SOUL MAN

Dear Lafayette Gilchrist,

I want to share with you a debate I had with my friend Omar (by the way that is not his real name). I wrote a blog in September praising saxophonist David Sandborn’s new album Here & Gone. I wrote that Sandborn had mastered saxophonist Hank Crawford’s style. My observation upset Omar. Omar said Sandborn is a thief, and he profited from copying Crawford.

I disagreed. Sandborn has always acknowledged Crawford was his chief influence. I told Omar it is tough for musicians to stop playing like the musicians who influenced them. Many alto saxophonists copied Charlie Parker. I cited saxophonist Ornette Coleman as an example. To this day, Coleman still sounds like Parker, and trumpeter Wallace Roney has profited from blowing like Miles Davis. Omar and I could not see eye to eye on the matter. We decided to stop debating.

Lafayette, last year, I blogged that you sound like the late pianist Don Pullen, and Omar agreed after he listened to your solos on saxophonist David Murray’s album Scared Grounds. However, on Soul Progressin’, your new album, you have found your voice.

I noticed immediately your style changed. On the Music According to Lafayette Gilchrist (2004), Toward the Shining Path (2005) and Three (2007), you explored every inch and crevice of the piano, and bunched together many notes. That approach worked. On Soul Progressin’, you came across as a selfless front man. Your playing was precise, and you spaced out the notes you played, while encouraging your band-mates to fill up in the space.

You wanted your sidemen to get all the attention. Each of the seven tracks on Soul Progressin’ sounds as though you wrote one song for each member. Soul Progressin’ served as their official coming out party. You essentially put bass clarinetist John Dierker, tenor saxophonist Gregory L. Thompkins, alto saxophonist Gabriel Ware, trumpeters Mike Cerri and Freddy Dunn, bassist Anthony “Blue” Jenkins and drummer Nathan Reynolds in an environment where they could be uninhabited. You succeeded big time.

After I listened to Soul Progressin’, I wonder if those musicians earned their stripes playing in big bands, or if they were your friends from your hometown, Baltimore. Soul Progressin’ has a big band feel especially on cuts such as Detective’s Tip, Uncrowned, and Many Exits No Doors. The little tricks you did at the end of Detective’s Tip made the hair on my forearms, neck, knuckles and lower back dance.

Lafayette I plan to tell Omar to buy Soul Progressin’. I want to know if he also feels you have shaken your Don Pullen influence.

-Charles L. Latimer

EARL'S MELLOW TONE

Guitarist Earl Klugh Dear Earl,

Yesterday, I made a tough decision. Saxophonist Joe Lovano performed at the Michigan Theatre in Ann Arbor. Pianist Jason Moran opened for him, and bassist and vocalist Esperanza Spalding is a member of Lovano's quintet. I missed her set at the 2008 Detroit International Jazz Festival. I wanted to hear her. (In September, Jazz Times magazine published an article about her success). Drummer Jeff “Tain” Watts played at the Jazz Café’. I had to choose which concert to attend. I narrowed my choice down to your performance at Orchestra Hall and Lovano’s. Watts will play two sets tonight. If I am up to it, I can catch either the 10:00pm set or the second at 12:00am. Yesterday I mulled over which concert to attend. At 5:00pm, I finally decided to catch your set.

I purchased your new album Spice of Life last month, and I enjoyed every inch of it. Spice of Life was your first studio album in three years. "Naked Guitar" (2005) was your last album. I wondered why you stayed away so long. Before the intermission, you explained you had a beef with the brass at Warner Bros Records, which delayed the projects you had planned.

This morning I played the Spice of Life while I tidied up my home office. The music soothed me. In 2003, I took an oath. I promised myself I would be more receptive to smooth jazz. My feelings about that music changed that year after I heard saxophonist Everette Harp and keyboardist Bobby Lyle at the Idlewild Jazz Festival.

Both were members of the new Jazz Crusaders. The leader, trombonist Wayne Henderson, was the only original member. I recall Henderson strolled onto the bandstand. He wore a checker apron and a chef hat. He looked ridiculous. I was puzzled. I could not tell if Henderson was cooking barbecue before the Crusaders set started, and forgot to change. Harp and Lyle swung, and that surprised me.

Earl, I have to level with you. I never mentioned the oath to my jazz friends. You have to understand, my friends are “jazz purist,” and they hate smooth jazz. I did too, but not anymore. Smooth jazz musicians work just as hard as the musicians who prefer to play be bop, hard bop, acid jazz and free jazz. Smooth jazz artists also have loyal fans.

I attended your concert, and I enjoyed every song you played. I bet the audience awoke this morning with sore necks. They bobbed their heads nonstop for two solid hours. Earl, when you performed "Canadian Sunset" I wanted to remove my loafers, and waltz up and down the isle. On “Driftin"—the fifth song on the Spice of Life—I wanted to snuggle with the blonde-haired lady in the black evening dress with an ornate silk scarf covering her neck seated to my right, but I did not. It would have been inappropriate.

Earl, your playing was soothing and hypnotic. The devotion you showed your band-mates keyboardists Al Duncan and David Spradley, drummer Ron Otis, saxophonist Lenny Price, and bassist Al Turner impressed me.

You told the audience about their individual accomplishments, and you plugged their future projects. You were gracious; you had stagecraft; you shared the spotlight as well. That was thoughtful, indeed.

You cruised through the performance. Price and Spardley showboated some, but the audience ate it up. They cheered when Price ( a native of Inkster, MI) sashayed from the south end of the stage to the north end during his solo on "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes". When Price dropped to his knees like the godfather of soul James Brown the audience went nuts —what showmanship I thought Price had.

I was surprised when you said Spardley was a ex-member of the Parliament Funkadelic, and he wrote "Atomic Dog," one of the Funkadelic’s smash hits. Spardley looks like a soccer-dad not the kind of fellow who played in such an outlandish funk band. When he soloed, however, it was obvious he made his bones in such a band. Earl, I am glad I chose you. I wondered, however, if the people who attended saxophonist Joe Lovano’s concert had as much fun as the folks at your show.

--Charles L. Latimer

OLLIE'S SONGS

Bandleader and Saxophonist Oliver NelsonDear Oliver Nelson,

Monday I received The Blues and the Abstract Truth Take 2. Pianist Bill Cunliffe recorded the album. This was the first time I heard him. The liner notes discussed why Cunliffe made the album, but offered little about the pianist career. So, I googled him.

I discovered the pianist was born in Andover, Mass. He attended Duke University, and studied with pianist Mary Lou Williams. In 1989, he won the Thelonius Monk International Jazz Pianist Award. He toured with the Buddy Rick Big Band, and performed with Frank Sinatra. Blue and the Abstract Truth Take 2 is Cunliffe’s 14th album. After I read about Cunliffe, I did some background work on you.

I learned your brother played with trumpeter Cootie Williams. Your sister was a pianist, and you started on the sax at 11. You made six albums for Prestige. Then your classic Blues and the Abstract Truth for Impulse Records. That album increased your stock. Oliver I have to be honest. I only own two of your 18 albums Blues and the Abstract Truth, and Screamin’ the Blues, which made you 48 years ago.

You played the tenor and alto; Eric Dolphy played alto and the bass clarinet; Roy Haynes worked the drums. I bet you guys were smoking so much the neighbors called the fire department. Oliver do you know Cunliffe? Have any of your peers heard him? If not, you should get a copy of Take 2, and encourage your friends to do likewise. Cunliffe is a straight to the point pianist. As a leader, the man runs a tight ship. He kept his band on course.

Playing the songs from the original Blues and the Abstract was a huge endeavor, but Cunliffe succeeded. He made a few changes. He used a trombonist instead of a bass clarinetist. He tacked on two originals Port Authority and Mary Lou’s Blues. I wonder if your spirit was at the session coaching the band. They sounded so inspired Oliver when you buy the Take 2 pay close attention to Cunliffe’s take of Stolen Moments, and Hoe Down.

On Stolen Moments, trombonist Andy Marten and alto saxophonist Jeff Clayton cruise throughout their solos. On Hoe Down, Cunliffe, and trumpeter Terrell Stafford raced through the changes like competing in a triathlon. Oliver, I really enjoyed Blues and the Abstract Truth Take 2. I believe you will as well.

--Charles L. Latimer

COMING ATTRACTION

Mr. Rollins, please forgive me. I planned to blog about your new album Road Shows Vol. 1 last week when Doxy Records sent it to me, and after I'd listened to the album twice. But I got sidetracked. I purchased a book titled Three Wish an Intimate Look at Jazz Greats written by Pannonica de Koeningswarter. Nica, as she was known among jazz musicians who she befriended, book is loaded with photos she snapped of your peers having a good time at her house. (Thelonious Monk named Nica's pad the Cathouse because, I'm sure you already know, she owned 144 cats).

Nica's book included a few black and white photos of you. On one you’re shaved, wore a black cowboy hat. She snapped a photo of you and Thelonius Monk. You guys looked youthful. Monk was seated at a piano, and you set on a sofa nestling your tenor sax. It looked as if you were conversing with it .

I often wondered about Nica's infatuation with jazz musicians. Her granddaughter, Nadine de Koenigswarter wrote the introduction to Three Wishes. She offered some basic biographical information, but nothing any jazz enthusiast couldn't track down on the Internet. From the introduction, I gathered Nica was a bit eccentric.

Mr Rollins, let me stop yapping about Three Wishes. The book just made me feel good, and the Road Shows Vol. 1 did too. The time I alloted to blog about your album I used to write Nica a letter, expressing how Three Wishes touched me.

Mr. Rollins I listened to Road Shows Vol. 1 at least five times so far. I never rely on my first impression. I play albums over and over. I dug the Road Shows Vol. more than Without a Song: The 9/11 Concert (2005). You used most of the personnel from that date trombonist Clifton Anderson (who produced the Road Shows Vol. 1), guitarist Bobby Broom, percussionist Kimati Dinizulu, and pianist Stephen Scott.

On More Than You Know, and Tenor Madness you were vigorous as if you had something to prove. On your last live album your band shouldered the workload, particularly pianist Stephen Scott. Scott fingers raced across the keys a la pianist Bud Powell. On the Road Shows Vol. 1, you handled the manual labor.

You navigated your way through Blossom like a museum curator, proving that you're still a champion improviser.

HANGIN' AT THE CATHOUSE

Charles Mingus and Pannonica de Koenigswarter

Dear Nica,

I’m Charles L. Latimer a jazz blogger and journalist based in Detroit, MI. Yesterday I purchased a copy of your book Three Wishes an Intimate Look at Jazz Greats from Barnes and Noble in Grosse Pointe, MI. I read the book today. What I novel idea to ask jazz greats such as Thelonius Monk, Barry Harris, Anita O’Day, Coleman Hawkins, and many others what would they ask for if granted three wishes.

You befriended a lot of jazz musicians. They treated you like their little sister, especially Monk who you helped when his mental state worsened, and he became reclusive. You treated musicians like human beings not commodities. Monk named your pad the Cathouse because jazz musicians congregated there, and you actually owned 144 cats.

Did you name each cat after a jazz musician? If I owned a male cat I’d name it Mingus, and a feline Mary Lou. Those are catchy names I think. I want a cat, but my wife doesn’t. She loves dogs. I’m the opposite. So we’re at an impasse.

Jazz musicians hung out at the Cathouse. You snapped photos of them. It appeared to be a haven where they could unwind. I wished I could’ve been there when you photographed drummer Roy Brooks sitting at the drums in a soft leather jacket sporting a scruffy bread, and saxophonist Charlie Rouse wearing a fur coat and matching hat standing next to pianist Sonny Clark who look like a pimp down on his luck, and pianist Barry Harris snuggled up with one of your cats. The photos were just as compelling as the musician’s answers to your question.

The musicians were candid. The consensus was steady work, good health and a livable income. Duke Ellington elegantly said: “My wishes are very simple. I just want nothing but the best”. Pianist Barry Harris wanted a room with a Steinway and a good record player, where he could be alone with all the Charlie Parker and Bud Powell records. Drummer Roy Brooks wished for prosperity, happiness and three more wishes.

Some musicians were longwinded. Others were direct. After reading Three Wishes, I felt as if I personally knew each musician. Nica, your life was a dream surrounded by musicians who cherished you.

I wondered why you left Charlie Parker out. Back then, maybe Parker was in bad shape. Did you ask Bird for his three wishes? I imagined he would've answered he wanted to live a clean life.

A biographer should’ve written about your life, Nica, explaining your affinity for jazz, and why you befriended jazz musicians. I bet you had some great stories to tell. Your life seemed like an endless jam session.

Three Wishes inspired me to give you my wish list. First, the local jazz musicians I interviewed would benefit from the articles I write about their lives,

Secondly, God would allow the late pianists Teddy Harris and Harold McKinney to return to Detroit so they could resume mentoring the next generation of jazz musicians.

Lastly, I want to learn how to play the piano like Craig Taborn and Cyrus Chestnut.

--Charles L. Latimer

BRUBECK'S COOKOUT

Pianist Dave Brubeck Pianist Dave Brubeck opened the Bank of America Paradise Jazz Series 2008-2009 Thursday night at Orchestra Hall. Brubeck, 88, ambled onto the stage.He wore a fitted black tuxedo, and his hair was a little tousled. Before he made it to the piano, the capacity crowd gave him a lengthy ovation. When they settled down, he introduced the band. Then he removed one of the seat cushions from the chair planted at the piano. He dug into the piano like a hungry man at the dinner table.

He opened with two slow-tempo tunes from his current album 50 years of Dave Brubeck Live at the Monterey Jazz Festival 1957-2007. I figured that the pianist would cruise through the evening. I was wrong. On the third tune, Brubeck called an up-tempo ditty that had a flunky and bluesy feel. At that point, alto saxophonist Bobby Millitello took over.

The first set, Millitello carried the bulk of the workload. Much like Brubeck’s running buddy of the 50’s alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, Millitello played duets with himself, and played bluesy and fast tempo tunes proficiently. Millitello bent forward when he soloed as if trying to pour the music out his horn. On Brubeck’s, Koto’s Song, It seemed that Millitello played two flutes simultaneously.

The quartet performed five songs. Then they took a coffee break. Not that they needed one, but audience needed a moment to catch their breath. It was mostly seniors in attendance. They were hyped like they were at a hip hop concert.

The second set was the best. The some in the audience shouted songs they wanted Brubeck to play. Two perfumed elder ladies seated in front of me bobbed their heads like they were at a heavy metal concert when Brubeck played Paul Desmond’s classic Take Five. At one point, I thought the old dames were going dance up and down the isles.

Millitello controlled the first set, and drummer Randy Jones the second. Jones took a lengthy and well crafted solo on Take Five. He had fragments of the melody flying about like they were coming from a snow blower. The capacity crowd roared when he finished.

As for Brucbeck, he never overexerted himself. He played some pretty preludes, but he delegated the bulk of the workload to Millitello and Jones. The pianist kept pace with his band-mates. From time to time, he tried to trip them up by playing a few extra chords, but they weren’t fooled by the pianist antics.

Brubeck put on a fun show, indeed. He was spunky, humorous, and charming. He ribbed hecklers who interrupted him while he introduced tunes, and he poked fun at his band-mates, particularly Millitello. The pianist was hospitable, treating the audience like guests at a Brubeck family cookout.

SHIRLEY TAUGHT TIM TO SWING

It’s rare that I blog about a recording after only listening to it once. I’m careful never to rush to judgment. I want to offer a thorough critique, not just a knee-jerk reaction. Tim, your latest album One For Shirley-dedicated to your mentor the late organist Shirley Scott-grabbed my attention immediately. I purchased it yesterday at Street Corner Music in Beverly Hills, MI, and I played it this morning. I bobbed head, patted my feet, and snapped my fingers for 77.41 minutes straight, the length of this album.

Man, One for Shirley is a fabulous tribute album. If Scott were alive she would be proud. Not because you honored her. Mostly because of the groomed jazz musician you’ve become, which I’m sure Scott nurtured those years you played with her.

It’s nice to know there are still jazz musicians who’re sticklers about details, and who wouldn’t dare release an album until every inch of it is finely tuned. I knew you were a special when I first heard you at Hill Auditorium in Ann Arbor, MI at the Blues, Roots, Hunks and Moans concert blowing in bassist Christian McBride’s band, which motivated me purchase A Cool Blue two (1995) and Gentle Warrior (1997) superb Criss Cross Jazz released in .

I liked your command of the tenor saxophone. I also liked your spiffy demeanor. That concert happened awhile back. When I listened to your new album it was evident that you’re still meticulous. I wondered what you were up to since you released Jazz Is (2002).

After listening to One for Shirley, I figured you’d spent the last six years crafting this album because every each of it is chiseled and polished. You assembled a strong supporting cast trumpeter Terell Stafford, organist Pat Bianchi, drummer Byron Landham and percussionist Daniel G. Sadownick. They filled every each of the space you carved out for them.

Bianchi was a good choice to play the organ. His aggressive and churchy nature is akin to how Scott once wailed away. Where did you find Bianchi? On the closer, Yours Is My Heart Alone he sounded as if Scott attended the recording session and coached him.

As a rule, when I blog about a recording, I never rely on my first impression. I listen to an album over and over until I’m absolutely sure I either love it or I hate it. That changed this morning when I played One For Shirley. This album exicted. You really captured Scott. She could make you dance and cry in the same breath. This album is a fitting gesture of appreciation to the lady who taught you to swing.