Horace Parlan – At The Beeb

A lot of American musicians migrated to Europe onwards from the fifties, looking for work, recognition and a relief from the harsh conditions of American life and the stress of racial prejudice: Bud Powell, Art Taylor, Johnny Griffin, Kenny Clarke, Dexter Gordon, Ben Webster, Slide Hampton, Lucky Thompson… Most of them, eventually, returned to the US. Few settled in Europe for the rest of their lives, like Don Byas, Kenny Drew and Art Farmer.

And pianist Horace Parlan. Parlan settled down in Denmark in 1972 and still lives in the village of Rude near Copenhagen. Not only that, Parlan has been a Danish citizen for years now.

Horace Parlan suffered from polio as a child. His right hand is crippled. As a consequence, Parlan’s playing style was a rare combination of sparse, rollicking left hand lines and inventive, three-fingered right hand voicings. Check out Parlan’s singular style on a 1986 concert in Köln, Germany. (with – the typically good-natured! – Dizzy Gillespie and a particularly eloquent Clifford Jordan)

Parlan is heard on a number of classic hard and post-bop recordings, notably on tunes as Charles Mingus’ Better Git It In Your Soul and Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting. And everybody digs Us Three, one of the essential Blue Note rhythm sections consisting of Parlan, bassist George Tucker and drummer Al Harewood. Some of their best work is on Parlan’s Us Three and Speakin’ My Piece, Stanley Turrentine’s Up At Minton’s and Dexter Gordon’s Doin’ Alright.

BBC World Service visited the 84-years old pianist in 2015 for their radio broadcast series The Documentary. A widower in a nursing home, the blind, fragile and shaky-voiced Parlan has retired and talks us through his career. It’s a touching portrait.

At one time, Archie Shepp is on the phone. Checking on his pal. The conversation soon turns to music. “Did you hear any cool cats lately?”

Old friends, sticking together like book ends.

True Grit

A while ago, a friend sent me this fantastic footage on YouTube of organist Brother Jack McDuff at the Antibes Festival in France in 1964. At the time, Jack McDuff’s quartet consisted of tenor saxophonist Red Holloway, guitarist George Benson and drummer Joe Dukes. (Read the recent review of The Soulful Drums Of Joe Dukes here)

The popular organists of the sixties, like Jack McDuff, Jimmy Smith and Jimmy McGriff were both true entertainers and true musicians. They entertained but not with cheap tricks. If you played with cats like that, you had to have game. In his autobiography, George Benson tells a number of exciting and insightful stories about his time with McDuff.

Benson joined McDuff in 1963. It was his first break. Benson was still basically an r&b guitarist, dreaming of the high standard of his predecessors in McDuff’s group, Grant Green, Eddie Diehl and Kenny Burrell, but as McDuff would soon acknowledge, a ‘baaaaaad’ picker. Benson slowly but surely developed into a jazz player, absorbing the music of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers on the road, who traveled the same circuit. Plenty time to learn, because McDuff’s quartet was playing nightly for two years time around the East Coast and Mid-West.

By 1964, the group fired on all cylinders. McDuff and Joe Dukes were excellent teachers but tough customers. McDuff regularly shouted obscenities to Benson on stage, ‘if he had just the right (or wrong) amount of booze or weed.’ Joe Dukes, ‘such a magnificent drummer that there were times I thought he was one of the greatest things that ever happened to mankind’ was especially hard on the 19-year old prodigy, who alledgedly picked up too many girls for the taste of the envious drummer.

“Finally, after a particularly nasty rant, I snapped: ‘If y’all don’t lay off, I’m gonna take y’all outside and beat y’all old men up! I’m nineteen years old! Y’all can’t take me! We’re going out in the alley, right now! McDuff and Dukes just stared at me for a second, then they both pulled out switchblades. But that didn’t stop me: “I don’t care! Y’all don’t scare me! Bring your switchblades into the alley! I’ll beat y’all up anyhow!” Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed: nobody went into the alley, and nobody got beaten up. But it got them off my back.”

“In retrospect, I’m glad they stayed on my back; granted, their methods were barbaric, but for the most part, it was about making me a better musician so we’d be a better band.”

Nice story. Great music.

Larry Young – In Paris

Great news! On March 11, Resonance Records released a goldmine for fans of organist Larry Young. Larry Young – In Paris: The ORTF Recordings features live material and studio sessions that were recorded for radio broadcasting during the periods that Young lived in Paris in 1964/65. Larry Young took Hammond organ jazz beyond its church roots and the bop ethos of Jimmy Smith, adding whole tone scales and the modal inventions of John Coltrane and McCoy Tyner to a clean, articulate sound and restrained, meaningful phrasing. The result was a new and amazingly free-flowing kind of organ jazz. Young’s Blue Note albums and cooperations with guitarist Grant Green and drummer Elvin Jones are classic. The organist is best-known for his role on Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. Back in the USA at the end of 1965, Young released his masterpiece Unity.

Read about Larry Young in Paris on Resonance’s website here.
And check out the trailer here.

Larry Young - In Paris

Alive & Cookin’

Amazing how some of the elder masters keep at it. Alto saxophonist Charles McPherson (76) can be enjoyed live in Denver, Colorado on March 26 & 27, where he’ll be playing the Dazzle Restaurant and Lounge. McPherson is also one of the teachers at UC San Diego Jazz Camp, June 18-24. Beside performing and teaching, McPherson has found his way to the studio on a regular basis. McPherson’s latest album, The Journey, was released in January 2015. It finds McPherson at the top of his form.

Charles McPherson has always been a dedicated torchbearer of bebop, without lingering too much in the past. An altoist in the style of Charlie Parker, McPherson shaped a distinct personality, adding a rich, resonant alto sound to angular, blues-infested phrasing. McPherson has always displayed a particular lyrical talent for balladry. Best known for his long association with Charles Mingus during the sixties and start of the seventies, McPherson has recorded prolifically as a leader and sideman. You will find an insightful, extended biography on McPherson’s website by Donnie Norton here

You can find my review of The Quintet/Live! here. Check some of my favorite (available) moments of McPherson on YouTube:

Explorations from McPherson’s Mood
Reincarnation Of A Love Bird, with Charles Mingus, from Charles Mingus’ Blue Bird
Don’t Explain from Siku Ya Bibi

And listen to The Journey below:

Wordplay Record Covers

Considering a world of smart jazz argot and slick-dressed guys that were nicknamed Bird (Charlie Parker: well, the genius of modern music actually looked like a bum if nobody took care of his wardrobe), The High Priest (Thelonious Monk), The Baron (Charles Mingus), Tootie (Albert Heath), Klook (Kenny Clarke), Bags (Milt Jackson, in case you don’t know, it referred to the prominent pouches under his eyes) or Possum Head (Dear Mr. Donaldson, whatever they say, you look pretty handsome to me…), it isn’t a surprising fact that a serious amount of wordplay went into the design of the record album covers of the fifties and sixties. Of course, this world includes label bosses who were intent on marketing and sales. Depending on your taste, the wordplay veers between catchy or far-fetched, cool or, in retrospect, rather silly. Mostly cool and funny in my mind. Here are some examples that I found in my record collection:

Horace Silver was a spiritual guy, hence Horace-Scope, That Healin’ Feelin’ and, in the eighties, Spiritualizing The Senses and Music To Ease Your Disease. It does, doesn’t it? I wish all supermarkets would swing like the one organist Hank Marr gets his groceries from. One hell of an album by Miles Davis. But Dear Mr. Davis, what happened to your surly, existentialist attitude?

Lee Morgan points the way. Drummer Grassella Oliphant only has two albums to his name as a leader and what did they do? Take advantage of his first name!

Forget Marlboro, Chesterfield, Camel, smoke Lucky’s, right Lucky? The forrest, the forrest, the forrest’s on fire. Mann’s album cover refers to the popular action movie starring James Coburn, Our Man Flint. (the US answer to James Bond) You better watch that flute.

Try to find some yourself. It’s fun!

Chasin’ The Barry

Barry Harris, grand seigneur of bebop and one of the last direct links to the music of Bud Powell, Charlie Parker and Thelonious Monk, turns 86 years old today. Conviction and dedication, I guess, are words specifically designed for the personality of pianist and teacher Barry Harris.

Check the footage below. Harris, at 85, played the Detroit festival in 2014 and as you can see, is still going very strong. The interview bits by Brian Pace are both revealing and amusing. I also included my review of Harris’ 1962 album Chasin’ The Bird and some stunning footage of Barry Harris with the Cannonball Adderley Quintet at Newport, 1960.

See Pace Report
Read Review
See Cannonball

Mystery Man

If you’d care to take a listen to the trumpet player on Harold Land’s 1960 album The Fox without knowing the line-up, you’d undoubtly ask yourself the question: “Who the hell is this guy?! He’s brilliant.” He’s Dupree Bolton, a mystery man of modern jazz if ever there was one. On the outstanding album of tunes by Harold Land and pianist Elmo Hope – it’s a major league hard bop fest, Read the review here – Dupree Bolton, who’d appeared on the scene from nowhere, displayed chops and fireworks on par with the likes of Clifford Brown, Howard McGhee and Lee Morgan. Bolton only recorded just once after that on Curtis Amy’s Katanga (1963) – click for some great live footage here What happened to Bolton? Why did he vanish into obscurity instead of becoming a new great kid on the block? Jazz historian Ted Gioia asked the question in 2009 and did a great job finding out. Read his article here Bolton passed away in 1993.