George Cables “Why Not?”  (WNCD 79402)

Walt Dickerson “Tell Us Only The Beautiful Things” (WNCD 79401)

Air featuring Henry Threadgill “Air Song” (WNCD 79403)

Chico Freeman “Morning Prayer (WNCD 79412)

The seventies is generally reckoned to be a pretty terrible decade for jazz. A decline in the commercial fortunes of the music and the rise of the now derided fusion has resulted in many critics writing the whole decade off.
These four very welcome re-releases are evidence that the seventies were nowhere as bad as they’ve been painted. There’s not a synthesiser in sight on these sturdily individual and intelligent records, the music to be heard on all four albums still sounds remarkably fresh and contemporary, it’s barely dated at all.

With the exception of George Cables’ relatively straight ahead piano trio date these albums explore the legacy of free jazz and the sixties avant garde but do so in interesting and melodic fashion. They owe their existence to Masahiko Yuh, a Japanese businessman and jazz fan who travelled all over America persuading creative musicians to record for him. One of the earliest of these projects was Cables ’ 1975 trio recording “Why Not?”, the success of which persuaded Yuh to adopt the title as the name of his record label. More than thirty years since they were recorded these albums have now been re-released under an arrangement with Alan Bates’ Candid Records. 

GEORGE CABLES “WHY NOT?”
I’ll start my in depth look at these records with Cables. Although chronologically the Dickerson date was the first to be recorded it was Cables’ title track that gave the label it’s name. Cables’ record is also significantly different in style to the other three releases so this makes it the perfect point to start.

Pianist Cables was born in New York city in 1944. He studied at Manne’s College of Music and by the age of twenty had turned professional. He played as a side man with some of the giants of jazz including Max Roach, Art Blakey, Sonny Rollins, Joe Henderson, Freddie Hubbard, Woody Shaw and Bobby Hutcherson. He later joined Dexter Gordon’s quartet and also worked with Art Pepper who dubbed him “Mr Beautiful” on account of his playing.
In 1975 Cables was living in Los Angeles and despite his role as side man of choice for many of the jazz greats he had yet to record as a leader. Yuh encouraged him to do so and this set was recorded at the famous LA studio the Record Plant with Angelino musicians Tony Dumas (bass) and Carl Burnett (drums). The latter was to remain with Cables for a number of years.
Although Cables has never established himself as a front line pianist in the mould of Hancock, Tyner or Jarrett he has always been prolific as both side man and leader. Cables has now recorded some twenty five albums under his own name and was particularly productive during the 80’s and 90’s.

This early example of his leadership is a fine record in it’s own right. It reveals Cables to be an inventive composer and an imaginative soloist with technique to spare. Although bona fide stardom has never come knocking Cables has had a satisfying career and this early milestone is an album to be proud of. 
The material consists of six lengthy pieces all composed by Cables. “Ebony Moonbeams” leads the album off with Cables stretching out supported by Burnett’s crisp drumming and Dumas’ supple bass. Cables is the real star here, his playing is full of invention as the piece twists and turns. The trio start off at a latin tinged mid tempo but after three minutes or so abruptly turn up the wattage for a dazzling high energy mid section. Cables dances around the keyboard as the rhythm section feverishly struggle to keep pace with him. At this time Cables had acquired quite a reputation as an exponent of the then modish electric piano and some of his lines here would sound great on that instrument. The piece resolves itself by returning to mid tempo for the conclusion. All in all an impressive start.

At nearly twelve minutes “Rita I and II- Her Spirit Her Soul” is the longest item on the record. The title of the piece is definitely a bit seventies and rather gives the age of the album away. The music itself has worn rather better with the dashing Cables just as inventive as before. He contributes some bravura playing to “Her Spirit”, the ideas tumbling out of him. In a clearly delineated two part composition “Her Soul” is more reflective and illustrates the more lyrical side of Cables’ playing. It also contains a solo from Dumas, featuring the extraordinarily woody sound of his double bass.

Dumas leads off the next item “Dark Side-Light Side”, subtitled “Yuh’s Blues” in honour of the trio’s patron. Loosely based around a blues framework the piece offers more joyous playing from Cables against a backdrop of Dumas’s rich bass undertow and Burnett’s splashy, energetic drumming. 
On “Quiet Fire” the focus is on the latter rather than the former. This is probably the most accessible piece on the album with a strong riff based theme providing the springboard for a coruscating middle section featuring some sparkling right hand improvising from Cables. Burnett enjoys a brief solo before the close.

The title track appropriates funk grooves in a quietly assertive manner. Indeed there is an element of funk in much of the music to be heard on this album although it could never be categorised as such.

Here Cables expands upon the raw materials with a jazz improviser’s intelligence. Mr Yuh was so enamoured of the piece he decided to name his record label after it.
The closing “Think Of Me”  is a good distillation of the virtues of the rest of the album. Cables playing is by turns lyrical and flamboyant and the rhythm section subtly funky. Dumas is again heard as a soloist in the tune’s latter stages.
“Why Not” is an exuberant album that features some great playing and it is a welcome reminder of what a fine pianist Cables was and indeed still is. The recording quality is not quite up to modern standards and Dumas and Burnett are solid but not inspired accompanists. Hearing some of this material recorded with a real A list rhythm team would make for interesting listening. However there is a joie de vivre about Cables’ playing that more than compensates for these comparatively minor criticisms. It’s good to have this music available again.   

WALT DICKERSON “TELL US ONLY THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS”

Vibraphonist Dickerson (1931-2008) is something of a forgotten figure these days so this welcome re-release is a timely reminder of his talents. Although Dickerson never enjoyed the high profile of Milt Jackson, Bobby Hutcherson or Gary Burton he was a masterful player capable of playing in challenging and exposed situations. He was one of the first players to experiment with the vibraphone in a free jazz context and many of his recordings were made in duo situations. His collaborators in this format included Richard Davis (bass), Jimmy Johnson (drums) and perhaps most remarkably Sun Ra (keyboards).
Dickerson was something of an enigmatic figure who often dropped out of the jazz scene for long periods. This, plus the experimental nature of his work may account for his relatively low profile. It wasn’t due to a lack of ability as this splendid re-issue comprehensively demonstrates.
Recorded in Dickerson’s home town of Philadelphia in 1975 just a few months before Cables’ “Why Not” , this record is a stunning example of Dickerson’s art. His collaborators are the astonishing avant garde drummer and percussionist Andrew Cyrille (who most famously went on to play with pianist Cecil Taylor) and bassist Wilbur Ware. Ware was one of the most adaptable bassists in jazz,equally capable of playing a straight walking bass line behind a soloist or anchoring an improvising avant garde trio as here. He was most famously associated with Thelonious Monk but was fully open to the developments of free jazz, always updating and adapting his sound to the context in which he found himself. 
Ware died in 1979 making Cyrille the only surviving member of this trio. I saw him give an extraordinary performance on the Saturday of the 2009 Cheltenham Jazz Festival as part of the Profound Sound Trio alongside UK saxophonist Paul Dunmall and the veteran bassist Henry Grimes.  That event is described elsewhere on this site as part of our festival coverage. It was a privilege to be present for such a remarkable display of improvised music making.
Returning to the Dickerson album the material consists of two long compositions/improvisations which presumably filled a side each of the original vinyl LP. Side one ( let’s call it that) comprises the twenty two minute plus “The Nexus”. Dickerson opens the piece on solo vibraphone his specially treated rubber headed mallets producing a sound that manages to be “warm yet crisp” as Alan Bates’ liner notes put it. Here Dickerson almost seems to be in dialogue with himself. Delicate, shimmering, atmospheric passages alternate with fleeting,dazzling runs of enormous technical facility presumably played using the four mallet technique. Gary Burton is generally acknowledged to be the master of solo vibes but Dickerson more than matches him here. His playing is totally absorbing, artfully based around the building and release of tension.

Ware and Cyrille enter the proceedings at around the seven minute mark. Ware’s solid yet flexible bass provides the foundation for the dialogue between the percussionists. Dickerson’s mercurial runs contrast nicely with Cyrille’s dramatic drumming and colourful percussion. Not that Ware’s role should be understated, his receptiveness makes this very much a three way creative process.
The mood of Dickerson’s opening improvisation carries on throughout the piece with windows of calm alternating with more stormy passages. The three protagonists pass the leadership baton to one another with Ware first taking over followed by a dramatic barrage from Cyrille’s drums before the piece resolves itself another brief passage for solo vibes.

The eighteen minute title track begins with a three way dialogue in which Ware’s bass almost seems to take the lead and builds to a slow climax with Cyrille’s drums once again becoming the dominant voice. He produces an astonishing array of sounds from his kit including the “rattlesnake noises” described by John Fordham in his Guardian review. Dickerson’s darting vibes fill in the spaces left by Cyrille and ultimately the piece resolves itself quietly. The final sound is that of a human voice (presumably Dickerson’s) intoning the word “Peace”. It’s the only thing that threatens to date this extraordinary music.

Dickerson’s album is less accessible than Cables’ but in many ways is more rewarding. It’s a free jazz record but I didn’t find it any way difficult just, totally absorbing.

AIR “AIR SONG”
Chicago is the next stop on Mr. Yuh’s American tour. The trio Air grew out of saxophonist Henry Threadgill’s involvement with pianist Richard Muhal Abrams and the Chicago based AACM (Association For The Advancement Of Creative Musicians) collective. The AACM spawned a whole “Chicago avant garde” scene with Threadgill (born 1944) one of it’s most important protagonists. He continues to make fascinating music to this day and has produced a unique and absorbing body of work. 

The members of Air initially came together in 1971 to provide an adaptation of the works of ragtime composer Scott Joplin for a theatre production entitled “Reflection”. Threadgill, drummer and percussionist Steve McCall and bassist Fred Hopkins remained together taking the group identity Air. They recorded a number of albums throughout the seventies for various labels including Black Saint but this offering for Why Not has languished in the vaults for too long prior to this welcome re-release.

Air was nominally a leaderless trio with Hopkins and McCall adding to the composing process but “Air Song” is subtly dominated by Threadgill who contributes all of the material. There are four lengthy pieces with Threadgill playing a different horn on each. “Untitled Song” features him on tenor, “Great Body Of The Riddle Or Where Were The Dodge Boys When My Clay Started To Slide” (great title, Henry has a way with titles) sees him on baritone and “Dance Of The Beast” on alto. The closing “Air Song” sees him credited with saxes and flutes but seems to comprise entirely of the latter. Subsequent recordings saw Threadgill building his own instruments, thereby demonstrating a close affinity to musical and geographical relatives the Art Ensemble of Chicago.

For all his avant garde credentials Threadgill is a highly melodic improviser and the music contained on “Air Song” is not overly “difficult” for the listener. Threadgill is a deep thinker about music and frequently incorporates different styles into his themes. “Untitled Song” appears as “Untitled Tango” on the disc itself which is a clear indication as to the direction this piece is coming from. It opens with a salvo from McCall’s drums before Threadgill’s breathy tenor states the theme over Hopkins’ languorous bass walk and McCall’s marching snare. The saxophonist then pushes and stretches the theme with Hopkins and McCall receptive to his every inflection. The tango rhythms give way to something more recognisably jazzy as Threadgill embarks on a lengthy improvisation, sturdily but sensitively backed by the dynamic rhythm team. Hopkins subsequently demonstrates his remarkable dexterity on the bass as the others drop out. Threadgill returns before the piece comes full circle with a restatement of the theme. Like much of Threadgill’s music the piece strikes a good balance between the sensibilities of free jazz and more the more “conventional” jazz virtues. His pieces are “stories” but they offer many unexpected twists and turns before reaching their conclusion.

“Great Body Of The Riddle” etc. is almost worth the price of admittance for the title alone. Hopkins’ gloriously grainy arco bass features alongside Threadgill’s ominously growling baritone. This piece is more consciously “out” than it’s predecessor but it’s brooding atmosphere plus Threadgill’s incredible flexibility on the larger horn makes this largely compulsive listening. Hopkins again features on pizzicato bass and it is only on McCall’s drum interludes that the listener’s attention sometimes starts to wander. 
“Dance Of The Beast” begins with a duet from the rhythm team with Hopkin’s demonstrating both his huge tone and his incredible sense of melodic invention. Threadgill eventually enters on alto, initially circling around his colleagues before establishing his identity. From then on it’s a seamless outpouring of ideas as the trio go further and further out. Hopkins subsequently takes over for a lengthy but compelling bass solo backed only by McCall’s chattering drums and percussion. Threadgill’s impassioned alto subsequently returns before the trio reach an open ended conclusion.
There’s a faint air of the Middle East about Threadgill’s alto tone on “Dawn Of The Beast”.  “Air Song” itself is more consciously “ethnic” with Threadgill opening the piece on oriental sounding flute. He is subtly shadowed by Hopkins’ arco and McCall’s cymbals in this compelling and atmospheric piece. The velvet richness of Hopkins’ arco sound makes the perfect counterpoint to Threadgill’s airy flute. The bassist puts down the bow as the piece unfolds but the music is no less engrossing. McCall adds some exquisitely atmospheric percussion as the piece slowly gathers momentum. His role here is essentially that of colourist rather than timekeeper or beat provider.

“Air Song” is a superb example of how delicate improvised music can be in the right hands, the mood of mediation and tranquillity established at the start is maintained throughout and is utterly absorbing.

“Air Song” shows four different facets of Threadgill’s intriguing musical world and pretty much engages the listener throughout. It goes pretty far out at times but Threadgill always seems to pick the right moment to reel things back in. The contribution of his two colleagues, particularly the excellent Hopkins, who was to collaborate with Threadgill for years, should not be overlooked.
The trio went on to record another album for Why Not entitled “Afrisong”. On the evidence of this it would be good to have this made available again also.
CHICO FREEMAN “MORNING PRAYER”
The final item in this batch of re-releases is saxophonist Chico Freeman’s “Morning Prayer”. The cover states that this was recorded in 1978 but I suspect that it was actually taped at around the same time as the Air session reviewed above. Threadgill and McCall are common to both records , the latter here in the role of percussionist only. Joining these two plus Freeman are Muhal Richard Abrams (piano), Cecil McBee (bass and cello), Ben Montgomery (drums/percussion) and Douglas Ewart (flutes and percussion).
Like the Air album this was recorded in Chicago with Yuh producing (as on all four of these selections). Freeman (b.1949) is a native of the city, the son of tenor saxophonist Von Freeman b.1922). He (Chico) is a versatile player, adept on a range of reed instruments (he’s excellent on bass clarinet) and capable of playing in a variety of styles from relatively straight ahead to fusion to avant garde. 

This early album dates from a period when Freeman was under the influence of the AACM and is a fascinating merger of the ideas of that school with more conventional jazz virtues. All of the pieces are by Freeman and he is very much the leader with Threadgill the willing collaborator. The interplay between the two horns is fascinating, they often state lines in unison, and both horn men are powerful and imaginative soloists. Threadgill actually gets to go first on the driving opener “Like The Kind Of Peace it Is” with a fiery contribution on alto. Freeman follows on serpentine soprano and Abrams on piano. McBee, McCall and Montgomery add a considerable, if oddly metered rhythmic punch. The piece has a strong theme and there’s a lot going on here making for an assertive and arresting start.
“The In Between” is a tour de force for Freeman’s tenor in a pared down situation featuring just bass and drums. It’s high octane stuff and demonstrates Freeman’s enormous technical ability in a setting that combines simple riff based phrases with more avant garde ideas. All in all it’s pretty impressive stuff although I could have done without the obligatory drum interlude. 
“Conversations” is loosely blues based as is much of Freeman’s music. It’s comparatively simple framework is the vehicle for powerful and distinctive solos from Freeman on tenor, Abrams on piano and Threadgill on baritone.

Unfortunately the title track is the most dated thing on any of these four albums. It consists of twelve minutes plus hippie style noodling on flutes and percussion and never really goes anywhere. In some ways it’s a cousin to “Air Song” but unlike it’s companion it just doesn’t work. It was probably meant to sound profoundly spiritual at the time but now just seems irredeemably twee and embarrassing. Most listeners will probably hit the skip button and move on to the two takes of “Pepe’s Samba” that close the album.
“Morning Prayer” is the only one of this batch of new releases that includes a bonus track. A near nineteen minute out take of “Pepe’s Samba” is included here in addition to the album version. The original version begins with McBee’s powerful bass figure and the jaunty, punchy theme acts as the basis for some more strong soloing from Freeman and Threadgill above a rich rhythmic backdrop. McBee weighs in with a hugely impressive solo and also enters into a thrilling dialogue with pianist Abrams.
The extended version gives the group members even more room to stretch out with the twin percussionists indulging in lengthy features. Abrams also solos at length and this plus the sheer joyousness of the playing make this alternative version well worthy of inclusion.

With the exception of the misguided title track this is by and large a hugely enjoyable album and an interesting snapshot of the young Freeman’s career.

In the main all four of these albums sound remarkably fresh and unhackneyed more than thirty years on and Candid are to be congratulated on making them available again. All are worthy of a four star rating with Cables the most accessible to non avant gardists. However if I had to choose a personal favourite it would probably the remarkable album from Walt Dickerson, I don’t think I’ve heard the vibraphone utilised quite so superbly in a free jazz context.

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