Hard bop, post-bop and free
1964 was a year of transition for mainstream jazz. The split that had occurred between the traditional hard bop and free jazz camps continued, with many top players vacillating in between the two extremes. A third alternative was beginning to sharply rise, especially among younger musicians who were yearning to experiment without completely stepping out of the realm of harmonic structure altogether, and this trend, eventually to be known under the umbrella term of "post-bop" would begin to dominate in some of the most adventurous quarters of the music, especially on the New York scene. Talented youngsters such as Wayne Shorter, McCoy Tyner, Herbie Hancock and Freddie Hubbard experimented with more and more elaborate compositions, shaking off the cobwebs of the standard 32-bar format. Probably the greatest visionary of the entire era, the magnificent multi-instrumentalist Eric Dolphy, would continue to push his unique approach to composition and improvisation, both in his position in Charles Mingus’ band, and on his own, particularly in one of the greatest masterpieces of modern music, Out to Lunch. Unfortunately, under horribly tragic conditions, this most brilliant of the new breed would not live out the year, succumbing to diabetic shock while on tour in Europe in the summer. Dolphy was an irreplaceable original, quite probably a true genius, and there is no way we can speculate how much further he would have taken his ingenious experiments had he lived longer.
As for the "free" players, the fountainhead of the movement, Ornette Coleman, was missing in action, apparently sitting the year out and woodshedding. Many of his devoted followers were hitting high points, however, particularly the mind-altering tenor player Albert Ayler, who would record one of his greatest and most lasting albums, Spiritual Unity. John Coltrane, on the other hand, showed a retreat from the more experimental camp and recorded the more modal Crescent album with his quartet, displaying even more maturity and power. By the end of a long year of intense compositional and spiritual focusing, he would enter the studio with his group to record his greatest masterpiece, A Love Supreme, though the album would not be released until 1965.
As for Miles Davis, who had been floating in a kind of a limbo of indecision for a couple of years, this was the year he finally put together what would become known as "the second great quintet." Already by February, Miles would unleash the protean power of this group at a concert at the Philharmonic, which would be recorded for release on two separate albums. A stunned audience watched as the master began re-interpreting his songbook onstage with a new level of adventure in his playing, while his young group: Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, and 19-year-old drummer prodigy Tony Williams absolutely de-constructed what was known as traditional jazz. Before the year was over, Miles would add Wayne Shorter, stealing him away from Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, to place the final piece of the puzzle in what would soon become the definitive post-bop group, and one of the greatest small jazz combos of all time.
There was much else happening in the jazz world as well. Stan Getz joined with Brazilian artist Joao Gilberto to storm the country with a new, cool bossa-nova-based style that would almost define the sound of the mid-sixties, as embodied by the hit "The Girl from Ipenema." Many musicians would follow this new form. Dave Brubeck, Bill Evans, Chet Baker, and many, many others all have stories to tell. And the great giants Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington and Count Basie were still performing to enthusiastic crowds.
While it is important not to lose sight of the fact that the world of jazz - still a popular music form in 1964 - was a wildly divergent scene, I have chosen to focus on the artists that seem to be to have carried the torch that Charlie Parker had arrived with some twenty years before, and who were creating what I feel to be the most vital, revolutionary and lasting music of the era. I know that by following my prejudices I am distorting history to some degree, but on the other hand, despite many major omissions on my part, I feel like I will be presenting the most definitive elements of what I to be the major trajectory of America’s greatest art form. Documentation aside, if I manage to introduce anyone to some of the greatest musicians of the time, along with their accomplishments to anyone, I’ll feel as if I’ve at least done some few people a valuable service.
As for the "free" players, the fountainhead of the movement, Ornette Coleman, was missing in action, apparently sitting the year out and woodshedding. Many of his devoted followers were hitting high points, however, particularly the mind-altering tenor player Albert Ayler, who would record one of his greatest and most lasting albums, Spiritual Unity. John Coltrane, on the other hand, showed a retreat from the more experimental camp and recorded the more modal Crescent album with his quartet, displaying even more maturity and power. By the end of a long year of intense compositional and spiritual focusing, he would enter the studio with his group to record his greatest masterpiece, A Love Supreme, though the album would not be released until 1965.
As for Miles Davis, who had been floating in a kind of a limbo of indecision for a couple of years, this was the year he finally put together what would become known as "the second great quintet." Already by February, Miles would unleash the protean power of this group at a concert at the Philharmonic, which would be recorded for release on two separate albums. A stunned audience watched as the master began re-interpreting his songbook onstage with a new level of adventure in his playing, while his young group: Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, and 19-year-old drummer prodigy Tony Williams absolutely de-constructed what was known as traditional jazz. Before the year was over, Miles would add Wayne Shorter, stealing him away from Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, to place the final piece of the puzzle in what would soon become the definitive post-bop group, and one of the greatest small jazz combos of all time.
There was much else happening in the jazz world as well. Stan Getz joined with Brazilian artist Joao Gilberto to storm the country with a new, cool bossa-nova-based style that would almost define the sound of the mid-sixties, as embodied by the hit "The Girl from Ipenema." Many musicians would follow this new form. Dave Brubeck, Bill Evans, Chet Baker, and many, many others all have stories to tell. And the great giants Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington and Count Basie were still performing to enthusiastic crowds.
While it is important not to lose sight of the fact that the world of jazz - still a popular music form in 1964 - was a wildly divergent scene, I have chosen to focus on the artists that seem to be to have carried the torch that Charlie Parker had arrived with some twenty years before, and who were creating what I feel to be the most vital, revolutionary and lasting music of the era. I know that by following my prejudices I am distorting history to some degree, but on the other hand, despite many major omissions on my part, I feel like I will be presenting the most definitive elements of what I to be the major trajectory of America’s greatest art form. Documentation aside, if I manage to introduce anyone to some of the greatest musicians of the time, along with their accomplishments to anyone, I’ll feel as if I’ve at least done some few people a valuable service.
Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers:
Free for All (recorded February 10, 1964)
Recorded in a single day’s session, Free For All can be seen almost as a valedictory for the hard bop style that Blakey would champion until the day he died in 1990. Both Shorter and Hubbard would soon depart, each young man hungry to conquer new musical territory, and the ferocity with which Blakey plays here (even for Blakey!) is absolutely astounding. In short, this is one of the great Blue Note sessions, played by a band that was quickly growing out of the limitations of its configuration, and playing hard, straight-ahead jazz with all their hearts and guts.
Each side of the album featured only two long cuts. The first side had Wayne Shorter compositions, the second featured one by Hubbard, plus a second arranged by him. I would say that each respective side represented a different personality, but in a Blakey band, everything is so dominated by the drive that the great drummer puts into it, and the composer/soloist is so dedicated to the punch of the hard-core punch of the music, that such distinctions are negligible at best. All four pieces are fantastic vehicles - and yes, they all have relatively straight-forward structures.
Track listing
1. "Free for All" (Shorter) - The leadoff track was, I believe, the last to be recorded at the session, and I can believe it. It seems like a musician - especially a drummer - would simply collapse after exerting this much energy. I probably have over a hundred Blakey recordings and I honestly have never heard him play this hard. And if you know how hard Blakey plays, you’ll know that’s saying quite a lot. Let’s just say he drives this band!
This Shorter composition has a standard AABA, 36-bar structure, and while the feel seems to be in 6/8, it moves quickly, and it’s easier to count in fours. It begins with two eight-bar lines of intro on piano, over a hard-pulsating bass and drums. Like one of Coltrane’s modal pieces, this preview of the A section holds steadily on one chord throughout the entire eight bars. In the intro, Walton’s left hand holds steady, while his right floats chords up in seconds to the fourth before retreating back down and repeating. The result is a churning stasis, anxious to take off, but never actually leaving the ground.
The three horns enter, in harmony, and play the theme of the first A section. They move in bluesy thirds, two phrases with a wide space left open for Blakey to fill with mad rolls and bombs. It repeats, just the same on the second A. For the eight bars of the bridge, Workman switches from 6/8 to a straight four, the horns all go into a heavy unison, Blakey drops down so there’s room to breathe, then everyone returns to the original riff for the final eight. All in all, it’s a very simple structure, but Blakey drives the whole thing so hard that it’s downright scary. And add in all those drum fills on each A, and you’ve got a hard-burning, almost-out-of-control, boiling machine.
Formally, the recording’s structure is this:
Intro: rhythm section - 16 bars (8 repeated twice)
Theme: ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each)Shorter solo - 32 bars, AABA (7 choruses) (horns on verse 3)
Fuller solo - 32 bars, AABA (4 choruses)
Hubbard solo - 32 bars, AABA (5 choruses) (horns on verse 3)
Blakey solo - 32, bars, AABA (3 choruses)
Theme: ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each)
Final chord (held)
To be rhythmically honest, I can’t tell you exactly what Blakey is playing on this piece, but there is so much action going on, I can only assume those are thundering polyrhythms I’m hearing. (Probably something to do with the tension between the 6/8 and the 4/4 beats.) At any rate, he keeps up the intensity all the way through the 11-minute performance - including on the bridges - and there are tons of rolls, fills, and bombs all the way through. (I’m no drummer, but this is simply amazing.)
Wayne Shorter no doubt dreamed up "Free for All" to no small degree so he could get a Coltrane-like workout on the "static" A sections, which stay basically on one chord while he sidewinds around like a spiraling snake. His runs are incredibly fast and furious, and even his tone reveals that he is a true disciple of the Master. This is not to say that Shorter is an "imitator." As the course of the year’s work will reveal (and certainly beyond), Wayne will definitely emerge with his own voice. But as demonstrated here, there is no question that his style is rooted in Coltrane’s. (And why the hell shouldn’t it be, if you can pull it off?) The length, the intensity and the variety of his performance gives the weight of the piece to him - at least until Blakey takes over.
In contrast, Curtis Fuller comes out punching on his trombone. As with Shorter, he uses the bridges to demonstrate just how dexterous he is with one of jazz’s most cumbersome instruments. And his tone is so rich and full!
Freddie Hubbard takes a more melodic approach, popping runs on his bright trumpet, until, on the second verse, he starts into high slides. As the other horns enter for the third verse, he’s up squealing like an elephant in the highest register. As with the others, the bridge pulls him back into more melodic territory.
For rock fans, I can only compare Blakey’s playing to a cross between Keith Moon and Bill Bonham. He’s so busy and active (especially here) that he forces the soloists to keep him from drawing all the attention - and damn does he hit the drums hard! As to his solo, I can only sit and shake my head. Like most Blakey solos, this one is epic, and once you begin to hear his voice, you’d just better hold on.
As the theme returns, you know you’ve been in a rumble. The rest of the album is great, if you still have enough energy to listen. Just wow.
2. "Hammer Head" (Shorter) - The second of Wayne’s tunes is slower, harder and tougher, like it’s got a chip on its shoulder. It’s made up of little jabs that are accented and pushed forward by Blakey’s drumming. In the bridge section, Art leans back and socks hard on the backbeat, pushing everybody forward in a cocky strut. This one is bad - in a hard-core, bluesy way. It always amazes me how purely visceral Blakey’s recordings sound. Man, they are physical! And just listen to all those rolls.
Structure:
Theme: ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each)
Shorter solo - 32 bars, AABA (2 choruses)
Hubbard solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 choruses)
Fuller solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Walton solo - 32 bars, AABA (2 choruses)
Theme: ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each)
Wayne shorter enters in big, broad strokes, then follows a little theme like chasing a mouse before stretching out his blues chops on the bridge. On his second chorus, he takes it out a bit more, going into those fast Coltrane-flurry runs. (Listen to those "sheets" on the bridge.) He winds up playing off odd notes that seem unrelated until he strings them together into a final phrase that makes perfect sense.
Hubbard enters smooth and assured, his perfect tone keeping pace with his playful ideas. He finds one little phrase he likes and repeats it an octave lower, like a playful dare. He turns bluesy, too, (and high!) at the end of the final A.
Fuller starts off relaxed, then rolls little balls of ideas into clusters, all the while keeping the punching feel of the piece moving with his horn.
Cedar Walton takes two choruses, and as this is the first time we’ve heard him solo on the album, it’s nice to sit back and enjoy the elegance of his phrasing. Not that he can’t sound tough as well - he’d rather seduce than subdue, though. His fast runs on the second verse are absolutely beautiful and smooth before finally giving in to a gut-bucket feel. Guy’s got style.
The small band just sounds huge on its return to the theme, and everybody takes it home with no coda. (Just like a prizefighter knocking you out.)
3. "The Core" (Hubbard) - Freddie Hubbard’s lone composition on the album doesn’t let things up a bit. A simple, 16-bar AA structure, the title is dedicated to the organization, Congress for Racial Equality. Like a lot of jazz from the period, this one is informed by the solidarity that many musicians felt with the Civil Rights movement. Not just here, and not just on this album, you can hear a lot of racial pride in the music of the time. (Of course, it’s always been there, but the younger musicians were making it more explicit.) This is another primarily modal piece with a hard, determined rhythm. Of the eight bars of the main theme, the first six sit on one chord (major, this time) before rounding things out on the last two. Then it simply repeats. Like a lot of the music on this album, there’s a strong sense of defiance that still sounds fresh and healthy today.
"The Core" starts out small and builds. It begins in the bass, Reggie Workman rumbling the low notes like a grass-roots uprising for four bars. Walton joins in with chords on the off-beats for the next four, followed by Blakey’s busy battle-drum snare on the next four. The final two bars feature hard single-note spikes by the horns. Hubbard’s trumpet immediately rises up and announces its theme twice over the first four bars of the first A section. It’s joined by the others in a downward motion for the next two before finally changing chords as Art drops out and Freddie takes it home, while everybody else adds their punctuation. Then they repeat the A and go right into the solos.
Structure:
Intro: building ensemble - 16 bars
Theme: Hubbard and ensemble - 16 bars, AA (8 bars each)
Shorter solo - 8 bars, A (9 choruses)
Hubbard solo - 8 bars, A (7 choruses)
Fuller solo - 8 bars, A (7 choruses)
Walton solo - 8 bars, A (5 choruses)
Theme: ensemble - 16 bars, AA (8 bars each)
Outro: Hubbard over diminishing ensemble to fade
Wayne Shorter begins the soloing again, and once again, he has a (mostly) static harmonic point around which to wrap his spirals, displaying what he has learned from his teacher. He begins with long waves, but develops quickly into faster runs that reveal his quick thinking, particularly on the last two bars of each verse, where he has to negotiate his way down the step-down chords. In between, he experiments with fragmented-note themes, twisted arpeggios, fast up & down runs and some assorted squeals and hollers. For my money, this is his best solo on the album, and the band (especially Blakey) keep things churning like mad.
Hubbard’s entry, on the other hand, shows a clear contrast, with long, melodic phrases sailing proudly in the air. He later turns to tightly wrapped, short repeating bursts that seem to unravel with a sense of defiance before flying and soaring high and long in the upper range, the victorious shout of triumphant exultation. This is powerful, propulsive music.
Fuller reaches deep here, and Blakey answers with some of his most inspired cymbal responses. The others join in, and it almost turns into a free-flow blow-away. Curtis takes control, however and rides his section fearlessly out.
Cedar Walton’s solo section is more pensive, and more repetitive, but in an effective way, as if to drive his point home all the more clearly. Even he ends big, finally, with big block chords.
Freddie returns, leading the entire ensemble with a repeat of the theme. After they finish, they keep pounding on the one pedal point, Hubbard slicing jagged little edges like knives. He finally fades away, and one by one the other players drop out, until Workman is left, the lone man at the bass again, issuing a final warning until the song comes to a close. If "The Core" resembles a battle, it is one that has been definitively been won.
4. "Pensativa" (Clare Fischer) - After all the relentless activity of the first three pieces, Free for All lightens up for its ending - a bossa nova-based composition (it was 1964) that Freddie Hubbard brought to the session. Strangely enough, it works, leaving a light-hearted, happy feeling to the end of and album that just possibly would be too "heavy" without it.
Freddie’s beautiful, clean clarion trumpet leads off the intro, while Blakey’s tapping on the side of a drum makes a good substitute for a bongo or conga. Here, we return to conventional 32-bar AABA form, but the pretty tune takes its time with some stops-and-starts, plus a bit of meandering through keys.
Structure:
Intro: Hubbard over ensemble (with Blakey at end) - 4 bars
Theme: Hubbard over ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each) (first half of B section by Fuller)
Hubbard solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Shorter solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Walton solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Theme: Hubbard over ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each) (first half of B section by Fuller)
Walton over ensemble vamping until fade
Freddie Hubbard is so magnificently versatile, and this is something we will observe throughout the entire year. You can tell that he loves this happy melody, and he bounces it all around the silvery sound of his trumpet during the theme’s statement. The piece is at a very relaxed beat, and it takes a long time for each verse to play through the full 32 bars, so each player only takes one chorus. Hubbard’s is the highlight, as kicks it off with happy slaps into the air, followed by fast, playful runs on the second A. You can tell he loves the bridge, popping off the chords like a playful kid on the beach. As he plays the final A, you can hear Blakey happily screaming at him.
Naturally, Shorter is going to take his turn more seriously, but when he gets to the second A, he goes into some ridiculously fast runs, and you can hear Blakey shout, "Blow your horn!" This apparently tickles him, as he relaxes and glides on through the rest of his solo effortlessly.
Walton really gets into the action here, which is not surprising (the tune was written by a pianist, after all), and he goes to his most expressive pitch on the album here, putting together series after series of dazzling, fast runs. He gets into some fun arpeggios on the bridge, then comes home on the final A, hopping on the rhythm with big block chords.
Freddie comes back in to repeat the whole happy theme, and the band plays on, bouncing quietly back and forth on two chords, while Walton dances over everything with mock-serious dramatic Latin chords until the recording fades out.
Free for All remains a great beginning for the year, featuring two of its biggest stars in Hubbard and Shorter. This band would record one more album together - Kyoto on the Riverside label - just ten days later! But it wouldn’t match it. Freddie Hubbard would then leave the group to put his own band together (before appearing on Eric Dolphy’s mind-blowing Out to Lunch album), and Lee Morgan would return to the fold after recording his own Search for the New Land album, on which Shorter would appear.
Straight hard bop would live on as long as Art Blakey was alive, but Free for All displays the restlessness that these extraordinary young musicians would not be able to contain in the format for much longer.
Hubbard’s entry, on the other hand, shows a clear contrast, with long, melodic phrases sailing proudly in the air. He later turns to tightly wrapped, short repeating bursts that seem to unravel with a sense of defiance before flying and soaring high and long in the upper range, the victorious shout of triumphant exultation. This is powerful, propulsive music.
Fuller reaches deep here, and Blakey answers with some of his most inspired cymbal responses. The others join in, and it almost turns into a free-flow blow-away. Curtis takes control, however and rides his section fearlessly out.
Cedar Walton’s solo section is more pensive, and more repetitive, but in an effective way, as if to drive his point home all the more clearly. Even he ends big, finally, with big block chords.
Freddie returns, leading the entire ensemble with a repeat of the theme. After they finish, they keep pounding on the one pedal point, Hubbard slicing jagged little edges like knives. He finally fades away, and one by one the other players drop out, until Workman is left, the lone man at the bass again, issuing a final warning until the song comes to a close. If "The Core" resembles a battle, it is one that has been definitively been won.
4. "Pensativa" (Clare Fischer) - After all the relentless activity of the first three pieces, Free for All lightens up for its ending - a bossa nova-based composition (it was 1964) that Freddie Hubbard brought to the session. Strangely enough, it works, leaving a light-hearted, happy feeling to the end of and album that just possibly would be too "heavy" without it.
Freddie’s beautiful, clean clarion trumpet leads off the intro, while Blakey’s tapping on the side of a drum makes a good substitute for a bongo or conga. Here, we return to conventional 32-bar AABA form, but the pretty tune takes its time with some stops-and-starts, plus a bit of meandering through keys.
Structure:
Intro: Hubbard over ensemble (with Blakey at end) - 4 bars
Theme: Hubbard over ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each) (first half of B section by Fuller)
Hubbard solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Shorter solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Walton solo - 32 bars, AABA (1 chorus)
Theme: Hubbard over ensemble - 32 bars, AABA (8 bars each) (first half of B section by Fuller)
Walton over ensemble vamping until fade
Freddie Hubbard is so magnificently versatile, and this is something we will observe throughout the entire year. You can tell that he loves this happy melody, and he bounces it all around the silvery sound of his trumpet during the theme’s statement. The piece is at a very relaxed beat, and it takes a long time for each verse to play through the full 32 bars, so each player only takes one chorus. Hubbard’s is the highlight, as kicks it off with happy slaps into the air, followed by fast, playful runs on the second A. You can tell he loves the bridge, popping off the chords like a playful kid on the beach. As he plays the final A, you can hear Blakey happily screaming at him.
Naturally, Shorter is going to take his turn more seriously, but when he gets to the second A, he goes into some ridiculously fast runs, and you can hear Blakey shout, "Blow your horn!" This apparently tickles him, as he relaxes and glides on through the rest of his solo effortlessly.
Walton really gets into the action here, which is not surprising (the tune was written by a pianist, after all), and he goes to his most expressive pitch on the album here, putting together series after series of dazzling, fast runs. He gets into some fun arpeggios on the bridge, then comes home on the final A, hopping on the rhythm with big block chords.
Freddie comes back in to repeat the whole happy theme, and the band plays on, bouncing quietly back and forth on two chords, while Walton dances over everything with mock-serious dramatic Latin chords until the recording fades out.
Free for All remains a great beginning for the year, featuring two of its biggest stars in Hubbard and Shorter. This band would record one more album together - Kyoto on the Riverside label - just ten days later! But it wouldn’t match it. Freddie Hubbard would then leave the group to put his own band together (before appearing on Eric Dolphy’s mind-blowing Out to Lunch album), and Lee Morgan would return to the fold after recording his own Search for the New Land album, on which Shorter would appear.
Straight hard bop would live on as long as Art Blakey was alive, but Free for All displays the restlessness that these extraordinary young musicians would not be able to contain in the format for much longer.
Personnel
Art Blakey - drumsCedar Walton - piano
Wayne Shorter - tenor saxophone
Freddie Hubbard - trumpet
Curtis Fuller - trombone
Reggie Workman - bass
I have included here, this remarkable video of this group performing in Italy in September 1963. Surprisingly, they do only two fast numbers, the rest being ballads, each featuring an individual member. This is a rare document of a great band, however, and any jazz lover should be delighted at seeing these great artists performing at such a high level at such young ages. (I would get to see Hubbard and Walton in person some twenty years later at the Caravan of Dreams. I would also see Art Blakey there - but by then he had a whole new batch of twenty-somethings.) Enjoy!
petey
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