Joe Boyd & Coleman Hawkins

I recently read Joe Boyd's autobiographical 'White Bicycles- Making Music in the 1960s' (Serpents Tail). Boyd's best known for his involvement with Nick Drake, the folk-rock scene and for founding Hannibal Records, but he has some interesting and amusing things to say about the sixties jazz world. I thoroughly recommend it.

As ayoung man he worked for George Wein at the Newport Jazz Festival- his anecdote about Wein's encounter with Elvin Jones is worth the price of the book alone- & later in London arranged recording sessions for Chris McGregor, Dudu Pukwana and the other exiles from South Africa. But it's his involvement with Coleman Hawkins that sparked most memories for me.

Part of his work for Wein was acting as tour manager for among others the Coleman Hawkins Quintet, with Harry Edison, Sir Charles Thompson, Jimmy Woode & Jo Jones. Boyd has some great stories which I won't repeat because I want you to buy the book, but he doesn't mention that during the tour the band recorded 2 BBC Jazz 625 programmes in London. (The tour only gets a passing mention in John Chilton's Hawkins biography.)

In 1964 I used to buy the Melody Maker on the way to school; it was still just about worth the cover price to a jazz-lover. One day I read a short piece announcing that the BBC recording would be taking place the next day at Wembley Town Hall. We arrived ticketless after hitch-hiking from Reading but there was no trouble getting in- the hall was only half full.

Hawkins played magisterially that night; I learned from Boyd that his cognac consumption was already impressive, but he had yet to slide into his terminal decline. And I was really taken with Jo Jones' feature on Caravan- his sticks moved with such grace & his smile was so wide.

The programmes recorded that night were for a while available on VHS; I'd love a DVD copy if only to find out if the music was as good as I remember it. There's not even any of it on Youtube. As a reminder of how well the old man could play in the final years of his career I looked out some albums from that decade.

In 1960 Hawkins recorded a session for the Crown label with a boppish band: Thad Jones, Eddie Costa, George Duvivier, Osie Johnson. As Scott Yanow mentions in his AllMusic review, the themes- all credited to Hawkins on my lps, though Yanow suspects Jones & Costa may have written most- have familiar-sounding changes but resist attribution (aside from 'Shadows,' which resembles 'Under a Blanket of Blue', which Hawkins had played on a Keynote session in 1947 with Buck Clayton & Teddy Wilson, and recorded again in 1961 on The Hawk Relaxes.) Yanow describes the session as 'slightly short of essential' but it's been a favourite of mine since I bought the 2 lps on Eros (yes, another cheap label) in the '60s- one called 'Coleman Hawkins & His Orchestra', the other 'The Hawk Swings'- the two have recently been reissued on one cd as 'Moodsville' by the Barcelona-based Fresh Sound label.

Though his music was as harmonically complex as any bopper's, rhythmically Hawkins belonged to an earlier era; it's the power & urgency of his playing that makes him sound entirely at home in this context (as he did on his session with Monk & Coltrane, and the duet album with Rollins.) The whole band plays well; Thad Jones warm-toned and mercurial, Costa especially pleasing when he rumbles around in the lower register- his promising career was cut short by a car accident 2 years later. I especially like the long 'Stalking', where Costa's spare comping (on vibes and piano) helps to highlight the warm rock-solid walking bass of Duvivier and the relaxed swing of Johnson. But above all it's the gruff tone and authority of the tenor that impresses throughout.

Favourite Things (2)

I was a teenager when my brother brought home a copy of John Coltrane's 'Coltrane Plays the Blues.' We played it over and over- it took time to understand what was going on, but gradually the music became more familiar; I still played it a lot because it had become a favourite, and when I decided to start a jazz appreciation club at school, I made an approximate copy of the cover for my poster as a kind of manifesto- we wouldn't be listening to any Acker Bilk records.

That cover!- a simple collage on a purple ground,signed M Norman, with the title in lower case and the Atlantic fan at the bottom right- it was so hip, so modern; I loved it.

Blues to Elvin begins with a two-note bass figure doubled by the piano, and answered by a repeated piano phrase. Coltrane enters with such a simple phrase, three notes, a pause, four notes, then constructs a calm, beautifully idiomatic blues solo- no sheets of sound here- which manages to avoid any tired blues clichés. Tyner's solo keeps the mood, single-note lines until the chorded last chorus, raising the temperature a little before Coltrane re-enters with a more impassioned statement, reaching for high harmonics at times, but still keeping his phrasing relatively simple. Then the music subsides and is suddenly ended.

No prizes for guessing that Blues to Bechet has Coltrane on soprano. The sleevenotes by Joe Goldberg suggest that he 'hauntingly evokes Bechet' but neither tone nor phrasing bear that out. He just sounds like Coltrane on soprano playing the blues, and that's good enough for me. The track begins with a snare roll, then Coltrane enters with a phrase that's too basic to bear the weight of the epithet 'theme'. There's no piano, so you can hear more clearly than on the first track the superb Elvin Jones, relaxed and urgent at the same time, and the 'just right' bass of Steve Davis, mostly just walking. Coltrane gradually builds the tension, the phrasing becoming more sinuous, then simpler again and out, ending as it began with a snare roll. No-one else solos.

Blues to You is the track that bothered me most on first hearing. Once more no piano, once more no real theme, but what a difference! The first two tracks are both taken at a slowish lope, this one hurtles along with Coltrane stretching blues tonality to the limit on tenor. I'd never heard so abstracted a blues before, and at first it sounded as if player and instrument were involved in a wrestling match. And with Elvin effectively duetting with Coltrane- Steve Davis is really expendable on this track- there's a constant barrage of sound. Elvin takes some fours and a whole solo chorus, but they didn't come where I expected them; it was as if Coltrane just decided to stop playing.It was scary and exciting, and though I didn't really understand it, it amazed and intrigued me.

I didn't mean this to turn into a track-by track description, so I'll just say that Mr Day has some furious blowing over a bass ostinato and repeated piano pattern and a richly chordal solo by Tyner, and the closing Mr Knight again starts with a bass ostinato; when Elvin enters with a quiet drum figure you know it's going to be a great performance- a modal mid-tempo blues with Coltrane producing a cliche-free solo. Tyner's solo is beautifully relaxed and exciting.

I've left until last my favourite track from the second side, Mr Syms, where Coltrane again plays soprano. We're back with the gentle lope of Blues to Bechet, but whereas that was a straight 12-bar, Mr Syms stretches the form- it's a blues with a bridge (blues avec un pont- Bechet's sparring partner Mezz Mezzrow used to call it). The theme is 48 bars long, with a 12-bar blues as the A section, and a bridge whose melody is close to Summertime. Tyner plays a beautifully relaxed solo, just one chorus, then Coltrane plays the bridge, and the 12 bar A section once.

The cd adds 'Untitled Original' from the same sessions, but the 6 tracks of the lp sound pretty close to perfect to me.

Thinking of Blues to Bechet reminds me of a cd I heard last week for the first time, though it was issued in 2006; it's by a young saxophonist who I'd never heard before: Hugo Siegmeth. It's is on the German ACT label- Red Onions- Celebrating Sidney Bechet. Siegmeth wisely avoids the soprano, sticking to tenor and clarinet, playing songs from the length of Bechet's career. The description of the music on the ACT website is very good, so rather than repeating it I'll just point you here

Favourite Things (1)

A customer and friend suggested I should write about some of the records closest to my heart, and I'm happy to oblige. So this is the first of an occasional series; it's not in any way meant to be a 'best of' listing nor an 'essential records'- these are simply performances I would not want to be without.

Sidney Bechet: The Bechet/ Spanier Big Four

I started to listen to jazz during the British trad boom in the '60s, and much of my musical education came from listening to Peter Clayton's BBC radio jazz programme. I soon graduated to bebop & beyond (and Charles Fox) but I think it must have been on the radio that I first heard the New Orleans clarinet & soprano saxophone player Sidney Bechet.

Bechet's style was direct and imperious, and I found it thrilling; the wide, flaring vibrato that many thought excessive seemed to me to give his music an almost operatic drama; he would often try to dominate the ensemble, wresting the lead from the trumpeter, and he usually succeeded, though Wild Bill Davison faced him down on the Blue Notes they made together in the '40s.

In general he did not get on well with trumpet players; his relationship with Louis Armstrong was particularly difficult, and though the records they made together in 1923 under Clarence Williams' name are wonderful, and would be more wonderful still save for the presence of Eva Taylor, their 1940 reunion is a real disappointment. And there's a great story in John Chilton's Bechet biography concerning an Armstrong concert where Bechet was also booked to play. Bechet did not turn up, pleading illness, but was later seen jamming in a club. Armstrong's mob-connected manager sent him a note suggesting that in future he should stay out of smoky dives for the sake of his health!

Listening to the recordings Bechet and Bunk Johnson made together for Blue Note, I get the impression that Bechet held himself back, playing only clarinet rather than the more aggressive soprano sax, knowing that Bunk was scarcely playing at full strength. But the Bechet/Spanier sessions, recorded just before the reunion with Armstrong in 1940, are a rare example of Bechet choosing to cooperate with, rather than struggle against a trumpeter- or in this case cornet-player.

There are 10 sides, including 2 alternate takes, mostly around 4 minutes each; they were recorded for HRS, a pioneering independent jazz label- read the HRS story here, and issued on 12" 78s. The page also gives a link to Dan Morgenstern's excellent notes on the Bechet sessions, though he is kinder to the rather pedestrian guitar and bass work of Carmen Mastren and Wellman Braud than I would be. But it's the interplay between Spanier's forthright but relaxed cornet lead, open and muted, and Bechet's complementary sax and clarinet lines which is important, and even if Bechet had - like many other jazz improvisers- some set phrases he tended to repeat, the intensity of his playing makes them appear newly-minted. And here for once Bechet works with the lead instrument, not dominating or deferring. Listen to Sweet Sue- it opens with solo breaks, then a beautifully balanced ensemble. Bechet solos on soprano with Spanier playing quietly behind, then returns the complement during Spanier's solo. He then switches to clarinet playing chalumeau behind the guitar solo. More ensemble with Bechet still on clarinet, then back to the breaks and out. A remarkable variety of textures for a quartet, and great timeless jazz.

I first came across these sides on an Ember lp- A Tribute to Sidney Bechet, which had room for all 10 sides, but omitted One Hour and the 2 alternates in favour of 2 tracks from another HRS session featuring Rex Stewart, Lawrence Brown & Barney Bigard on leave from Duke's band. This strange decision is made worse by the claim in Bix Curtis' sleevenotes that 'this is the 1st time all the tracks have been issued on one album in this country'. The sides have been issued countless times on lp and cd, and are easy to find.

And they are proof, if such were needed, that jazz soprano playing did not begin with Coltrane or Steve Lacy.

Cecil Payne

A friend just rang me to ask if I'd heard of the death of bebop baritone player Cecil Payne at the end of November. Last year we had been in New York together, and I'd read that Payne was playing at the Kitano Hotel, a swanky mid-town joint which had started featuring jazz regularly.

Frankly, I was surprised to learn that Payne was still alive, and decided that the chance to hear him live was not to be missed, despite the fact that I'm not keen on the mid-town clubs- they're too plush and the beer's too expensive, and I resent the practice of adding your cover to the drinks bill, charging tax on it, and (I suspect) assuming you'll add a tip based on the total.
I persuaded my friend (not much of a jazz fan) to come along, hoping he would not resent a evening spent listening to an 80+ -year-old baritone player. To my delight he later told me it was the highlight of his stay.

And it was a delight; we were a little nervous when an old frail man with thick plastic glasses was wheeled onto the bandstand and his instrument was hung round his neck. The rest of the sextet, including to my great pleasure Harold Mabern on piano, assembled, and we were treated to an hour of high quality bebop. Payne's tone was secure, and though his breath came in shorter bursts his phrasing was nimble, and he did not hold back at all- he soloed as much as anyone, and took a ballad feature. It's a night I'll remember.

I know him best for his fine albums on Muse ('Yes, I think I remember that label' he told me when I thanked him after the set) and am surprised that they don't sell better; I'm playing his 'Bird Gets the Worm'- with Tom Harrell, Duke Jordan, Buster Williams and Al Foster, recorded 1976- as I type this, and find I have 3 copies in stock currently! And at least as many of his album of Charlie Parker music (with Clark Terry) issued originally on Charlie Parker Records, and reissued in the UK on countless bargain labels. When I was a teenager in the '60s those labels were all I could afford- Summit, Eros, Society (Ember were a bit more expensive)- and there was so much great music on them- the Parker Savoys, Duke Jordan's 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses', lots of Lester. Now of course I know I would be richer now if I had saved up for Blue Notes, but then I was happy to get my weekly fix.

But I digress; Cecil Payne was perhaps the first baritone player to play convincing bebop, and his big gruff tone was instantly recognisable. I was pleased to read that younger players had coaxed him out of retirement, and that he had received support from the Jazz Federation of America- http://www.guardian.co.uk/obituaries/story/0,,2219447,00.html

New York Notes

I was in NYC at the beginning of November for the record fair run annually by the listener-supported radio station WFMU. It's a big affair with hundreds of dealers, and I kid myself each year that if I buy wisely enough it will pay for the trip. And the present state of the dollar means that if I can buy for a dollar and sell for a pound, I'm happy. I'm even happier when I get to hear some good music.

It was not an outstanding year at the fair, but I picked up some good stuff, including labels like Muse and Xanadu which don't seem to be highly regarded in the US (perhaps they are too familiar) but are well-liked in Europe and Japan, probably because they were not distributed widely outside the US. They don't go for high prices, but they sell. (They also contain some great late-bop- Barry Harris, Charles McPherson, some off the most engaged Sonny Stitts.)

Muse also issued a few free jazz albums - freebop really, which is a term I know I overuse, but it describes well the range of music I love the most, with melodic freedom and a loose but steady jazz beat. A favourite Muse issue is drummer Barry Altschul's 'You Can't Name Your own Tune'(Muse MR5124) with a great band- Sam Rivers, Muhal, George Lewis (blessedly electronics-free), Dave Holland. Intense, driving music, full of surprises.

I'd planned to hear Houston Person at the Rose Centre, but when I saw that Barry was playing at one of my favourite NYC venues, the Cornelia St Cafe, I changed plans. (The night before they had featured a band playing Krysztof Komeda's music- I found out too late.) Barry's band comprised Paul Smoker (trumpet), the unknown-to-me Hayes Greenfield, alto, George Schuller, bass. Two sets of originals, and you won't be surprised to learn that they inhabited Ornette's sound-world. It was a knockout. The revelation of the night for me was the bass-playing of George Schuller, who I guess I must have heard before without really hearing - he played big fat Haden-esque notes, with no sliding or scampering- perfect.

Other highlights of the trip included: white-whiskered Ted Curson perched on a stool like a black Buddah and blowing with great fire with a young band at the Wholefoods Market on Houston & meeting the 75-year-old Yusef Lateef at the same venue, playing flute and reciting devotional poetry at the launch of his (ghosted and sadly dull) autobiography. I'd assumed that the former William Evans had adopted an Islamic name for the political reasons that inspired many hard bop and free jazz musicians; I learned from the autobiography that he had converted in 1948 and was a member of the Ahmadiyya community, which- presumably- has no problem with Lateef playing wind instruments, which are haram to many Muslims. He is certainly devout enough to have refused (gracefully, standing to make a bow) to shake the hand of a woman who bought a copy of his book.

I also went for the first time to Smoke, a club on Broadway at the southern edge of Harlem, to hear drummer Bill Stewart's quartet with David Kikoski on piano, Dwayne Burno on bass, and Seamus Blake on tenor. It was the first set of their second night at the club, and the room was full- I had to perch at the bar. The 1st half of the set was played without the bassist, who was held up in traffic. Stewart had brought a set of originals with him, but until Burno arrived, they jammed on the blues and rhythm changes. Playing such familiar material allowed Kikoski to fill in the missing bass part with a walking left hand, and they stormed through the changes with real fire.

Strangely, the same thing had happened at a gig in Nottingham shortly before I left for NYC. Pianist Kirk Lightsey, who visits the UK frequently, doesn't particularly like playing standards, and does like to play with English bassist Steve Watts and drummer Dave Wickens. (And who wouldn't?) Steve had to pull out at very short notice, and rather than substitute a bassist who didn't know Lightsey's music, they decided to manage without, adding a saxophonist who had recorded with Lightsey recently. It was close to being a disaster.

They kept to the set they had prepared, and Dave Wickens had obviously chosen to patter around on the drum kit rather than drive the band- a reasonable decision. Unfortunately the saxophonist was woefully unprepared, and the burden of holding the whole thing together fell to the pianist. Kirk is a formidable and hardworking player- you may have heard him with Chet Baker, Dexter Gordon or the cooperative band The Leaders (with Arthur Blythe)- and someone whose sheer pleasure in playing communicates itself well to the audience. By the end of the first set he was dripping with sweat from the effort, but there was a bass-shaped hole in the music.

Which made me admire David Kikoski even more.

Watch out for Empirical

Together with 3 friends, I run a jazz club in Leicester; we put on around 12-14 gigs a year, mostly in a nice old Edwardian theatre owned by the YMCA. John, a jazz drummer (who once interviewed Miles Davis, Roy Haynes, Chick Corea- but that's another story) does the accounts; Chris, an arts management teacher handles the grant applications and takes photographs, Nick- another jazz drummer and saxophonist- does the bookings and publicity; I stand at the back and sell cds, and we all do our fair share of worrying that no-one will turn up to be in the audience.



There have been plenty of gigs where we have lost money; in fact it's far easier to count the ones where we made a profit, but in all the years that Leicester Jazzhouse has been in existence, I can think of only one gig that I regret promoting because of the quality of the music. (No, of course I won't.)

I'm glad to say the really memorable ones have been more frequent; some obvious ones: Lee Konitz with John Taylor, Dave Green & Trevor Tomkins, the night with Sheila Jordan & Harvie S(wartz) when the pa broke down and so she sang without, Elton Dean's Newsense with Roswell Rudd, Evan Parker with Tony Levin.... (& the solo gig where Evan played Monk tunes)


and some less obvious: Gilad Atzmon's first gig outside London, Will Vinson, and 2 nights ago a young band called Empirical, fresh from winning the EBU award for new bands at the North Sea Jazz Festival- see http://www.myspace.com/empiricalmusic


I first heard them in Nottingham at Jazz Steps at the Bonington Theatre (the only venue I know where you can stand in the bar and look down at swimmers in the pool below.) I do a cd stall there also, so attend most of their gigs. To be honest, when I saw the band photo in the programme I anticipated hearing another identikit hard bop band; by the end of the evening I knew we had to book them. (And book them quickly; I'm sure they will soon be charging more than we can afford!)

There has been one change in personnel from the band I heard in Nottingham (and which made their debut cd on Courtney Pine's Destin-E label) but no change of direction; their roots are in hard bop- 3 of them are graduates from Gary Crosby's Tomorrow's Warriors- but crucially they have been inspired by the music of Ornette Coleman, and their Colemanesque combination of abstraction and dancing melody makes their music both intriguing and immediately engaging.

Some of their themes are perhaps a little too complex- they are young enough to sort that later-but they negociate them with a crackling confidence and with none of the 'head in the dots' stance you see at so many gigs. They play with an infectious enthusiasm and delight & look far too young to be as good as they are, showing an endearing ingenuousness when they announce a song 'inspired by David Attenborough's Blue Planet- we're all really into that.'

Catch them if you can.

From: The Blind Eye- a Book of Late Advice by Don Paterson (Faber 2007)

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