Meet Me with Your Black Drawers On

Meet Me with Your Black Drawers On
By Jeannie Cheatham
University of Texas Press
0-292-71293-6

In the 1980’s and 1990’s Jeannie and Jimmy Cheatham led the Sweet Baby Blues Band, which helped re-popularize honest blues-based swing combos in jazz. The Cheathams were close musical collaborators and one of the great jazz romances. Sadly, Mr. Cheatham passed away in January, but Mrs. Cheatham’s memoir, Meet Me with Your Black Drawers On, is in many ways a valentine to her trombonist husband.

Jeannie Cheatham started playing gigs around Ohio, including Springfield (home to my alma mater), the scene for some Jim Crowism, evidently drifting over the Kentucky or West Virginia borders. Cheatham explains she and her band bought ice cream at a well known parlor, to the dismay of an elderly African-American woman outside the store. Cheatham recalls:

“‘Well,’ [bandmember] Shakespeare said, ‘Today is your lucky day! We gonna treat you to ice cream in Isaly’s on Main Street in Springfield!” She looked frightened, but we each took one of her arms and marched back into the parlor and ordered her choice: vanilla ice cream shaped like a pyramid.” (P. 99)

[In 1990’s, if Isaly’s was still in business, it had lost its place as ice cream of choice to Young’s in nearby Yellow Springs, where all customers were welcome.]

It was in Buffalo that the Cheathams met, eventually leaving for New York. Jimmy Cheatham would later accept teaching positions in Wisconsin and San Diego, where the Cheathams together invigorated the local jazz scenes. Eventually, they established the Sweet Baby Blues band, which hit at the perfect time, with jazz tastes embracing swing and blues again. Before signing with Concord they met with a producer, Don Cooke, who evidently did not anticipate the shift in tastes then brewing. According to Cheatham:

“He greeted us warmly, then settled back in his seat to listen to the tape. When the music concluded, silence settled over us. Don hooked his hands behind his head and declared, ‘This stuff will never fly! You have to bring it up to date. Add a funk beat. Maybe some electronics . . .” (p. 314)

“Meet Me With Your Black Drawers On” was written in a moment of inspiration the night before they recorded their Concord debut. It garnered a great deal of radio play becoming their breakout tune. Cheatham describes the good vibe of the recording session:

“The cup of intuition ran over. We requested that the studio be darkned, only the music stands lighted, so we didn’t have to dig too far down to feel that it was ‘round midnight in some roundhouse on the outskirts of town.” (p. 329)

Cheatham writes candidly, with a distinct voice. Jazz fans will enjoy the stories of legendary jazz artists she worked with and befriended, including Babs Gonzales, Papa Jo Jones, Pete Johnson, and Jay McShann. Drawers is a great package that comes with a sampler CD of their Concord work, which of course begins with the title song. The publisher clearly showed confidence in Cheatham’s memoir, going to the expense of printing several photo inserts throughout the book and embossing the cover (but the decision not to include an index was odd).

Reading Drawers makes it clear how well matched Jeannie and Jimmy Cheatham were in music and in life, which makes reading it more touching given his recent passing. However, Cheatham relates a rich full life together that brought great music into the world.

New Orleans and this Year’s School Buses

The image of the fleet of school buses, languishing under flood water, rather than in use evacuating New Orleans residents, as per the city’s contingency plans, is a lasting image of Katrina ineptness. Now New Orleans has a new symbol of incompetence: six doublewide trailers, supplied by FEMA to provide primary care, still unused because of the City government’s excruciating red tape.

When the Times-Picayune titles an editorial “Slower than FEMA” that’s a heavy statement, but local officials have been nothing short of derelict in their duties. The Times-Pic writes:

“This outbreak can’t be blamed on state and federal agencies that failed to grasp the urgency of the situation. LSU started planning a temporary network of neighborhood clinics two months after Hurricane Katrina shut down Charity Hospital. FEMA delivered six double-wide trailers, each equipped with eight exam rooms last summer.

But New Orleans officials dithered and delayed over zoning concerns, and as a result, the trailers are still sitting in the University Hospital parking lot. Meanwhile, poor New Orleanians have had little access to health services and often end up seeking attention in overcrowded emergency rooms.”

According to the Times-Pic’s reporting the trailers were delivered in early July. Since then they have been consigned to a regulatory purgatory. LSU devised a plan, supported by the City Council President to locate the clinics at schools in neighborhoods where healthcare was severely affected by Katrina. However, two council members, James Carter and Cynthia Willard-Lewis put the project in limbo. According to LSU papers acquired by the Times-Pic:

“‘multiple calls to Councilman Carter and Councilwoman Willard-Lewis regarding the ordinance’ were placed between August and November. ‘Unable to get a firm commitment to pursue ordinance change,’ the timeline reads.”

Their zoning concern? Allowing the clinics could lead to unintended commercial development. Evidently, Carter and Willard-Lewis think over-development is the greatest challenge currently facing New Orleans. If the City of New Orleans cannot shepherd six emergency neighborhood clinics through its labyrinth of red tape in less than nine months, they hardly need worry about an invasion of commercial developers.

The council finally granted a temporary zoning waiver, but it still requires mayoral approval and permits from the city. This is the same local government led by Mayor Nagin, who has toured the country to boost NOLA’s economy. When city councilors are willing to stall neighborhood clinics in order to keep commerce out, he is not exactly promoting a business friendly environment. By the way, as an American taxpayer, you spent $761,000 on these unused trailers. Feel like you’re getting your money’s worth?

Curiously Sinister Art of Jim Flora

Curiously Sinister Art of Jim Flora
By Irwin Chusid & Barbara Economon
Fantagraphics Books tradepaper
978-1-56097-805-3

Alex Kallao’s An Evening At the Embers LP is just okay (it is one of the thousands of sessions recorded by the beloved bassist Milt “the Judge” Hinton), but it is eagerly sought after by record collectors for its distinctive cover art by Jim Flora (website here), renown for his long stints with the Columbia and RCA record labels. While Chusid & Economon’s second collection of Flora’s work has far fewer LP covers than the first, it includes many images that will be of interest to jazz collectors in The Curiously Sinister Art of Jim Flora.

Baroque and subversive, Flora’s art has attracted a cult following. JD King’s forward recaps elements of Flora’s style: “At times we see the cubism of Picasso peeking out, Dali’s dreaminess drifting in, Klee’s linear quality, Miro’s absurdity, and Stuart Davis’s graphic color and shapes.” (p. 31) Chusid trenchantly writes:

“He didn’t simply paint the human face; he admitted to ‘tearing it apart, making it into something grotesque, or something sweet.’ He dismembered bodies, then rewired them like Calder sculptures.” (p. 13)

While there is only a smattering of LP covers included, Sinister has a large section devoted to Flora’s commercial art for Columbia Records that have been almost untirely unseen for years. There are banners, brochures, and point-of-sale materials featuring images of Gene Krupa, Harry James, Frank Sinatra, and Benny Goodman. Of particular historical interest are the promotional booklets Flora mocked-up and sent to Columbia to encourage more promotional efforts for their jazz reissues, which ultimately led to his employment with the label.

Flora had a clear affinity for jazz. Apart from his Columbia and RCA years, he produced images of Count Basie and Fletcher Henderson and a Mardi Gras inspired series. Illustrations like that for Marguerite Young’s short story “The Great Juke,” published in the October 1947 issue of Mademoiselle makes one curious to read the accompanying prose. There are even images of political interest, like those for “The Welfare State is Here to Stay” from Look magazine and “The FCC’s Expanding, Demanding Universe” for Fortune, which illustrate the growth of the government leviathan.

Chusid, the “public editor” of Donald Luskin’s Conspiracy to Keep You Poor and Stupid blog, writes with wit and authority. Together with Economon, he has assembled a striking collection of Flora’s art that most record collectors will flip over. They also maintain a Jim Flora blog, where you can find regularly updated Flora images and commentary.

Buried Alive in the Blues

Chicago Blues Reunion: Buried Alive in the Blues
Eagle Eye Media

Aside from maybe Clarksdale, Mississippi, few towns are as closely associated with the blues as is Chicago. The Windy City has a more vital scene, supporting more venues and musicians. Out of that scene, several young blues artists emerged, achieving a fair amount of rock & roll crossover success. They recently came together again for the Chicago Blues Reunion project and DVD.

The featured musicians of the Chicago Blues Reunion band, Barry Goldberg, Nick Gravenites, Harvey Mandel, Tracy Nelson, Sam Lay, and Corky Siegel, all had shared professional associations in common, the Mike Bloomfield Band being of particular importance. In his commentary B.B. King expresses his regard for the late Bloomfield:

“Mike Bloomfield was like a son. He was like a son—I knew him very well. Mike Bloomfield was one the great young guitarists—great young guitarists . . . Michael Bloomfield to me was on his way to be—sky’s the limit. We lost him too early.”

Of the featured blues artists, Gravenites’ has the more revealing segments. As music critic/on-screen commentator Joel Selvin says of “Born in Chicago:” “when Nick Gravenites talks about his best friend died before he was twenty-one he means it.” Probably better known for writing for others than as a vocalist, he stills belts the blues with the best of them. The subtitle track, “Buried Alive in the Blues,” originally written for Janis Joplin, is one of the standout performances on Reunion.

The credits of the band members are impressive. Drummer Lay recorded on Muddy Waters’ Fathers and Sons album and played with Howlin’ Wolf and James Cotton. Barry Goldberg recounts the experience of sitting in with Bob Dylan on his famous (or notorious) electric debut at the Newport Folk Festival. Arguably the most crossover success was had by Harvey Mandel, a veteran of Canned Heat, who tells of recording with the Rolling Stones and auditioning for the place eventually filled by Ron Woods.

It is worth noting that most of the crossover success for Chicago Blues musicians was had by white musicians like Mandel and Goldberg. Selvin points out some of the historical realities of race relevant to the Chicago Blues scene:

“White musicians picking up on black music had a lot of ramifications that went beyond the strictly musical, but this was going on from literally the beginning of rock & roll . . . the white audience, when they were confronted by this white blues music out of Chicago—they were unaware of Howlin’ Wolf. They knew nothing of Muddy Waters. Little Walter—who’s he? So they were getting their first taste of this music which was so familiar to the black community of Chicago.”

Besides Lay, the musicians of the Reunion band are obviously white. However, the interviews and archival footage suggest they were largely accepted by the predominantly African-American Chicago blues scene. Reunion is an interesting documentary, graced by the recollections of blues legends like the patriotically attired Buddy Guy and King (who retells the fateful origin of his guitar’s famous name in one interview sequence). There are some great performances, notably Gravenites on “Buried Alive on the Blues” and Lay on “I’ve Gotta Find My Baby,” which are also included on a bonus CD. Like many of the featured musicians, Reunion could serve as an accessible introduction to the blues for neophytes.

Big Band With Love

Big Band with Love
Charles Tolliver
Blue Note/Mosaic Records

Actors yearn to direct according to the old cliché. Leading a big band seems to hold a similar allure for jazz musicians, regardless of the accolades they may have already attained in their careers. Charles Tolliver did indeed lead one of the more acclaimed big bands of the 1970’s, and he was recently convinced to revive it with a multi-generational ensemble of musicians. The culminating release With Love testifies to the power of Tolliver as a trumpet soloist and as a chart writer.

Power is the key word to describe With Love. “Rejoicin’” sets the pace from the start, with Victor Lewis’ drums swinging the band, and Tolliver’s preaching solo building the intensity. The title track starts as more of a mid-tempo groover. It is a lithe swinger, featuring pungent statements from Bill Saxton and the leader, before concluding with a passage of stimulating ensemble interplay.

The sole standard in the set is Monk’s “’Round Midnight,” but Tolliver’s pen makes the familiar classic sound fresh. Tolliver’s frequent collaborator, Stanley Cowell takes a fleet solo that avoids Monk imitations, before the trumpeter takes over again on rich arrangement that blends equal parts power and delicacy.

“Mournin’ Variations,” adapted from the spirituals of James Weldon Johnson, starts with the pastoral sound of flutes and reeds, before the brass and drums come roaring in around 1:53. It is another intriguing arrangement that takes listeners through twists and turns, as Billy Harper on tenor, Stafford Hunter on trombone, and Tolliver contribute fiery solos.

From his notes to the album, it is clear Tolliver took tremendous satisfaction from “Suspicion,” as it featured his son Ched on guitar. Introduced by Cecil McBee’s bass, the addition of guitar gives “Suspicion” a funkier feel, while Tolliver trumpet solo and Lewis’ drumming build a nervous energy throughout the tune.

With Love is also notable as the first original production from Mosaic Records, the venerated reissue label, released in conjunction with their corporate cousin Blue Note Records. The resurgence of Tolliver as a big band leader and the resulting With Love attracted an impressive array of musical and production talent. Cowell and rising star Robert Glasper trade off in the piano chair. The reed section includes Harper, Saxton, Craig Handy, and Howard Johnson. Gil Noble, a well regarded broadcaster in New York (and past host of Jazz Foundation benefit concerts), contributed an introductory note. Tolliver’s muscular charts and inventive solos, and the efforts of his impressive band of musicians, make With Love a very rewarding and entertaining big band session.

Good Reviews in the News

Two rave reviews are in for rabidly anti-Israeli jazz musician Gilad Atzmon. One comes in the February IAJRC Journal (evidently hitting mailboxes a little late), and the other comes from David Duke (Democratic Underground’s latest heartthrob).

The IAJRC Journal is a labor of love for a few members, desperately soliciting contributions from the general membership, so it wouldn’t be fair to belabor their publication of the review. However, Andy Simons seriously glosses Atzmon’s politics when he suggests Atzmon’s “deeply serious CDs, mostly on ENJA, have made some way toward uniting Jewish and Arab culture.” In truth, Atzmon, the decidedly former Israeli, is not a uniter, but a divider, having chosen sides.

It turns out David Duke approves of the Atzmon’s chosen allegiance, reprinting an extended excerpt of one of Atzmon’s article on his website. Simons writes of “sharing much of Atzmon’s political and moral outlook,” but one assumes that does not extend to Atzmon’s cynical polemics on the Holocaust. Atzmon writes (and Duke approves):

“the Holocaust has become the new Jewish religion. ‘The Holocaust’ [Atzmon’s quotes] is far more than historical narrative, it indeed contains most of the essential religious elements: it has its high priests (Simon Wiesenthal, Elie Wiesel, Deborah Lipstadt, etc.) and prophets (Shimon Peres, Benjamin Netanyahu and those who warn about the Iranian Judeocide to come). It has its commandments and dogmas (‘never again’, ‘six million’, etc.). It has rituals (memorial days, Pilgrimage to Auschwitz etc.). . . Most interestingly, the Holocaust religion is coherent enough to define the new ‘antichrists’ (the Deniers) and it is powerful enough to persecute them (Holocaust denial laws)."

When playing, Atzmon has a distinctive, passionate tone. When writing polemics, that tone becomes strident. Too often writers and critics whitewash the extent of his extremism (examples here, here, here). Even if his playing moves you, his constant attempts to minimize the Holocaust and embrace the advocates of terror should give one serious pause. As for his latest "Artie Fishel" project, a mean-spirited satire of klezmer music and Jewish culture, Simons describes it as “a single listening session concept album.” Talk about a euphemistic turn of phrase.

Presidential Salute

Every year St. Peter’s remembers Lester Young, "the Prez.," around the anniversary of his death with the To Prez. with Love concert. This year was a great opportunity to hear headliners like Jimmy Heath and Lee Konitz for only $15.

Lester Young’s influence on jazz is well documented. His cool tone on the tenor saxophone contrasted with the muscular sound of his predecessor in the Fletcher Henderson band, Coleman Hawkins. It took a while to catch on, but his sound would be tremendously influential, as is well documented with artists like Stan Getz, but less acknowledged in the case of Charlie Parker.

Young would also have an enormous impact on language. If you’ve ever talked about being “cool” or had “eyes” for someone, you’re talking Lester’s lingo. Cultural images of Young persist years after his death. Dexter Gordon’s character of Dale Turner in Bertrand Tavernier’s ‘Round Midnight, was largely a composite of Bud Powell and Young. Indeed, Gordon’s scenes with Lonette McKee’s Billie Holiday inspired character have more truth to them than the entire Holiday biopic Lady Sings the Blues.

Plenty of talented musicians came out to pay tribute. Jimmy Heath played an entertaining two tune set, with the very talented Aaron Diehl on piano. Heath opened with “Polka Dots and Moonbeams,” which he said was known in Young’s lexicon as “Poker Chips.” Lee Konitz first played with his longtime colleague Dick Katz, and later returned with a young group led by Alan Ferber. Diehl also played an appealing duet with Dominick Faricnacci, of Cleveland (not Italy as WBGO’s Brian Delp first erroneously stated in his intro—close enough.)

Young died on the Ides of March, so the To Prez concert is typically the Sunday before. This year, we were not helped by the new D.S.T. and that lost hour of sleep—I took off by 9:30 before the festivities moved out of the sanctuary. Is this really saving energy, compared to time spent downloading patches and the like?

What Buddy Bolden Says

The Jazz Foundation of America has mailer out announcing the 6th Annual Great Night in Harlem benefit concert. It will be May 17th, presumably in the Apollo Theater again. As their key art they use of the most famous photos in jazz—a rare surviving photo of Buddy Bolden, the first jazz musician.

Bolden could have used the help of an organization like the Jazz Foundation. After blazing through the New Orleans music scene with a legendarily strong cornet tone, he was consumed by his mental torments, spending the last years of his institutionalized. Years later, we remain fascinated by Bolden even though we have no idea what he really sounded like, as he never recorded. Of course, legends persist of an early cylinder he is rumored to have recorded—the jazz equivalent of the Holy Grail, Lost Ark, and the missing reel of Orson Welles’ Magnificent Ambersons, all in one.

Bolden has become more legend than fact, with apocryphal stories of him as the owner a barbershop and publisher of a tabloid called The Cricket, becoming accepted lore. However, Donald M. Marquis could find no evidence of either the shop or the broadsheet when researching his definite biography In Search of Buddy Bolden.

Both fabled avocations figure into Michael Ondaatje’s Buddy Bolden novel Coming Through Slaughter, which was adapted for the stage in Germany. The music featuring Dietrich Geese, Wolfgang Schmidtke, and Otto Beatus (none of whom I know anything about) among others, is actually pretty good, but presumably the script echoed mythical elements of Ondaatje’s book. Wynton Marsalis (him again) is involved with a Bolden film currently filming in North Carolina, which should continue to keep images of jazz’s Adam in our consciousness.

For some reason we remain fascinated with Bolden, the legendary Gabriel, whose horn could be heard all the way across town, only to be laid low by his inner demons. He is in many ways an apt symbol for what the Jazz Foundation does. See you May 17th uptown.

Citizen Wynton

There is no more cutting insult for Marsalis than the word “minstrelsy.” He applies it repeatedly to hip-hop culture in an interview with Bill Milkowski in the April Jazz Times. With From the Plantation to the Penitentiary, his most explicitly political CD in several years releasing this week, Marsalis is front-and-center in the jazz magazines.

Despite the feature stories, the reviews of Penitentiary, have been mixed (JT) to negative (DB). The lyrics Marsalis wrote, particularly his rap on “Where Y’All At?” have been particularly panned. It is an ironic turn, given the controversial response to Marsalis’ frequent criticisms of hip-hop for its vulgarity and misogyny. When Milkowski compares him to Cosby, Marsalis responds: “I was speaking out about it long before Bill Cosby.”

Marsalis seems to be a sort of Rorschach for jazz fans. They either see everything they like or dislike about the music embodied in the trumpeter. His detractors label him a neo-conservative, for his neo-classical approach to the jazz canon. In a separate JT review of the disc, Geoffrey Himes writes: “Marsalis sounds downright Republican when he attacks taxes, ‘modern-day minstrels’ and womb-vanquished dreams.’” This seems to overstate matters in what is an overall evenhanded review, particularly given the “Supercapitalism” track critiquing consumerist society.

On the subject of rebuilding his hometown, Marsalis is bluntly outspoken, yet more nuanced than one might expect. When given a cue to bash Pres. Bush, does not bite as hard as one might expect, telling Milkowski:

“it doesn’t really make a difference what party is in control. Like I said, ‘It don’t make a difference if it’s the left or the right/They’ll both get together and make your pocket light.’ Who do you want to rob you? It’s not like there’s been a big cry from the Democrats to get New Orleans right.”

Perhaps this political agnosticism is why many critics have not embraced Penitentiary and his jujitsu-like attempt to use the rap which he has scorned for years. Marsalis has never sugar-coated his opinions, so some seem to have a knee-jerk reaction to him. It is hard to argue when he blasts hip-hop for sexually objectifying women and deriding the benefits of education. Those who take issue with his every utterance seem to be harkening back to past arguments over the validity of Miles Davis’ electric years.

There is no question Marsalis is an enormously talented musician. There is also no denying he can be curtly dismissive of the styles he does not embrace, but even his harshest critics will give him credit for his educational outreach efforts. After his meteoric rise and his establishment of J@LC, Marsalis is probably the only jazz musician today for whom one name is sufficient with the general public—Wynton, like Miles. The second act of his career will probably be defined by his efforts on behalf of post-Katrina New Orleans, and may yet bring the inkblots into sharp focus.

(An ironic post to go up a day after giving credit to OutKast’s Idlewild. I can’t speak to their CDs, but the film did not have anymore adult language or sexuality than the average Hollywood release. The violence is actually presented in a moral context and the film concludes with a major character choosing his family obligations over the fast life. Whether Marsalis would enjoy the film, I would not want to guess and be wrong.)

Idlewild

Idlewild
Directed By Bryan Barber
Universal Home Video

Wynton Marsalis’ new CD is featured in prominent stories in both Jazz Times and Downbeat this month, but is later panned in the review sections of both magazines. An attempt by Marsalis to rap on a track receives particular derision. It seems hip-hop and jazz fusions are reserved by critics for the downtown scene, rather than the more swing-oriented artists like Marsalis. Indeed, OutKast’s film debut, Idlewild, received a similar critical reception for its blending of hip-hop with elements of 1930’s swing.

OutKast released their CD of hip-hop tunes from and inspired by the film. However, a soundtrack album of John Debney’s orchestral score was announced from Varese Sarabande, but never released. That was a shame, since it featured trumpet solos from jazz musician and Cuban defector Arturo Sandoval, an entertaining musician in any context. It is hard dislike a film that gives credit trumpet solos in its opening title sequence, as Idlewild does.

For jazz listeners, Idlewild has some nice moments. Sandoval and Debney’s work is best heard over the opening montage of the young Percival and Rooster, growing up into their family businesses, undertaking and bootlegging, respectively. Also entertaining are the high energy dance numbers choreographed by Tony winner Hinton Battle, featuring Rooster, played by Antwan Andre “Big Boi” Patton. His rap delivered over big band swing inspired arrangements is clearly anachronistic, but kind of fun. Frankly, even the deleted song “The Clock” is a more worthy tune than this year’s bland Oscar winning song.

Idlewild is not perfect, but Barber’s flashy and colorful visuals keep things moving effectively. OutKast’s Patton and Andre “Andre 3000” Benjamin have decent screen presence, acquitting themselves well in their acting debuts. The screenplay could have used an additional revision or two, as there are several logical gaps in the storyline. Why Rooster’s club has to rely on bootleggers for booze in 1935, two years after the end of prohibition is never really explained—must have been a dry county.

It is not perfect, but based on Idlewild, it would be interesting to see another attempt at a musical film from Barber and company. Yet in Jazz Times’ 2006 “Year in Review” they dismiss the film as “some misguided amalgam of Moulin Rouge, Chicago, Kansas City and New Jack City. As jazz fans we’re disappointed, but as hip-hop heads we’re completely heartbroken.” Why the scorn? Marsalis might be a terrible rapper, but if OutKast takes inspiration from swing instead of more “left-of-center” jazz styles, so be it. Idlewild actually mixes swing attitude with hip-hop energy into an amalgam that is more fun than they generally received credit for.

A Long Story

A Long Story
By Anat Fort
ECM 1994

The title of Anat Fort’s ECM debut refers to the story behind A Long Story’s release, starting with Fort’s pursuit of the legendary Paul Motian to play on her session. At first reluctant, the drummer was so enthusiastic about what he heard, he championed her to ECM’s Manfred Eicher. Three years later: an overnight success story is born. Not to cut a good story short, but the important thing in the long run is the music, and Fort’s A Long Story is impressive.

Story starts with the first of three variations on Fort’s “Just Now” theme. The first is a pensive trio performance, in which Fort’s graceful melody unfolds patiently, as Motian’s supportive brushwork testifies to why Fort sought him out. It is followed by another beautiful original arranged for the trio, “Morning: Good.” Here Fort shows a delicate touch on the piano, giving ample solo space to Ed Schuller on bass, but maintaining the lines of the lovely melody.

Schuller’s bass introduces “Lullabye,” a quartet feature, adding Perry Robinson on clarinet, sounding bluesier than one might expect from his freer work in the past. As a free improvisation between Fort and Robinson, “Chapter Two” is probably closer to Robinson’s free jazz roots, but the mood is playful, not abrasive.

With the second variation of “Just Now,” a thoughtful piano solo for the leader, the hues of Story turn darker. The original “Not a Dream?” is an accessible, but unsettling melody. “Rehaired” has a nervous energy, given urgency by Motian’s cymbal accents. Story finishes with the third variation of “Just Now,” this one a brief, mournful quartet.

Born in Israel, one would expect to hear international influences in Fort’s work, and there is a certain exoticism in “As Two/Something ‘Bout Camels,” which starts as a piano/clarinet duet, segueing into a feature for Robinson on ocarina.

Fort’s compositions are consistently rewarding. In addition to the stand out “Morning: Good,” Fort’s “Not the Perfect Storm” is a fascinating composition that hints at a brewing storm and flirts with turbulence, before resolving peacefully.

Throughout Story, the interplay between the musicians is striking. Fort is a very talented musician and composer. One hopes Story is the start of a long major label career for her.

(Story releases today, and Fort will be celebrating with a special performance at Birdland March 13.)

Fire Music Sans Dissent

In a telling interview with Charlie Rose, South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone told the PBS host, they only way to shock and rebel in Hollywood was to say nice things about Bush and declare themselves proud gun owners. In a liberal, one party town, that constitutes real dissent. So when John Murph’s article in the April Downbeat titled “Fire Music Renaissance,” speaks of “a surge of political dissent” it begs the question who are they dissenting from?

Profiling recent politically themed albums from the like of Vijay Iyer, Wynton Marsalis, and Soweto Kinch, Murph writes: “In the wake of such decade-defining events as the 2000 presidential election, 9/11, the Iraq war and overall war on terror, and the botched response to Hurricane Katrina, a sizeable number of jazz albums voicing sociopolitical angst have emerged.” However, throughout the piece there is not one single word spoken in favor of President Bush or the War in Iraq. This is wholly consistent with the opinions I have heard expressed at IAJE’s jazz and politics forum and other public events, like forums at Vision Fest. To qualify as dissent, your opinion must be contrary to that which prevails in your community. Again, where is the dissent in criticizing FEMA? It’s more like shooting fish in a barrel.

There are repeated suggestions that artists might be risking their careers by making politicizing statements, but as Murph concedes: “a number of the aforementioned albums were released on major labels.” Indeed, Blue Note released Marsalis’ From the Plantation to the Penitentiary, what was then Universal’s Verve label released Charlie Haden’s Not in Our Name and Savoy released Iyer & Ladd’s Still Life With Commentator, all at the time were major players on the jazz scene. One vocalist did flatly claim she had faced resistance to a song from station managers for its politicized content, and that could well be true. Of course, it is also easier to say the boss does not want to play anything political than admit you just don’t like someone’s song.

Marsalis’ Penitentiary sounds like the closest album to being legitimately controversial within the jazz community. In a sidebar, Murph describes it thusly: “The trumpeter addresses the current crisis in Black America and tackles such touchy issues of capitalism, misogyny, drug addiction and incarceration. The uncompromising piece positions Marsalis alongside other pundits such as Bill Cosby and Juan Williams.” Later in the same issue, James Hale reviews Penitentiary, giving it one star, writing “it’s so dogmatic that it puts good taste on the run.” So much for dissent in fire music.

I have not heard Penitentiary yet, so I cannot assess its artistic merit. Marsalis and all the other featured artists have a perfect right to make any statement they wish. I only take issue with applying the term “dissent” to expressions of political conformity.

The Number 701

701—that is the cruel numerology facing New Orleans. It stands for the so-numbered article of the Louisiana Code of Criminal Procedure, which springs suspects from jail or bond obligations if an indictment is not filed after sixty days. According to the Times-Picayune, the term “misdemeanor murders” is gaining currency amongst the criminal classes.

The Pic reports:

“In the eight months before the hurricane, the city released 187 people on a 701, including eight murder suspects, prosecutors’ records show. In 2006, the number of releases soared to about 3,000. And last month alone, 580 people escaped legal custody of either jail or a bond obligation only because prosecutors couldn’t pull together a case ahead of the deadline imposed by law.

‘That’s 580 people,’ said Dalton Savwoir, spokesman for [DA Eddie] Jordan’s office, when asked to repeat the figure for clarity.”

Jordan’s office has already cost the City of New Orleans, even before Katrina. In March of 2005 he was found professionally, but not personally, liable in a racial discrimination suit filed by 44 white employees of the DA’s office, fired by operatives of fellow Democrat Rep. William “Big Freeze” Jefferson, when Jordan took office. Jordan is currently appealing the verdict.

Currently, Jordan is in a finger-pointing battle with the Chief of Police, Warren Riley. Jordan accuses the cops of not filing reports and not supplying proper laboratory evidence. The NOLA PD lost their lab facilities to Katrina, and are borrowing time in other cities’ labs. A major point of contention has been Jordan’s refusal to use evidence from field kits. WWLTV reports on a city council hearing Jordan and Riley attended, at which the issue ignited:

“‘Without a lab report, the prosecutor cannot say that these are in fact the drugs that the police officer claims were taken off this individual,’ explained Jordan.

But Riley said the federal government has used the field tests, which provide on-the-spot analysis of drugs, for nearly 20 years.

‘We have tried and want to encourage Mr. Jordan to use field testing kits on these narcotics cases,’ he said.

Jordan did agree to use the tests on ‘selected’ cases, which drew groans and some boos from the crowd.”

The NOLA PD has not exactly covered itself in glory as of late, but the DA’s record is simply pathetic. Of the 162 murders that occurred in 2006, they have an effective 2 percent conviction rate, having accepted only 54 percent of cases the police have referred. Modern crime labs are a recent development. The DA’s office could also rely on old fashion stuff, like eye-witness accounts and circumstantial evidence to buttress their cases, if they had the necessary skills and experience.

The AP reported on the testimony of one of the 44 fired by Jordan’s office:

“Another white man fired by Jordan testified that he was one of the rare fingerprint and ballistics experts in the district attorney’s office. The resume of the young man who replaced him was projected onto a courtroom screen, and it showed he had little experience other than being a lifeguard and doing some office work at a law firm.”

What was an employment dispute has taken on a larger dimension. Right now, the citizens of New Orleans desperately need the greatest available expertise and talent in the DA’s office, but a jury verdict suggests they do not have it. Not surprisingly, it is a connection the old media is not making.

Based on his poor performance, many residents, including the owner of Basin Street Records, are calling for Jordan’s resignation. The situation is becoming dire and it directly affects the jazz community. Musicians Dinneral Shavers and possibly Hilton Ruiz were murdered on the streets of New Orleans, yet there is no realistic expectation of justice from Jordan’s office. 701 could make the city a magnet for those looking to pursue criminal enterprises. After all, if you do the crime, you only have to do sixty days of time.

Jazz Behind the Great Firewall of China

As of today, this site is not censored by the Chinese government, according to a search run by the very enlightening Great Firewall of China. It is either encouraging that there are billions of potential Chinese readers out there, or discouraging that nothing posted here has been flagged as objectionable. I’ll take it as a challenge.

It also sparked a frustrating search for fresh news on the Chinese jazz scene. Most articles that turn up on Google are several years old. There is for instance, a CBC article on the Golden Angle Jazz Band, which they called at the time “the one and only ‘big band’ in China.” It was also comprised of soldiers from the PLA. That does not necessarily mean they are substandard musicians. Every branch of the American armed services has a first class big band or jazz ensemble. The CBC article did seem to be lowering expectations though. There’s hasn’t been much ink on them after 2000. Did they fall out of favor with the powers that be?

Also turning up is an article by Dennis Rea surveying the Chinese jazz scene, and giving the highlights of a 1996 tour that he and a group of western experimental improvisers made of China in 1996. He saw a surge of popularity for jazz in China, which he attributed to several factors:

“One obvious reason is that the country’s entry into the global marketplace has brought freer access to imported recordings and consequently greater public awareness of jazz and other foreign musical styles. A second factor is the continued suppression of live rock music, which has driven frustrated rockers to turn to jazz, seen as a much less threatening form of musical expression by the powers that be.”

Jazz seems to occupy the same precarious position it usually does in authoritarian regimes. At times tolerated, but never secure. Evidence of such would be the closing of the jazz club The Big Easy in the Beijing suburb of Chaoyang Park by the local authorities.

There does seem to be more exchange of musical ideas. Kenny Garrett’s recent pilgrimage to China produced one of last year’s best releases, Beyond the Wall. Yet, this is the same government that is blocking websites and the free dissemination of information. Recent mentions of jazz in China Daily just confirm the jazz café scene is still viable, and they briefly profile Liu Yaun, considered by many to be the top Chinese jazz artist.

If anyone has any fresher info on the Golden Angle band or Chinese jazz in general, please send me an email. Looking ahead, The Missing Peace, an exhibit of art inspired by the Dalai Lama opens at the Rubin Museum March 16th. Posting a review probably won’t be enough to get banned in China, but it should be a good start.

Accent on the Offbeat

Accent on the Offbeat
Featuring Wynton Marsalis and Peter Martins
Kultur

Wynton Marsalis has been criticized for bringing a classical oriented repertory conception to jazz as artistic director of Jazz @ Lincoln Center. His ambitious commissions from major cultural institutions have fueled that perception of elitism and most likely not a small degree of professional envy. Accent on the Offbeat chronicles the making of one such commission, Jazz (Six Syncopated Movements) a collaboration between Marsalis and chorographer Peter Martins of the New York City ballet.

Marsalis is heard early in the film explaining the original conception:

“When we first met he said he wanted the ballet to be about American life, and that’s very easy for jazz musicians because that’s what our music is about. And the jazz musicians have never had to try to escape being American by genuflecting to deeply towards Europe or any of that. Our music is constructed from the American vernacular musics.”

Marsalis and Martins are seen as vastly different personalities. Of the two, Marsalis clearly comes off better. At first, Martins cannot seem to decide if he can deal with Marsalis’ music, or if he even likes it. When he finally starts working with it, Martins comes off as a demanding high art type, with a sizeable ego. Later, seeing Martins schmooze with Henry Kissinger in the makeup room before he and Marsalis appear on Charlie Rose will probably set a lot of teeth on edge, across a wide political spectrum.

For his part, Marsalis appears to be the one trying to make it work, well served by his laid back jazzman’s persona. When copyist Ron Carbo asks about a change Martins wanted, Marsalis slyly replies: “I’ll just play the first phrase and do a lot of smiling just giving him the impression that I’m doing what he wants me to do.” Marsalis later puts things in perspective for Carbo saying: “like my daddy always told me, learn how to work a job.”

Marsalis had a tremendous ensemble for the project, including J@LC stalwarts Herlin Riley, Victor Goines, Wessell “Warmdaddy” Anderson, as well as Wycliffe Gordon and Todd Williams, who have since left the Marsalis/J@LC band. Accent focuses on the rehearsals, so not all of the music is heard in its final, polished form. However, enough of the movements are heard to give viewers a good taste. Accent concludes with performances of two movements, starting with “‘D’ in the Key of ‘F’ (Now the Blues),” a beautiful feature for Anderson’s alto and Williams’ tenor. The jaunty “Ragtime” is also seen with its final choreography (and heard over the menu screen), showcasing Goines on clarinet and Eric Reed on piano, before Marsalis and the brass come in for some rollicking ensemble passages.

Martins’ publicist might not be happy with Accent, but give the New York City ballet its proper due. The dancers are very talented, and sound quite enthusiastic in interview segments. Accent is a consistently interesting behind-the scenes look at a major cultural production. It also very well photographed, looking great for a so-called “vérité” film. The music is available in its entirety on Marsalis’ Jump Start and Jazz.

Marsalis is frequently caricatured as argumentative and opinionated. Accent presents a different, nuanced perspective on a very public artist.

The One Year Marker

On January 29th I attended a screening of The Lives of Others, a fantastic film about life in East Berlin under the Communism. This Sunday, Lives upset the prohibitive favorite Pan’s Labyrinth to win best foreign language picture at the Oscars. I highly doubt that was indicative of the influence of this blog in Hollywood, but it arguably vindicated the aesthetic judgment of that particular post. (Of course, that was the same tin-eared Academy that gave best song to Inconvenient Truth over Dreamgirls.)

Posts have been going up here for over a year now, and I want to thank everyone who came out to mark that occasion last night. It was great to discuss music and politics with people who take both seriously. I have certainly learned much about both subjects in the course of writing here. Hopefully, others have been hipped to some new things as a result of checking out posts here.

The balance in recent months has probably shifted somewhat in favor of music over politics. That is a logical result of the dreary state of political affairs, nationally and particularly in New York. These things ebb and flow. At least New York is a constant source of rewarding sounds. Tentative upcoming release schedules suggest some great recordings are forthcoming as well, so there is much to look forward to.

Thanks for reading. Again, keep the e-mails coming, particularly the nasty-grams, as those are what my friends always get a good laugh out of them.

Pianists Flock to St. Peter’s

The jazz community came together again in St. Peter’s last night, rallying for one of their own. On this occasion some of the finest pianists in New York played an original Fazioli piano, courtesy of Klavierhaus, to benefit Larry Willis, whose house recently burned down (PR here). Willis is known as a fine jazz pianist in his own right, as well as from prominent sideman gigs with Hugh Masekela, and as a member of Blood Sweat & Tears. He also played on Eddie Gale’s A Minute for Miles (a great CD I constantly recommend).

It was an ambitious schedule of one solo pianist every ten minutes. I had to laugh when I first saw it in my e-mail. The evening did indeed start with a great performance from Mamiko Watanabe as planned, but from there the schedule was out the window. So be it. Those in attendance heard from jazz greats like Don Friedman, Geri Allen, and Mulgrew Miller. Some impressive classical performances from Ran Jia and Sachiko Kato mixed up the program nicely. Also breaking format, were performances from Willis himself, accompanying Jimmy Owens on flugelhorn. The evening ended with beautiful performances by Deanna Witkowski and Helen Sung. Actually, that’s just when it ended for me, as there were in fact two pianists left.

It was a night of great music. There was a nice audience on hand throughout, with late arrivals constantly replacing those leaving earlier, so hopefully it was successful as a fundraiser as well as artistically.

Back on the Corner

Back on the Corner
By Dave Liebman
Tone Center TC 40532

Years after his death Miles Davis continues to cast a long musical shadow, with musicians continuing to engage with his recorded legacy. Dave Liebman played on Davis’ On the Corner, an album that continues to provoke vastly disparate critical responses. As Liebman writes in the liner notes: “You don’t travel and play nightly with Miles Davis without it having a huge effect on oneself, musically as well as personally.” As an attempt to take stock of his experience with Davis, Liebman enlisted another Davis alumnus, Mike Stern, for Back on the Corner, a tribute featuring mostly Liebman originals.

While OTC had an intense, in-your-face attitude, BOTC is a more relaxed, kind groover, like the opener, “5th Street.” Stern turns up the heat though, with a fleet solo, echoing the feel of electric Miles. It is one of only two tunes featuring Liebman’s tenor, appropriately so given Davis’ increasing preference for the soprano in his later years.

Liebman switches to soprano for Davis’ “Ife,” taken as slow electric blues. Vic Juris gets the guitar honors, for some lowdown statements, before Liebman’s fiery return. Indeed, Liebman is particularly generous with the solo spotlight, giving feature track interludes to bass, drums, acoustic, and electric guitars.

The other Davis original, “Black Satin,” a funky up-tempo burner, might be closest to spirit of OTC. Again on soprano, Liebman is propelled by Marko Marcinko’s power drumming.

Liebman’s original compositions are intriguing, like the haunting “Mesa D’Espana” and the delicate “Bela.” Both use space more than one would expect in a fusion tribute and demonstrate a patience to let the music unfold to great effect. “Bela” features a nice bass solo from Tony Marino, before Stern and Juris trade off on guitar. Liebman’s soprano and flute, as well as the textures of Juris’ acoustic and Stern’s electric guitars give “Mesa” an exotic feeling, somewhat far a field from OTC, but certainly compelling.

Things come full circle with “J.B. Meets Sly/5th Street Reprise,” the concluding track that like “Black Satin,” channels the James Brown vibe which inspired Davis when he recorded OTC. Liebman on soprano and Juris and Stern on electric guitars get in plenty of pyrotechnics before taking it out.

Liebman does not try to play the way he did during his eighteen months with Davis, wisely avoiding attempts to recreate the past. BOTC does make a statement about the continuing influence of Miles Davis and presents an artistically rewarding set of the much maligned fusion genre.

Still Here After One Year

For over a year now, this has been an active link. I have been writing on jazz and other forms of music and culture from a point of view that is evidently pretty unique among jazz writers. A one year anniversary calls for some sort of celebration, so all friends and readers of J.B. Spins are invited for drinks 6:30 Tuesday, the 27th. Send me an e-mail at jb.feedback at yahoo dot com for more details. Music and politics are sure to be discussed.

Please feel free to e-mail your thoughts about anything you have read here as well. My friends at work particular enjoy the nastygrams, which I forward to them so we can all share a good laugh to break up the day. Be sure to say which posts set you off though, so I will know to write more like those.

That is a very small percentage of the feedback of course. It has been great meeting artists and other people in the industry as a result of this site. We may not agree on everything, but we all want to grow the audience for this music. Also, thanks to the bloggers who have linked here, like Gateway Pundit, Hip Hop Republican and Babalu Blog, for increasing our exposure. So thanks for reading, and cheers

Jazz in Glorious Black & White

The distinctive look of Francis Wolff’s jazz photography has made Blue Note LPs prized collectors items, defining the label for generations of fans. Wolff co-founded the label with Alfred Lion, and his photos documented sessions by many of the important artists they recorded, including Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell, and Clifford Brown. Producer Michael Cuscuna, expert in all things Blue Note, presented a brief lecture on Wolff’s photography as part of an in-store at the Apple showroom on Spring Street.

Wolff’s images are instantly recognizable for their use of light and shadow. The musicians captured by his lens seem to radiate a glow appropriate for iconography. Many of his photos were taken at the Van Gelder studio, where one might expect to find it perennially midnight, lit by flickering gaslights. One photo included in Cuscuna’s presentation showed the natural lighting of Van Gelder studio—a surprisingly well lit space.

Following Cuscuna, BN artist Jacky Terrasson performed an impressive solo set, starting with standards like “Caravan” and moving on to originals, and ending with a little barrelhouse. Terrasson has a sly wit at the keys and is an engaging performer. Evidently, Terrasson has a solo album coming in the summer, and his set was an effective preview. It was the first in-store I have attended that ended with a plug to download the artist’s albums (in this case from i-tunes, of course).

After Terrasson’s performance, those in attendance were invited to see some prints of Wolff’s photos at the Morrison Hotel, the gallery across the street co-sponsoring the event and currently exhibiting Wolff’s work. One particularly striking print is the dramatically composed shot of Andrew Hill used for Judgment, seen here without the colored tint added by BN’s longtime designer Reid Miles. From the John Coltrane of Blue Train to the Sonny Rollins of Volume 2, Wolff has produced many of the lasting images of jazz, so it is satisfying to see his images in a proper fine art context.

Town Hall Tribute to Michael Brecker

Perhaps one of the greatest challenges of fame is that it does not allow grieving to be private. Less than a month after tenor saxophonist Michael Brecker’s untimely death, his family, friends, and members of the New York jazz community gathered at Town Hall for a public memorial service. It was an exceptionally well produced event, all the more impressive for the poise and grace of his young son and the entire Brecker family.

As the family requested, there was no tenor to be heard, aside from Brecker’s on tape and video tributes. There were still several moving performances of songs associated with Brecker, including brother Randy performing “Midnight Voyage.” Pat Metheny and Dave Liebman (on flute) offered solo tributes. Harbie Hancock performed “Chan’s Song” with a trio featuring John Patitucci and Jack DeJohnette, and then backed up Paul Simon on “Still Crazy After All These Years,” on which Brecker had contributed the original tenor solo, forever intimidating Simon’s future tenor players.

There is a conception of jazz funerals rooted in New Orleans tradition, but in New York they more high church in practice. When hundreds of well-wishers crowd into Town Hall, it is an expression of their respect for the man and proof of the emotional connection they feel with his music. One hopes that is a solace to the Brecker family.

Donation info:The family requests that donations be made to the Marrow Foundation’s Time is of the Essence Fund.

Freddie Redd’s Reconnection

For seventeen months Freddie Redd led a group that included Jackie McLean playing music he composed for Jack Gelber’s Off-Broadway hit, The Connection. A film version was directed by Shirley Clarke and Blue Note released the music on LP. While Redd is an under-recorded artist deserving wider acclaim, what fame he has derives from the music from The Connection, which he revisited last night in Merkin Hall.

Steve Schwartz, the host for the concert, somewhat whitewashed the subject matter of the play, as a story of chemical addiction. It is a starkly naturalistic portrayal of a crash-pad filled with heroin addicts, being filmed by a documentary crew, as they wait for their drug connection. Some of those hanging out happen to be musicians (played by Redd and his quartet) who periodically rehearse as they cool their heels.

The concert started with Lou Donaldson, who credited the pianist for giving him his first gig in New York, sitting in with Redd and his rhythm section mates, Mickey Bass and Louis Hayes. Donaldson’s alto sounded ageless as he burned through bop standards like “Now’s the Time.” In fact it was almost more of a Donaldson concert, featuring tunes like “Whiskey Drinking Woman,” long a staple of his sets, although Redd himself did get plenty of solo space.

Before the intermission, Redd was briefly interviewed on stage. Perhaps, the most telling exchange started with Schwartz reminding Redd that Gelber’s stage instructions state: “The jazz played is in the tradition of Charlie Parker.” Redd modestly responded to the effect that he always hoped that were true.

The second set was entirely The Connection, with Donald Harrison taking over the alto duties. Hearing the now familiar themes again, it is striking how rich Redd’s compositions are, as they take unexpected twists. While Harrison was somewhat tentative on the opener, “Who Killed Cock Robin,” they would take another shot at it as a sort of encore, in which everyone locked in. Again, there was a bit of a false start on “O.D.” due to confusion with the sheet music and a personnel rotation on bass, although Louis Hayes did his best to cover it with his steady ride. Ultimately it was Redd’s show, and he did not disappoint. He has a muscular, but economical style, and his soloing is bright and compelling, not the least diminished since he first recorded these themes.

Redd now lives in California, so this was a welcome opportunity for him to reconnect with his New York roots. Many prominent musicians and industry figures came out to hear Redd’s return. Thanks to Redd, The Connection has a place of import in jazz history, despite the New York Times panning the original production as “a farrago of dirt, small-time philosophy, empty talk and extended runs of ‘cool music,’” as shrewdly quoted on the back cover of the original Grove Evergreen movie tie-in edition.

It has been produced around the world and the film is often screened at jazz festivals. I screen an excerpt in my jazz survey courses at SCPS. It was definitely a product of its time, but the music is still powerful, as proved again by Redd last night.

Pearl Harbor Jazz

Pearl Harbor Jazz: Change in Popular Music in the Early 1940s
By Peter Townsend
University Press of Mississippi
1-57806-924-6

Al Jolson remains an iconic figure for the 1927 film, The Jazz Singer. At the time, he was considered such, as jazz was used as a catch-all term for most popular music. However, codification of musical genres has essentially decreed that the most famous “jazz” movie is no longer about a jazz singer. The process of separating and insulating jazz from popular music (particularly pop vocals) lies at the heart Peter Townsend’s Pearl Harbor Jazz.

Essentially, Townsend identifies the attack on Pearl Harbor as the symbolic beginning of the schism between jazz and popular music. The advent of WWII would lead to a series of setbacks for big bands that would ultimately force all but the strongest organizations out of business. The effect of the draft on bands has been well documented, in effect bidding up the salaries of inferior musicians, as star soloists went into service. Townsend however, brings greater emphasis to the effect of gasoline and tire rationing had curtailing bands’ ability to tour, adversely affecting their income as a result. Townsend explains the further prohibitions on private buses hit African-American bands hardest:

“In the expression used in a Variety headline in the week the ban came into force, the black bands were in effect ‘Jim Crowed.’ There had been an effort by representatives of the black music community to gain special dispensation from the Office of Defense Transportation for black bands traveling in the South, but this was not granted. The bands would be forced onto other forms of transportation, but would do so at a further disadvantage, ‘Train riding isn’t easy for colored bands . . . particularly in the South, the best territory for them. Jim Crow rules on southern lines make routing a difficult task’ (Var. 6.24.42:41)) (p. 104)

As swing bands folded due to artificial economic setbacks, bebop would become the new ascendant jazz style, but it was perceived as a less commercial, more intimidating form of art music. Townsend uses Duke Ellington and Frank Sinatra as touchstones throughout Harbor. In 1943 Ellington would inaugurate jazz’s conversion to art music with his Black, Brown, and Biege concert at Carnegie Hall. In the same year, Sinatra is credited with hastening the big band demise by establishing the primacy of independent vocalists with his now mythic appearance at the Paramount Theater (which is pictured on the book jacket).

Townsend argues that artists like Ellington and Sinatra are not so easy to categorize, and that jazz and popular music had been much more intertwined than later jazz writers wish to acknowledge. Townsend further argues that bebop figures like Thelonious Monk were in fact, much more influenced by popular songwriters than is generally recognized:

“Monk had a wide, though idiosyncratic, acquaintance with the popular song and its harmonies. At the sophisticated end of the popular song harmonic vocabulary, the half-diminished chord was not unknown. Monk could have derived this chord from, among other possible examples, the song “I’m Getting Sentimental over You.” Monk was still playing and recording the song in the 1960s.” (p. 144)

Townsend seems to anticipate these arguments being received as heresy by many jazz writers, but I think he underestimates the degree to which the “Great American Songbook” rubric has legitimized and even canonized popular songwriters like Berlin, Gershwin, Harry Warren, and Vernon Duke. For instance, during a Bill Charlap set, one is more likely to hear him talk about the songwriters whose songs he interprets, than refer to the jazz artists who also have recorded those standards.

Townsend’s treatment of the bebop movement is also valuable for a revisionist examination of bop’s supposed rejection of swing music and swing figures. Probably no figure represented swing’s ostensibly regimented qualities as much as Benny Goodman. However, according to Townsend:

“[Kenny] Clarke, credited as the first bebop drummer and an original ‘rebel,’ mentioned that when Benny Goodman attended Minton’s, ‘we always got a great deal of pleasure when he came in’ and that the Minton’s band used to ‘convert our style to coincide with his.’” (p. 135)

Peter Townsend (a lecturer at Manchester Metropolitan University, not the Who guitarist, who spells the name with an “h”) has written an interesting challenge to how many people think about jazz. In effect, he asks if it was really in the music’s best interest to separate itself from popular music. As he observes, “for many musicians, the main problem with commercialism was how to get more of it.” (p. 126) Having jazz critics metaphorically stand in front of jazz clubs warning patrons if they are looking for simple entertainment they should go elsewhere certainly did not serve that end. Jazz readers may not agree with every point, but Harbor offers a fresh perspective on a pivotal period in the development of the music and may spur some interesting debates.

The Light on Synanon

A little cult awareness is always timely, and a conversation yesterday about Synanon, the controversial drug treatment center which grew into an admitted cult, prompted me to revisit The Sounds of Synanon, a jazz LP recorded by musicians in the program. I also started leafing through Dave Mitchell, Cathy Mitchell, and Richard Ofshe’s The Light on Synanon, a nonfiction account of the battle a California weekly paper waged to expose the organization’s abuses.

The album still sounds quite good. By the liner notes, it appears to be originally intended as a showcase for pianist Arnold Ross, but it was guitarist Joe Pass whose career would take off as a result. The Dowbeat editorial reprinted on the cover does not hold up as well, sounding uncomfortably defensive: “Jazz and narcotics are unfairly linked in the public mind. Addiction is rare among jazzmen and, reportedly, actually runs lower than in the medical profession.”

Early in its history Synanon is thought to have done passably well cleaning up some musicians, at least temporarily, including Pass and Art Pepper. Tragically, a jazz family would figure in Synanon’s violent downfall. Big bandleader Stan Kenton had been encouraged board his children at Synanon and stayed there a short time himself. His son Lance was essentially raised there, becoming very involved with the organization. In 1980, he and two co-defendants would plead no contest to an attempted murder charge, for stuffing a rattle snake in the mailbox of a Synanon critic. The Mitchells and Ofshe quote a disillusioned Synanon associate who saw the younger Kenton as another cult victim:

“‘Here is a kid who grew up in Synanon, one of the most bright and able.’ How can you take a young man like him, Hurst asked, and train him in violence? Now he’s charged as a would-be ‘killer’!” (p. 200)

I have yet to read Light (too much to review here), but a number of things jumped out while thumbing through. To be non-partisan, Barbara Boxer was one of the few local officials consistently willing to stand-up to the organization. Arguably, this was particularly risky for her politically given the instances cited by the authors where the organization was able to make alliances with leftwing pressure groups. Most notable were two brief but intriguing references to the United Farm Workers:

“Cathy, Richard, Art, and I met at The Light with the special agent from the Organized Crime Bureau. The night before, I had typed up a list of violent incidents involving Synanon. We had already published stories on most of them; we needed more information on the others before we could cover them in The Light. Also included were lists of Synanon attempts at intimidation and of Synanon ties to other organizations, such as Cesar Chavez’s United Farm Workers.” (p. 183)

The next reference details a press conference, where the group tried to circle the wagons:

“the purpose of the conference was to build opposition to efforts then under way to extradite [founder Charles] Dederich from Arizona to California for trial. Cesar Chavez, the Reverend Ralph Abernathy, militant black lawyer Flo Kennedy, and other celebrities friendly to Synanon had been assembled to denounce extradition, claiming it would probably kill Dederich in his weakened condition . . . Chavez, while disagreeing with Synanon’s gun purchases, commented, ‘That doesn’t mean we disagree with Chuck’s right to health.” (p. 243)

There do seem to be some lingering questions about the extent of the group’s influence. While Synanon is pretty thoroughly discredited now, there seems to be organized remnants on the web. Currently, The Light on Synanon is out of print and The Sounds of Synanon is only available as a Japanese import, if you can find it.

(Citations from The Light on Synanon. Seaview Books, New York: 1980)

Norway and All GATT Jazz

There was cool swag in the exhibit hall at IAJE this year, some of which I’m still working through. Music Export Norway actually had some of the best freebies: samplers of Norwegian artists, including some who are already well known. Nils Petter Molvaer’s “Little Indian” appears on Norway Now and Tord Gustavsen’s “Being There” is included on a full three-CD set Jazz from Norway 2006. Arguably Norway had a better conference than France, who had underwritten an extensive bistro-style sitting area on the exhibit hall, and featured several artists in the closing evening conference. Norway however, had Matthias Eick, who won the IJFO jazz award and gave one of the better concerts of the show.

It does raise questions about jazz’s place in international commerce. Presumably, Amercia has an absolute competitive advantage when it comes to jazz, as the vast majority of jazz greats and current stars have been American. Is it a comparative advantage though? Is our greatest comparative advantage in pop acts (depressing to think) perhaps, and does say Great Britain have a greater comparative advantage in rock than America?

While this is mere speculation, the commerce of culture is very serious business in Europe. France in particular has created international controversy for efforts to protect the French film industry. From the standpoint of trade politics could the generous giveaways at IAJE be construed as “dumping?” It highlights the folly of such protectionist complaints, as most in attendance were happy to get free music, American musicians included. Free exchange of artistic expression is good thing, and it benefits all artists to be exposed to a wide array of ideas and developments. Contemporary protected French cinema is a case in point.

Lee Morgan

Lee Morgan: His Life, Music and Culture
By Tom Perchard
Equinox
1-84553-205-8

Lee Morgan may not be as widely recognized as Louis Armstrong or Duke Ellington, but hardcore collectors rank him highly. For them Tom Perchard’s Lee Morgan, a biography and analysis of his music will come as a welcome publication.

Morgan is closely identified with the classic years of the Blue Note label, having recorded for them as a leader and as a member of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, as well as a sideman for other BN artists. In truth, the Val Wilmer cover photo is somewhat jarring, since Francis Wolff’s photos have largely defined the Morgan’s image for many.

While Blue Note is revered by many jazz collectors as a rare artist friendly label, Perchard takes a somewhat revisionist view. For instance, he is somewhat critical of Blue Note’s music publishing arrangements, though he does quote label co-founder Alfred Lion’s explanation in an interview with Michael Cuscuna:

“if you had the publishing, then you saved 50 per cent on what you had to pay [in royalties] on the song. And that would increase your profit margin. None of those [producers] ever thought those tunes would be worth anything; it was just a way to keep the unit cost per LP down.” (p. 73 brackets in Perchard)

As successful as Morgan was with The Sidewinder, much of his life has been obscure to his fans. For many it will be a revelation that in 1961 Morgan suffered a Chet Baker style assault targeting his teeth, and as a trumpeter, his livelihood by extension. Perchard speculates:

“Perhaps Morgan’s teeth were knocked out as punishment for this absence [from the studio while under contract to a notorious producer], a punishment after all befitting the supposed crime. Or perhaps that absence was in part due to Morgan’s teeth having been knocked out by someone else, a consequence of addiction as some associates suggested.” (p. 137)

Perchard reveals Morgan would undergo a similar assault again in 1969. As a heroin addict, like many of his colleagues, Morgan would be in close contact with unsavory characters. He would also partake of alcohol and his habits would be reflected in the titles of his compositions. “Speed Ball” would become one of his more popular tunes. Perchard also offers tantalizing reports of unknown thematically related compositions:

“Morgan had copyrighted a collection of songs, all of which went unrecorded, and all but two of which were named after drinks and drinking: ‘Bloody Mary’, ‘Liquid Breakfast’ and so on.” (p. 152)

Indeed there is much in Perchard’s book that gives fresh insight into Lee Morgan and his music. The only drawback is the periodic PC hand-wringing which intrudes into the narrative. We are treated to an introduction of Perchard pounding the mean streets of Morgan’s Philadelphia neighborhood, fretting:

“had those people known what I was doing, perhaps they would have looked over their shoulders, shaken their heads and thought to themselves that, having lost much else, they were now about to lose possession of another black memory.” (p. 4)

It is all right and proper to have sensitivity for how various communities receive your work, but Perchard should have more confidence. After all, in the almost thirty five years since Morgan’s death, he is the first to tackle the trumpeter’s biography. More to the point, restricting academic or journalistic inquiry has the effect of denying the universality of Morgan’s music, which does serve the memory of the man or his music.

Despite a Perchard’s penchant for editorializing, there is much to recommend Lee Morgan. As popular as “The Sidewinder” and his other Blue Note boogaloos had been (by jazz standards), Morgan the man has been a cipher, more so than even Miles Davis, for dearth of information. For that, Perchard’s Lee Morgan is a welcome corrective.

(Reviewed from galley.)

Grammy Prediction Recap

Aside from the occasional screen crawl, the only jazz appearances on Sunday’s Grammy telecast were the well-deserved lifetime achievement award for Ornette Coleman, and in the memorial tributes. It did seem to answer the question: just what does a jazz artist have to do to make the primetime show?

Jazz might be far from the Grammy spotlight, but I went ahead and made some predictions here in December, so it’s time to take what lumps are coming. (List of all winners & Nominees here.)

I waffled on the best contemporary jazz category, suggesting Béla Fleck and Mike Stern were the frontrunners. Fleck won.

I picked Diana Krall as the prohibitive favorite for best jazz vocal album, but averred Nancy Wilson might be a dark horse. Wilson, of course won. Maybe that’s okay for online commentary, but I’m sure the bookies wouldn’t pay on that.

Best instrumental solo—Michael Brecker on Randy Brecker’s Some Skunk Funk. Check.

Best jazz instrumental album—Chick Corea’s Ultimate Adventure. Check.

Best jazz large ensemble album—Randy Brecker’s Some Skunk Funk. Check.

Best Latin jazz album—Brian Lynch & Eddie Palmieri’s Simpático. Check.

I’d argue that’s not a bad record in the jazz categories. Random predictions in other categories did not pan out as well. In the contemporary blues category, I thought Katrina solidarity would swing it for Dr. John’s Sippiana Hericane. Instead, the New Orleans sentiment went to Irma Thomas for After the Rain. I was hoping Fred Hersch would beat out John Williams’ theme for the appeasement picture Munich in the best instrumental composition category. That didn’t happen. Not really a prediction, I wrote Grammy voters should give best classical producer award to Manfred Eicher every year. They didn’t see it that way.

Corea did take another Grammy for best instrumental arranging, and Dan Morgenstern did receive another Grammy for liner notes, so there are two more checks. I also made a mushy prediction that the best instrumental arrangement award would go to an arrangement on either a Tony Bennett or Chris Botti record. That was a safe bet.

That’s the prognostication record you get here. Make of it what you will.

Gunn Plays Miles

Russell Gunn
Plays Miles Davis
HighNote HCD 7161

Russell Gunn has a reputation as the jazz artist most successfully at integrating elements of jazz and hip-hop in a way that stays true to both idioms. While his newest CD, Russell Gunn Plays Miles Davis, is not a part of that hybridization project, it does show an affinity for Davis’ music, including, but not limited to his later, electric periods.

Gunn Plays starts with “Tutu” the title track from one of the most critically debated Miles Davis albums. The original was a studio creation with Marcus Miller laying down each track himself, allowing Davis to simply blow on top. It is interesting to hear it here, in a legitimate small group context, although Orrin Evans’ keyboards do hearken back to spirit of the original. “Tutu” is a well chosen opener, with Gunn making some eloquent statements, and Mark Kelley contributing a nice bass solo.

While Gunn eschews the Harmon mute throughout, for the most part he keeps well within classic Davis registers. On “Bitches Brew” however, he does break out the pedal for some power blowing on a free ranging performance. It is another interesting arrangement of a Davis classic originally produced for a much larger ensemble, held together by Montez Coleman’s driving drumming.

Gunn does not limit the program to electric Miles Davis repertoire, taking on several pieces from the second classic quintet, including Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints,” given a Latin groove by Coleman and percussionist Kahil Kwame Bell. With an assured solo from Gunn and rich textures from Evans on acoustic and electric piano, “Footprints” is a fine example of ensemble interplay.

Taken at a slightly faster tempo than the Kind of Blue version, “All Blues” is another kind groover thanks to the funky electric piano of Evans. It is a good feature for Gunn who shows a beautiful, bluesy tone.

The only original of the set, “New New Blues” is indeed an easy going blues, somewhat evocative of “The Theme.” Gunn, Evans, and Kelley all speak their peace before taking it out. It is a fitting closer to a strong tribute.

Gunn Plays is a well conceived thematic album. While, as the liner notes point out, this may not be Gunn’s everyday band, they sound great together, showing a high degree of compatibility. For his part, Gunn proves he can express much without burying listeners in a blizzard of notes, just like his inspiration for this session. It is a CD that may surprise some who only know Gunn for his hip-hop hybrids.

Stasi Cinema

Two recent films coming out of Germany will make ex-Stasi agents uncomfortable, and they both opened in New York this weekend. Not exactly a multi-plex picture, The Lives of Others (previewed here last week) opened on nine screens Friday, according to boxofficemojo, but with an impressive average take of $24,777 per screen. It is definitely worth searching out. Also playing a limited run at the Film Forum is the 2003 German documentary The Decomposition of the Soul directed by Nina Toussaint and Massimo Iannetta. In addition to awkwardly translated titles, both films expose the brutal tactics of the East German Stasi State Security Agency.

While Lives is a gripping fictional drama that will draw in any moviegoer giving it a chance, Decomposition is more demanding of viewers. It consists largely of tracking shots through former Stasi interrogation rooms and torture chambers as two former prisoners, Hartmut Richter and Sigrid Paul tell their harrowing stories. Filmed over ten years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, the cells and interrogation rooms still retain their oppressive menace.

Although most of the Stasi’s devices for decomposing souls described in the film were psychological and spiritual, Paul relates a chilling episode in which she is ordered to clear human blood and excrement from the floor of the “rubber room.” In recounting her experiences, Paul explained a mental defense strategy she used, visualizing a wall protecting her from her tormentors. Ironically, after the fall of the Wall, she repeatedly tried to confront one such Stasi agent, only to be told he had “walled himself off.”

The filmmakers of Decomposition succeed in conveying some sense of what it was like to be a prisoner within those particular walls. It is not pleasant. That Richter and Paul survived and were willing to return to make the film is amazing. In their flyers, Film Forum recommends seeing Decomposition and Lives in conjunction with one another. Both worthy films certainly expose the viciousness of the East German socialist state (and both films explicitly label it as such). Decomposition will be at the Forum through Feb. 13.

Hopefully, Lives is just starting a long run here in New York. It is a riveting and ultimately beautiful film.

Coming Attraction: Amazing Grace

It is popular to dismiss religion as the motivation behind all manner of war and brutality in human history. However, Amazing Grace, the new film from director Michael Apted about William Wilberforce’s long campaign the end the British slave trade makes an explicit connection between his Evangelical Christian faith and the cause of justice. While some Christian commentators have expressed concern Wilberforce’s faith would be whitewashed by the filmmakers, on screening the film, it seemed a reasonably prominent element of the drama.

The strongest element of Grace is the dramatization of the parliamentary campaign itself. Ending the slave trade was a noble pursuit, but Wilberforce and his allies still had to make their case and count the votes. Ioan Gruffudd (Mr. Fantastic to comic geeks) is appropriately intense as Wilberforce, showing the tremendous physical and emotional toll of pursuing his cause. Amongst his parliamentary allies was the crafty Charles, Lord Fox, played by the perfectly cast Michael Gambon, who gets all the best lines and delivers them with zest. Albert Finney also co-stars as John Newton, the former slave ship captain turned abolitionist minister (and composer of the hymn which titles the film).

Senegalese singer Youssou N’Dour makes his film acting debut as freed slave and abolition activist Oloudah Equiano. A vocalist of worldwide stature, Youssou N’Dour may also be familiar to jazz listeners for his appearance on Manu Dibango’s Wakafrika album and his own The Guide (Wommat) release, which featured Branford Marsalis. In a small but important role, he shows undeniable screen presence. Based on Grace, it would be great to see him in larger roles. Publishing colleagues may also enjoy the scene of Equiano’s book signing (if only more of our events were as successful).

Youssou N’Dour also contributed to the soundtrack, but by and large it consists of orchestral themes composed David Arnold. It is effective providing emotional cues, but at times transparently manipulative.

If not absolutely perfect (too many flashbacks), Grace is beautifully crafted and boasts a strong cast. Co-produced by the remarkably sane Hollywood star Patricia Heaton, Amazing Grace releases in New York on February 23rd, scheduled to coincide with the 200th anniversary of the passage of Wilberforce’s anti-slavery bill. It is worth checking out.

Music from Black Snake Moan

Black Snake Moan Soundtrack
New West Records

That’s some key art alright. Craig Brewer’s upcoming film appears to hit a lot of hot buttons, hard. However, as the story of a pious bluesman looking to reform a wayward woman, the sounds of the blues are central to the soundtrack of Black Snake Moan. The movie actually takes its title from a Blind Lemon Jefferson song, and yes, there was some double entendre there.

In many ways, the Black Snake soundtrack album concept brings to mind the Pulp Fiction OST, with snippets of dialogue included. Black Snake also goes back to the roots with two brief extracts of interviews with the legendary Son House, which really cut to the core of the blues.

Although much of the material here is licensed from other releases, some themes from Scott Bomar’s original score are included, performed by members of the North Mississippi All-Stars and harmonica virtuoso Charlie Musselwhite. Probably the best feature for Musselwhite is “The Chain,” which sounds both greasy and menacing (again, refer to cover art).

Also original to the CD are blues from lead actor Samuel L. Jackson. He is basically serviceable on “Just Like a Bird Without a Feather,” originally a R.L. Burnside tune, to whom the picture is dedicated. He is more convincing on the up-tempo juke rendition of Burnside’s Alice Mae,” but the real killer in the collection is his take on the mythic blues of “Stack-O-Lee” a.k.a. Stagger Lee. It is hard to imagine a song better suited to Jackson’s screen persona than the ballad of the stone cold killer of Billy Lyons. The combination of the driving guitar licks and Jackson’s delivery, more spoken than sung but loaded with attitude, could make this the party track of the year for those not offended by the MF’s and other assorted lyrics not Tipper Gore approved. The well sequenced disk follows this by going back to source with Burnside himself performing “Old Black Mattie.”

With tracks from Jessie Mae Hemphill, Precious Bryant, Bobby Rush, and the North Mississippi All-Stars included as well, Black Snake is nifty collection of Mississippi blues that makes with more than a nodding tribute to its historic roots. The film opens in a few weeks, so it will be interesting to see how it portrays the blues and handles its other themes. Regardless, the soundtrack CD holds up well independently of the film.

Strays on PBS

There must have been a blue moon last night, with WNET 13 actually showing jazz programming in primetime. Independent Lens’ Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life was broadcast on the New York PBS affiliate from 10:00 to 11:30 PM—still probably too late to introduce kids in school to a jazz great, but the first primetime showing for jazz on WNET in several years, none the less. (Call me a snob, but I just can’t count the Chris Botti special.)

This space has been critical of PBS and 13 for claiming to champion jazz during the broadcast of Ken Burns’ Jazz and the attendant pledge solicitations, but delivered precious little since. Terms like “bait and switch” may have been used here. So give credit to PBS and WNET for Lush Life last night.

It was a comprehensive and entertaining look at the artist so closely associated with Duke Ellington. While chronicling Strayhorn’s all too brief life, Lush Life frequently returned to the music itself. The filmmakers nicely blended archival footage with newly recorded tracks predominantly from Blue Note artists. Elvis Costello would probably be the marquee name performing, but the best matches of artist to material were Bill Charlap interpreting “Valse” and the great Hank Jones swinging his way through “China Doll.”

Obviously, Lush Life has been in the works for some time, given the original interview footage with the late Luther Henderson. It probably would have been helpful for viewers not obsessively familiar with things Ellingtonian to have some context for who the interview subjects were, but that’s a minor quibble. Overall, it was definitely worthy programming.