You don't really have to know too much about jazz to know you are listening to something incredible. Believe me: I don't know that much about jazz. But I do know that these are three of the greatest musicians to have performed the form at all, let alone together at the same time.
Mingus doesn't hold back. Roach never lags. Mingus is abrasive, but Roach counters gently. And Ellington is as smooth as ever, keeping up with the younger guys.
'Le Fleurs Africaines' is a mellow departure but Charlie pairs Duke's elegance with ominous pulls from the double bass, while Max keeps track of the background. 'Very Special' picks it back up again and 'Warm Valley' showcases a melancholic Duke.
This session was recorded September 17, 1962 at Sound Makers Studio in New York City. I bought this album February 6th, 2016 at the Jazz Record Mart in downtown Chicago a week before the store closed. These dates might not matter. It was my only time at the Jazz Record Mart. I should have gone more. Nothing lasts forever.
My copy of the record is a 2015 reissue: may we do what we can to preserve this music, not just this album, not just these three men, but for every artist, if you believe in the art, acquire something physical of it. That's why I'm starting to write about my records more. There needs to be record of these records. I forget about the records I have sometimes.
'Switch Blade' ends side one. Mingus ends it, his bass sounds like a guillotine swaying over a single note, bending it this way and that. I take a sip of tea and get up the flip the record. And then
BAM they all start in together on side two. I'm reading about critical reception. Mingus and Roach are praised for their speed and for pushing old-man Ellington into new territory. The adjectives: astonishing, sensational, angular, modernist, grandiose. And then there's the back of my album which quotes George Wein from the original liner notes: "To hear this album is to believe fully in the validity and lasting qualities of jazz." Nothing lasts forever. But this album might?
'Solitude.' An Ellington standard. He gives the other two guys five. Slows things down again. The record pops and it makes it sound like I've played this track more than I actually have. It pops for me, it says "PSST...solitude ain't so bad...you can get some real writing done then." But then...but then Mingus and Roach join again. Even in solitude, you're never truly alone.
Which isn't to say you always need to keep the company you're with. Read more here about the growing tension between Mingus and Roach during the recording (but you wouldn't know it from the photo on the back album cover of a smiling Mingus with a milk box in his hand). That tension, undoubtedly, is what makes this album so great, so astonishing, sensational, angular, modernist, grandiose.
The 'Backward Country Boy Blues' fade away and the record ends. Nothing lasts forever.
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