He doesn’t play over the drummer—he plays with him.
Keith Richards (with Willie Nelson, Ryan Adams, Hank Williams III), “Dead Flowers,” live (TV broadcast), 2002
**********
lagniappe
I’m not here just to make records and money. I’m here to say something and to touch other people, sometimes in a cry of desperation: ‘Do you know this feeling?’
—Keith Richards, Life (2010)
*****
reading table
As the fiftieth birthday approaches, you get the sense that your life is thinning out, and will continue to thin out, until it thins out into nothing . . . . Then fifty comes and goes, and fifty-one, and fifty-two. And life thickens out again. Because there is now an enormous and unsuspected presence within your being like an undiscovered continent. This is the past.
Leon Russell loved these guys so much—both, alas, have since passed—that, in 1974, he recorded them for his Shelter label.
The O’Neal Twins
“Jesus Dropped The Charges,” live
Take 1 (Say Amen, Somebody[1982])
***
Take 2
*****
“It’s A Highway To Heaven,” live (Say Amen, Somebody [1982])
*****
“Power In The Blood,” live (TV broadcast), mid-1960s
*****
“He Chose Me,” live
*****
“He’ll Give You Peace In The Midst Of The Storm,” live, Texas (Dallas), 1981
**********
lagniappe
In a 2005 interview with the Post-Dispatch, Mr. [Edgar] O’Neal spoke about the early challenges. “We always had bookings and recordings, but when we started, black gospel was not readily accepted with the wide range it is today,” he said. “And the money wasn’t there.”
The O’Neals—with Edgar on piano and both brothers singing—challenged gospel tradition. “The main gospel thrust at the time (was) male quartets, and we were a piano group,” Mr. O’Neal said. “We were considered in a different category from the male singing groups. But then the quartets got into piano. It took some years as we stayed out there before our style took hold.”
Charles Mingus Quintet (CM, bass; Dannie Richmond, drums; Eric Dolphy, alto saxophone, bass clarinet; Clifford Jordan, tenor saxophone; Jaki Byard, piano), live (TV broadcast), Belgium, 1964
“So Long, Eric”
*****
“Peggy’s Blue Skylight”
*****
“Meditations on Integration” (excerpt)
**********
lagniappe
. . . [Mingus’s] music was pledged to the abolition of all distinctions: between the composed and the improvised, the primitive and the sophisticated, the rough and the tender, the belligerent and the lyrical.—Geoff Dyer, But Beautiful: A Book About Jazz (1996)
*****
Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity.
***
I, myself, came to enjoy the players who didn’t only just swing but who invented new rhythmic patterns, along with new melodic concepts. And those people are: Art Tatum, Bud Powell, Max Roach, Sonny Rollins, Lester Young, Dizzy Gillespie and Charles Parker, who is the greatest genius of all to me because he changed the whole era around.
***
In my music, I’m trying to play the truth of what I am. The reason it’s difficult is because I’m changing all the time.
—Charles Mingus
(Originally posted on 4/22/10.)
**********
Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Miles Davis: so many of the greatest figures in jazz weren’t just great musicians, or composers, or arrangers. They were great bandleaders. As important to their artistic success as anything else was their ability to find, and showcase, players who could make the music come alive—people like Johnny Hodges and Ben Webster and Jimmy Blanton and Lester Young and Freddie Green and Jo Jones and John Coltrane and Bill Evans and Tony Williams.
That small circle of elite bandleaders includes this man. He hired musicians who played their instruments like no one else (Eric Dolphy, Jaki Byard, et al.). He gave them a musical setting in which structure and freedom were exquisitely balanced. And together they made music that sounds (even on something familiar) like nothing else.
Charles Mingus Sextet (with Johnny Coles, trumpet; Jaki Byard, piano; Eric Dolphy, alto saxophone and bass clarinet; Clifford Jordan, tenor saxophone; Dannie Richmond, drums), “Take the A Train,” live, Norway (Oslo), 1964
**********
lagniappe
I nominate Charles Mingus one of America’s greatest composers—Ran Blake (in the liner notes to his recent album Driftwoods)
Time travel’s easy on the net. With this guy we started, the other day, with music he made just last month. Then we headed back to the ’70s. Today we go back even farther—to the ’60s.
Leon Russell, Shindig! (TV)
“Hi-Heel Sneakers,” 10/28/1964
***
“Roll Over Beethoven,” 11/18/1964
***
“Jambalaya,” 2/3/1965
(Yeah, the guy in front with the banjo—that’s Glen Campbell.)
I think that this is what everybody needs a whole lot of—not only in their playing, but in their way of living.
As far as rating this—maybe you should use a different kind of star for rating this from the stars you use rating jazz records. A moving star. Make it five moving stars.
—Charles Mingus, listening to a record by Mahalia Jackson during a Downbeat “Blindfold Test” (1960)
*****
art beat
Lee Friedlander, “Mahalia Jackson” (1956)
***
[I]t almost looks like if you could see the next second after this picture was taken that she would start to ascend.
“Oh, Lady Be Good,” “Memories of You,” live (TV broadcast [Soupy’s On, Detroit]), 1955
*****
Clifford Brown/Max Roach Quintet (Clifford Brown, trumpet; Max Roach, drums; Sonny Rollins, tenor saxophone; Richie Powell, piano; George Morrow, bass)
Live, “Get Happy”
*****
Live, Virginia (Norfolk, Continental Restaurant), 6/18/1956 (Last Concert)
“You Go To My Head”
***
“What’s New”
**********
lagniappe
Don’t take a trumpet player, man. You won’t need one after you hear this young cat, Clifford Brown.
—Charlie Parker (to Art Blakey, when he was going to work in Philadelphia in the early 1950s)
***
Out in California, we had a house, and we had a piano and vibes as well as trumpet and drums. Brownie could play all these instruments, you know. I would go out of the house and come back, and he would be practicing on anything, drums, vibes, anything. He loved music.
He was so well-rounded in all music. He liked Miles, Trane—who was very young then—and Louis Armstrong, and Lee Morgan, who spent alot of time with Clifford in Philly. Eric Dolphy was another good friend of ours. Music was his first love; I was his second, and math was his third. He was a wizard with figures and numbers; he used to play all kinds of mathematical games. . . .
There was only one time I didn’t travel with him. Our child, Clifford Jr., had been born, and I hadn’t taken him home yet to see the family. So Clifford said okay, and he put us on the plane; and of course that was when he was in the car accident and was killed. It was our second wedding anniversary and my 22nd birthday.
Today, at WKCR-FM (broadcasting from Columbia University), it’s all Brownie, (almost) all day. (This birthday celebration will be interrupted in the middle of the day for coverage of the Columbia/Yale football game.)
Newton Minow, Chair of the FCC, proclaims TV a “vast wasteland.”
1964
CBS News asks, with a straight face, what jazz “reveals” about “the nature of man” (God, too).
Lennie Tristano Quintet (Lennie Tristano, piano; Lee Konitz, alto saxophone; Warne Marsh, tenor saxophone; Sonny Dallas, bass; Nick Stabulas, drums), “Subconscious Lee,” live, New York (The Half Note), 1964, CBS TV Broadcast: Look Up and Live