jazz-musicians

"Very often the things that we consider to be new are not new. They're just new combinations or reanimations and reimaginations of things that have already been done, put together in a different way."

"Even while I was studying at [Manhattan School of Music], I was learning about melody and rhythm, and theory, and harmony, and all the great composers like Scriabin, Khatchaturian, Shostakovich, and Prokofiev...Bach and Beethoven, Chopin, Brahms, Schoenberg, Alan Berg...Boulez, Stockhausen...We would listen, for example, to Ravel's Piano Concerto in G, or a Bach Cantata or the Prelude and Fugue, and so on. And then the teacher, Ludmila Ulehla, picked the essential 20 composers in music history, from...Mozart...and so on, up through...Debussy, Scriabin...and Stockhousen...Eventually, my goal became to put all that I had absorbed from these studies into jazz, into, say, "Stella By Starlight," to integrate the harmony, the melodic ideas, and so on. I continued doing that for about twenty years afterwards. I spent hours and hours at the piano, sleeping as little [as] three hours a night. But I loved it, so it wasn't arduous work."

"You must remember that it was a different time...It was before everyone was looking into their smartphones. There were computers but it wasn't such a dominant vibe in the air. People talked to each other, met in bars, and went out to hear music...In Greenwich Village...there were at least six clubs within a few walking minutes...Around that time there were at least 10 functioning clubs just in Manhattan, not even counting Brooklyn, that featured music seven nights a week...People would go out to the the clubs, not just musicians. There was a real sense of community...We were very lucky to live in this time."

"Being curious is an absolute rule of life. If you don’t have that, I don’t know what you're doing in this music."

"I was stuck somewhere between originality and no gigs. My own colleagues called me the conceptualist, the maverick with the only too occasional stadium concert."

"One of my fondest childhood recollections is spinning 7” vinyl records on my plastic turntable, an RCA 45-EY. Becoming a composer-musician and recording artist was a natural recourse and fruition."

"I was just a kid inventing my own guitar chords because I did not have a teacher. Whatever sounded good to me was effectively correct. There were no rules."

"As one who wrote interesting stories — whimsical stories, perhaps — and who drew whimsical maps and landscapes across a long canvas. Is this real enough? I also wish to be remembered as a Filipino, most of all."

"Red Garland is one of the those musicians you probably know a lot more about than you think you do, but it's still not enough. He made his biggest splash as a sideman, but today we induct a record under his own name into the NPR Basic Jazz Record Library. A Garland of Red is some of the finest piano trio jazz you can find."

"With his instantly recognizable biting and clear tone, tenor player Sonny Rollins, who turns 83 in September, is regarded by some as the greatest living saxophonist today. Inspired by Lester Young and Coleman Hawkins, Rollins had an ability to rarely repeat himself when improvising, even during lengthy solos. He was just in his mid-twenties when Saxophone Colossus was released, and the title of the disc was more than fitting. Rollins was already a titan of the tenor evidenced by cuts like "St. Thomas," one of his most well known compositions."

"Wayne Shorter, who turns eighty this month, and Sonny Rollins are two of the finest saxophonists living today."

"A famous jazz musician walks into a studio while the engineers are listening back to a recent recording. The musician is awe struck by the drumming and asks, "Who's playing drums?!" The engineer responds, "It's Elvin Jones," to which the musician then asks, "Then who's playing the cymbals?" This corny jazz parable sums it up. Elvin's drumming is an avalanche of sound that is at times incomprehensible, yet mind-blowingly musical. Power and grace. Listen to John Coltrane's "Sunship" and have your face melted."

"While Lester Young might have had a warm tone, Stan Getz's was even more relaxed and wispy, especially on the jazz-bossa nova albums he did with Brazilian pianist Antonio Carlos Jobim and singer and guitarist Joao Gilberto, including the 1963 album Getz/Gilberto, which included "The Girl From Ipanema." Sure, Getz's tone was perfectly suited for bossa nova, but the tenor player could also work his around bop tunes. His playing is especially gorgeous and fluid on Focus, which included string arrangements by arranger Eddie Sauter."

"Depending on his mood, Fats Waller could be ‘the cheerful little earful’ or ‘the harmful little armful’. Usually, he was both, winning a huge following in the 1930s and ’40s with his high-spirited, satirical takes on run-of-the-mill popular songs. He transformed his material with a sense of humour, ebullient vocal style and the infectious swing enshrined in the name of his jumping sextet: Fats Waller and His Rhythm. But jazz fans and musicians prized Waller's glittering piano style. He was a product of the demanding school of New York stride players, whose formidable technique was matched by competitive zest. They challenged each other wherever there was a piano and Waller often prevailed with his sparkling invention and the dexterity, power and finesse you might expect from a sometime pupil of Leopold Godowsky. Waller’s taste for classical music was as natural to him as his genius for swing."

"Dave Brubeck was incredibly well known for most of his career. His early success with college audiences – the Brubeck Quartet virtually invented the campus circuit – catapulted him on to the cover of Time magazine in 1954. In 1960 his star status increased with the album Time Out. Brubeck’s mixture of asymmetrical rhythms and catchy tunes won international renown, though the disc’s biggest hit, the sinuous ‘Take Five’, was written by the quartet’s alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, with some structural advice from his boss. But, as all too often in jazz, popular celebrity inspired critical condescension. He was slated for his ‘academic’ approach – he had studied with Darius Milhaud, classical composer and member of the French collective Les Six – his use of such classical devices as counterpoint and polytonality, his sometimes thunderous keyboard attack and disinclination to swing in a conventional manner. Critics damned his lyricism with faint praise and dismissed him from the jazz tradition. However, over the years, as the idea of a monolithic tradition has become suspect, Brubeck has come to be seen as a remarkable, original talent. Far from being some kind of uptight academic, he had trouble reading music and was one of the most purely intuitive pianists jazz has produced. His style was founded completely on a commitment to musical expression, fuelled by a belief that, as he once put it, ‘jazz should have the right to take big chances’ – even going beyond what has been considered jazz."

"Some folks thought Rahsaan Roland Kirk's playing multiple horns at once was a gimmick. Granted, the guy looked like a madman with all sorts of woodwinds strapped around him, with maybe a tenor sax or manzello and stritch (both obscure saxophones) in his mouth at the same time, but Kirk was a hell of an improviser, often harmonizing with himself. There's a live recording of Kirk playing "Sentimental Journey" on one horn and Dvorak's "New World Symphony" on the other, and Kirk said it's splitting the mind into two parts. "It's like making one part of your mind say, 'Ob-la-di' and make the other part of your mind say 'What does it mean'?" Not only was Kirk a damn fine saxophonist but his flute playing, while scatting, heavily influenced Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull."

"As a matter of right, Jelly Roll Morton would have assumed that any jazz starter collection would begin with him. After all, he once proudly proclaimed, ‘I myself invented jazz in the year of 1902’. Grandiosity was his lifelong style: pianist, composer, leader; pool-shark, pimp and hustler – there was something mythic about Jelly, right down – or up – to the glittering diamond in one of his front teeth. People resented his arrogance, but as one of his musicians put it, ‘Sure he bragged, but he could back up everything he said.’ And while he may not have invented jazz, he was arguably the first great jazz composer, the man who proved it was possible to realise both a compelling structure and spontaneous excitement. The key to his achievement was a many-sided and acute musical imagination, steeped in the cultural melting pot of New Orleans. Morton absorbed all the riches the Crescent City had to offer – blues, ragtime, marches, grand opera, quadrilles and the ‘Spanish tinge’ he maintained was essential to jazz. His piano style displays all these influences, at once refined and raffish, encompassing elegant turns and trills, barrelhouse chords and a strain of melancholy lyricism. The same qualities suffuse his orchestral works. Morton first formed the band he called Red Hot Peppers in Chicago in 1926, and their recordings will come as a revelation to anyone who thinks of early jazz as raucous and one-dimensional. Morton’s men were all masters of the vibrant New Orleans style, and gave his compositions just the right interpretative and improvisatory gusto."

"There was something almost mythic about Art Tatum from the beginning. Pianists hearing his first solo recordings in 1933 assumed there had to be more than one person playing: such terrifying virtuosity could not come from a single pair of hands. And yet the amiable prodigy from Ohio – virtually blind from birth – soon became a familiar if still incredible presence on New York’s scene and beyond. Though his style was based on the high-powered facility of such stride masters as Fats Waller, Tatum took their keyboard feats to another level, not just in digital dexterity but in a harmonic and rhythmic command which produced spontaneous transformations of standard tunes. Dazzling sequences of new chords and keys defied the barlines before returning, with nonchalant precision, to the original structure. Tatum’s mastery was universally acknowledged. When he entered a club where Fats Waller was playing Waller announced, ‘I play piano, but God is in the house tonight.’ And his reputation extended beyond jazz: experiencing Tatum in a 52nd Street club, Vladimir Horowitz exclaimed, ‘I don’t believe my eyes and ears.’ Tatum was essentially a jazz musician, relishing musical immediacy. He loved to hang out in after-hours clubs, seeming to take delight in coaxing wonders out of clapped-out pianos, transcending their stuck keys and dodgy tuning till they glittered like concert grands."

"At age 17, he had a radical conception of the drums that rocked the world then and sounds as fresh today. You can tell he’s hearing the music in slow motion. He could see the forest, so to speak."

"You listen and think, "That guy sure plays some crashing and unpredictable things behind Miles," but then you listen closely and every note of his ride cymbal is somehow the exact same volume, like a typewriter."

"Ron Carter has played on over 2,500 albums and secured a spot in jazz history as one of the world's finest bassists. Doing much more than merely helping anchor the rhythm, Carter is a melodic master. In his five-decade-long career, he's played with countless jazz legends, including a five-year stint in Miles Davis's quintet, an outfit that also included Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter and Tony Williams. While his playing on most of the recordings he did with Davis are stellar, some of his albums as a leader, like Uptown Conversation, are excellent, as are his duo albums with guitarist Jim Hall, platters like Live at the Village West and Alone Together."

"John Coltrane once said, "Paul Chambers was one of the greatest bass players in jazz. His playing is beyond what I could say about it." Chambers played a vital role in both the Prestige recordings of Coltrane, as well as a part of Miles Davis's first great quintet, appearing on the 1959 landmark album, Kind of Blue. Chambers, who died at the age of 33, also released some fine recordings as a leader, namely Whims of Chambers and Bass on Top."

"What makes jazz ‘jazz’ today? Improvisation, blues and swing, passionate individuality – the music may hark back to its classic qualities, but today’s scene has splintered into a plethora of postmodern fragments, from which every player has to construct a distinctive voice. No one has met this challenge with more imagination than trumpeter Dave Douglas. In fact, he has mixed feelings about what he calls ‘this beast called jazz’: though he’s always wanted to play it, he wants to incorporate all the other aspects of music and life that compel him, too. In 2003 he celebrated his 40th birthday with a concert given by ten different groups he has led, including the Tiny Bell trio, with guitar and drums (inspired by Balkan music); Charms of the Night Sky (a chamber group with accordion); a sextet devoted to works by neglected jazz masters; and a quintet with cello and violin whose repertoire includes Douglas originals, Webern and Stravinsky. What unites all these ensembles is Douglas’s virtuoso ability, and his protean skills as a composer."

"Stanley Clarke has seemingly done it all and then some during his exceptional career as a bassist. Perhaps most noted for his jazz playing, Clarke also shined on the rock side, notably in the late 1970s with Ronnie Wood and Keith Richards in the New Barbarians. Clarke, known for playing his instrument more like an upright bass, has the almost uncanny ability to give his guitar an almost percussive sound."

"An integral part of Ornette Coleman's early groups, Charlie Haden played an important role in the development of free jazz, while also being an extremely competent and intuitive player. While his playing and writing with the large ensemble Liberation Music Orchestra, as well as his output with Keith Jarrett's group is stellar, his duo recordings are great, as well, namely Beyond the Missouri Sky with guitarist Pat Metheny and Nightfall with pianist John Taylor."

"Just 25 when he died in a car accident in 1961, Scott LaFaro showed an early proficiency on the bass after taking it up at the age of 18, just before starting at Ithaca College. A weeks into his sophomore year, LaFaro hit the road with Buddy Morrow, but left the band in Los Angeles, and then went on to play with Chet Baker, Stan Kenton, Cal Tjader and Ornette Coleman. LaFaro is probably best known for his work with the Bill Evans Trio over the last few years of the bassist's life. His playing on Evans's Sunday at the Village Vanguard and Waltz for Debby is just remarkable."

"While Ray Brown could swing heavy with bebop pioneers like Dizzy Gillespie, he's probably best known for part in pianist Oscar Peterson's trio from 1951-1966. Brown's buoyant playing seemed to match Peterson's relaxed attack on the piano. The bassist, who was briefly married to Ella Fitzgerald, backed up the singer, as well as countless other jazz luminaries until he passed away at the age of 75 in 2002. Brown released dozens of discs under his own name from the mid '40s to the early 2000s."

"At only the age of 15, Louie Bellson asked a question that would change jazz music forever: What if one bass drum just isn't enough? After pioneering the technique of playing two bass drums at the same time, Bellson became ingrained with the most influential big bands of the '40s, including those around Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Harry James, and Duke Ellington. Consistently blending genres in his work, Bellson also wrote a Broadway musical, Portofino."

"There are many emulators, but there is only one Tommy Emmanuel. Has he ever dropped a note? Or sounded anything less like God decided to inhabit an Australian dad and pick up the guitar? Lightning speed, skills for miles and miles, and fingers blessed with the tone of the gods, Tommy Emmanuel has it all. He could make wire stretched across a plank of wood sound good. What he does with a guitar tuned to standard, with nothing but a pick and his imagination, is a wonder to behold. Emmanuel is both showman and showstopper."

"[George Van Eps] was such an accomplished musician, he wanted to be able to accompany himself on bass as he played the guitar. Toward this end, he designed a seven-string guitar in the late 1930s. The seventh string allowed him to get bass tones lower than the open E-string on the conventional six-string guitar, and thus provide himself with a walking bassline as he played. It also opened up all kinds of opportunities for new chord voicings on guitar."

"It was famously observed that, though Duke Ellington played piano, his real instrument was his orchestra. Similarly, while Eddie Condon was a useful rhythm guitarist, he was a virtuoso of the spirit of Chicago jazz. Organiser, promoter, impresario, publican and publicist, he symbolised its carefree pleasures until his death in 1973. [...] If Chicago jazz epitomised the devil-may-care mood of the 1920s, it also looked forward to the ’30s: Chicago stars such as Benny Goodman and Gene Krupa spearheaded the age of the big bands. But Condon kept faith with his original passion, espousing both small-group spontaneity and the fun-loving, hard-drinking ethos that went with it. Leading groups in clubs, arranging record dates and concerts, he became a one-man mission for Chicago jazz and was rewarded in the ’40s when public interest revived in Dixieland. Condon was the music’s embodiment. A dapper figure with slicked-back hair, he was a celebrated wit, typically addressing a sparse audience as ‘Lady and gentleman’. The music itself was first class, as you can hear in Eddie Condon: Windy City Jazz.[...] In later years, the Condon style was often barbarised by amateurs, giving Dixieland a bad name. But he would be pleased with a record that so appealingly distils the best of his life’s work."

"For all his renown as the creator of modern-jazz guitar, Charlie Christian was a country boy. Steeped in the rich musical traditions of the American Southwest, he began to play almost as soon as he could walk, guiding his blind, guitarist father around Oklahoma City and entertaining with the family band. In his early teens, an encounter with tenor saxophonist Lester Young inspired him to cultivate single-note lines in the manner of a horn, rather than the guitar’s customary strumming. A crucial technological boost to Christian’s pioneering style was the development of amplification in the 1930s. By 1937, he was using an electric guitar and word of his extraordinary ability began to spread far beyond the local scene, leading to an invitation to audition for the King of Swing, Benny Goodman, in 1939. Despite an unfortunate first impression – Charlie appeared in a bright green suit with a purple shirt, yellow shoes and a ten-gallon hat – the new Benny Goodman Sextet came into being there and then. Jazz guitar would never be the same again."

"Grant was the master of phrasing."

"Every solo he plays, however brief, says something, with a captivating mixture of supple technique, bluesy authority and endless invention. You feel that his effortless flow of chromatic sophistication, twangy asides and visceral swing was constantly on tap."

"Angel, devil or both, Chet Baker is the stuff of jazz legend. By his mid-20s, the Oklahoma country boy was famous, leaping to stardom in 1953 with saxophonist Gerry Mulligan’s trend-setting West Coast quartet and winning polls on trumpet. His reputation was no mere publicity bubble. After playing with Baker in his pre-Mulligan days, bebop pioneer Charlie Parker told his trumpet protégé Miles Davis, ‘There’s a little white cat out on the coast who’s going to eat you up.’"

"When Freddie Hubbard died at the end of 2008, it was sobering to think that the younger generation of jazz fans might not be sure who he was. Aged 70, the trumpeter had been largely inactive for almost two decades, his career plagued by lip trouble and a lack of direction. It was a far cry from his 1960s status as a new trumpet king, synonymous with cutting-edge excitement, a key player in most classic sessions of those heady days."

"Not long after he arrived in New York in 1930, the teenage Roy Eldridge was dubbed ‘Little Jazz’, acknowledging both his compact build and musical intensity. From the start, the trumpeter was keen to make his mark, seeking out ‘every jam session going’, and taking on all comers in battles of speed, range and daring. Instead of the broad, heraldic character usually associated with the trumpet, the young Eldridge cultivated a super-charged fluency, imitating saxophonists like Coleman Hawkins. Though his elders were impressed, they had reservations regarding his musical substance, which Eldridge himself came to share. In his words, ‘I was very fast, but I wasn’t telling no kind of story.’ With that realisation, his talent began to flower. His facility for high-voltage, bravura excitement was deepened and enhanced by an instinct for musical structure, so that an Eldridge solo became even more thrilling."

"In 1957, a critic referred to Ruby Braff as ‘the 30-year-old traditional trumpet player’. The description implies the slightly barbed subtext that dogged Braff in his early days. What business did a young jazz musician have cultivating an old-fashioned style when his contemporaries were all going in the heady new directions of bebop? But Braff’s status was made even more complicated because he also rejected the approved reaction against bebop, the deliberate archaism of ‘trad jazz’. To Ruby, the real jazz tradition was the kind of rich, melodic invention effortlessly embodied by the star soloists of the swing generation, leading back to Louis Armstrong."

"Art Farmer’s approach to jazz seemed simplicity itself. ‘What I try to do with a song,’ the trumpeter once said, ‘is to get as much enjoyment out of playing it as I can.’ Yet his style expressed a quiet profundity and originality that defied the obvious. Although, born in 1928, he was a member of the bebop generation, he eschewed obvious pyrotechnics. A Farmer solo didn’t merely ‘run the changes’, ripping through the chords, but created an absorbing, probing shape, at once subtle and lyrical. In terms of facility, he could do anything he wanted, and his technical command and thoughtful musicianship ensured first-call status in the booming jazz scene of the 1950s. After apprenticeship with Lionel Hampton and other big bands, Farmer starred with two of the most prominent small groups of the time – Horace Silver’s hard-driving quintet, and the cool quartet of Gerry Mulligan. At the same time, he was leading his own groups in a series of widely praised albums. One of the best is the eponymous Art, with a quartet including the trumpeter’s kindred spirit, pianist Tommy Flanagan. Effortlessly compelling, it’s a classic example of Farmer’s special gift for reinventing standard tunes. ‘Younger than Springtime’ becomes a kind of idyll, his tone both round and clear. ‘Who Cares’ shows his fiery side, full of unexpected angles, and ‘I’m a Fool to Want You’ is a reflective ballad, but not morose."

"Grant Green's unique mixture of bebop, blues and fun distinguished him as one of the quintessential soul jazz/hard bop guitarists from the get-go."

"Green's current reputation [is being] one of the "most sampled guitarists.""

"When Charlie Christian got on the bandstand with Benny Goodman in 1939, he single-handedly propelled the electric guitar into the mainstream. Though he wasn’t the first guitarist to plug in and play electrified, Christian’s performances as a soloist on Goodman tracks like “Flying Home” and “Honeysuckle Rose” document the first instances that the electric guitar was used effectively as a lead instrument in a Big Band setting. The increased volume and sustain that amplification offered put the guitar on a level playing field with customary soloing instruments like the trumpet and saxophone, and Christian’s participation in early bebop jam sessions alongside such luminaries as Thelonius Monk and Dizzy Gillespie also makes him one of the founding fathers of the genre. Sadly, Christian died from tuberculosis at 26. HIs body of work inspired a generation of jazz guitar giants, including Barney Kessel, Herb Ellis, Wes Montgomery, Tal Farlow and Jim Hall."

"Les Paul's influence on electric guitar (and on recorded music in general) is inestimable. Not only was he a groundbreaking player, but he was also a visionary. [...] Today, "Lover" might sound like little more than a charming novelty, but when Paul was recording it, he was working his way toward studio recording techniques that are still in use."

"With his phenomenal ear, Wes quickly grew beyond his influences and developed a style all his own. His knack for melody, groundbreaking use of octaves in a soloing context and intricate chord solos—as demonstrated in his devastating interpretations of standards like “Round Midnight” and “Days of Wine and Roses”—broadened the range of guitar, pushing the instrument into unchartered territory."

"Today, the artistry of George Barnes isn't well-known outside of a small circle of jazz guitarists and aficionados. But his influence runs through the history of electric jazz guitar. Some claim he was the first jazz artist to record with an electric guitar. Barnes was also one of the first guitarists to use the instrument as the only melody instrument in a small group format, accompanied by a rhythm section of bass, drums and rhythm guitar."

"We all know the Django story, but the actual recorded evidence is something else altogether. The hot jazz genius was a formidable speedster, yes, but his playing was also full of life and love, a romanticism that belongs to another century. Django is revered as much for his feel, his tone, and his heart as he is his technical prowess. A master of his art whose influence is felt far and wide, Django is proof that talent will always find a way to turn a setback into an advantage."

"Dizzy Gillespie’s old friend, bassist Milt Hinton, used to say, ‘Chords are our love, but rhythm is our business,’ and that might have been Diz’s lifelong motto as well. Whether the group was large or small, the groove headlong swing or sizzling Afro-Cuban, a Gillespie band lifted you out of your seat with its sheer musical energy. And the crest of that wave was the leader’s fiery trumpet, which had revolutionised jazz brass in the ’40s. The young Gillespie could play higher and faster for longer than anybody before him, and his passionate, coruscating solos define the brave new world of bebop. Just as radical were his harmonies and rhythms – fusillades of notes tumbling over bar-lines, defying conventional chord structures. And this was not mere ‘subversion’, but a well-conceived creative strategy. Despite his madcap reputation, Dizzy Gillespie was one of the prime theoreticians of bop and a tireless teacher, demonstrating, encouraging, inspiring."

"I have observed that, in jazz, all roads lead back to Louis Armstrong. But Louis’s road began with the man he honoured as his inspiration, idol and mentor, Joe ‘King’ Oliver. During World War I, Oliver was the cornet king of New Orleans, and in 1919 he went north to Chicago, where he won similar renown with his Creole Jazz Band, dazzling dancers, listeners and musicians with the sound of Crescent City jazz. Oliver had been a father figure to young Armstrong, and in 1922 he invited his protégé to join his group in Chicago. Armstrong’s brilliance was already evident, and his arrival transformed the Oliver band from a classic ensemble to a legend. It’s our supreme good fortune that the next year the group put much of its repertoire on disc – 37 sides which constitute the first unequivocal demonstration of the expresssive potency of jazz, in all its variety and fire. While it’s easy to marvel at the immensity of Armstrong’s burgeoning talent, the overwhelming effect of these records is the power of the Creole Jazz Band as a whole. With King Oliver firmly at the helm, the group achieves a level of focused energy and invention that is simply irresistible. In accord with New Orleans practice, theirs is largely an ensemble music – solos tend to be short, adding colour to the overall texture. But the definition of the individual voices is a constant delight, as is the unflagging, pulsating swing."

"While Stanley Clarke is both a master of the double bass and electric bass, and a dynamic visionary on both instruments, he's also an accomplished composer, as evidenced by many of his solo discs, the groove-heave 1976 release, School Days, as well as his film scores. Clarke is clearly a master of jazz-rock fusion, especially during his time with Return to Forever, but he can lay down a funk groove like no other, and he swings like a madman."

"Christian wasn't the first jazz guitarist to use amplification (Eddie Durham, for one, beat him to it), but he brought the electric guitar into focus with his immense talent. Along with making the guitar a viable instrument in Goodman's style of swing, Christian was also a forerunner in the establishment of the musical language of bebop."