The Penguin Jazz Guide (98 page)

& See also
Fleur Carnivore
(1988; p. 524)

HERBIE MANN

Born Herbert Jay Solomon, 16 April 1930, Brooklyn, New York; died 1 July 2003, Santa Fe, New Mexico

Flute, tenor saxophone, clarinets

Memphis Underground

Atlantic 7567 81364

Mann; Roy Ayers (vib, perc); Bobby Emmons (org); Larry Coryell, Sonny Sharrock, Reggie Young (g); Bobby Wood (p, electric p); Tommy Coghill, Mike Leach, Miroslav Vitous (b); Gene Christman (d). 1968.

Guitarist Larry Coryell remembers:
‘I had just been booted out by Gary Burton because I wanted to rock! So I went over to Herbie. He said: “It’s time to take some Ex-Lax.” As second guitarist, I let my hair down. For his part, Herbie was a “general among generals”. He had all these new, strong players and he devised a way to unify them – by covering R&B tunes. Herbie was the best leader for whom I ever worked – flat out. He wasn’t Hubert Laws, but he could play.’

Non-stop touring honed Mann’s flute style and opened him to a huge range of influences, from bop and bossa nova to rock and Japanese classical music. His light skipping attack is matched by an unfailing rhythmic sureness. He slowly evolved a powerful and adaptable technique which gave him access to virtually every mood, breathy and ethereal, smooth and semi-vocalized (and reminiscent of his first instrument, clarinet), to a tough, metallic ring ideal for funk. He started out playing bop tenor, but dabbled in more experimental situations when he started recording as leader, playing an entire record of bass clarinet, and another of solo flute, both rarities at the time.

He had a spell in the studios before he started exploring the Latin funk-fusion that made his name. Almost everyone except loyal fans forgets just how good he was, and how prolific –
Memphis Underground
was something like his 60th album, and only a quarter of the way through his recording career. It’s a hardy perennial. The recording quality would scarcely pass muster nowadays, but the music survives unexpectedly well, as Mann and his main soloists transform some rather lacklustre material (‘Hold On, I’m Comin’’, ‘Chain Of Fools’ and ‘Battle Hymn Of The Republic’ don’t promise much) into a record with real presence and lasting power. The interplay of three guitarists, notably the Cain and Abel opposition of Sonny Sharrock and Larry Coryell, gives it a distinctive flavour; Sharrock shreds, Coryell coasts on the R&B/country feel of the rhythm section. The addition of Roy Ayers’s vibes and Bobby Emmons’s organ gives the background a seething quality that adds depth to Mann’s slightly unemotional virtuosity. The one-time presence of Miroslav Vitous on ‘Hold On …’ is worth noting. Head and shoulders with Charles Lloyd (Lloyd apparently drew him on a blindfold test and said ‘I don’t know who that is, but he’s a better flautist than I am!’) above most of the crossover experimenters of the time, Mann is something of a forgotten hero of the music at a low ebb in its public appeal.

JOHN MCLAUGHLIN
^&

Born 4 January 1942, Doncaster, Yorkshire, England

Guitar

Extrapolation

Polydor 841598

McLaughlin; John Surman (ss, bs); Brian Odgers (b); Tony Oxley (d). January 1969.

John Surman remembers:
‘I met John Mc on a recording session for Georgie Fame. Later, he called me for a recording. As I recall, both Oxley and I were actually playing a set with Ronnie’s nine-piece that evening, so we left the session which was in Advision near Bond Street, walked to Ronnie’s, played out a set with the band, and then came back and finished the record.’

Coming to London in the ’60s as a young and already experienced professional drawn to swing and the blues, McLaughlin fell into a scene where the boundaries between jazz and rock, commercial and experimental music, were substantially blurred. Within a short time of recording
Extrapolation
he was to travel to the US to record with Miles Davis on the
Bitches Brew
sessions and to join Tony Williams’s volcanic Lifetime. A little later, he would form his own Mahavishnu Orchestra, which cast early ’70s jazz-rock in a notably rarefied and spiritual form. Later years saw McLaughlin develop a profound interest in Indian music (with another group, Shakti) and classical forms. He remains, though, a rare virtuoso of both electric and acoustic guitar, with a highly personal sound on each.

Extrapolation
is one of the finest jazz records ever made in Europe. The circumstances
of its recording are consistent with the spirit of the time, as are the forms – nearly all short with only ‘Binky’s Beam’ significantly extended – which touch on blues, folk, swing, bebop and even some modern-classical ideas, but without settling into any specific ‘genre’. The emotional range and dynamics are already typical of what became McLaughlin’s familiar spectrum of gently meditative runs and furious, irregularly metred scrabbles, but with all his virtues (accuracy, power, vision) already in place. The band was state of the art for 1969. Oxley’s drumming has the firmness of a rock beat, even when the count is extremely irregular, and Surman’s playing is cast midway between folksy melodizing and something uniquely his own. Odgers is the least well known, but an admired player of the period. Some British jazz fans will claim ‘Binky’s Beam’ as their favourite track of all time. The whole set has a durable, timeless feel.

& See also
MAHAVISHNU ORCHESTRA, The Inner Mounting Flame
(1971–1972; p. 386)

TONY OXLEY

Born 15 June 1938, Sheffield, Yorkshire, England

Drums, electronics

The Baptised Traveller

Columbia 494438 2

Oxley; Kenny Wheeler (t, flhn); Evan Parker (ts); Derek Bailey (g); Jeff Cline (b). January 1969.

Tony Oxley said (1992):
‘I start out with what’s like an old theatre kit, with all these bits and pieces around it, like would have been used for creating sound-effects during a performance, not at all like a big swing kit or a rock kit, and I suppose the electronics stuff emerged out of that, a whole orchestra of sounds that can be triggered from right here on the stool.’

Tony Oxley served an apprenticeship in pub bands and then learned a more formal craft as a military conscript with the Black Watch. He was a key player in the early days of the British free scene, notably the Joseph Holbrooke trio with Derek Bailey and Gavin Bryars. Later years saw another trio, SOH, with Alan Skidmore and Ali Haurand, and the Celebration Orchestra, which reveals him to be a composer of considerable sophistication. Most of his pieces move relatively slowly, even if there is a lot of surface detail. Large acoustic masses seem to operate in three dimensions, as if rotated round some non-tonal axis.

Oxley’s CBS albums have enjoyed legendary status for years, and now only
Ichnos
, an even more adventurous vehicle for Oxley’s pin-sharp sound and ideas, remains un-reissued.
The Baptised Traveller
is the most representative and coherent expression of his gifts. Thirled to a quest for identity, its four themes are calmly questioning, the two horns restlessly ranging over Cline’s and Oxley’s unceasing shifts of direction. ‘Crossing’ and ‘Arrival’, which are segued into a single improvisation, wipe clean almost all formal expectations. Oxley’s stately reading of Charlie Mariano’s ‘Stone Garden’ is one of the masterworks of contemporary music, a slow chorale rooted in Bailey’s chiming guitar chords. Their almost orchestral quality provides a starting-point for Parker’s solemn quiddities and for virtuosic percussion from Oxley. The closing ‘Preparation’ isn’t so much an anti-climax as an afterthought.

The subsequent
Four Compositions
was a title guaranteed to offend anyone who wanted to set aside any implication of predetermined structures, but it was an indication of the direction Oxley was going in, though in recent years he has more often been seen in Cecil Taylor’s group or in duo situations than as an ensemble leader. Another exile without much honour in his own country.

RALPH SUTTON

Born 4 November 1922, Hamburg, Missouri; died 29 December 2001, Evergreen, Colorado

Piano

Live At Sunnie’s Rendezvous 1969: Volumes 1 & 2

Storyville STCD 8286 / 8281

Sutton; Bob Wilber (ss, cl); Al Hall (b); Cliff Leeman (d). February 1969.

Just prior to the interview, Ralph Sutton said:
‘Shall we just have a little taste? Get the top off this thing, and just have a little taste …?’
Several hours later, the interview began: ‘Mishter Shutton …’

Sutton was one of the premier stride and swing piano-players in jazz for 50 years, although it was only in later years that he got on record as a leader in a big way. He was playing with Jack Teagarden while still a college student, and after the war worked for many years as Eddie Condon’s intermission pianist. A founder member of The World’s Greatest Jazz Band in 1968, he enjoyed an Indian summer of recording and gigging in the ’80s and ’90s.

These Storyville sessions date from a period when he performed at a club run by his wife in Aspen. The sound is imperfect on each, and the relaxations of a club set mean that they lack the focus of his studio dates. Nevertheless this is music being made in the moment, and Sutton’s occasional lapses (or more properly, the tactics he adopts to get himself out of jams) are the very stuff of this style of jazz, where error is simply a means to creativity. ‘Blue Turning Grey Over You’ and ‘Sweet And Lovely’ on the volume with Bob Wilber are perfect cases in point. It’s vibrant, swinging music, and after a time there’s almost a merit in the imperfect registration. Hall and Leeman aren’t well known outside their circle, but they stay with it all the way.

There are several other records from Sunnie’s at this period, including a nice one with Ruby Braff. You can’t go wrong: heartland music, played with heart. (By the way, the interview went fine, and the hangover went on for two days …)

MILES DAVIS
^&

Born 26 May 1926, Alton, Illinois; died 28 September 1991, Santa Monica, California

Trumpet, flugelhorn, organ

In A Silent Way

Columbia 450982

Davis; Wayne Shorter (ts); Chick Corea (p); Joe Zawinul (p, org); John McLaughlin (g); Dave Holland (b); Tony Williams (d). February 1969.

Producer Teo Macero said (1999):
‘Don’t think in terms of modern editing with computer software. Those albums were made with razor blades and the bad edits were simply covered up with something. As to whose music it is, I made the albums, what you actually hear, so I am co-composer to some degree at least.’

All through Miles Davis’s career, and with increasing volume since his death, there has been controversy about creative ownership of the music that went out under his name. In what sense was the music on
The Birth Of The Cool
‘his’? Who was the main begetter of the records made with Gil Evans? Or bassist Marcus Miller, who shaped some of the last recordings? Why no musician credits, other than Miles himself for
On The Corner
? Most controversial of all is his relationship with producer Teo Macero. He himself did on occasion claim the role of co-composer, and certainly the finished artefacts that we hear are as much Macero’s work as they are the musicians’.

However, it’s important to put down a process of counter-mystification for what it is: sour grapes mixed with a more forgivable desire to put oneself at the forefront of this great music. Significantly, most claims of joint authorship only emerged explicitly after Miles’s death. The reality is that from first to last he was the shaping force, his the vision – or its aural equivalent – that gave the music its character. The executants were simply that.

Miles had begun experimenting with electric groups as early as
Miles In The Sky
, which also saw his return to composition, after he had ceded writing duties largely to Wayne Shorter during the classic quintet period. By the end of the ’60s, with rock music dominant in the marketplace, Miles was looking for new directions that carried forward his core values in a creative and relevant way. As an artefact,
In A Silent Way
is already a long way even from the increasingly abstract work of the previous couple of years.

It was in every sense a collage using ‘found objects’, put together with a view to the minimum detail and coloration required to make an impact. Two of the ‘objects’ were John McLaughlin, recruited on the nod and apparently unheard by the trumpeter, and Joe Zawinul, whose ‘In A Silent Way’ became a centrepiece of the album. Three electric instruments give the band a sound completely unlike the previous incarnation, though it is clear that there are very significant continuities between this record and
Miles Smiles
or
E.S.P.
In order to bring the performances up to LP length, Teo Macero stitched repeats of certain passages back into the fabric of the music, lending it a certain hypnotic circularity. Once again, a practical contingency (Miles was apparently happy with the short chunks that had been recorded) resulted in a new creative development, no less significant than Charles Mingus’s overdubbing on
The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady
. Even if one had no inkling of what had gone before,
In A Silent Way
is a very beautiful album, touching and centred, its title-piece and ‘Shhh/Peaceful’ among the most atmospheric recordings in modern jazz.