Last Tuesday, December 4, Arts for Art (the organization that puts on the Vision Festival every year) staged a benefit at the Angel Orensanz Center to raise funds for a new Lower East Side performance space to be called The Under_Line. The room will be underneath Clemente Soto Velez, at 107 Suffolk Street in New York. Performers at the show included Marshall Allen, Cooper-Moore, Charles Gayle, Milford Graves, Joe Lovano, Christian McBride, Joe McPhee, William Parker, and more. Here are some videos from the event, shot by Don Mount.
Joe Lovano & Milford Graves duo:
Marshall Allen, Henry Grimes & Milford Graves:
Charles Gayle, Hamiet Bluiett, Jason Kao Hwang, Christian McBride, William Parker & Cooper-Moore:
To donate to Arts for Art and support The Under_Line, as well as the Vision Festival and all their other projects, click here.
I interviewed Charles Gayle once. It was nearly a dozen years ago, in the front room of his tiny Lower East Side apartment. We sat across from each other and talked for a couple of hours; I asked a bunch of dumb, uninformed questions, because I didn’t know much about anything, and he answered patiently, thoughtfully, and at length. When my tape ran out, and I moved to flip it over, he asked that the conversation not be recorded. He hadn’t objected as I recorded the first 45 minutes’ worth of talk, but I obliged him anyway, and in the final piece (a chapter in my first book, New York is Now!), I didn’t use any quotes. He was extremely dismissive of the importance of his own work throughout our discussion, calling what he did “irrelevant” more than once. I believe now that this was a manifestation of his extraordinarily strong Christian faith, no different than his screamingly intense, marathon saxophone solos or his album and song titles.
Gayle’s Christianity isn’t hidden—it’s broadcast via virtually every one of his recordings, sometimes through the titles and sometimes through the actual music (he’s made several albums that seem strongly influenced by gospel forms). In live performance, he’s been known to put down the saxophone and embark on lengthy sermons. This ESP-Disk release, recorded in 1994, is to my knowledge the first official documentation of this latter side of him.
Look Up‘s next-to-last track, “In the Name of the Father,” features a Gayle monologue that begins by claiming that those who say they love John Coltrane and Albert Ayler (players whose influence can be clearly heard in Gayle’s own music) don’t truly understand those musicians unless they embrace Christ. Admittedly, both Coltrane and Ayler were intensely spiritual men, if not necessarily strict churchy types, but I believe it’s possible to find glory and power in their art while rejecting any and all belief in the mythological or supernatural. I certainly have.
Anyway, that’s where Gayle’s preaching begins, but that’s not where it ends. He moves on to denunciations of abortion and homosexuality, too, all based on a faith that seems more rooted in the Old Testament than the New. During this speech, his rhythm section—bassist Michael Bisio, currently heard in Matthew Shipp‘s trio, and drummer Michael Wimberly, who’s been working with Gayle and others off and on for years—keep a free but propulsive groove going, which helps turn what Gayle’s saying into “part of the show,” in some ways, especially since he erupts into another fiery saxophone solo when he’s done yelling. Given that this performance was recorded in California, it’s entirely possible that some, if not many, present treated it as performative madness to be snickered at, as if he was Wesley Willis or someone like that. That would be unfortunate. Gayle’s faith is very real to him, and even though I don’t share it, not even a little, I would never suggest that he be mocked or scoffed at for it.
“In the Name of the Father” is but one track of five, though, and the shortest one at that. The other four are burners of varying length (though every one passes the ten-minute mark) and intensity. In 1994, when this performance was recorded, Gayle was at something of a creative peak; he’d already made his best-known (and best) album, Touchin’ On Trane, with bassist William Parker and drummer Rashied Ali, three years earlier, and would soon release Kingdom Come with Parker and drummer Sunny Murray. Two of the tracks on Look Up are explicit tributes to predecessors—”Homage to Albert Ayler” and “I Remember Dolphy”; on the latter, Gayle plays bass clarinet. The last piece, “The Book of Revelation,” is nearly 23 minutes of fierce blowing, with a core of incantatory melody—there’s nothing random or unfettered about what Gayle, Bisio and Wimberly are doing. Indeed, the way the album is recorded and mixed, the drummer is frequently the loudest element, and he’s playing with extraordinary power, slamming the kit like he’s in a metal band. Bisio disappears beneath this avalanche of percussion at times, re-emerging during the set’s quieter moments (notably on the melancholy “I Remember Dolphy,” which he launches with a terrific, heartfelt solo).
Charles Gayle‘s music is breathtaking whether you share his faith or not. This album is one of the stronger entries in his discography—the fact that the tape took 18 years to emerge says nothing about its quality. Highly recommended.
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.
The Norwegian/Swedish jazz power trio The Thing (saxophonist Mats Gustafsson, bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten, drummer Paal Nilssen-Love) has been active for 12 years at this point, and has released nearly as many albums, including collaborations with Joe McPhee, Jim O’Rourke, Otomo Yoshihide, Thurston Moore, Ken Vandermark, and a group called the Cato Salsa Experience. But to my ear, they’re at their best when it’s just the three of them. The combination of Gustafsson’s blustering, Albert Ayler-meets-Peter Brötzmann riffing and screaming, reed-splintering solos, Håker Flaten’s booming, thunderous (yet shockingly subtle) bass attack, and Nilssen-Love’s machine-gun, almost punk-rock drumming is one of the most potent sounds in jazz. There are and have always been plenty of muscular saxophonists in free jazz, from the aforementioned Ayler and Brötzmann to Archie Shepp, Charles Gayle, David S. Ware, and many more, but Gustafsson is that rare player who seems to have a genuine spiritual affinity for noisy rock as well, and his fellow Thing members share that raucous, nearly anarchic spirit.
The group began as a tribute to trumpeter Don Cherry. Their self-titled debut album featured versions of six of his compositions—“Awake Nu,” “Mopti,” “Cherryco,” “Ode to Don,” “The Art of Steve Roney—Smilin’” and “Trans-Love Airways.” The follow-up, She Knows… (with McPhee), included their recording of the Cherry composition that gave the group its name, alongside versions of McPhee’s “Old Eyes,” Ornette Coleman and Pat Metheny’s “Kathelin Gray,” Frank Lowe’s “For Real,” James “Blood” Ulmer’s “Baby Talk,” and PJ Harvey’s “To Bring You My Love.” The importation of rock tunes into the free jazz world continued on 2004’s Garage, which included their takes on the White Stripes’ “Aluminum,” the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Art Star,” and the Sonics’ “Have Love Will Travel,” while 2006’s aptly titled Action Jazz included an interpretation of noise-punk duo Lightning Bolt’s “Ride the Sky.”
The latest Thing CD, The Cherry Thing, is co-credited to vocalist Neneh Cherry, stepdaughter of Don, who had a hit single, “Buffalo Stance,” in 1988. On it, the quartet perform another of Don Cherry’s compositions—“Golden Heart,” one of the four themes that made up Side One of 1965’s Complete Communion. The lyrics Neneh Cherry sings may be hers, and new; they’re certainly not present in the original. The group also tackles “What Reason Could I Give?”, from Ornette Coleman; the Stooges’ “Dirt”; Suicide’s “Dream Baby Dream”; Madvillain’s “Accordion”; Martina Topley-Bird’s “Too Tough to Die”; and two new songs: the Gustafsson-penned “Sudden Moment” and “Cashback,” with lyrics by Cherry. Some tracks work, others don’t. “Dirt” has a terrific rumbling energy, Gustafsson’s baritone sax approximating Ron Asheton’s guitar quite well, but Cherry’s vocals lack the punch of Iggy Pop’s on the original. “Accordion,” originally a hip-hop track, becomes doggerel and nonsense when its lyrics are sung rather than rapped, and while the band manages to work up a decent groove, Gustafsson seems slightly lost. Ultimately, the biggest problem with The Cherry Thing is that in making room for their guest, the guys are forced to restrain themselves; consequently, the lung-busting, finger-fracturing energy of albums like Garage, Action Jazz and Bag It! is lost. You can’t confine Mats Gustafsson to a preordained solo spot in the middle of a song, making him play Lester Young to Cherry’s Billie Holiday. It’s fine that they’ve demonstrated the ability to hold back under certain circumstances. They haven’t answered the question of whether, or why, they should.
Here’s a video for “Accordion”:
A few months ago, The Thing released Metal!, a double live LP recorded in April 2011 in Lithuania, on the NoBusiness label. On this album, they’re joined by British bassist Barry Guy, known for working with saxophonist Evan Parker and guitarist Derek Bailey and being a member of the Spontaneous Music Ensemble, among many other projects. The first 10 of its 11 tracks blend together into a seamless, largely continuous performance, and all are named for rare metals. The last, obviously an encore, is a run through “Ride the Sky” that’s less than two minutes long.
The combination of Guy’s background in European improv and The Thing’s more Americanized (despite their Scandinavian origins) approach to free jazz yields a compelling performance that’s unique in their discography. Both Guy and Håker Flaten seem to bow the strings of their instruments more often than they pluck them, and while Gustafsson is his usual obstreperous self, shrieking and roaring through extended solos, the rock-meets-free jazz bluster and intensely rhythmic phrasing that typically characterize his work is largely absent. He seems to be adopting the Euro-improv method of slowly feeling his way around, listening to whatever small cues his bandmates (the two bassists in particular) offer and responding in kind, suggesting potential paths but never truly leading. Nilssen-Love, for his part, is also quite restrained, never setting up a beat and only rarely (as on sections of “Neodymium” and “Europium”) erupting into anything solo-ish. Some tracks here, notably “Samarium” and “Dysprosium,” are practically silent. The only ones that come close to the sustained, vein-popping intensity one expects from The Thing are “Gadolinium,” a few passages of the set opener, “Lanthanum,” and the closing version of “Ride the Sky.”
Like the album with Neneh Cherry, Metal! is The Thing proving they’re not one-trick ponies. But unlike The Cherry Thing, this side trip is enjoyable almost from beginning to end, and doesn’t make me feel like they’re sacrificing anything vital in order to appeal to listeners seeking easy pleasure. In fact, Metal! is one of The Thing’s most challenging albums, which is probably why it’s a vinyl-only release limited to 600 copies. Get one while you can.
Here’s video of the performance with Guy, in two parts:
