Jazz Poems

HERE WHERE COLTRANE IS

Soul and race

are private dominions

memories and modal

songs, a tenor blossoming,

which would paint suffering

a clear color, but is not in

this Victorian house

without oil in zero degree

weather and a forty-mile-an-hour wind;

it is all a well-knit family:

a love supreme.

Oak leaves pile up on walkway

and steps, catholic as apples

in a special mist of clear white

children who love my children.

I play”Alabama”

on a warped record player

skipping the scratches

on your faces over the fibrous

conical hairs of plastic

under the wooden floors.

Dreaming on a train from New York

to Philly, your hand out six

notes which become an anthem

to our memories of you:

oak, birch, maple,

apple, cocoa, rubber.

For this reason Martin is dead;

for this reason Malcolm is dead;

for this reason Coltrane is dead;

in the eyes of my first son are the browns

of these men and their music.

MICHAEL S. HARPER | 1938 ~ 2016

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

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Requisites

The Modern Touch ~ Benny Golson Sextet | By Eddie Carter

The jazz world mourned the loss of an icon when Benny Golson passed away on September 21, 2024. His departure left a void that can never be filled. Benny was an excellent musician, arranger and composer. He co-founded the Jazztet with Art Farmer. His extensive discography as a leader and his collaborations with elite jazz musicians as a sideman are a testament to his unique talent. My mother was a fan of his, and her love for his music inspired this morning’s discussion. The Modern Touch (Riverside RLP 12-256), released in 1958, is his second album as a leader and first for the label. He’s joined by Kenny Dorham on trumpet, J.J. Johnson on trombone, Wynton Kelly on piano, Paul Chambers on bass, and Max Roach on drums. My copy is the 1974 Victor Musical Industries Japanese Mono reissue (Riverside SMJ-6070M).

Out of The Past by Benny Golson opens the album with the sextet’s leisurely melody, setting the mood for the saxophonist’s relaxing opening solo. Kenny steps into the spotlight next. He is followed by J.J., who expresses his thoughts in the following statement. Wynton gives a captivating interpretation; then Paul walks with a steady beat. Max adds the finishing touches with a short solo ahead of the reprise. Reunion by Gigi Gryce begins with the front line’s introduction to the ensemble’s upbeat melody. Golson gets right to work first and wails. Johnson takes over and is especially impressive in an inspired interpretation. Dorham follows with a superb solo, ahead of a brief comment by Roach that gives way to Chambers telling a fascinating story. Kelly sustains the excitement in the following reading, and the drummer has an exchange with the front line into the closing chorus that slowly dissolves into nothingness.

Venetian Breeze by Benny Golson takes us on a musical journey inspired by the saxophonist’s travels over the Venetian Causeway from Miami to Miami Beach. The tempo shifts to mid-tempo for the three horns in unison to drive the sextet’s theme. J.J. takes the first solo and moves with ease into a fine groove. Kenny takes over like a refreshing drink on a hot day to give a relaxing performance. Benny swings straight from the heart next, and then Wynton holds our attention leading to the theme’s restatement. Hymn To The Orient by Gigi Gryce is a happy-blowing vehicle. It starts the second side with the sextet’s upbeat theme. Kelly takes the opening chorus and gives an energetic reading. Golson is at his most effective on the subsequent interpretation. Johnson has an outstanding solo next; then Roach gives his drums a short workout before the song’s conclusion.

The pace slows down for a beautiful rendition of Namely You by Gene DePaul and Johnny Mercer. The group sets the mood with a lovely introduction, segueing into Benny’s gentle, deeply emotional melody. In the solo showcase, the saxophonist applies a little tenderness and romantic beauty before the sextet reappears for a soft summation. Blues on Down by Benny Golson is a blues affording everyone a solo opportunity. It brings the album to a close, beginning with the sextet’s leisurely melody. Dorham begins the blowing with an easy-going solo. Golson continues to communicate a laid-back feeling in the following reading. Johnson steps into the spotlight next with a breezy interpretation; then Kelly offers a mellow flow of ideas in the fourth statement. Chambers gets the nod and takes a soulful walk, and Roach takes us home in the finale, ahead of the theme.

>Orrin Keepnews produced The Modern Touch, and Jack Higgins was the recording engineer behind the dials. The album has an excellent sound and is beautifully engineered. The listener will feel like the musicians are playing for them in their listening room. Benny Golson was one of the significant contributors to hard bop jazz as an arranger, composer and musician. I had the pleasure of seeing him perform live and meeting him during the nineties when he was the leader and musical director of The Jazz Messengers during a concert in Cleveland, Ohio. He couldn’t have been more gracious and down to earth. We talked for quite a while after the group’s performance, and I consider it a highlight of my life. His career lasted just over seven decades; he was ninety-five when he died.

Anyone who’s already a fan of Benny Golson and in the mood for an excellent hard-bop album should consider The Modern Touch on your next record-shopping trip. It’s a terrific release that offers a glimpse into one of the best multi-talented jazz musicians, and a record I happily recommend for a spot in your library!

Postscript: The Modern Touch was reissued in 1962 as Reunion on Jazzland (AM 85/AS 985).

© 2024 by Edward Thomas Carter

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Jazz Poems

FOR OUR LADY

billie if someone

had loved u like u

shud have been loved

ain’t no tellen what

kind of songs

u wud have swung

gainst this country’s wite mind

or what kind of lyrics

wud have pushed us from

our blue / nites

yeh billie

if some blk / man

had reallee

made u feel

permanentlee warm

ain’t no tellen

where the jazz of yo/songs

wud have led us.

SONIA SANCHEZ

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

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Requisites

In The Vanguard ~ Bobby Hutcherson | By Eddie Carter

This morning’s discussion arose because I’ve been listening intensely to several great vibraphonists in my library recently, leading me to an underrated live album by Bobby Hutcherson. In The Vanguard (Landmark Records LLP-1513) hit the stores in 1987 and documents excerpts of his performance over two December nights the year before at the Village Vanguard. Bobby was the first artist Orrin Keepnews signed for his new record label; this was his third release. The quartet consists of Bobby Hutcherson on the vibraphone and marimba, Kenny Barron on piano, Buster Williams on bass, and Al Foster on drums. My copy is the original U.S. Stereo album.

The opener, Little Niles by Randy Weston, is a jazz waltz. The quartet gets things off to a spirited start with their melody. Bobby opens the soloing with an infectiously swinging groove. Kenny keeps the lyricism intact with a compelling case ahead of the theme’s restatement and close. Estaté by Bruno Martino and Bruno Brighetti is up next. Williams and Hutcherson set the song in motion with a pretty introduction. Barron and Foster enter next to add sensitive warmth to the gorgeous melody. Bobby’s opening solo is beautiful; then Kenny articulates his ideas tenderly while Buster and Al hold everything together into the quartet’s graceful climax.

Well, You Needn’t by Thelonious Monk and Mike Ferro opens with Bobby’s introduction before the ensemble’s theme takes off quickly. Bobby is out of the gate first with an exhilarating reading. Kenny steps up next to play with exciting urgency. Buster and Al share a moment in the closer, preceding the foursome’s return with a quick resolution. Side Two starts with Some Day My Prince Will Come by Frank Churchill and Larry Morey. The ensemble establishes the song with a quaint melody that moves upward for Hutcherson’s opening solo. Barron turns in an exquisite performance next, and Williams provides a superbly conceived finale, one of the album’s highlights before the reprise and ending.

Witchcraft by Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh begins with a two-instrument dialogue between Bobby and Buster, segueing into the quartet’s lovely melody. Bobby kicks off the solos with a stream of imaginative ideas. Kenny takes the reins, gliding to the rhythm section’s buoyant beat ahead of the song’s conclusion. I Wanna Stand Over There by Bobby Hutcherson is off to the races during the quartet’s upbeat theme. Barron comes right out of the gate, bristling with energy. Hutcherson follows with a hard-driving interpretation; then Foster provides the album’s final fireworks in a short solo ahead of the theme’s restatement and climax.

In The Vanguard is a digital recording produced by Orrin Keepnews and Tom Mark, the recording engineer. George Horn mastered the album, and Danny Kopelson provided the digital transfer, editing and sequencing at Fantasy Studios. The album’s sound quality is exceptional, capturing the live energy and ambiance of the Village Vanguard. The listener becomes a part of the audience as the musicians perform with crystal-clear fidelity. Despite its high-quality performance and recording, this album is often overlooked in Bobby Hutcherson’s discography. But please don’t let that discourage you from checking out In The Vanguard by Bobby Hutcherson the next time you’re out record shopping. It’s a jazzy treat for your ears and an absolute pleasure to listen to, especially if you enjoy live jazz albums!

Postscript: Estaté is listed on the Side One label and back album cover with two composers, Bruno Martino, and Bruno Brighetti. I have no idea why this happened, but they are the same man, Bruno Martini. He was an Italian composer, pianist, singer, and songwriter. Estaté was his best-known composition; many jazz musicians and vocalists have recorded it since its first appearance in 1960. Martino’s career lasted fifty-five years; he died on June 12, 2000, at age seventy-four.

~ Bruno Brighetti, Bruno Martino – Source: Discogs.com

~ Some Day My Prince Will Come – Source: JazzStandards.com

~ Little Niles, Witchcraft – Source: Wikipedia.org

© 2024 by Edward Thomas Carter

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Jazz Poems

ART PEPPER

It’s the broken phrases, the fury inside him.

Squiggling alto saxophone playing out rickets

And jaundice, a mother who tried to kill him

In her womb with a coat hanger, a faltering

God-like father. The past is a bruised cloud

Floating over the houses like a prophecy,

The terrible foghorns off the shore at San Pedro.

Lightning without thunder. Years without playing.

Years of blowing out smoke and inhaling fire,

Junk and cold turkey, smacking up, the habit

Of cooking powder in spoons, the eyedroppers,

The spikes. Tracks on both arms. Tattoos.

The hospital cells at Fort Worth, the wire cages

In the L.A. County, the hole at San Quentin.

And always the blunt instrument of sex, the pain

Bubbling up inside him like a wound, the small

Deaths. The wind piercing the sheer skin

Of a dark lake at dawn. The streets at 5 a.m.

After a cool rain. The smoky blue clubs.

The chords of Parker, of Young, of Coltrane.

Playing solo means going on alone, improvising,

Hitting the notes, ringing the changes,

It’s clipped phrasing and dry ice in summer,

Straining against the rhythms, speeding it up,

Loping forward and looping back, finding the curl

In the wave, the mood in the air. It’s

Splintered tones and furious double timing.

It’s leaving the other instruments on stage

And blowing freedom into the night, into the faces

Of emptiness that peer along the bar, ghosts

Shallow hulls of nothingness, Hatred of God.

Hatred of white skin that never turns black.

Hatred of Patti, of Dianne, of Christine.

A daughter who grew up without him, a stranger.

Years of being strung out, years without speaking.

Pauses and intervals, silence. A fog rolling

Across the ocean, foghorns in the distance.

A lighthouse rising from the underworld.

A moon swelling in the clouds, an informer,

A twisted white mouth of light. Scars carved

And criscrossed on his chest. The memory

Of nodding out, the dazed drop-off into sleep.

And then the curious joy of surviving, joy

Of waking up in a dusky room to a gush

Of fresh notes, a tremoring sheet of sound.

Jamming again. Careening through the scales

For the creatures who haunt the night.

Bopping through the streets in a half-light

With Laurie on his arm, a witness, a believer.

The night is going to burst inside him.

The wind is going to break loose forever

From his lungs. It’s the fury of improvising,

Of going on alone. It’s the fierce clarity

Of each note coming to an end, distinct,

Glistening. The alto’s full-bodied laughter

The white grief-stricken wail.

EDWARD HIRSCH

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

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