Paul Bley was an important activist and musician in the Free Jazz movement, playing in some pivotal groups. He was a key player in the 1964 October Revolution, and founder of the Jazz Composers Guild. He also became an important proponent of improvised synthesiser music in the early 1970s.
The New Jazz Musings - The Jazz Composers Guild
AN INTRODUCTION BY KEITH KNOX
PAUL BLEY was born on November 10th, 1932, in Montreal, Quebec and commenced his music studies early, playing violin at five and piano at the age of eight. When eleven he obtained a junior music diploma from the McGill Conservatory. At high school he led his own school band, but his first professional job came in 1945 when he took a quartet into the Chalet Hotel, Montreal, for a residency lasting some three years. In 1949, when Oscar Peterson left Canada for the U.S.A. and eventual fame, Paul Bley took over Peterson’s abandoned bassist and drummer, Ozzie Roberts and Clarence Jones, to form a highly successful cocktail jazz trio. For nearly a year the group was resident at the Alberta Lounge.
At this point Bley broke up the trio, feeling it necessary that he should continue his musical studies. He left for New York, where he studied composition and conducting at the Julliard School of Music, eventually returning to Canada in 1952.
Again in Montreal, he did a weekly TV series for the ‘Jazz Workshop’, and reports of Bley’s talents spread. He met Charlie Mingus on one of the bassist’s infrequent trips to Canada, and Mingus was quite impressed. Several attractive offers were received from U.S. night clubs and in 1954 he left once more for New York where he was well received at Birdland and Basin Street. Charles Mingus arranged a first recording on his own Debut label, which featured Mingus and Art Blakey together with Paul Bley. By and large this was a very successful recording, which swung mightily, although in view of the stature of his accompanists this was not perhaps Bley’s completely personal statement. The piano style was mature and quite recognisable, with a firm touch, an economy of notes, and a tendency to lag behind the beat in a way reminiscent of Billie Holiday.
A second recording for Wing, a subsidiary of Mercury, was made in three sessions during 1954, featuring drummer AI Levitt and Peter Ind, replaced by Percy Heath for one session, on bass. The music was happy, less intense than the earlier Debut recording, and still very swinging. The delight at the discovery of choice turns of phrase comes across very strongly and the long singing lines frequently have the sound of surprise. An interesting original, My Heart, makes an appearance, the remaining numbers being standards. The excellent work of Peter Ind on bass should be particularly noted. This album may not be the most profound, but it is certainly one of the most enjoyable I know.
Paul Bley worked for a time during 1955 with the Chet Baker Quartet and leaving Baker he settled on the west coast, forming a group which included bassist Charlie Haden and drummer Billy Higgins, adding Dave Pike on vibes in 1956. During 1958 Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry joined and Pike left to form his own quartet. Before this the quartet, comprising Pike, Charlie Haden and drummer Lennie McBrowne, recorded an interesting album for Gene Norman’s GNP label under Bley’s leadership. Two rather different approaches were used, one a free swinging improvisational style, and a second rather more compositional style. Credit should be given to the sterling performance throughout by bassist Charlie Haden, though Bley is very much in charge of the proceedings, with a direct, rather austere attack, which produces some surprising results. His touch is firm and very positive, and throws the relative floweriness of Dave Pike’s vibes into marked relief. The group swings powerfully on Birks Works and Persian Village, with the sharp contrast between Bley and Pike being used most effectively, while O Plus One is an interesting piece by Carla Borg (now Carla Bley). Dave Pike fades into the background to leave Porgy to Bley, who places his stamp firmly on a very fine interpretation. The album as a whole represented a decided step forward for Bley towards music of striking individuality.
The quartet broke up later in 1959 and Bley worked for a while with Charles Mingus, appearing on the Candid recording ‘Lock ‘em Up’. This was not a particularly good setting for Bley’s talents and he sounds somewhat undistinguished.
George Russell wished to use two pianos for sections of his ‘Jazz in the Space Age’ suite, and called on Bley to play opposite Bill Evans for the sections entitled ‘Chromatic Universe’. Russell pays tribute to Bley’s technical equipment and the results certainly bear witness to this, The free unaccompanied piano duet at the beginning of part two of the ‘Chromatic Universe’ is one of the most exciting sounds I know, with Evans and Bley stimulating each other in a fascinating interplay.
In February 1961 Jimmy Giuffre formed a trio comprising himself on clarinet, Steve Swallow on bass, and Paul Bley on piano. The group remained together in its original form for something over a year, recording three albums in that time, two for Verve and one for Columbia. Considered together these albums provide a testament to a fine spirit of musical adventure in performances of disconcertingly original material, mainly by Giuffre. Three pieces were written for the trio by Carla Bley and one by Paul Bley. The requirements placed on individual musicianship were of the highest order, and the success of most of the recorded results speak volumes for the talent shown, both individually and as a group. Regarding the third album ‘Free Fall’, Martin Williams had this to say (Evergreen Review—reprinted in Jazz, June 1965):
“Giuffre’s themes do not necessarily set up harmonic outlines. They suggest keys, scales, fragments of melody, or simply moods to be explored—sometimes by Giufire entirely solo, sometimes in duos with Steve Swallow's bass, sometimes in trio with Paul Bley’s piano. Indeed there is occasionally no theme, but the total invention of a piece. Also, each man has explored his instrument beyond its supposed limitations, and each uses his discoveries in improvising: Giuffre himself even achieving two simultaneous pitches on occasion; Bley reaching inside his instrument to pluck or mute a string; and Swallow plucking, bowing, old-time slapping and unapologetically tapping the side of his bass like a drum.”
The improvisation of the Giuffre trio lay somewhere in the no-man’s land between contemporary classical and jazz persuasions, but it was exciting music that could’be brought to fruition only by accomplished jazz musicians. Not to hear the best of these recorded performances is to miss a rare musical experience and my only regret is that more Carla Bley compositions were not included. Those that were used, Jesus Maria and In The Mornings Out There (from “Fusion”), and /ctus (from “Thesis”) formed the basis for some very lovely music.
July 1962 found Paul Bley in Los Angeles, where he was called to a session with visiting trumpeter Don Ellis, under the auspices of the American Guild of Organists. The single afternoon and evening session at the Lighthouse Club, Hermosa Beach, was apparently a great success, and a recording for Pacific Jazz was arranged using the same group. This comprised Don Ellis, Bley, bassist Gary Peacock, with Gene Stone and Nick Martinis taking turns at the drums, waste paper basket and so forth. This recording is something of a curate’s egg, presenting some amusing and enterprising happenings, some excellent jazz, and some rather mawkish sections. The solitary Carla Bley composition Donkey is the highspot for me, with Paul Bley extensively featured and Gary Peacock adding a helpful bass line. Johnny Come Lately is taken as a straight ahead piece in the style of old-time Cecil Taylor, with Ellis playing superb trumpet and getting a very brilliant tone. What I miss with Ellis’s work, however, is that sound of surprise, whereas Bley can astonish given
an opportunity. For this reason perhaps, the group is most successful at happenings, or aleatics, because such events are sufficiently random for surprises to be really very few and one can simply be entertained, Ellis has scored the background to his improvised solo in Slow Space with great effect and Bley positively shines in his solo. Ostinato is an Ellis composition using a multiplicity of rhythms, an area in which he excels, and the result is very successful. The ridiculously fast Lover contains little music of lasting interest.
Early in 1963 Bley was in New York, involved in the avant-garde area. A short-lived rehearsal band commenced operations which included Don Ellis, trombonist Roswell Rudd, Steve Lacy on soprano sax, bassists Gary Peacock and Steve Swallow, Don Heckman on alto, Joe Farrell on tenor, and pianists Steve Kuhn and Paul Bley.
In the late spring of 1963 Paul Bley joined a newly formed Sonny Rollins quartet, which played the Newport jazz festival of that year. At the time the quartet included Rollins, Bley, bassist Henry Grimes and drummer Roy McCurdy. Coleman Hawkins was added as a guest for one successful set, parts of which were recorded by RCA. Whilst Bley performed admirably as a sideman he was not given a great deal of exposure and the hornmen provided most of the interest. On the studio recording for RCA by the same band, Bley plays a couple of solos of reasonable interest, on Rollins’s At McKies and All The Things You Are, but gives little idea of the originality of which he is capable.
Leaving Rollins, Paul Bley set about making his way on the New York avant-garde scene, playing as and where he could, mainly on the coffee house and bar circuit, in such places as the Cellar Cafe, the Take Three and later at Slug’s Saloon on the lower east side.
During 1964 he recorded for Savoy, using a trio featuring bassist Steve Swallow and Pete La Roca on drums. Five of the themes were Carla Bley compositions, with a couple by Paul Bley and one by Ornette Coleman. The music is highly organised, with a strongly projected emotional message in a variety of textures and hues. Above all the result is extremely musical as it journeys through the ways of contemporary freedom. Swallow and La Roca are completely with Bley through the whole proceedings, making wonderful trio music. Steve Swallow adds a delightful raga-like touch to Carla Bley’s Vashkar, so that the piece seems to sway rather than swing. King Korn, also by Carla Bley, sounds like a very funny parody of a TV jingle. Sleeve note writer Paul Haines hits the nail firmly on the head when he says:
“Bley rids the studio of musical impediments by playing everything all over again for the first time.
This tempers well with Paul Bley’s own words (Down Beat, March 12th, 1964):
“I'm against freedom in the wide sense, if freedom means free improvisation rather than free jazz, that’s where I draw the line. Sure, take a theme if you need one, and usually you do, and play on it—it can be at a certain tempo and maintain that tempo, it can have retards, it can leave the tempo—preferably a piece with a strong character that can be elaborated on. It may even be a shape of melody that can be elaborated on—or even the exact opposite. You can approach a piece as an antipiece, for example. But whatever you use, there has to be a groove to get into. That’s the hard part. Once you're into it, you don’t have to keep deciding whether or not the next phrase is going to be good or not.”
In October 1964 a fairly successful avant-garde jazz festival at the Cellar Cafe, in New York, sparked the first organised rumblings of the Jazz Composer’s Guild. The charter members were culled from the participants in what became known as the ‘October Revolution’, and included Jon Winter, Burton Greene, Bill Dixon, Le Sun Ra, Paul and Carla Bley, Roswell Rudd, Mike Mantler,
Cecil Taylor, John Tchicai and Archie Shepp. The Jazz Composer's Guild approached an attorney, Bernard Stollman, asking if he would extend legal advice to the Guild, but for a variety of reasons a certain amount of antipathy grew up between the two parties. Stollman, who was something of a friend of the avant-garde, commenced operations with his own recording company. Whatever the
pros and cons, it was good to see and hear avant-garde recordings being issued by Stollman’s new ESP label.
Paul Bley’s first album for ESP and Stollman was recorded in October 1964, by a quintet of himself, Marshall Allen (alto), Dewey Johnson (trumpet), bassist Eddie Gomez and Milford Graves on drums. This was Bley’s first recording under his own aegis wk: used horns and is therefore of particular interest, especially since all the themes were by Carla Bley. In fact the album abounds more in enthusiasm than talent and although it is possible to appreciate the way in which Bley strives for a free metrical base, the hornmen pace things rather badly and produce a series of hysterical toccatas, wild and perhaps exciting, but not particularly musical. Paul Bley himself improvises with all the organisation and aplomb that one comes to expect, and very excitingly, but he is crowded out by the sheer decibels of the rest of the band. Milford Graves was never the most sensitive of drummers and here he roars and chugs with magnificent glee and momentum. Marshall Allen is normally the main altoist with Le Sun Ra’s Arkestra, perhaps a better setting for him, and one in which his particular talents are more appropriate. Dewey Johnson is fleet without being emphatic and his rather small trumpet tone is something of a hindrance, although he projects with success on the plaintive And Now The Queen. Taken as a whole this album demonstrates future potential rather than actual present results and is only partially of interest.
In May 1965 Paul Bley recorded a second album for Stollman’s ESP label, this time with a trio including Steve Swallow on bass and drummer Barry Altschul. Bley himself has registered some dissatisfaction with the quintet recording discussed above, and it seems very likely that this trio session was in some measure a reaction to the hysteria generated by the quintet. Certainly the music produced by the trio on this occasion was very peaceful by comparison, with a kind of delicate charm pervading. All in all, the album is a moving dissertation on some startlingly beautiful thematic material, all of which was provided by Carla Bley. One of the most delightful tracks is Ida Lupino, with a gentle Latin tinge and a charming ballad melody. On the faster numbers Bley’s predilection for a rather restricted region of the piano is much in evidence. This he turns to tood effect with his somewhat conversational manner, achieving by his touch much more of a speech inflected sound than one would have thought possible.
In October 1965 Paul Bley travelled to Europe with the Jazz Composer's Guild Orchestra, making radio and television appearances in Germany. He left to play a trio engagement during November at the Jazzhus Montmartre in Copenhagen, accompanied by bassist Kent Carter and drummer Barry Altschul. Whilst I did not find the opportunity to listen to the trio in person, I did hear a Danish recording broadcast over the Swedish radio. No titles or composer credits were given but the music itself was excellent. From the broadcast it was possible, I think, to gain some idea of what Bley was trying to achieve with his first ESP recording, although here the emotive range was greatly wider, the pieces ranging from tender ballads to sounds of heated excitement. The thematic material was strong throughout the programme, which included such items as Around Again and Ida Lupino, and the organisation within a fairly free framework was at all times powerful, with Bley very much in control, well supported by-Carter. Barry Altschul achieved a large measure of rhythmic complexity at times, with a transparency that did not submerge the group under a barrage, and instead engendered a feeling of spaciousness. The rhythmic adventurousness shown here was significantly greater than was evidenced in the trio recording for ESP, probably because the group had by now worked together for some time and had gained in confidence.
A recording was made for Debut during the period of the Copenhagen engagement, again with the trio featuring Kent Carter and Barry Altschul. The thematic material was somewhat different from that used on the broadcast and included three pieces by Annette Peacock, wife of bassist Gary Peacock. One composition was provided by Carla, and one by Paul Bley. The remaining title, Pablo, was more or less of a free improvisation, credited to Paul Bley. I feel that the Debut album is less gripping than the radio broadcast, largely because the compositions are less entrancing. The trio in fact functions very well, swaying, swinging and floating in the strange manner we have come to expect. The effect is curious, with the piano as a kind of pivot centre for the group, providing a fixed pitch reference in music of indeterminate pitch. By this 1 mean that the music sways, raga-like, around the piano, at times almost washing completely over it. Bley seems aware of this anomaly and tries to overcome it by at times producing sounds of indeterminate pitch from within the piano, muting and damping the strings as he plucks them. This is a technique he had not used extensively to my knowledge since leaving the Jimmy Giuflre trio. The variety and use of these sounds is very pleasing and lends a new dimension to the perhaps rather sombre sound of the group. On the whole I find the Debut album, whilst perhaps not completely successful, certainly an extraordinarily interesting recording and one which could point the way ahead for the avant-garde jazz pianist looking for a viable alternative to the approaches of Cecil Taylor, Keith Jarrett et al.
During 1966 the Paul Bley trio travelled to Buenos Aires for the Argentine jazz festival, returning to the U.S.A. where they featured in several concerts, notably at Hunter College and Astor Place Playhouse in New York City. Towards the end of the year, Bley is returning once more to Europe with an engagement scheduled in London, amongst other venues. It will be interesting to see if his music continues to develop and progress in the remarkable way it has so far done.
Ref : Jazz Monthly Christmas 1966
The New Jazz Musings - The Jazz Composers Guild
AN INTRODUCTION BY KEITH KNOX
At this point Bley broke up the trio, feeling it necessary that he should continue his musical studies. He left for New York, where he studied composition and conducting at the Julliard School of Music, eventually returning to Canada in 1952.
Again in Montreal, he did a weekly TV series for the ‘Jazz Workshop’, and reports of Bley’s talents spread. He met Charlie Mingus on one of the bassist’s infrequent trips to Canada, and Mingus was quite impressed. Several attractive offers were received from U.S. night clubs and in 1954 he left once more for New York where he was well received at Birdland and Basin Street. Charles Mingus arranged a first recording on his own Debut label, which featured Mingus and Art Blakey together with Paul Bley. By and large this was a very successful recording, which swung mightily, although in view of the stature of his accompanists this was not perhaps Bley’s completely personal statement. The piano style was mature and quite recognisable, with a firm touch, an economy of notes, and a tendency to lag behind the beat in a way reminiscent of Billie Holiday.
A second recording for Wing, a subsidiary of Mercury, was made in three sessions during 1954, featuring drummer AI Levitt and Peter Ind, replaced by Percy Heath for one session, on bass. The music was happy, less intense than the earlier Debut recording, and still very swinging. The delight at the discovery of choice turns of phrase comes across very strongly and the long singing lines frequently have the sound of surprise. An interesting original, My Heart, makes an appearance, the remaining numbers being standards. The excellent work of Peter Ind on bass should be particularly noted. This album may not be the most profound, but it is certainly one of the most enjoyable I know.
The quartet broke up later in 1959 and Bley worked for a while with Charles Mingus, appearing on the Candid recording ‘Lock ‘em Up’. This was not a particularly good setting for Bley’s talents and he sounds somewhat undistinguished.
George Russell wished to use two pianos for sections of his ‘Jazz in the Space Age’ suite, and called on Bley to play opposite Bill Evans for the sections entitled ‘Chromatic Universe’. Russell pays tribute to Bley’s technical equipment and the results certainly bear witness to this, The free unaccompanied piano duet at the beginning of part two of the ‘Chromatic Universe’ is one of the most exciting sounds I know, with Evans and Bley stimulating each other in a fascinating interplay.
In February 1961 Jimmy Giuffre formed a trio comprising himself on clarinet, Steve Swallow on bass, and Paul Bley on piano. The group remained together in its original form for something over a year, recording three albums in that time, two for Verve and one for Columbia. Considered together these albums provide a testament to a fine spirit of musical adventure in performances of disconcertingly original material, mainly by Giuffre. Three pieces were written for the trio by Carla Bley and one by Paul Bley. The requirements placed on individual musicianship were of the highest order, and the success of most of the recorded results speak volumes for the talent shown, both individually and as a group. Regarding the third album ‘Free Fall’, Martin Williams had this to say (Evergreen Review—reprinted in Jazz, June 1965):“Giuffre’s themes do not necessarily set up harmonic outlines. They suggest keys, scales, fragments of melody, or simply moods to be explored—sometimes by Giufire entirely solo, sometimes in duos with Steve Swallow's bass, sometimes in trio with Paul Bley’s piano. Indeed there is occasionally no theme, but the total invention of a piece. Also, each man has explored his instrument beyond its supposed limitations, and each uses his discoveries in improvising: Giuffre himself even achieving two simultaneous pitches on occasion; Bley reaching inside his instrument to pluck or mute a string; and Swallow plucking, bowing, old-time slapping and unapologetically tapping the side of his bass like a drum.”
The improvisation of the Giuffre trio lay somewhere in the no-man’s land between contemporary classical and jazz persuasions, but it was exciting music that could’be brought to fruition only by accomplished jazz musicians. Not to hear the best of these recorded performances is to miss a rare musical experience and my only regret is that more Carla Bley compositions were not included. Those that were used, Jesus Maria and In The Mornings Out There (from “Fusion”), and /ctus (from “Thesis”) formed the basis for some very lovely music.
July 1962 found Paul Bley in Los Angeles, where he was called to a session with visiting trumpeter Don Ellis, under the auspices of the American Guild of Organists. The single afternoon and evening session at the Lighthouse Club, Hermosa Beach, was apparently a great success, and a recording for Pacific Jazz was arranged using the same group. This comprised Don Ellis, Bley, bassist Gary Peacock, with Gene Stone and Nick Martinis taking turns at the drums, waste paper basket and so forth. This recording is something of a curate’s egg, presenting some amusing and enterprising happenings, some excellent jazz, and some rather mawkish sections. The solitary Carla Bley composition Donkey is the highspot for me, with Paul Bley extensively featured and Gary Peacock adding a helpful bass line. Johnny Come Lately is taken as a straight ahead piece in the style of old-time Cecil Taylor, with Ellis playing superb trumpet and getting a very brilliant tone. What I miss with Ellis’s work, however, is that sound of surprise, whereas Bley can astonish given
an opportunity. For this reason perhaps, the group is most successful at happenings, or aleatics, because such events are sufficiently random for surprises to be really very few and one can simply be entertained, Ellis has scored the background to his improvised solo in Slow Space with great effect and Bley positively shines in his solo. Ostinato is an Ellis composition using a multiplicity of rhythms, an area in which he excels, and the result is very successful. The ridiculously fast Lover contains little music of lasting interest.
Early in 1963 Bley was in New York, involved in the avant-garde area. A short-lived rehearsal band commenced operations which included Don Ellis, trombonist Roswell Rudd, Steve Lacy on soprano sax, bassists Gary Peacock and Steve Swallow, Don Heckman on alto, Joe Farrell on tenor, and pianists Steve Kuhn and Paul Bley.
In the late spring of 1963 Paul Bley joined a newly formed Sonny Rollins quartet, which played the Newport jazz festival of that year. At the time the quartet included Rollins, Bley, bassist Henry Grimes and drummer Roy McCurdy. Coleman Hawkins was added as a guest for one successful set, parts of which were recorded by RCA. Whilst Bley performed admirably as a sideman he was not given a great deal of exposure and the hornmen provided most of the interest. On the studio recording for RCA by the same band, Bley plays a couple of solos of reasonable interest, on Rollins’s At McKies and All The Things You Are, but gives little idea of the originality of which he is capable.
Leaving Rollins, Paul Bley set about making his way on the New York avant-garde scene, playing as and where he could, mainly on the coffee house and bar circuit, in such places as the Cellar Cafe, the Take Three and later at Slug’s Saloon on the lower east side.
During 1964 he recorded for Savoy, using a trio featuring bassist Steve Swallow and Pete La Roca on drums. Five of the themes were Carla Bley compositions, with a couple by Paul Bley and one by Ornette Coleman. The music is highly organised, with a strongly projected emotional message in a variety of textures and hues. Above all the result is extremely musical as it journeys through the ways of contemporary freedom. Swallow and La Roca are completely with Bley through the whole proceedings, making wonderful trio music. Steve Swallow adds a delightful raga-like touch to Carla Bley’s Vashkar, so that the piece seems to sway rather than swing. King Korn, also by Carla Bley, sounds like a very funny parody of a TV jingle. Sleeve note writer Paul Haines hits the nail firmly on the head when he says:
“Bley rids the studio of musical impediments by playing everything all over again for the first time.
This tempers well with Paul Bley’s own words (Down Beat, March 12th, 1964):
“I'm against freedom in the wide sense, if freedom means free improvisation rather than free jazz, that’s where I draw the line. Sure, take a theme if you need one, and usually you do, and play on it—it can be at a certain tempo and maintain that tempo, it can have retards, it can leave the tempo—preferably a piece with a strong character that can be elaborated on. It may even be a shape of melody that can be elaborated on—or even the exact opposite. You can approach a piece as an antipiece, for example. But whatever you use, there has to be a groove to get into. That’s the hard part. Once you're into it, you don’t have to keep deciding whether or not the next phrase is going to be good or not.”
In October 1964 a fairly successful avant-garde jazz festival at the Cellar Cafe, in New York, sparked the first organised rumblings of the Jazz Composer’s Guild. The charter members were culled from the participants in what became known as the ‘October Revolution’, and included Jon Winter, Burton Greene, Bill Dixon, Le Sun Ra, Paul and Carla Bley, Roswell Rudd, Mike Mantler,
Cecil Taylor, John Tchicai and Archie Shepp. The Jazz Composer's Guild approached an attorney, Bernard Stollman, asking if he would extend legal advice to the Guild, but for a variety of reasons a certain amount of antipathy grew up between the two parties. Stollman, who was something of a friend of the avant-garde, commenced operations with his own recording company. Whatever the
pros and cons, it was good to see and hear avant-garde recordings being issued by Stollman’s new ESP label.
Paul Bley’s first album for ESP and Stollman was recorded in October 1964, by a quintet of himself, Marshall Allen (alto), Dewey Johnson (trumpet), bassist Eddie Gomez and Milford Graves on drums. This was Bley’s first recording under his own aegis wk: used horns and is therefore of particular interest, especially since all the themes were by Carla Bley. In fact the album abounds more in enthusiasm than talent and although it is possible to appreciate the way in which Bley strives for a free metrical base, the hornmen pace things rather badly and produce a series of hysterical toccatas, wild and perhaps exciting, but not particularly musical. Paul Bley himself improvises with all the organisation and aplomb that one comes to expect, and very excitingly, but he is crowded out by the sheer decibels of the rest of the band. Milford Graves was never the most sensitive of drummers and here he roars and chugs with magnificent glee and momentum. Marshall Allen is normally the main altoist with Le Sun Ra’s Arkestra, perhaps a better setting for him, and one in which his particular talents are more appropriate. Dewey Johnson is fleet without being emphatic and his rather small trumpet tone is something of a hindrance, although he projects with success on the plaintive And Now The Queen. Taken as a whole this album demonstrates future potential rather than actual present results and is only partially of interest.
In May 1965 Paul Bley recorded a second album for Stollman’s ESP label, this time with a trio including Steve Swallow on bass and drummer Barry Altschul. Bley himself has registered some dissatisfaction with the quintet recording discussed above, and it seems very likely that this trio session was in some measure a reaction to the hysteria generated by the quintet. Certainly the music produced by the trio on this occasion was very peaceful by comparison, with a kind of delicate charm pervading. All in all, the album is a moving dissertation on some startlingly beautiful thematic material, all of which was provided by Carla Bley. One of the most delightful tracks is Ida Lupino, with a gentle Latin tinge and a charming ballad melody. On the faster numbers Bley’s predilection for a rather restricted region of the piano is much in evidence. This he turns to tood effect with his somewhat conversational manner, achieving by his touch much more of a speech inflected sound than one would have thought possible.
In October 1965 Paul Bley travelled to Europe with the Jazz Composer's Guild Orchestra, making radio and television appearances in Germany. He left to play a trio engagement during November at the Jazzhus Montmartre in Copenhagen, accompanied by bassist Kent Carter and drummer Barry Altschul. Whilst I did not find the opportunity to listen to the trio in person, I did hear a Danish recording broadcast over the Swedish radio. No titles or composer credits were given but the music itself was excellent. From the broadcast it was possible, I think, to gain some idea of what Bley was trying to achieve with his first ESP recording, although here the emotive range was greatly wider, the pieces ranging from tender ballads to sounds of heated excitement. The thematic material was strong throughout the programme, which included such items as Around Again and Ida Lupino, and the organisation within a fairly free framework was at all times powerful, with Bley very much in control, well supported by-Carter. Barry Altschul achieved a large measure of rhythmic complexity at times, with a transparency that did not submerge the group under a barrage, and instead engendered a feeling of spaciousness. The rhythmic adventurousness shown here was significantly greater than was evidenced in the trio recording for ESP, probably because the group had by now worked together for some time and had gained in confidence.
A recording was made for Debut during the period of the Copenhagen engagement, again with the trio featuring Kent Carter and Barry Altschul. The thematic material was somewhat different from that used on the broadcast and included three pieces by Annette Peacock, wife of bassist Gary Peacock. One composition was provided by Carla, and one by Paul Bley. The remaining title, Pablo, was more or less of a free improvisation, credited to Paul Bley. I feel that the Debut album is less gripping than the radio broadcast, largely because the compositions are less entrancing. The trio in fact functions very well, swaying, swinging and floating in the strange manner we have come to expect. The effect is curious, with the piano as a kind of pivot centre for the group, providing a fixed pitch reference in music of indeterminate pitch. By this 1 mean that the music sways, raga-like, around the piano, at times almost washing completely over it. Bley seems aware of this anomaly and tries to overcome it by at times producing sounds of indeterminate pitch from within the piano, muting and damping the strings as he plucks them. This is a technique he had not used extensively to my knowledge since leaving the Jimmy Giuflre trio. The variety and use of these sounds is very pleasing and lends a new dimension to the perhaps rather sombre sound of the group. On the whole I find the Debut album, whilst perhaps not completely successful, certainly an extraordinarily interesting recording and one which could point the way ahead for the avant-garde jazz pianist looking for a viable alternative to the approaches of Cecil Taylor, Keith Jarrett et al.
During 1966 the Paul Bley trio travelled to Buenos Aires for the Argentine jazz festival, returning to the U.S.A. where they featured in several concerts, notably at Hunter College and Astor Place Playhouse in New York City. Towards the end of the year, Bley is returning once more to Europe with an engagement scheduled in London, amongst other venues. It will be interesting to see if his music continues to develop and progress in the remarkable way it has so far done.
Ref : Jazz Monthly Christmas 1966
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