Larry Kart

As fate would have it, yesterday I had this email exchange about Iyer with a musician friend (who shall be nameless here): My friend: 'I've just listened to Vijay Iyer's HISTORICITY, which recently has been getting raves galore. I've heard items by Iyer on the radio, and interviews with him as well, but this is the first CD of his I've heard. it was, as I feared beforehand, an oppressive experience. 'It's not that Iyer and his sidemen (bassist Stephen Crump, drummer Marcus Gilmore) are bad musicians; they're actually very good players. And iyer as a pianist is far better than, say, Matthew Shipp. But there's an oppressive faux-intellectualism in Iyer that really bugs me--as in "I'm the smartest guy in the room and I want you to know it!" 'The music of pianists like Bill Evans and Herbie Nichols is "intellectual," too, in very different ways, but theirs is a very unself-conscious kind; it's just who they were. With Iyer, it's in your face virtually all the time--not only in his music, but in his liner notes and even in the long list of people he thanks. He's really out to impress you. Not unlike Oscar Peterson and his endless displays of chops, but even Peterson relaxed and played ballads that showed you another (tender) side of him. When Iyer plays Bernstein's "Somewhere," there's such an emotional disconnect from the piece that you want to slap him. 'Is it just me, or does this ring true for you as well?' Me: 'I've been turned off by Iyer since the first time I heard him, though perhaps that should be, I've never been turned on by him, because my initial "this is not for me" experiences have led to little further investigation. 'Anyhow, my initial response to Iyer was the same as yours -- "oppressive," but perhaps with a slightly different slant. The faux-intellectualism I vaguely recall, but what really put me off were the busy up-front "odd" meters -- not primarily because of their air of exotica (such metrical activity is after all part of Iyer's cultural background, though IIRC he does shove it in one's face more than a little, in an extramusical socio-political manner), but because it's been my experience that a lot of upfront "odd-meter" activity in jazz is more or less a straightjacket in musical terms. Two obvious qualifications would be Don Ellis, because Ellis was Ellis, and because aside from his own solo work, the main thing there was the writing and the ensemble; and Brubeck up to a point, because Paul Desmond was his own sweet inventive self no matter what. 'Another two, and this might be more to the point, would be the somewhat related figures of Nichols and Hasaan Ibn Ali. Admiring Nichols less than I do, Martin Williams I think pointed out that Nichols didn't really improvise in what was then the normal modern jazz manner but instead essentially stated and restated the initial premises of his pieces with decorations ("decorations" being a near-insult in Martin's scheme of things), a la such Stride composer-players as Luckey Roberts and Willie The Lion Smith. Well, yes, but the overall "orchestration" of Nichol's pieces was typically both unique and beautifully balanced -- rhythm, harmony, and melody all meaningfully interactive, quite comprehensible and handsomely varied in mood, even charming at times -- and the pieces, perhaps above all, were designed to make room for vigorous interaction from the likes of Max Roach and Art Blakey. Likewise with Hasaan, though the flavor of his music is a bit more driven and narrow and might not wear as well as Nichols' does if we had a lot more of it than we do, though its drivenness and arguable narrowness is inseperable from why it's of value. 'I'll listen again to Iyer, but I just don't get much sense that there's much going on past the upfront surface metrical complexities and related foreground "patterning." I mean, there they are, to the degree that a listener of my background and ear can comprehend them, and then what? The actual performances. for me, don't seem to really go anywhere -- or they go to "energy" places I've been to many times before over the years, except that this time the seasoning is a bit different. 'BTW, my son and some of his friends were very taken with Iyer and his sometime altoist associate Rudresh Mahanthappa, at least early on, because the music of their own band of the time fell into the so-called Math Rock bag -- lots of meters that no one this side of a grad student could count. But in their music, all other things being equal (or, I suppose one should say, unequal), these odd-meter blizzards often worked out just fine because, as in so much rock of many sorts, the "surface" was, and was pretty much meant to be, the whole. Interaction between the typically overwhelming surface and other musical factors, if any, was appropriately fairly limited and formulaic -- block choral effects, if you will, rather than a situation where the actions and personality of an individual performer would be of interest. On the other hand, my son's interest in Iyer might have been in part because he always knew what the meters were right off and could hold that knowledge over my head. 'In any case, I'll listen again to what Iyer I have, though what I have does date from a few years back, and say more if I have different thoughts.' P.S. A vagrant thought I had last night. Asked about Janacek's music in one of his "conversation" books, Stravinsky said IIRC that it was "like eating a long and very stringy Czech noodle." I don't agree about Janacek, but if there are any noodle-like dishes in any Indian cuisine, that's how Iyer's music hits me.

Jim, did you just make that up?

Jim -- IMO, though you and Organissimo have your models, you also have developed your own thing, and it's of value.

Excellent account of Grant Stewart IMO. He and Walt Weiskopf are the two "in the tradition" tenormen (if WW is an "in the tradition" player) that I always check out. BTW, Stewart is in fine form (as is everyone) on board member Mike Melito's aptly titled recent album "In the Tradition" (with John Swana, tpt.; Bob Sneider, gtr.; Paul Hofmann, pno.; Neil Miner, bs.; Melito, drms.) Highly recommended. Sneider and Hofmann are Rochester, N.Y.-based players (as is Melito) who have their own things going.

When those men were in their prime(s), the sound of Hubbard, Gordon, Blakey, Rollins, Silver etc. wasn't a "traditional sound" in the sense you seem to mean. It was their sound, though it certainly didn't come from nowhere. What I want from any "in the tradition" player of today is the same sense of personal expression/my sound inventiveness that I used to get as a matter of course from the players mentioned above and many more. I don't hear it in a lot of them, but Grant Stewart is one who comes to mind. Otherwise, it is getting close to Jim Cullum time -- more or less a style, not so much a matter of personal expression/inventiveness. Also, wasn't the hard bop style built on the latter principle far more than a lot of earlier attractive jazz styles were? A nice re-creation of, say, the ensemble sound of the Hubbard-Shorter-Fuller edition of the Jazz Messengers without soloists of that quality and individuality (at least in terms of aspiration) would be kind of pointless IMO. As for Kevin's claim that Organissimo the band is "traditional" in the Jim Cullum sense -- that's not what I hear.

A fair bit of competition, but Gene Ammons' "Five O'Clock Whistle" from the album "Up Tight" (OJC)-- just one shapely swinging melody after another. What a player.

Better tell it now 'cause I'm going to watch a DVD. Trombonist gets a last-minute call to sub on a New Year's Eve gig. Afterwards the leader comes up to him and says, "Man, thanks for making it. You sightread the charts perfectly, and your solo spots were really creative. I was very impressed, and I'd like you to play the gig next year." Trombonist says: "Great. Can I leave my horn?"

Paul no doubt knows the arguably classic New Year's Eve gig trombonist story -- as do many others here, I'm sure. If pressed, I will tell it.

I think his MGM date , Five O'Clock Shadows has a better rhythm section , and is also more obscure . Don't know that one; who's on bass and drums? I also like his 1995 trio album "Yeah!" (with Chuck Berghofer and Nick Martinis) on V.S.O.P. Jolly picked nice seldom-done tunes -- e.g. on "Yeah!" Horace's title piece, George Wallington's "Variations," Al Cohn's "Ah-Moore," Zoot's "The Red Door" (familiar from numerous performances by the composer but not a piano trio item), and Shorty Rogers's "Diablo's Dance." Also, on "When Lights Are Low," there's a ridiculously swift, locked-in version of "Whistle While You Work" that is as cartoonishly amusing as it is hip.

Not sure what you mean by "quaint," 'cause I think the VV list beats the hell out of the ones at Downbeat and the other jazz rags. My only complaint is the lack of recognition of some great sounds that came from Chicago this past year. Sure, Vonski, Baba Fred, and Nicole Mitchell made the top 50, but where are Josh Berman (Old Idea), Jason Adasiewicz (Varmint), or James Falzone (Tea Music)? I'll tell you where - they're on Larry's list! And where might one find Larry's list? Nevermind. Also, through the link to the VV Jazz Poll results in my earlier post, one can find links to each voter's ballot, Francis Davis's introductory piece, etc.

Not sure what you mean by "quaint," 'cause I think the VV list beats the hell out of the ones at Downbeat and the other jazz rags. My only complaint is the lack of recognition of some great sounds that came from Chicago this past year. Sure, Vonski, Baba Fred, and Nicole Mitchell made the top 50, but where are Josh Berman (Old Idea), Jason Adasiewicz (Varmint), or James Falzone (Tea Music)? I'll tell you where - they're on Larry's list! "Old Idea" and "Varmint" are on the lists of some other people who voted in the VV poll. Not sure about "Tea Music."

http://www.villagevoice.com/2009-12-29/music/2009-voice-jazz-critics-poll-the-results/ For the second year in a row, my record remains perfect; nothing I've voted for has made the Top 10.

Interviewer asks Shelly Manne: Have you ever gone into the studio and had someone say, "I want you to sound like the guy who did the drums on ... "? Shelly Manne: I did a date with Jimmy Bowen, the song was "Fever." I had never worked with Jim, but I had made the original record of "Fever" with Peggy Lee. It actually said on my part, "play like Shelly Manne." So I played it just like I played it originally. The producer stormed out of the control room, walked over to me and and said "can't you read English? .. it says "play like Shelly Manne". When I told him I was Shelly Manne, he turned around and went back into the booth......... ........ I think he's selling cars now.

I agree on the John Williams compilation. (Williams is of course not be confused with the film and TV composer, who recorded as a jazz pianist in the late '50s on the West Coast under his given name John Towner.) BTW, our John Williams eventually moved to Hollywood, Florida, where he became a longtime public official and eventually had a park named after him: http://www.hollywoodfl.org/parks_rec/northwest_parks.htm

Randy Weston -- Piano A-La-Mode (Jubilee); now part of the Mosaic Select Pete Jolly -- When Lights Are Low (RCA) The trio side of Duke Jordan's Trio and Quintet (Signal)

Great album, but it's a quartet in numbers, concept, and execution -- Attila Zoller being handsomely present.

I take your point about "a good amount of youngish tenor players who listened/studied [branford] intently," but has jazz come to a place where one can be "a terrific player" and be "almost recognizable"? (My emphasis.) It's been my experience over the years, and my assumption (based on that experience) that perhaps excepting figures who worked almost exclusively in ensemble settings (e.g. lead trumpeters, lead alto players, etc.) in jazz every terrific player was readily recognizable as that particular player, though of course not every readily recognizable player was terrific. yeah - oops. note the time of my edit in that posting you quoted (before your response). you must've been responding while i was fixing my mistake in my post: omitting the word "instantly" before recognizable. that's a funny coincidence. anyway, i think bran is recognizable but it may take me a few bars. hence, almost instantly. i certainly don't think he's as distinct as a hodges or rollins, but for me that doesn't discount anyone from being a possible influence or a terrific player. there are gradations... Eerie that I stepped in just as you were inserting "instantly."

Yes -- without stereo (and without Kenny Washington's excellent, detailed liner notes) it might be tricky to sort out some of what was going here.

Thanks. I'll give it a try.

I take your point about "a good amount of youngish tenor players who listened/studied [branford] intently," but has jazz come to a place where one can be "a terrific player" and be "almost recognizable"? (My emphasis.) It's been my experience over the years, and my assumption (based on that experience) that perhaps excepting figures who worked almost exclusively in ensemble settings (e.g. lead trumpeters, lead alto players, etc.) in jazz every terrific player was readily recognizable as that particular player, though of course not every readily recognizable player was terrific.

Circulated among collectors - for free - over the last few years...great music. Any comment on this Amazon comment?: "This CD, like several others that have appeared recently are wonderful historical documents of rare performances by some of my all-time favorite jazz artists. However,like the recent ones featuring Clifford Brown at the Cotton Club and the one-of-a-kind home recording of Clifford Brown with Eric Dolphy, it is marred by that fact that the music plays back at least 1/2 step above proper pitch and sometimes more...." (my emphasis)

http://www.amazon.com/Drums-Around-Corner-Art-Blakey/dp/B00001ZSXM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1261770047&sr=1-1 Can't believe that I listened to this album for the first time last night and didn't even know about it until a few days ago -- it's superb and has a flavor all its own. Personnel is Blakey, Lee Morgan, Bobby Timmons, Jymie Merritt and ... Roy Haynes, Philly Joe Jones, and Ray Barretto! Obviously in the vein of "Orgy in Rhythm" et al. , the date is in one sense more jazzlike in focus (only one non-traps drummer). In another sense though this allows almost all of the frequent exotic colorations (mallets, even tympani) and rhythms to be generated by Haynes, Jones, and Blakey, which is all for the best in several ways -- first because they are the compatible percussion masters they are, second because they know that this is a meeting of masters alone and seem to be excited by (or at least highly interested in) what's going to occur. In any case, the atmosphere is electric and the mood is perforce a bit experimental, e.g. the15-plus minute version of "Moose the Mooche" begins with the four drummers "rhythmically playing the melody," as Kenny Washington puts it in his excellent liner notes -- not exactly a common thing to do, even for one drummer, and to hear Blakey, PJJ, Haynes, and Barretto work this out and make it work is something else. (It should be said BTW that Lee Morgan is on fire on this date.) I would guess that this was extremely challenging date for RVG to engineer (it was recorded at Manhattan Towers because, I assume, three drum kits would have been too much for RVG's Hackensack studio to handle), and sound quality is all one could wish for. As for mood , that seems to me to be (as I said above) experimental and questing to a quite unusual degree for a date of this time, Nov. 1958. Maybe it's my imagination, but the prominence of percussive information/intensity in a horn-plus-rhythm format virtually forecasts the feel of the vintage Impulse Coltrane Quartet, which was a fair bit down the road. As for egos, Haynes seems a bit separate from the other three in his crackling brilliance, Barretto understands that he's not part of any competition but just tastily plays fine stuff, while PJJ and Blakey do go at each other at times I think, in part because they're both in the right channel and Haynes and Barretto are in the left. On the other hand, no one does anything that's merely flashy -- going back to the experimental atmosphere that I think I detect, I'd guess that virtually all the way through no one was quite sure how things were going to work out or come off, and that they found this exciting. Finally though it seems quite clear that as loose (even wild) as thing are at times, Blakey is the undoubted leader. For one thing, the idea of the percussion-based ensemble obviously was dear to his heart; for another (and this I can only imagine) what the heck must it have been like to be Blakey (or PJJ or Haynes, for that matter), and know that your own best thoughts were going to be responded to by those other two guys? Kind of stimulating, no? Also, there are two fine duo tracks here, with Paul Chambers and Blakey, that were recorded on the same day as Sonny Clark's "My Conception" -- March, 29, 1959.

Here's a link to the NY Times obit: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/22/arts/television/22stang.html

Hey, guys -- sorry for screwing up this thread by substituting an inactive link (though you can still find the Stang obit by putting his name in the LA Times search box) and by somehow eliminating Jim's post, but this whole mess happened because I was ineptly trying to correct the thread-starter's not paying attention to board rules. We don't post entire copyrighted articles here, even if we also post a link to the original. A few sentences, then the link, and that's it. Sorry again, but nothing would have happened if the thing had been done right in the first place.

Wheels within wheels here, so bear with me. Yesterday I picked up an interesting Getz CD on (sorry) one of those European pirate labels , Gambit -- seven nice, decently recorded tracks with the Burton, Gene Cherico, Joe Hunt quartet from a Vancouver radio studio broadcast from 1965, three longish, not very well-recorded tracks from Newport 1961, with Steve Kuhn, Scott LaFaro, and Roy Haynes (LaFaro's last recording), and two tracks ("Four Brothers" and "Early Autumn") by a Getz-led big band at the Apollo Theatre in 1950. Personnel on the big band is promising (e.g. other saxes are Zoot, Don Lanphere, and Mulligan, drummer is Haynes), but those tracks are just reprises of the Herman charts, though there's a tasty Billy Taylor piano solo on "Early Autumn" in the spot where Terry Gibbs plays a vibes solo on the Capitol recording. The main reason I mention this, though, is that one of the Newport tracks is a striking tune that Getz announces as Alec Wilder's "Where Do You Go?" (recorded by Sinatra on the album "No One Cares") and takes medium-up rather than as a ballad. And the opening of the tune sounded a fair bit like "Joy Spring" to me. (It would have been nice if the Newport material had been better recorded -- the whole band was in top form, but you can't hear LaFaro much except when he's soloing, and Kuhn's sound breaks up a bit. On the other hand, on "Airegin" one can hear enough of Haynes to be fairly well astonished.) So here's the interesting part. Not having a copy of "No One Cares" and only able to listen to brief clips of Sinatra's and other performances on the Interent, I soon realized that what Getz played at Newport was not that Alec Wilder song. So what was it? Then I figured it out, and is the answer ever strange. I had the feeling that what Getz played was not a song-with-lyrics song but a jazz instrumental, albeit a lyrical one. Thinking of Stan's quintet with Raney, which played a good many originals, I thought, "Hmm -- Gigi Gryce?" And damned if it isn't Gryce's "Wildwood"! Now, Stan at Newport does announce the tune as Alec Wilder's "Where Do You Go?," so it's not just a labeling error. Did Stan confuse "Wildwood" and "Wilder" in his mind and just throw in the title of that Wilder song from Lord knows where? Also, what of the possible passing resemblance between "Wildwood" and "Joy Spring"? If so, "Wildwood" almost certainly came first, and Gryce and Clifford were friends.