Posts tagged ‘archie shepp’

March 11, 2013

The Next Day

thenextday

by Phil Freeman

The new David Bowie album, The Next Day, demonstrates and showcases the virtues of, and reasserts the radicalism of, seemingly traditional rock music. Were the vocals mixed just a little lower, the band’s contributions could be heard that much more clearly, and recognized that much more easily, but the conscientious listener—headphones are recommended—will soon take note of the small, almost tossed-off moments of sonic surprise and subtle brilliance, conjured via the minds and hands of genuine virtuosi, that are the true heart of this record.

The Next Day features a medium-sized cast of musicians, but there’s a core group who perform on most of the tracks. Gerry Leonard is the primary guitarist, playing on 13 of 14 tracks; Gail Ann Dorsey is the bassist on seven songs (she also sings background vocals at times), while Tony Levin handles five others; and drummer Zachary Alford is heard on 12 of 14 songs. David Torn also plays guitar on seven pieces here, while Earl Slick guests on three. Two songs, “Valentine’s Day” and “(You Will) Set the World on Fire,” have sharply divergent personnel from the rest of the record—Slick on guitar, Tony Visconti (the album’s producer) on bass, and Sterling Campbell on drums. (Leonard also plays guitar on “(You Will) Set the World on Fire.”) And on three songs, Steve Elson plays baritone sax and/or contrabass clarinet, while pianist Henry Hey appears on two others. A four-piece string section (Antoine Silverman, Maxim Moston, Hiroko Taguchi, and Anja Wood) play on four songs.

The songs with Elson are some of the most immediately interesting. “Dirty Boys” is built on a lurching groove reminiscent of Tom Waits songs like “The Earth Died Screaming” or “Way Down in the Hole.” Alongside the farting horn, the three guitars—straight chopping chords from Leonard and Visconti, and sandpapery blues noises from Earl Slick (I’m assuming)—sear the air. Levin and Alford are a precise rhythm team who nevertheless know how to let the groove breathe. Elson is the only player who gets a real solo, but the song fades as he’s heading into an exciting, almost Archie Shepp-ish place.

He doesn’t get to do even that much on the next song, “The Stars (Are Out Tonight),” mostly growling in the background as strings that feel like an indulgence (the parts played by four live humans could easily have been punched in from a keyboard; just ask Dimmu Borgir) swoop and swoon. For much of his third appearance, on “Boss of Me,” he shadows the bassist, inserting ultra-low rumbles at the edge of the mix. But as the song progresses, he gradually rises in the mix, and in the final minute or so of the piece, he enters into a call-and-response with the vocalist, and is finally (along with the keyboards) the last sound heard, a long-held note slowly dissolving.

For the most part, the songs on The Next Day are built on supple if conventional rock grooves. In the hands of lesser players, these might be forgettable, even ignorable, a mere backdrop. But a truly exemplary rock performance is as difficult a feat of instrumental interaction as anything in contemporary music—compare, say, prime AC/DC, on its face as primitive and simplistic as rock music gets, to the work of an AC/DC imitator like Rhino Bucket, and you’ll understand what I mean. For this reason, the best music here is made when the band is operating more or less as a unit, relatively free from outside interference.

A perfect counterexample is “Love is Lost,” which features a one-finger keyboard contribution from the singer that’s somewhere between ? and the Mysterians’ “96 Tears” and Miles Davis’s “Rated X,” and which is instantly less interesting than its immediate predecessor, “The Stars (Are Out Tonight)”; the rhythm is stiff and mechanistic, the drums mixed to sound like a crudely programmed track from the ’80s and the bass hitting one note, over and over and over. Compare that with the shuffling groove and gently psychedelic guitar spirals of “I’d Rather Be High,” also played by Leonard and Alford. (“Love is Lost” features Dorsey on bass, while “I’d Rather Be High” has Levin.) The one-finger keyboards return on “How Does the Grass Grow?”, but they’re beaten back by some digitally crisped guitar from David Torn, the latest in a string of art-noise guitarists to be heard on David Bowie albums, including Robert Fripp and Reeves Gabrels.

Torn, who’s worked extensively with saxophonist Tim Berne, among many, many others, is one of the best things about The Next Day. His contributions are sometimes subtle, sometimes noisy and abrasive, but always welcome. His ability to balance distortion and a beautifully vaporous sort of sound, one that’s uniquely his as far as I can tell, makes him the kind of musician that can vault a seemingly traditional rock song into new, unexpected territory. His embrace of technology also makes him a bridge between classicism and futurism, allowing for a slickness that never feels trendy or bound to the moment of a song’s recording. As a result of his efforts, and those of his bandmates, this is a record which reveals more and more to the focused ear over time. We think we know everything that guitar, bass and drums can accomplish, and that seemingly conventional and familiar structures are an excuse to let our attention wane, to spend more time thinking about lyrics, or fashion, or a record’s position within the commercial landscape, than the actual sounds being produced by the musicians involved. The Next Day is a blow against that mentality, and as such deserves close attention.

Stream “The Stars (Are Out Tonight)”:

October 15, 2012

Archie Shepp Attica Blues Big Band

Last month, saxophonist/composer Archie Shepp performed at the Festival Jazz à la Villette in France with the Attica Blues Big Band, a 26-member (plus himself) ensemble that featured, among others, trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire, pianist and vocalist Amina Claudine Myers, and drummer Famoudou Don Moye. This was a nearly 25-years-later sequel to the original Attica Blues Big Band, an all-star ensemble assembled in 1979 and documented on a double CD on the Marge label. (Read a review here.)

Archie Shepp had a pretty incredible decade-long run starting in about 1964; I have over a dozen of his albums—Four for TraneMama Too Tight, The Magic of Ju-Ju, Yasmina, A Black Woman, Poem for Malcolm, Blasé, Black Gipsy, The Way Ahead, Live at the Pan-African Festival, Live in Antibes Vols. 1 & 2, Attica Blues, Coral Rock, The Cry of My People and Kwanza—in my iPod right now. His ability to blend raucous R&B and funk with flesh-searing free jazz; to make the blues a channel for political rage in a non-hokey way; to create literal African-American music in North Africa…he was really onto something in those days. I haven’t really dug into anything he did after the mid ’70s, though. That’s why it’s good to see him mounting a show like this, which demonstrates that his skill as a synthesist remains intact, and that when he puts the horn to his lips, he’s still got the fire in his pocket, available on demand.

The whole performance is online; here are three selected tracks:

“Blues for Brother George Jackson”:

“Mama Too Tight”:

“The Cry of My People”:

If you want to watch the entire two-hour concert, you can see it here.

September 12, 2012

The 50 Greatest Saxophonists…EVER!!! 30-21

Our week-long countdown reaches its midpoint, as we offer you #s 30-21 of the 50 Greatest Saxophonists Ever. And don’t miss a bonus list at the end – Darius Jones‘ five favorite saxophonists! Shall we begin?

30. HENRY THREADGILL. An alto saxophonist of searing intensity, Henry Threadgill is also one of the most imaginative composers on the planet. His early musical history coincides with the mid-’60s inception of Chicago’s legendary Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians; through the organization he met key collaborators such as Muhal Richard Abrams (whose Young at Heart/Wise in Time marked Threadgill’s recorded debut) and Anthony Braxton. Threadgill also soaked up gospel, polka and classical music at an early age, and he soon began dreaming up his own fantastical, stylistically boundless aesthetic, first showcased as part of Air, a collective trio that reconciled ’60s-style free jazz with ragtime. From there, Threadgill’s palette broadened exponentially, yielding a series of unconventional ensembles, including the double-drum Sextett, the two-tuba and two-guitar Very Very Circus, and Threadgill’s current working band, an entrancing sextet known as Zooid. Threadgill continues to double on flute, but his signature instrument remains the alto sax—the mercurial x-factor in his obsessive, micro-detailed sound world. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: The Sextett is Threadgill’s most accessible band, and its dazzling string of ’80s albums is a great place to get acquainted. Rag, Bush and All, from 1989, may have a slight edge on its predecessor, 1987′s Easily Slip Into Another World, but both are outstanding.

29. BEN WEBSTER. A contemporary of Coleman Hawkins and a product of the rich Kansas City jazz scene, Webster lacked the easy expressiveness of some of his rivals, but had a fat, ragged sound all his own, and the ability to sweeten it up when called upon to do so. A stalwart of Duke Ellington’s orchestra for several years, his stormy playing is less known today thanks to a limited number of releases as a bandleader, but he’s well worth exploring for the distinct quality he brought to the instrument. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Some of Webster’s best playing is on hard-to-find live dates from his European years, but Soulville, a 1957 exercise with the Oscar Peterson Trio, is a good a place as any to get into his earthy, rough tone.

28. LESTER YOUNG. Young was a game-changer, his light, floating style a near-total counterpoint to the dominant saxophone voice of the time, the blustering Coleman Hawkins. His crucial recordings were all made during the swing era of the late 1930s toe early 1940s, though his career continued until his early death in 1959. His partnerships with Count Basie and Billie Holiday inspired him to most of his greatest heights, though he made some excellent records as a leader, notably the 1956 album The Jazz Giants, which offers a mix of extended, hard-swinging tunes and brooding balladry. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Count Basie’s Complete Original American Decca Recordings shows you what Young was doing between 1937 and 1939.

27. STAN GETZ. A hugely influential tenor player with an impeccable and extraordinarily beautiful tone, Getz began his career during the swing era of the 1940s, but first achieved major popularity in the early 1950s. A few years later, he began combining jazz with Brazilian bossa nova and had a huge hit with “The Girl from Ipanema,” featuring vocals by Astrud Gilberto. He kept working right up until his death in 1991, rarely losing a step and often making surprisingly challenging albums. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Quintets: The Clef & Norgran Studio Albums, a three-disc compilation of early ’50s masterpieces, cool and lush without resorting to strings, vocalists or other crutches.

26. DON DIETRICH/JIM SAUTER. These two are paired because they’re difficult to imagine separately. As two-thirds of Borbetomagus, they’ve blended free jazz, improv and noise for over 30 years, and while the Borbeto sound is almost instantly recognizable (in the kind of circles where people have heard of this stuff at all, obviously), discerning Jim from Don within the swirling storm can be difficult even for the men themselves. Besides, one of their major innovations—the “bells together” technique, which is exactly what it sounds like—requires two horns to execute. So really, symbiosis and collaboration are the point. But if you must separate them, Jim’s the one with the beard and Don’s the one with the glasses. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Barbed Wire Maggots, originally a two-track LP expanded on CD; like sandpapering your eardrums, but in the best possible way.

25. CHARLES GAYLE. A hurricane disguised as a tall, thin old man, Gayle is post-Albert Ayler, post-Pharoah Sanders, even post-music at times. His raw, totally improvised entreaties to God are the equivalent of an Old Testament prophet crying out in the desert, his ever-shifting rhythm sections scuffling and talking mostly to each other as he barrels ahead, mostly on the tenor but sometimes on alto or even bass clarinet, fierce intensity and self-taught but still impressive technique combining into a sound unlike any other free jazz player on Earth, old or new. He also plays the piano sometimes, and isn’t all wild roars—his ballads have a remarkable desolation. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Touchin’ On Trane, where he restrains himself somewhat to pay tribute to the John Coltrane of Interstellar Space and Stellar Regions, backed by bassist William Parker and former Coltrane drummer Rashied Ali.

24. LOU DONALDSON. This funky, bluesy alto player’s been leading bands since the mid-1950s, beginning as a hard bopper (he worked with Art Blakey immediately prior to the drummer forming the Jazz Messengers) and moving in a more soulful, groove-oriented direction at the dawn of the ’60s. His organ-driven dates like Alligator Boogaloo and Midnight Creeper offer thick slabs of funk, the occasional ill-advised cover tune surrounded by one foot-tapping original after another. Some might say a little of this stuff goes a long way, but Donaldson’s got enough of a fan base among blues, R&B and soul listeners that frustrating jazz nerds was likely never a big concern for him. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: The Natural Soul, a 1962 soul-jazz workout featuring trumpeter Tommy Turrentine, guitarist Grant Green, organist Big John Patton and drummer Ben Dixon.

23. JD ALLEN. A sharp, expressive tenor player whose reputation has grown rapidly in recent years, Allen got a slow start as a solo act, releasing two discs in 1999 and 2002 that went nowhere. Following several years as an in-demand sideman, he formed a trio with bassist Gregg August and drummer Rudy Royston that’s made four terrific albums to date. Allen’s compositions are concise, introspective vignettes (2011’s Victory! packed 12 tracks into 36 minutes) that showcase his Coltrane-in-’64 tone and his focused interplay with his bandmates. He can also be heard regularly backing two adventurous trumpeters: in Jeremy Pelt’s quintet and David Weiss’s Point of Departure. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Victory!, the trio’s shortest and/but most potent statement to date.

22. CANNONBALL ADDERLEY. This burly alto saxophonist, who also played soprano in his later years, combined hard bop and soul into a funky, melodic, hard-swinging sound that brought him chart hits (“This Here” and “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy”) and steady work on the road. In the mid-1950s, Adderley and his cornet-playing brother Nat had an unsuccessful band; after Cannonball did a short stint with Miles Davis (he’s on Kind of Blue and Milestones), they formed a new band which carried them through the 1960s. In addition to keyboardist Joe Zawinul, the group featured a second saxophone for a while—first played by Yusef Lateef, then Charles Lloyd. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: The Cannonball Adderley Quintet in San Francisco, a joyful, hard-swinging 1959 live date that includes “This Here.”

21. ARCHIE SHEPP. Shepp rarely gets the credit he deserves for having been an early adapter of avant-garde ideas (he partnered with trumpeter Bill Dixon in 1962), possibly because he figured out early on what he wanted to do with the music and stuck with it. One of the first players to deliberately break with the established hard bop style of the day, he settled into a rich and identifiable groove by combining Afrocentric rhythms and themes with leaping, sometimes extravagant free jazz sax lines. Though he rarely went as far afield as the lines of Ornette Coleman or Albert Ayler, he could not have found a more effective way to deliver his chosen message. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: 1974’s Kwanza, released on Impulse! during a particularly strong period for Shepp, finds him laying some seriously spastic sax cuts over a fierce band as well-versed in Afro-pop and hard funk as jazz improv.

BONUS LIST: DARIUS JONES’ 5 FAVORITE SAXOPHONISTS

DEXTER GORDON. Dexter is my home base. His sense of sound, phrasing, harmony, and attitude as an improviser is so inspiring. It completely centers me when I am lost in a sea of esoteric madness.

HENRY THREADGILL. In many ways Henry is what I am striving to be as an artist. He has a very distinct sound/language on his instruments and as a composer. Henry is so down to earth and unique in his perception of life too. I love how he approaches music like an artist of any discipline. Also no matter how sophisticated his music is it still retains soulfulness. He is a major influence.

MACEO PARKER. Joy and happiness is what I think of when I hear Maceo. That is something I don’t feel from a lot of players. Also his sense of phrasing and groove is unbelievable. His commitment to the music that he wanted to play is also inspiring. You can hear the ability to play anything in his playing. But he chose to play music that makes himself and other people happy. So deep!

THOMAS CHAPIN. Thomas was the saxophonist that got me really thinking about expressing my personality through my instrument. I can’t help but to feel this deep sense of connection to self when he plays. He is totally putting himself out there. No matter the perception or context. Just getting off on himself and the band.

JAN GARBAREK. Patience is what I think about every time I listen to Jan. Totally lyrical. Nothing to prove. Completely allowing the music to unfold in the manor that it wants to unfold. His sound is unbelievable. Plus he is not afraid to just play a melody. Beautiful musician.

September 11, 2012

The 50 Greatest Saxophonists…EVER!!! 40-31

Welcome back to our countdown of the 50 Greatest Saxophonists Ever. Let’s get right to it. And don’t miss guest contributor Jon Irabagon‘s list of his 5 favorite saxophonists, at the end!

40. JOHN GILMORE. A brawny, forceful tenor player whose vibratoless sound and thoughtful improvisations made him stand out, Gilmore was Sun Ra’s right hand man for decades, which means his non-Ra discography is extremely thin: fewer than 10 albums as a sideman and none as a true leader, though he’s co-billed with Clifford Jordan on 1957’s Blowin’ In from Chicago. He was a member of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers for a while in 1965 and ’66, with only a single studio date, 1965′s obscure ‘S Make It, to document his tenure in the group. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Compulsion, maybe the most out-there album pianist Andrew Hill (who used Gilmore as a sideman twice, in 1964 and ’65) ever made. The 14-minute title track is a blood-boiling journey into half-restrained madness.

39. JACKIE McLEAN. The son of a musical family, Jackie McLean was being taught by the likes of Thelonious Monk and Charlie Parker when he was still a kid, and by the time he was a teenager, he was blowing in bands with Miles Davis, Charles Mingus and Art Blakey. He moved past his early hard-bop tendencies into a rich, multi-faceted modal style in the 1960s; his playing was characterized by a deep, soulful blues tone, a sharp and commanding pitch, and an undeniable emotional intensity. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Let Freedom Ring, McLean’s 1962 Blue Note album, where he makes an astonishing break from the past and launches fully into avant-garde sounds of huge expressiveness.

38. HANK MOBLEY. A solid player and an undervalued composer, Mobley was a perfect partner to trumpeter Lee Morgan: Both had a muscular, strong playing style, a keen ear for pop compositions, and an ability to blend catchy melodic play with improvisational swing. What his playing lacked in flash and intensity, it made up for in subtle clarity, and only the bad luck of making his best albums during a spectacularly fertile period for bop-influenced saxophonists kept him from being a household name. ESSENTIAL LISTENING:  Mobley’s entire 1960s output with Blue Note is spectacular, but 1960’s aptly titled Workout, a relentlessly swinging hard bop masterpiece, might be the best of the lot.

37. BRANFORD MARSALIS. A chameleonic player with much more wit and charm than his frequently didactic younger brother Wynton, Marsalis has made a string of excellent post-bop records starting in the 1980s and, perhaps surprisingly, his recent work is even better at times than his best-known releases. It’s occasionally difficult to discern his own personality as a tenor player when he starts explicitly imitating Sonny Rollins or Charlie Rouse, but on the soprano saxophone, at least, he’s an undeniable master, with a fuller and richer tone than most who pick up that instrument. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Crazy People Music, a 1990 quartet date with pianist Kenny Kirkland, bassist Robert Hurst and drummer Jeff “Tain” Watts that offered an utterly modern take on classic(ist) hard bop.

36. DAVID MURRAY. A serious polymath, Murray emerged from the ’70s loft scene as a post-Ayler titan, blowing like a hurricane (sometimes with present-day arch-conservative critic Stanley Crouch on drums!). But as the decade ended and the ’80s began, he went in a much more straight-ahead, even retro direction, combining his appetite for multiphonics and “wrong notes” with a thick, fuzzy tone reminiscent of Ben Webster or Coleman Hawkins. Astonishingly prolific, he injects his instantly recognizable voice into wildly disparate circumstances, coming up a winner more often than not. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Ming, the 1980 debut of his Octet, an all-star band (Henry Threadgill, Olu Dara, Butch Morris, George Lewis, Anthony Davis, Wilber Morris, Steve McCall) that swung freely with tremendous force; Shakill’s Warrior, a thoroughly Murray-ized approach to the Hammond B-3 soul jazz form.

35. MATS GUSTAFSSON. This Swedish player works with multiple reeds, and even sticks a saxophone mouthpiece on a flute and calls it a “fluteophone.” When absorbing his barrages of sound, the urge to make comparisons to Albert Ayler and Peter Brötzmann (he’s a member of Brötz’s Chicago Tentet) will be strong, but he’s definitely got a style all his own, particularly when playing the baritone sax, as he does with one of his best-known groups, The Thing. That trio’s ability to blend rock energy (and covers of songs by the White Stripes, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and PJ Harvey, among others) with free jazz fervor has made it one of the most exciting groups around, but frankly, Gustafsson can get listeners’ pulses racing in almost any context. He’s capable of subtlety when the mood strikes him, of course, but that’s something of a rare occurrence—he’s a blaster at heart, and that’s a damn good thing. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Bag It!, The Thing’s 2009 CD, recorded by Steve Albini.

34. JOE McPHEE. Though Joe McPhee may be known for his tenor and soprano work, he’s also a formidable pocket trumpeter, valve trombonist and clarinetist. McPhee is a musician with a vast conception, drawn from peers like Albert Ayler and Archie Shepp, whose searing approach early on was countered by an extraordinary degree of spaciousness, not exactly the prevailing method of late 1960s New York improvisation. McPhee lives in Poughkeepsie, NY, and/but much of his notoriety came from Europe and a close working relationship with Swiss label Hat Hut Records, which was initially formed to distribute his music. And while some of McPhee’s significant collaborations have been with barnstormers like The Thing and Peter Brötzmann, he’s brought a steely and almost self-effacing patience to those proceedings. That’s been further borne out across myriad solo recordings, some of which—like Tenor (Hat Hut, 1977), Soprano (Roaratorio, 1998/2008), and Alto (Roaratorio, 2009)—focus on a specific instrument or range, while others like Graphics (Hat Hut, 1978) or As Serious as Your Life (Hat Hut, 1996) seem all-encompassing. And what is that which is encompassed? Openness, stark and long-held tones, rousing honks and cries, or “The Death of Miles Davis” presented in tight Bill Dixon-esque trumpet chuffs. McPhee has always seemed like part of the “younger generation” of improvisers, even though he came up alongside the progenitors of the new jazz. Perhaps it’s his youthful face and demeanor; perhaps it’s just the particular contemporary vibrancy that his playing has, but McPhee is a bright link between the unquestionable “now” and a not-too-distant history. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Nation Time, a 1971 release that’s either the funkiest free jazz record or the free-est funk record you’ll ever hear.

33. FRANK WRIGHTFrank Wright’s music was full of ecstatic, funky shouts and had a bit more bar-walk than his major influence Albert Ayler’s, though it was shot through with a similarly explosive and glossolalia-filled energy. In New York, Wright’s searing and declaratory free blues was creating its indelible stamp just as many improvisers were leaving the disinterested American environment for hopeful appreciation in Europe, and he was part of the wave of free jazzmen landing in Paris in 1969. The recordings Wright made with a cooperative quartet consisting of Muhammad Ali (drums), Bobby Few (piano), Noah Howard (alto saxophone) and, later, bassist Alan Silva, are incredibly powerful documents of the expatriate Afro-avant-garde. Billed as the Center of the World, they were a publishing cooperative as well as an improvising unit, and acted as a European analogue to stateside self-reliance projects like Strata-East. A fascinating player who, while not necessarily a self-editor, put forth spontaneous spiritual offerings of music and life, Frank Wright’s sizable discography demands attention. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: Your Prayer (ESP-Disk, 1967); Church Number Nine (Calumet, 1970), Last Polka in Nancy? (Center of the World, 1973)

32. NOAH HOWARD. Born in New Orleans, alto saxophonist Howard made his name in New York, where he recorded for ESP-Disk, and Paris, where he collaborated with Frank Wright on albums that blended fire-music blare with heartfelt melody. His best-known work, The Black Ark, is one of the fiercest free jazz records ever, by anybody, but his sensitive side is better exposed on records like Space Dimension and his self-titled debut, on which he seemed to be adapting Ornette Coleman’s ideas about freedom to an almost chamber-jazz context. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: The Noah Howard Quartet, an introspective and genuinely lovely statement; The Black Ark, a fist-in-the-face free jazz assault that remembers to give the listener actual tunes to hang onto when things get really wild.

31. JULIUS HEMPHILL. Few saxophonists married earthiness and refinement as successfully as Julius Hemphill. Born in Fort Worth, Texas, in 1938, he made his first key recordings in the early ’70s, as part of the St. Louis-based Black Artists Group. Early efforts such as the self-released Dogon A.D. and Coon Bid’ness—both featuring cellist Abdul Wadud, a career-long foil for Hemphill—presented spiky avant-funk alongside tender, chamber-folky melody, while showcasing the leader’s urgent, blazingly fluid alto style. In 1977, Hemphill, along with his BAG peers Oliver Lake and Hamiet Bluiett, cofounded the World Saxophone Quartet, a hyper-versatile, rhythm-section-less ensemble that could simulate an orchestra. Hemphill’s Sextet, active throughout the ’90s, continued in the sax-choir format, but he also made innovative overdubbed solo recordings (featuring his soprano and flute work in addition to alto), composed for settings ranging from big band to classical piano quintet, and worked in an ongoing duo with Wadud. ESSENTIAL LISTENING: There’s a reason why Dogon A.D. is unanimously acclaimed among open-minded jazz aficionados. Start there, then try the World Saxophone Quartet‘s Live in Zurich, or Raw Materials and Residuals, a trio with Wadud and Art Ensemble of Chicago drummer Don Moye.

BONUS LIST: JON IRABAGON’S 5 FAVORITE SAXOPHONISTS

RUDY WIEDOEFT. An under-appreciated virtuoso from pre-jazz times. Dazzling techniques and possibilities that even today can be mined further.

COLEMAN HAWKINS. The father of the current way saxophone is thought of in jazz. “Body and Soul,” from 1939, is a masterpiece.

JOHN COLTRANE. Took jazz further in a short career span than anyone before or since. The continual searching of his music has saxophonists perpetually on their toes.

ORNETTE COLEMAN. In addition to the cry of the blues that defines him, Ornette’s expansion of the relationship between melody, harmony and rhythm changed the possibilities of jazz.

EVAN PARKER. Evan Parker has created his own extended saxophone language that has influenced countless modern improvisation musicians, not only saxophone players.

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