haynes filling out the rhythm section on drums) is Evans. In a certain sense, the landmark 1959 Miles Davis album Kind of Blue doesn't go anywhere.

[Karl Henning]

Why did you trim that post, Leo? I for one really appreciated it.

[Mirror Image]

The album has predecessors such as, but certainly not limited to, Kind of Blue. Nelson's solo in "Stolen Moments" is a microcosm of this line of reasoning. He opens over the C minor with a question, an ascending series of fourths: G-C-F twice, then C-F-Bb. Quartile lines and harmonies similarities in mood and sound are based in part on that two-thirds of common rhythm section. And Chambers may be what makes these blues the Blues... the blues is not an imitator, it's family. The two albums share two players: the "So What?" kickoff duo of bassist Paul Chambers and pianist Bill Evans. One big influence for tenor players was John Coltrane and it was an influence that I could not deny. There is not only a depth of feeling or flair of technique to this album's blues, but an openness of sound and intellectual rigor. Superficially the studied approach could be considered the antithesis of blues—the old "rock 'n' roll is from the crotch, not the a purported blues album, Evans isn't an obvious choice. But neither are any of the melodic players obvious choices, when you get down to it.

From Nelson the composer-arranger to Hubbard the hard-bop technician to Dolphy the sometimes third-stream experimentalist, the melody instrumentalists bring something non-blues to these blues.

That particular album's strength lies, not so much in who the players are and how they sound, but rather how each of them are on the same page and know when and where to stop playing. Jazz is an improvised art. The tune, in which these improvisations occur, only act as a skeletal outline, but there's nothing worse than a soloist who hogs the spotlight. Thankfully with The Blues and the Abstract Truth this is an ego-free, genuine group of improvisers who wound up really making a connection with each other and the music.

[Octave]

I love vintage Bennie Moten.  Tough, tough swing.

[asin]B00003IE40[/asin][asin]B00003IE41[/asin]
Bennie Moten's Kansas City Orchestra, Volumes 1 & 2 (Frog UK)

Been thinking of getting this 2cd collection as well, though the expense is offputting:

Bennie Moten: BAND BOX SHUFFLE (Hep, 2cd)

I think all three of these Bennie Motens were reissued by the late, great John R.T. Davies; my own discs of the first two are momentarily boxed up, and my memory is blasted by the nonstop music.  Davies everyone here knows well, I'm guessing; I'm wonderinf if anything he touched in his career as a restoration/transfer engineer was not rendered more beautiful because of his attention.  That JSP Jelly Roll Morton box is certainly a desert island disc for me, among any kind of music.

Also been really enjoying this, speaking of really nice cleanings of old music; plus, of course, it is the jam:


King Oliver: OFF THE RECORD - THE COMPLETE 1923 JAZZ BAND RECORDINGS (Off the Record, 2cd)

I can see myself getting a lot more into pre-WW2 jazz, ragtime, hokum, string bands, and sundry other "old timey" (sic?) musics this year.

[Leo K.]

Why did you trim that post, Leo? I for one really appreciated it.

Thanks very much Karl, I just didn't feel the rest was finished yet

[Leo K.]

That particular album's strength lies, not so much in who the players are and how they sound, but rather how each of them are on the same page and know when and where to stop playing. Jazz is an improvised art. The tune, in which these improvisations occur, only act as a skeletal outline, but there's nothing worse than a soloist who hogs the spotlight. Thankfully with The Blues and the Abstract Truth this is an ego-free, genuine group of improvisers who wound up really making a connection with each other and the music.

I definitely agree with you on your points , thanks so much for your response! Jazz is indeed all you say, space itself is a key to this art.

[Mirror Image]

I definitely agree with you on your points , thanks so much for your response! Jazz is indeed all you say, space itself is a key to this art.

You're welcome, Leo. Jazz was one of my first musical loves.

[Octave]

I am cheating, because I have not purchased this yet; but I loved every one of these records years ago when I was more the jazz fan.  Lots of classic AACM music is still interesting to me, though when I visited Chicago for their 30th Anniversary concerts in 1995 as a very young jazzbo, I found the local scene totally depressing, almost as though it were piggybacking off the really talented pathbreakers who had, almost without fail, left Chicago.  That's too bad, as it seems like an exciting city to visit.


Muhal Richard Abrams: THE COMPLETE REMASTERED RECORDINGS ON BLACK SAINT & SOUL NOTE

I like some of the other boxes in this series as well, like the David Murray Octet, World Saxophone Quartet, a recent Dave Douglas set, a great Bill Dixon set....that doesn't even exhaust the ones that still look interesting to me.

[Leo K.]

Been listening to the above lately, one of the best volumes in the "Bix Restored" series, and still available on amazon. The first three tracks feature newly discovered 78s of Bix Beiderbecke, the rest of the album features cornet players, singers, etc., who are inspired by or play in the style of Bix, sometimes taking his style in beautiful stunning directions that transcend imitation.

In what sense is Bix an enigma? Obviously not in terms of objective facts about his life. It clearly has to do with his personality, habits, and the interpretation of the available documented facts. and quotes from musicians who knew him are included in what I call the Bixophile Bible, "Bix: The Leon Bix Beiderbecke Story" by Philip and Linda Evans. In the face of such immense amount of information, in what where he was and what he was doing practically every day of his short life. His complete recording output, including alternates and bits of sound in lead-in and lead-out grooves, is available on CDs. Letters to his parents Bix Beiderbecke is, thanks to the indefatigable researcher Phil Evans, the most thoroughly documented jazz musician. I doubt that there is any musician from the 1920s whose chronology is better known than that of Bix.

Moreover, in writing about knowing "the complex machinery that drives a human being" the scope of the "Bix enigma" becomes much more than simply explaining contradictions and puzzling aspects of Bix's life: it becomes a full-fledged analysis of what made Bix the person that he was. This is a much more ambitious project than what is really possible: Bix did not give extensive interviews; he did not write about his ambitions; the people who knew him, when interviewed, were not asked questions designed to elucidate Bix's personality and aspirations however scrupulous their attention to accuracy, begin to read like fiction, a plot worked out by some Faulknerian novelist. At its center is the gifted but ultimately flawed golden boy, driven to his own destruction by – what? The pressures of an uncomprehending society? The conflict between "art" and the market place? Or was it dark, nameless forces within him? Some tragic secret locked away in his past?" In asking the questions, Sudhalter (in "Lost Chords") is, of course, assuming that Bix had "conflicts," was "flawed," and was "driven to his own destruction" by external or internal fascination covers more than contradictions and unexplained aspects of Bix's life: it amounts to a desire to know every facet of Bix's life and personality. Sudhalter articulates this clearly, "Somehow, when the verbiage falls away, we know this quiet deferential young man as little as we did before the documentation began. The reality of him – motivations, perceptions, conflicts, the complex machinery that drives a human being this way or that- remains just beyond camera range, tantalizingly out of focus. There is a point at which all accounts of his life, This implies, of course, that historians/fans are intent on explaining the apparent contradictions and the ambiguities. This is the crux of the matter. If one is satisfied (as I am) with the firmly documented factual information and, in particular, with having his music available (which, in fact, is the essence of Bix), then there is no puzzle, no enigma. The enigma is created by those who want to have (psychological) explanations of Bix's personality traits and habits.

As more and more information about Bix is gathered, more and more detailed inquiries about what is known become possible. Another important factor contributing to the Bix enigma is the phenomenon of "Bixing." This was coined by Malcolm Shaw. 'Bixing' is legends and myths presented as facts, speculations about Bix's motivations and aspirations, etc. It is likely that Bix's alcohol addition, his inability to control it, and his early death are key governing factors that drove many to attempt to unseal the so-called "Bix enigma." We have a lot of substantial amount of data about Bix has been gathered, mostly by Phil Evans, and it is unlikely that new, significant information will come to light. If we are intent in "explaining" what we might call the "Bix phenomenon," we must analyze all that is available -hard facts, lies, myths, and opinions.

There is no question that Louis Armstrong's influence and impact on the jazz genre as a whole was more important and long-lasting than Bix's. However, in the 1920s, it seems to me that every white trumpet or cornet player wanted to emulate Bix. The list is very long: Andy Secrest, hired especially to take Bix's place when Bix could not play; Red Nichols, Sylvester Ahola, Chelsea Quealey, Harry Goldfield, Max Goldberg; all the trumpet players in the "It Sounds Like Bix" and "With A Bow to Bix" albums, William Teninger, Tom Howell, Leo McConville, Manny Klein, Leroy Morris, Bob Mahew, Philippe Brun, Norman Payne, unidentified trumpet players with the Biltmore Hotel Orchestra, Roy Carroll and his Sands Point Orchestra, Andrew Aiona Novelty Four, The Rollickers, Ed Blossom and His Englanders, The Ipana Troubadours. You can listen to almost any 1927-1930 hot dance band and here and there there will be a phrase, a solo, just a few notes that show clearly the enormous influence that Bix exerted on his contemporaneous fellow musicians and their desire to sound like him.

Just some random thoughts, out loud.

[Octave]

Leo K, I appreciate these and other thoughts on Bix; very interesting, and now I wish I had $$$ set aside for further research.  (I think all I know is the BIX AND TRAM 4cd from JSP.)
BTW, your image/ASIN link did not seem to work, when I tried it.

This past week, I enjoyed two records from a great moment in Charles Mingus' (arguably) greatest period.  Both of these are highly recommended, but the ANTIBES '60 is beyond recommended.  Caveat: you probably need some tolerance of the wild/wooly to enjoy it.  It's not free-jazz, but it might be "free gospel".

Does anyone happen to know if ANTIBES '60 was ever repackaged, uncut, as part of a box set or other retrospective?  I have trouble keeping track of the discographical business...it irritates me.

Seems like Mosaic also issued a really promising box of the "workshops" groups in 2012. 

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[Leo K.]

I love vintage Bennie Moten.  Tough, tough swing.

[asin]B00003IE40[/asin][asin]B00003IE41[/asin]
Bennie Moten's Kansas City Orchestra, Volumes 1 & 2 (Frog UK)

Been thinking of getting this 2cd collection as well, though the expense is offputting:

Bennie Moten: BAND BOX SHUFFLE (Hep, 2cd)

I think all three of these Bennie Motens were reissued by the late, great John R.T. Davies; my own discs of the first two are momentarily boxed up, and my memory is blasted by the nonstop music.  Davies everyone here knows well, I'm guessing; I'm wonderinf if anything he touched in his career as a restoration/transfer engineer was not rendered more beautiful because of his attention.  That JSP Jelly Roll Morton box is certainly a desert island disc for me, among any kind of music.

Also been really enjoying this, speaking of really nice cleanings of old music; plus, of course, it is the jam:


King Oliver: OFF THE RECORD - THE COMPLETE 1923 JAZZ BAND RECORDINGS (Off the Record, 2cd)

I can see myself getting a lot more into pre-WW2 jazz, ragtime, hokum, string bands, and sundry other "old timey" (sic?) musics this year.

Octave, I'm glad you brought up Bennie Moten and King Oliver, two of which I'm getting into seriously. The sides I got are on the Chronological Classics series, sadly a lot of those are out of print. But the collections you site look really good. I am a big fan of John R.T. Davies myself, I have my eye on those Bennie Motens!

[Leo K.]

Leo K, I appreciate these and other thoughts on Bix; very interesting, and now I wish I had $$$ set aside for further research.  (I think all I know is the BIX AND TRAM 4cd from JSP.)
BTW, your image/ASIN link did not seem to work, when I tried it.

Thanks, and thanks for the heads up about the image, I just edited it.

It takes so much time and money to gather a decent collection and knowledge, I have to keep remembering that myself, so I don't go over-the-top-completest (my wife would appreciate that!) 

I don't have the Bix and Tram 4cd set you mention, but I'm sure it's a fine release. Another great affordable start are these fine disks, and I like the sound of these too:

[Leo K.]

I recently got this as an amazon mp3 download. I had three reasons for shelling out my dimes for this thing. First, is the bass saxophone of the amazing Adrian Rollini, which has to be heard to be believed, truly delicate melodic lines with careful but singing phrases that melt the ear. The man can swing on this bass saxophone.

The second reason is cornet player Chelsea Quealey. I think Chelsea Quealey was one of the very good emulators of Bix Beiderbecke and he was an excellent technician. He did not have the harmonic genius for invention that Bix had, but his tone, sound and improvisations (perhaps worked out ahead of time) were of great quality and beauty.

Third, I'm falling in love with '20s and '30s british jazz!

[Leo K.]

The Rhythmic Eight
2CD set RTR79059

My reason for buying this is to hear the artistry of cornetest Sylvester Ahola. Ahola sounds both "hot and cool," and clearly a much undervalued player of the Bix Era. Ahola was in England from late December 1927 until September 1931.

"My trumpet playing on those Rhythmic Eight Records is "pitched" between the styles of Bix Beiderbecke and Red Nichols, and is adapted for a schooled type of trumpet player, just as I was. I wanted that pure tone and nice vibrato, and I always preferred that sound." --Sylvester Ahola

The Rhythmic Eight's output continued unchanged in terms of quantity into the early 1930s but diminished considerably in terms of quality after the end of the 1920s. This was not helped by the UK's Ministry of Labour, who in early 1930 banned Sylvester Ahola from fulfilling any further lucrative freelance work, after receiving group, the Rhythmic Eight's personnel was remarkably consistent. Danny Polo was present on many sessions after mid-1929. Most of the arrangements were stock, but Rollini-influenced British saxophonist Arthur Lally contributed a few excellent special arrangements (such as "Don't Be Like That") as well as a few great bass sax and alto solos! Even the stock arrangements had reworked passages cooked-up on the spot by members of the band; Holley remembered The Rhythmic Eight recorded prolifically during 1928 and 1929 and produced a large number of excellent, hot sides, most of which are now as rare as hens' teeth. When Ahola couldn't make a particular Rhythmic Eight session, as happened on several occasions in 1928 and 1929, Bert (and later his brother John) Firman would hire Norman Payne, Jack Jackson or Max Goldberg (Goldberg more often).