The Penguin Jazz Guide (131 page)

Unlike Sidney Bechet, who reversed the traditional order and may be an ancestral influence on the Frenchman, Sclavis’s clarinet-playing is a good deal more forceful than his soprano saxophone work. His bass clarinet is particularly original, drawing little or nothing from previous models and condensing most of Sclavis’s virtues: melodic invention, timbral variation, rhythmic sophistication. The most striking track of the set is ‘Le Chien Aboie Et La Caravane Passe’, a husky duo with percussionist Ville which puns on the gypsy saying ‘the dog barks, and the caravan passes on’. But for all his interest in European folk, Sclavis considered himself unequivocally a jazz musician and a duo version of ‘Black And Tan Fantasy’ on the same record suggests the depth of his interest in redefining jazz language and ridding it of what he considers to be the tyranny of the drummer. In this, he may have been attempting to continue the work of the Jimmy Giuffre trio, shortly to reconvene and tour.

& See also
L’Imparfait Des Langues
(2005; p. 704)

JAKI BYARD
^&

Born 15 June 1922, Worcester, Massachusetts; died 11 February 1999, New York City

Piano, tenor saxophone

Phantasies

Soul Note 121075

Byard; Al Bryant, John Eckert, Roger Parrot, Jim White (t); Bob Norden, Carl Reinlib, Steve Swell, Steve Weinberg (tb); Stephen Calia (btb); Manny Boyd, Bob Torrence (as); Al Givens, Jed Levy (ts); Preston Trombly (bs); Ralph Hamperian (b); Richard Allen (d); The Apollo Stompers; Denyce Byard, Diane Byard (perc, v). September 1984, August 1988.

Jaki Byard said (1988):
‘This is a social project, but then all jazz is supposed to be a social project. I’ve been lucky, playing solo and in small groups. This was an attempt to bring in a whole community of people, to make jazz that sounds like it comes from a neighbourhood.’

In later years, Byard gave of himself selflessly as a teacher at the Hartt School (with Jackie McLean) and continued to promote his notion of jazz as an essentially social phenomenon.
Phantasies
is credited to the Apollo Stompers. There are times when the group doesn’t seem to keep up with Byard’s weather-changes of idiom or mood.

Working with Maynard Ferguson and then with Mingus gave Byard some insight into
how to steer at high speed. Without any doubt, his excellence as a section-player fed into his solo and small-group playing as well.
Phantasies
is a brawling big-band excursion with vocals from Denyce and Diane; though it is well produced and more than adequately executed by a relatively unknown band (Swell’s is perhaps the only name that jumps out), the element of pastiche may at first be difficult to take on board. Byard’s historical awareness has never been more actively engaged (other than in his solo work) and never more problematically; perhaps the difficulty was writing for an ensemble that by definition did not share his purview and vision. Nevertheless,
Phantasies
grows rather than recedes in importance with the passing years and its eclecticism now seems almost fashionable. It includes some great ensemble work on the Ellington medley, and some of the modernist things – ‘Lonely Woman’, ‘Impressions’ – are excitingly done. So’s a concluding read of ‘Lover Man’, which is unique of its kind.

A few years later
Phantasies II
was an altogether better-structured programme. On ‘Concerto Grosso’, Byard took a playful look at a baroque form within the context of a jazz band and brings in Vincent Lewis to do a convincing job as an Apollo crooner, a reminder that this project had a specific historical provenance, the old Apollo Theatre and its tightrope mix of high and low styes. Musically, though, the most interesting thing is ‘II IV I’, a title which refers to the cadence minor/dominant/major which dominates the piece. It takes Byard back to the great days of the Harlem stride pianists. As a pair they make fascinating listening, but it’s the first volume that counts.

& See also
Out Front!
(1961; p. 272)

JIMMY LYONS

Born 1 December 1933, Jersey City, New Jersey; died 19 May 1986, New York City

Alto saxophone, flute

Give It Up

Black Saint 120087

Lyons; Enrico Rava (t, flhn); Karen Borca (bsn); Jay Oliver (b); Paul Murphy (d). March 1985.

Trumpeter Dennis González said (2005):
‘I studied with Jimmy for a week in 1979. He was quiet, but he had such magical power, stillness outside, a storm within. All he ever said was “Again … again … again”, as I tried playing my lines different ways to make them my own. At the end of that, he’d play the line on his alto and it wasn’t mine any more, but his in an instant.’

If Charlie Parker had a true heir – in the sense of someone interested in doing more than spending inheritance capital – it was Jimmy Lyons. Compared to his light-fingered onrush, most of the bop epigones sound deeply conservative. He didn’t have the greatest tone in the world: ‘reedy’ is the only word, ironically. Lyons’s delivery was always light, the lines dizzyingly extended, and in all his work he was without obvious ego. Years of playing beside Cecil Taylor, in addition to accelerating his hand-speed, probably encouraged a certain self-effacement as well.

The key text for Lyons fans is a box set of live recordings released on the Ayler label, but it’s a hefty undertaking. For a single representation, one has to go to one of his Black Saint records. On
Give It Up
, Lyons seems quite content to remain within the confines of the group. Significantly pianoless and with only a secondary role for the bassist and drummer, it resolves into a series of high, intermeshed lines from the saxophone and horn, with the bassoon tracing a sombre counterpoint. Borca’s role might have been clearer were she not so close in timbre to the bass, but it’s worth concentrating for a moment on what she is doing; the effect is broadly similar to what Dewey Redman used to do behind Ornette
and Don Cherry, and Lyons gives her plenty of solo prominence. Borca also appears to great effect on the slightly earlier
Wee Sneezawee
for the same label (the title-track is one of his best-known compositions), perhaps the most conventional of the Black Saint discs in freebop terms but a similarly invigorating session. Only on the brief, uncharacteristic ‘Ballada’, with which
Give It Up
ends, does Lyons occupy the foreground. It’s immediately clear that his fey, slightly detached tone doesn’t entail an absence of feeling; the closing track is a sad monument to a fading career.

SLIDE HAMPTON

Born Locksley Wellington Hamilton, 21 April 1932, Jeannette, Pennsylvania

Trombone

Roots

Criss Cross 1015

Hampton; Clifford Jordan (ts); Cedar Walton (p); David Williams (b); Billy Higgins (d). April 1985.

Slide Hampton said (1985):
‘Why do I play left-handed? They gave me a horn and that’s the way I started to play. It’s the only thing I do that way round … it
sounds
the same.’

Hampton’s arranging has often taken precedence over his playing, but he remains a quick and skilful trombonist and the records are underrated. Projects like his World Of Trombones, which had a nine-slide front line, gave him prominence briefly, but for the most part Hampton has been a backroom man and apparently content with it. Yet every time we sample one of the records, that warm tone and deft handling of a melody stand out strongly.

This Criss Cross session saw everything worked out just right. Hampton and Jordan are perfectly paired, the trombonist fleet yet punchy, Jordan putting a hint of dishevelment into otherwise finely tailored improvisations; and Walton has seldom played with so much vitality, yet without surrendering his customary aristocratic touch. Williams and Higgins are asked to play hard throughout the four long titles, and they oblige without flagging. Although a very fast ‘Solar’ is arguably the highlight, it’s a fine record altogether.

FRED HO

Born Fred Wei-han Houn, 10 August 1957, Palo Alto, California

Baritone saxophone

Tomorrow Is Now!

Soul Note 121117

Ho; Sam Furnace (as, ts); Sayyd Abdul Al-Khabyyr, Al Givens (ss, ts, f); Richard Clements (p); Jon Jang (p); Kiyoto Fujiwara (b); Taru Alexander (d); Carleen Robinson (v). April 1985.

Fred Ho said (1986):
‘Most forms of so-called “political” art are petty-bourgeois proscriptions, cast in one dimension. Revolutionary art is energetic and dynamic. It doesn’t pacify with easy slogans and “official” forms.’

Ho’s brand of engaged and ebullient big-band jazz has obvious ties to Charles Mingus, but there are many other influences at work as well, not least a desire to synthesize modern jazz, Eastern influences and left-wing politics. Ho’s Marxist thinking might be thought to run some risk of falling into that most heinous of ideological traps,
individualism
, but his emphasis on the ensemble and on the creative contention of many individualisms allows this music to vault any number of philosophical and musical traps.

We once described the music on
Tomorrow Is Now
as ‘aggressively programmatic’. That remains true, in both parts, but perhaps requires a more generous qualification. Unlike much revolutionary music, the medium is often more interesting, and perhaps more likely to win hearts and minds, than the strident message. Ho has tackled so many negative aspects of contemporary society – from race and power in the ‘martial arts ballet’
Once Upon A Time In Asian America
, to rape in
Yes Means Yes No Means No
, to power again in the mythological
Monkey: Parts 1 & 2 –
that his musical qualities are often occluded.

Ho has a big, powerful sound reminiscent of Harry Carney, and this sets the tone for ensembles with a strongly Ellingtonian cast. The title of the first album sets up all sorts of different expectations, from Ornette Coleman’s
Tomorrow Is The Question
to Max Roach’s
We Insist! Freedom Now
suite. The multi-part ‘Tomorrow Is Now’ doesn’t quite cohere, but if anything it grows with age and acquaintance. The whole configuration of the ensemble inevitably resembles Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra, but at this point Ho hadn’t fully integrated political urgency and lyrical expressiveness. One senses that the ‘message’ comes in little discrete quanta which rest on the surrounding score rather than driving it along. On the other hand, almost every track here has great individual power: the ironic ‘Pretty As A Morning Sunrise!’, ‘Ganbaro’, ‘Blues To The Freedom Fighters’. It’s probably worth playing any of these alongside anything from Duke’s
Far East Suite
or one of Toshiko Akiyoshi’s cross-cultural projects. Ho doesn’t seem out of his depth in such company.

GEORGE CABLES

Born 14 November 1944, New York City

Piano

Phantom Of The City

Contemporary C 14014

Cables; John Heard (b); Tony Williams (d). May 1985.

George Cables said (1990):
‘It’s vision and the concept of a band that reaches out to me, rather than individual chops. So it was Coltrane and Miles that affected me more than any single piano-player. Miles’s groups always had that magic that could transport you.’

Cables is a great accompanist, an essentially modest man who likes to service the song. He’s still probably best known for his duo performances with Art Pepper on a marvellous Galaxy,
Goin’ Home
. Cables has a slightly sharp touch that adds an unexpected measure of tension. He gained small-group experience with Art Blakey and Max Roach in the ’60s, then backed horn-players, notably Freddie Hubbard and Pepper, giving him a somewhat unfair journeyman status, which was somewhat corrected by a string of fine solo and trio albums in the ’80s and ’90s.

Phantom
is a beautifully balanced piano trio record, and one of the very best recorded appearances by Tony Williams in the ’80s. It’s the drummer who gives the set much of its character, and on the Cables composition ‘Dark Side, Light Side’ he brings a jaw-dropping musicality, playing the melody as if working on a tuned instrument. Heard never lets the pace drop, even nudging at Williams on occasion when the drummer seems content to let the tempo ease.

Cables is completely in command, opposing long, rippling melody-lines with a firm chordal pattern and working a whole spectrum of harmonic variations on the basic tune. His touch is lighter than one would expect from a self-confident front-man, and seems less emphatic than ever after his work with electric piano on 1979’s admired but dated
Cables’ Vision
, but it’s an individual voice and this is an unmissable record.

JOHN SCOFIELD
^&

Born 26 December 1951, Dayton, Ohio

Guitar

Still Warm

Gramavision GR 8508

Scofield; Don Grolnick (ky); Darryl Jones (b); Omar Hakim (d). June 1985.

John Scofield says:
‘I was just leaving Miles at the time, and I still thought that electric jazz could work!’

John Scofield was perhaps the last of Miles Davis’s sidemen to break through to a major career, but his first records for Enja, made prior to his joining Davis in 1982, bespeak a substantial talent already making waves. He had studied at Berklee and played in the Boston area with a diverse group of leaders – Charles Mingus, Gerry Mulligan, Lee Konitz, Gary Burton, Billy Cobham/George Duke – before forming his own band. Scofield mustered rock power and jazz chops and made the two – at last – seem compatible. The important thing was that jazz had the upper hand.