Label:
London Records – LTZ-K15199, London Atlantic – LTZ-K15199
Series:
Jazz Series
Format:
Vinyl, LP, Album / Country: UK / Released: 1961
Style:
Free Jazz
The album was
originally released as Atlantic 1327 in June, 1960.
Recording
dates: Tracks A3, B2, B3, B4 - October 8, 1959, tracks A1, A2, B1 - October 9,
1959, Radio Recorders, Hollywood, California.
Engineer
– Bones Howe
Cover
/ Photo – Lee Friedlander
A1
- Ramblin'
.............................................................................
6:35
A2
- Free ....................................................................................
6:20
A3
- The Face Of The Bass .......................................................
6:55
B1
- Forerunner
......................................................................... 5:12
B2
- Bird Food ...........................................................................
5:30
B3
- Una Muy Bonita
................................................................. 6:00
B4
- Change Of The Century .....................................................
4:43
Ornette
Coleman – alto saxophone
Don
Cherry – pocket trumpet
Charlie
Haden – bass
Billy
Higgins – drums, percussion
Change Of The Century
was an audacious album title, to say the least. On his second Atlantic
release—and second with his most like-minded ensemble (trumpeter Don Cherry,
bassist Charlie Haden and drummer Billy Higgins)—alto saxophonist Ornette
Coleman pushed the freedom principal farther. At the same time, he looked
backward too for inspiration. Having eliminated the piano on his Contemporary
release, Tomorrow Is The Question! (1959), Coleman opened up wide
improvisational opportunities. On that recording, he and his "freedom
principle" remained partially inhibited by the presence of traditionalist
bassist Percy Heath and drummer Shelly Manne, who resisted coloring outside of
the lines as Coleman was attempting to do. But that was not so on The Shape Of
Jazz To Come (Atlantic, 1959) and Change Of The Century. While the rhythm
section continued to provide enough cohesive swing to propel matters, Coleman
and Cherry stretched the melodic boundaries without the previous harmonic
anchors.
Change
of the Century is compelling in its embrace of contrasts. "Ramblin'"
is funky organic, almost early rock and roll. Haden plucks and strums his way
through a fractured 12-bar format that never fully resolves itself into the
comfort of the anticipated. Coleman's solo over Haden's support is bar-walking
rhythm and blues, lowdown and dirty, smelling of beer and Lucky Strikes. Cherry
plays his famous pocket trumpet, sounding closer to Lee Morgan than anyone
else, squeezing out hard bop lines like sparks from a metal lathe. Haden solos
using the figures he has supported the whole piece with. His intonation is
middle-of-the-note, relaxed and slightly wooden. "Ramblin'" retains
an erstwhile harmonic structure, albeit only barely.
The
head of "Free" is an odd premonition for composer/saxophonist Oliver
Nelson's "Hoedown" from The Blues and the Abstract Truth (Impulse!,
1961), passing through an ascending and descending blues figure. Haden is rock
solid throughout, even when the solo-going gets ragged and frayed. Higgins'
accents are as potent as pepper, shoring up the edges of chaos on the
briskly-timed piece. "The Face Of Bass" gives prominence to Haden
while at the same time sounding strangely traditional for an album entitled
Change of the Century. But it is a facade. Coleman encourages a careful abandon
in the piece's overall structure and arrangement. Cherry pops on his solo,
sometimes sounding like Freddie Hubbard, sometimes, Art Farmer.
"Forerunner"
pretends that it is bebop, with a serpentine head and a deft drum break by
Higgins. Coleman's solo is inspired, quenched in gospel and the blues. His
tonal expanse is as big as his native Texas, informed by the many great tenor
saxophone players from that state. Cherry emerges assertive, playing with
swagger and attitude. So well constructed and delivered is his solo that it is
easy to forget that a move toward a freer musical system is in the works. Haden
remains stalwart in time-keeping, shepherding everything between the rhythmic
ditches. The same can be said for the Charlie Parker-inspired "Bird
Food," which is surveyed at a fast clip over a complex note pattern.
"Una
Muy Bonita" is only passing Latin, with pianist Thelonious Monk phrasing
and side- winding playing. Haden sets up a familiar clave beat with strummed
chords. Coleman stages the piece to more insinuate a Latin vibe than to
actually play one. After a lengthy introduction, Cherry solos muted, allowing
himself a broad swath over which to play. The disc's closer, the title tune,
was the most fully-realized "free jazz" at that point from Coleman.
It is a wild phantasm of notes that are to "free jazz" what trumpeter
Dizzy Gillespie's "Bebop" was for that virtuosic genre. It is a
clarion call played on impulse. Yes, finally things are really beginning to
come apart at the seams, properly foreshadowing Free Jazz: A Group
Improvisation (Atlantic, 1961). Coleman has fully gained his traction and is
now ready.
Label:
Fontana – 858 119 FPY, ESP Disk – SFJL923
Format:
Vinyl, LP, Album / Country: UK / Released: 1965
Style:
Free Jazz, Avantgarde
Recorded live on
December 21, 1962 at Town Hall, NYC.
Design
– Jay Dillon
Engineer
– Jerry Newman
Photography
By – Charles Shabacon
Blue
and silver label with silver and blue letters.
P:
1963 on label (wrong)
A1
- Doughnut .................................................................. 9:00
A2
- Sadness .................................................................... 4:00
A3
- Dedication To Poets And Writers ............................. 8:50
B - The
Ark .................................................................... 23:24
Ornette
Coleman – alto saxophone
David
Izenzon – bass
Charles
Moffett – drums, percussion
Kermit
Moore – cello (tracks: A3)
Julien
Barber – viola (tracks: A3)
Nathan
Goldstein – violin (tracks: A3)
Selwart
Clarke – violin (tracks: A3)
Ornette
Coleman's theory of harmolodics set a standard for improvised music that is
unrivaled. Coleman closed the synaptic gap between the conception and implementation
of the musical idea so that spawning the music became a conjugation of the
harmonic relationships that live within it.
Town
Hall, 1962 brings the music so close to the experience that the performers seem
to be just yards away. The sad fact remains that this is only part of the
night's worth of music; the whereabouts of the rest is regrettably unknown.
The
bright spirit stemming from Coleman's youth permeates the sound of the
four-track recording with innovation. Coleman's searing stepped scale ascension
on his alto bursts open the music to carve out his sonic territory; he is
accompanied by light touches and constant motion on the snare and cymbal and a
relaxed rich pizzicato on the bass. Coleman carries the weight of the music
through an endlessly changing tuneful line until he rests and lets bassist
David Izenzon's arco fly and Charles Moffett's stick work map the way into a
snare/cymbal rendering of the tempo. Coleman holds a high pitch on his horn to
wrap up the first song, "Doughnut." The memory of that pitch
transfers to the jaw-dropping purity of tone that Coleman illustrates on
"Sadness."
"Sadness"
has to be one of the best models for evoking the meaning of its title, besides
Coleman's classic composition "Lonely Woman." At age 32, having mastered
his instrument, Coleman plays unwavering, potent single notes and melodic
phrases of compelling poignancy. Contrast the gripping soundscape emanating
from the alto with tonal arco vagaries on the bass, precise brushwork on the
drums and expansive sibilance on the cymbals and the result is unforgettable.
The
presence of a piece for string quartet is no less a distraction than a
Rembrandt portrait would be hanging next to a Picasso collage abstraction. The
instrumentation may seem antithetical to expectations brought to Coleman's
music. But, following the path of every string instrument in relation to one
another on "Dedication to Poets and Writers" substantiates the
integration in which Coleman staunchly believes.
The
final 23-minute "The Ark" widens the distance among the instruments
in a true test of improvisational limits. Coleman presses through a loosely
defined middle range in the form of ostinatos and relentless melodic bounce.
Moffett can only respond with bold polyrhythmic moves and Izenzon with deep
pizzicato splurges and assiduous bowing. Nineteen minutes in, Coleman slowly
squeezes out a seemingly strained high pitch, a signal for the tonal climb that
ensues until closing with the bass's fast paced bowing in its upper register.
In
the stream of its apparent freedom, this trio acts with constraints, imposed
not by restriction, but by genius. To know what later transpired could only
underscore the appreciation of what already exists.
If
you find it, buy this albums!
