On July 17 1971 it will be four years since John Coltrane died. Unquestionably, he is one of the greatest innovators in jazz history, and will eventually be recognized as one of the most significant contributors to 20th century music.
But in today's distorted perspective, where yesterday is old and two days ago is ancient, he is already being forgotten. More precisely, he hasn't even been fully discovered, or appreciated. His music is the root of much of today's musical thrust. For that reason alone it deserves another look.
From the seriousness of his music as well as his words (there is no music in the Coltrane discography which is "light") it becomes clear that a vital religious energy motivated him. But it was a cosmic religiousity, the utter opposite of anything provincial. Thus, Coltrane was able to say much more than the private utterings of some little sect can convey. Nor was his music political in any narrow sense. Instead, he was political in the manner of Plato's Republic.
He bore witness to the timeless agony he saw in America's youth with a profound lament (Alabama, Impulse A-50) yet, several years later he was able to play as serene a song of hope as Welcome (Impulse A-910). Trane's music, like all great music, transcended the immediate even while being affected by it.
Trane's career as an artist of great stature covered a period of some 12 years- from 1955 to 1967. Throughout this period, his music evolved. His was a unique voice in jazz, influencing countless others. But it was principally in the last years of his life that he showed his enormous influence on music. Consequently, they merit our central attention.
What did John Coltrane do? First he played the saxophone. Alto, then tenor. Later, he added soprano, and even began using the bass clarinet (Reverend King, Impulse 9148) and flute (To Be, Impulse 9120). So well did he play the tenor, or at least so convincingly that he influenced the playing of practically every living jazz saxophonist. That upper register timbre (from middle D and up) ranging from celloish to crackling stiff, shows itself in the sounds of Wayne Shorter, Charles Lloyd and Pharoah Sanders, to name but a few. Similarly, his lower register, in which the upper register seems to be lingering and trying to assert itself (hear him on Offering, Impulse A-9120) has influenced many; Shorter is probably the best example.
“Tone” isn't the only area in which he was influential. The very form of his solos is reflected in countless others. His use of triplet-sounding phrases before and after longer statements, for instance, is now part of the standard repertoire of jazz saxophone playing. Trane's employment of vocal elements has similarly found its way to the most unlikely places (e.g. the increased vocalization of the music of Lee Konitz, a brilliant innovator in his own right.)
Or consider the now occasional use of a near-scream in the lyrical playing of Stan Getz. Even here, the Coltrane influence is discernible. Trane's fusion of rhythm and melody, coupled with the impression of playing “differently than” the rhythm section, is also a contemporary practice; it has even assumed the proportions of a convention. Think for a minute: When did you last hear a contemporary saxophonist playing on top of the beat? (For those who think Trane couldn't or didn't do this; hear him on Stevie, Impulse A-30.
Eddie Harris deserves the unofficial of high-note saxophone champion. Yet it is Coltrane’s style of playing, the ultra-high register (and octave above high F#) that predominates on the saxophone scene.
Coltrane’s impact on saxophonists is known and obvious and if it were the only dimension of his influence, he would merely be an important instrumental stylist, affecting only players of his particular instrument(s). But his mark on music is deeper and far more subtle.
Throughtout the history of jazz, the innovators, it is said, have altered the music’s dominant rhythmic conception. Witness Louis Armstrong, Lester Young, Charlie Parker and Sonny Rollins. No less than these did Trane change the prevailing rhythmic atmosphere in which he found himself. In the early days of his career as leader, even through Giant Steps, his rhythm sections were still employing the 4/4 of inherited concepts. But even in those early days, the seeds of a rhythmic revolutions were evident. Coltrane’s solos were always infused with an unusual rhythmic conception. Even while the 4/4 tradition was being maintained in the rhythm section, above it - in his solos – there was the clear indication of counter rhythms (Countdown and Spiral, both in the Giant Steps album).
Above is the first part of Gordon Kopulos' retrospective from the July 22nd 1971 issue of DownBeat magazine. The second part will feature in a future blog entry.
But in today's distorted perspective, where yesterday is old and two days ago is ancient, he is already being forgotten. More precisely, he hasn't even been fully discovered, or appreciated. His music is the root of much of today's musical thrust. For that reason alone it deserves another look.
From the seriousness of his music as well as his words (there is no music in the Coltrane discography which is "light") it becomes clear that a vital religious energy motivated him. But it was a cosmic religiousity, the utter opposite of anything provincial. Thus, Coltrane was able to say much more than the private utterings of some little sect can convey. Nor was his music political in any narrow sense. Instead, he was political in the manner of Plato's Republic.
He bore witness to the timeless agony he saw in America's youth with a profound lament (Alabama, Impulse A-50) yet, several years later he was able to play as serene a song of hope as Welcome (Impulse A-910). Trane's music, like all great music, transcended the immediate even while being affected by it.
Trane's career as an artist of great stature covered a period of some 12 years- from 1955 to 1967. Throughout this period, his music evolved. His was a unique voice in jazz, influencing countless others. But it was principally in the last years of his life that he showed his enormous influence on music. Consequently, they merit our central attention.
“Tone” isn't the only area in which he was influential. The very form of his solos is reflected in countless others. His use of triplet-sounding phrases before and after longer statements, for instance, is now part of the standard repertoire of jazz saxophone playing. Trane's employment of vocal elements has similarly found its way to the most unlikely places (e.g. the increased vocalization of the music of Lee Konitz, a brilliant innovator in his own right.)
Or consider the now occasional use of a near-scream in the lyrical playing of Stan Getz. Even here, the Coltrane influence is discernible. Trane's fusion of rhythm and melody, coupled with the impression of playing “differently than” the rhythm section, is also a contemporary practice; it has even assumed the proportions of a convention. Think for a minute: When did you last hear a contemporary saxophonist playing on top of the beat? (For those who think Trane couldn't or didn't do this; hear him on Stevie, Impulse A-30.Eddie Harris deserves the unofficial of high-note saxophone champion. Yet it is Coltrane’s style of playing, the ultra-high register (and octave above high F#) that predominates on the saxophone scene.
Coltrane’s impact on saxophonists is known and obvious and if it were the only dimension of his influence, he would merely be an important instrumental stylist, affecting only players of his particular instrument(s). But his mark on music is deeper and far more subtle.
Throughtout the history of jazz, the innovators, it is said, have altered the music’s dominant rhythmic conception. Witness Louis Armstrong, Lester Young, Charlie Parker and Sonny Rollins. No less than these did Trane change the prevailing rhythmic atmosphere in which he found himself. In the early days of his career as leader, even through Giant Steps, his rhythm sections were still employing the 4/4 of inherited concepts. But even in those early days, the seeds of a rhythmic revolutions were evident. Coltrane’s solos were always infused with an unusual rhythmic conception. Even while the 4/4 tradition was being maintained in the rhythm section, above it - in his solos – there was the clear indication of counter rhythms (Countdown and Spiral, both in the Giant Steps album).
Above is the first part of Gordon Kopulos' retrospective from the July 22nd 1971 issue of DownBeat magazine. The second part will feature in a future blog entry.
Comments
Post a Comment