After a period of sadness, I rejoiced at the death of griot Gil Scott-Heron who passed away Friday.
No, I wasn't happy that he's dead. I was relieved for him. I didn't know him directly but, like a lot of other people, he spoke to me through his poetry and music. News stories in recent years gave accounts of the hard times that had fallen upon him, losing his career and spiraling downward into substance abuse and other illnesses.
So, with physical death, he is free of the pain and torment that have dogged him the last couple of decades. His death also brings attention to his estimable body of work which changed the cultural fabric of the United States for the better. His astute analysis and searing commentary on America in the 1970's and 80's were profound.
He used the media of spoken word, jazz, percussion and blues, rooted in traditions that include Langston Hughes, Curtis Mayfield and John Coltrane.
He called himself a bluesologist.
He spoke powerfully. His message was Afrocentric, the prism through which he experienced the world but he spoke to all people of good will. His songs, deeply imbued with richness and heartfelt, were delivered in his distinctive baritone voice. While their voices were of different pitches, Scott-Heron's utterances were reminiscent of Malcolm X - strong, true, pointed and meaningful.
When listening to him, it seemed he was talking to you even though you knew millions of others heard him and felt the same way.
Since Friday, I've been revisiting his music. Its universality is even more prominent now. It's already classic.
He still speaks clearly.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
the jazz of malcolm x
Asalam Alaikum.
From adolescence until today I have been deeply influenced by El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz, better known as Malcolm X, the iconic freedom fighter, apostle of Pan-Africanism and international spokesperson for all people of goodwill and human rights in the mid-twentieth century.
Since his assassination in February 1965, a mythology has grown around his legacy.
Malcolm was the quintessential archetypal contradiction found in American life. He was raised on the Great Plains and in the Midwest by parents who were followers of Marcus Garvey, a Jamaican Black nationalist who had emigrated to the United States in the early twentieth century, rooting Malcolm in world views of other Black internationalists such as Martin Delaney, America's first Black nationalist who led a back-to-Africa movement in 1878 out of Charleston.
Malcolm joined family in the Northeast as a teenager and proceeded to a lifestyle of street hustling and crime. While in prison in Massachusetts, he converted to the Nation of Islam, a Black separatist religious sect for whom he became in later years the chief minister and fiery spokesperson.
The pre-NOI, secular time in his life had him mingling with jazz musicians. He hung out in clubs and dancehalls all up and down the Northeastern corridor. As it turns out, these musicians' craft taught him the showmanship and the affect that became an integral part of his style.
He was a sharp dresser. He was largely self taught. He was articulate. The cadence of his very eloquent speechmaking was that of bop.
As told in Manning Marable's new blockbuster biography, "Malcolm X, A Life of Reinvention," he had a kind of cultural symbiotic relationship with jazz players to the extent that many came under the influence of his teachings and rhetoric, such as John Coltrane, with some converting to Islam and/or taking Muslim names - Aminata Moseka (Abbey Lincoln), Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Liaquat Ali Salaam (Kenny Clarke), Emmanuel Abdul Rahim (Juan Amalbert), Abdullah Ibn Buhaina (Art Blakey), Yusef Lateef (William Evans), Aliyah Rabia Dawud (Dakota Staton), Jamil Bashir (Jaki Byard) and many others.
For me, what Malcolm and how he lived his life had most in common with jazz and its creators is an ongoing pursuit of excellence, open minded progress, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a seeking of spiritual enlightenment and fulfillment.
Alaikam as Salaam.
From adolescence until today I have been deeply influenced by El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz, better known as Malcolm X, the iconic freedom fighter, apostle of Pan-Africanism and international spokesperson for all people of goodwill and human rights in the mid-twentieth century.
Since his assassination in February 1965, a mythology has grown around his legacy.
Malcolm was the quintessential archetypal contradiction found in American life. He was raised on the Great Plains and in the Midwest by parents who were followers of Marcus Garvey, a Jamaican Black nationalist who had emigrated to the United States in the early twentieth century, rooting Malcolm in world views of other Black internationalists such as Martin Delaney, America's first Black nationalist who led a back-to-Africa movement in 1878 out of Charleston.
Malcolm joined family in the Northeast as a teenager and proceeded to a lifestyle of street hustling and crime. While in prison in Massachusetts, he converted to the Nation of Islam, a Black separatist religious sect for whom he became in later years the chief minister and fiery spokesperson.
The pre-NOI, secular time in his life had him mingling with jazz musicians. He hung out in clubs and dancehalls all up and down the Northeastern corridor. As it turns out, these musicians' craft taught him the showmanship and the affect that became an integral part of his style.
He was a sharp dresser. He was largely self taught. He was articulate. The cadence of his very eloquent speechmaking was that of bop.
As told in Manning Marable's new blockbuster biography, "Malcolm X, A Life of Reinvention," he had a kind of cultural symbiotic relationship with jazz players to the extent that many came under the influence of his teachings and rhetoric, such as John Coltrane, with some converting to Islam and/or taking Muslim names - Aminata Moseka (Abbey Lincoln), Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Liaquat Ali Salaam (Kenny Clarke), Emmanuel Abdul Rahim (Juan Amalbert), Abdullah Ibn Buhaina (Art Blakey), Yusef Lateef (William Evans), Aliyah Rabia Dawud (Dakota Staton), Jamil Bashir (Jaki Byard) and many others.
For me, what Malcolm and how he lived his life had most in common with jazz and its creators is an ongoing pursuit of excellence, open minded progress, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and a seeking of spiritual enlightenment and fulfillment.
Alaikam as Salaam.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
in praise of middle age
There are many blessings along the way as you march toward the inevitability of death of the flesh.
One of them is the accrual of resources with which you can practice your art - in my case, the craft of writing.
I just completed writing my JazzBeat(s) column on Prince, the iconic music performer. My goal was to share with my readers the jazz aspects of his life and music.
I think I succeeded in large part because I had at my disposal music, information and personal testimony from people knowledgeable about the world of the artist formerly known as a symbol.
I was hooked up with Prince' former road manager, Alan Leeds, who ran the traveling band in the 1980's when Prince and Miles Davis tried their hands at collaborating.
I was provided access to unreleased material that showed off Prince' jazz prowess.
Bob Belden, a record producer friend, shared an out-of-print copy of his 1993 album for Blue Note Japan PrinceJazz.
The audio archives of the Charleston Jazz Orchestra coughed up a recording of the CJO performing Prince' "1999" two years ago.
My colleague and CJO artistic director, Charlton Singleton, shared his knowledge and enthusiasm for Prince, providing examples of jazz in his voluminous book of tunes.
Relationships like the ones above can only be formed over a vast expanse of time after gaining the trust and respect of those you interact with.
It's a blessing that I truly appreciate. It's great to have gotten this far along in life and be able to reap some of the rewards of longevity, personal and professional.
One of them is the accrual of resources with which you can practice your art - in my case, the craft of writing.
I just completed writing my JazzBeat(s) column on Prince, the iconic music performer. My goal was to share with my readers the jazz aspects of his life and music.
I think I succeeded in large part because I had at my disposal music, information and personal testimony from people knowledgeable about the world of the artist formerly known as a symbol.
I was hooked up with Prince' former road manager, Alan Leeds, who ran the traveling band in the 1980's when Prince and Miles Davis tried their hands at collaborating.
I was provided access to unreleased material that showed off Prince' jazz prowess.
Bob Belden, a record producer friend, shared an out-of-print copy of his 1993 album for Blue Note Japan PrinceJazz.
The audio archives of the Charleston Jazz Orchestra coughed up a recording of the CJO performing Prince' "1999" two years ago.
My colleague and CJO artistic director, Charlton Singleton, shared his knowledge and enthusiasm for Prince, providing examples of jazz in his voluminous book of tunes.
Relationships like the ones above can only be formed over a vast expanse of time after gaining the trust and respect of those you interact with.
It's a blessing that I truly appreciate. It's great to have gotten this far along in life and be able to reap some of the rewards of longevity, personal and professional.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
god is love
"God is my friend, Jesus is my friend
He made this world for us to live in, and gave us everything
And all he asks of us is we give each other love."
(Anna Gaye, Elgie Stover, James Nyx, Marvin Gaye)
Performed by Marvin Gaye and the Funk Brothers
This afternoon, I had an experience that confirms he's right.
There's always evidence of things unseen.
I was alone at a small table at Five Loaves cafe enjoying a salad and some tea. About halfway into my savoring my delicious and nutritious meal, my server came over and suggested I save room for desert - not the usual entreaty offered at restaurants but because two young women at a nearby table wanted to buy me desert.
Intuitively, I knew who she was talking about. I was sitting in the front of the restaurant so all the floor space was in front of me and this day I had decided not to read or otherwise zone out while eating.
I had noticed them at a table with an older woman and a middle-age couple. We had exchanged glances a couple of times, not a furtive flirt, just pleasant acknowledgment. They appeared to be enjoying their meal and their company. They had smiling eyes and a fresh, clean aura. No guile. Like the bright, airy day outside.
I couldn't turn down their hospitality, so when I finished my salad I ordered a chocolate chip cookie.
They finished their meal before me. After paying, the older woman came over and said that her daughters noticed and liked my smile and wanted to buy me desert.
I was humbled.
We all introduced ourselves. Meeting the girls' mother and grandparents was as delightful as their vibe.
It was the best meal I've had in a long time.
I was fed more than salmon and greens. I had food for the soul.
I'm just thankful my light was shining enough this day to attract theirs..
My faith was not only confirmed, it was energized.
God is love.
He made this world for us to live in, and gave us everything
And all he asks of us is we give each other love."
(Anna Gaye, Elgie Stover, James Nyx, Marvin Gaye)
Performed by Marvin Gaye and the Funk Brothers
This afternoon, I had an experience that confirms he's right.
There's always evidence of things unseen.
I was alone at a small table at Five Loaves cafe enjoying a salad and some tea. About halfway into my savoring my delicious and nutritious meal, my server came over and suggested I save room for desert - not the usual entreaty offered at restaurants but because two young women at a nearby table wanted to buy me desert.
Intuitively, I knew who she was talking about. I was sitting in the front of the restaurant so all the floor space was in front of me and this day I had decided not to read or otherwise zone out while eating.
I had noticed them at a table with an older woman and a middle-age couple. We had exchanged glances a couple of times, not a furtive flirt, just pleasant acknowledgment. They appeared to be enjoying their meal and their company. They had smiling eyes and a fresh, clean aura. No guile. Like the bright, airy day outside.
I couldn't turn down their hospitality, so when I finished my salad I ordered a chocolate chip cookie.
They finished their meal before me. After paying, the older woman came over and said that her daughters noticed and liked my smile and wanted to buy me desert.
I was humbled.
We all introduced ourselves. Meeting the girls' mother and grandparents was as delightful as their vibe.
It was the best meal I've had in a long time.
I was fed more than salmon and greens. I had food for the soul.
I'm just thankful my light was shining enough this day to attract theirs..
My faith was not only confirmed, it was energized.
God is love.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
requiem for bob edwards
As I sit listening to John Coltrane playing "Out of This World" I'm dealing with a morning-after reaction to the loss of a dear friend, James Robert "Bob" Edwards.
He passed away last night, sadly alone in a rehabilitation center where he ended up after a traffic accident around Thanksgiving. Somehow I knew when I saw the call was from Dru Patterson, a friend of ours, that would be the the deal. It was late last night. Dru doesn't call me at night.
Bob, born on the fourth of July, was 80-years old, a Navy veteran and a great American.
I had met him about five years ago and we grew close. He was a confidante, a drinking buddy, a fellow lover of jazz music and a near, dear, trusted friend.
He was one of the jazziest people I know.
He never met a stranger. He was open minded and young at heart. He knew how to establish common ground with people. He would help you before he would hurt you.
Bob, as meticulous as they come, was a sharp dresser and a connoisseur of fine food and drink.
He was no pushover, though. He was very opinionated and, most importantly, he had the strength of his convictions. He marched to his own drummer. The beats he heard came from the rich life he had lived traveling the world, raising a family, being an astute businessman, and making friends wherever he went.
Listening to Trane while writing this put me in touch with Bob. His version of "Out of This World" is full of intensity, beauty, warmth, insight and depth in its long, rambling exploration.
Just like Bob.
I'm missing him already. But that 's only in the flesh.
Like Trane, his spirit will always be around.
Rest easy, my man. Keep swingin'.
He passed away last night, sadly alone in a rehabilitation center where he ended up after a traffic accident around Thanksgiving. Somehow I knew when I saw the call was from Dru Patterson, a friend of ours, that would be the the deal. It was late last night. Dru doesn't call me at night.
Bob, born on the fourth of July, was 80-years old, a Navy veteran and a great American.
I had met him about five years ago and we grew close. He was a confidante, a drinking buddy, a fellow lover of jazz music and a near, dear, trusted friend.
He was one of the jazziest people I know.
He never met a stranger. He was open minded and young at heart. He knew how to establish common ground with people. He would help you before he would hurt you.
Bob, as meticulous as they come, was a sharp dresser and a connoisseur of fine food and drink.
He was no pushover, though. He was very opinionated and, most importantly, he had the strength of his convictions. He marched to his own drummer. The beats he heard came from the rich life he had lived traveling the world, raising a family, being an astute businessman, and making friends wherever he went.
Listening to Trane while writing this put me in touch with Bob. His version of "Out of This World" is full of intensity, beauty, warmth, insight and depth in its long, rambling exploration.
Just like Bob.
I'm missing him already. But that 's only in the flesh.
Like Trane, his spirit will always be around.
Rest easy, my man. Keep swingin'.
Monday, February 14, 2011
ellington saturday in charleston
Feb. 12 was Duke Ellington Saturday for me. I certainly didn't set it up to be that way but it was anyway. And that's alright with me.
I was anticipating the day because it was the date of the collaboration between the Charleston Ballet Theatre and members of the Charleston Jazz Orchestra. Charlton Singleton led Tommy Gill, Quentin Baxter, Kevin Hamilton, Stephen Spaulding, John Cobb and Mark Sterbank in their rendition of Duke's Far East Suite accompanied by dancers from CBT.
Held at the House of Swing, the Charleston Music Hall, it was out of this world.
As fate would have it, I started the afternoon stopping by Ellington, a women's apparel and accessories store on King St. The owner, Cindy Gaetke, had told me she was having some wine and snacks that afternoon for her customers, many of whom were attending the ballet later around the corner. The store, located right next door to the CBT studio, is named after Duke, one of her and he husband Jeff's favorite musicians.
In fact, Jeff played his bass with his brother Tom on keys and Keith Namm on clarinet that day during the informal reception. They do this at the store at least once a month and have been doing it for years. Of course, they played from the Ellington book, "It Don't Mean A Thing," "Solitude" and many others.
It was a fabulous omen for the show. I was primed by the fact that on that day I seemed surrounded by Duke, a state that wouldn't bother me to live in the rest of my life.
I was anticipating the day because it was the date of the collaboration between the Charleston Ballet Theatre and members of the Charleston Jazz Orchestra. Charlton Singleton led Tommy Gill, Quentin Baxter, Kevin Hamilton, Stephen Spaulding, John Cobb and Mark Sterbank in their rendition of Duke's Far East Suite accompanied by dancers from CBT.
Held at the House of Swing, the Charleston Music Hall, it was out of this world.
As fate would have it, I started the afternoon stopping by Ellington, a women's apparel and accessories store on King St. The owner, Cindy Gaetke, had told me she was having some wine and snacks that afternoon for her customers, many of whom were attending the ballet later around the corner. The store, located right next door to the CBT studio, is named after Duke, one of her and he husband Jeff's favorite musicians.
In fact, Jeff played his bass with his brother Tom on keys and Keith Namm on clarinet that day during the informal reception. They do this at the store at least once a month and have been doing it for years. Of course, they played from the Ellington book, "It Don't Mean A Thing," "Solitude" and many others.
It was a fabulous omen for the show. I was primed by the fact that on that day I seemed surrounded by Duke, a state that wouldn't bother me to live in the rest of my life.
Monday, October 19, 2009
long live Latin
There's a must-see PBS documentary called Latin Music USA. It is a fabulous piece of filmmaking that provides insights into the history, impact and effect of the fusions of Latin sounds with jazz, rock, country and rhythm and blues.
It aired on Oct. 12 and 19, two, one-hour segments each night.
The series gets it right. In the 1930's, jazz was the first North American form to be influenced by and influence Latin music, particularly the music of Cuba and led by South Carolinian Dizzy Gillespie.
The doc is historically accurate, fully respectful of the Latin form, entertaining and full of substance.
Although it has run already, you can purchase a recording. You can also see it on your computer. Go to PBS.org, then hit the ShopPBS button to buy a CD or DVD. To watch the doc on your computer, hit the WATCH NOW button on PBS.org. Under its Programs button, there's a drop-down menu where Latin Music USA will appear in alphabetical order on the list. Click on it.
Featured artists include Willie Colón and Marc Anthony; Flaco Jiménez; Carlos Santana; Linda Ronstadt; Los Lobos, Gloria and Emilio Estefan; Ricky Martin and Juanes; Pitbull, Daddy Yankee and Tego Calderón, and Lin-Manuel Miranda.
One of the nicer touches is the use of "Oye Como Va" as a kind of theme. This classic was written by mambo king Tito Puente in 1963 and popularized by Santana in 1970, a year after the Bay Area band introduced Latin music to rock 'n roll at Woodstock.
One of the many things I learned was the fact that I knew even less about Tejano than I thought.
This doc gives as full a treatment as I've seen to describing Reggaeton, the latest manifestation of urban Latin music.
The film also made me aware of "In the Heights," a Broadway musical from 2008 that won a Tony Award. It showcased merengue, salsa, souls music and hip hop.
The images, especially the archival stills and film, are stunning. The editing gives a nice pace to the piece and still allows full treatments to subjects that deserve them.
Here's the content:
Program One-The first program traces the rise of Latin jazz and the explosion of the mambo and the cha cha chá. Latin Music infiltrates R&B and rock 'n roll through the 1960's.
Program Two-Puerto Ricans and other Latinos in New York reinvent the Cuban son and the Puerto Rican plena, adding elements from soul and jazz to create salsa.
Program Three-Mexican-Americans in California, Texas and across the Southwest create their own distinct musical voices during the second half of the 20th century.
Program Four-The last program looks at the Latin pop explosion of the turn of the century, focusing on the success of artists like Ricky Martin, Gloria Estefan and Shakira.
In the way we look at the world today, Latin music and culture are probably more American than any other. American no longer refers only to the United States.
Latin Music USA does nothing to dispel that.
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