Review: Herbie Hancock - Secrets

Herbie Hancock had already long established his jazz credentials, primarily with his own now classic releases on Blue Note, and also with his wide array of sideman work; with among many others, Miles Davis. With 1973’s ‘Head Hunters’ though, he successfully crossed over into funk territory, with even more popular and commercial rewards; but still maintaining a strong jazz personality, including through his next subsequent releases.

With ‘Secrets’ however, his fourth in the jazz-funk vein, an alarming realisation of creative diminishing-returns comes to the fore. The previously strong mix of two genres melded together had started to feel a little too smooth-sounding with his third effort ‘Man Child’, which added guitars to the mix, as well as increasing the band roster quite heavily. ‘Secrets’, continuing this move, gives even more greater playing time to the guitars, and also sounds more funk-pop than anything funk-jazz.

For one, the emphasis here is on the mellower, softer side of the musical palette, with very little approaching up-tempo, and that which does is still given a distinctly relaxed edge. There’s no high-energy here, just rolling head-nodding grooves - many of which tend to go on far too long. ‘Doin’ It’ is a great example of this; opening with a slight disco inflection and sounding like a killer dancefloor hit - albeit for just two minutes. Repeating itself over six minutes, nothing much changes or happens, and it flatly wears its welcome out. ‘People Music’ sounds better, but basically feels like an attempt to re-do ‘Butterfly’, but in a different groove.

And much in the way the Hancock classic ‘Watermelon Man’ was re-worked successfully as an electric and funkier number for ‘Head Hunters’, here he takes another of his previous hits, ‘Canteloupe Island’ (arguably his most well-known number), and attempts to do something similar. But it really does not work at all. Almost unrecognisable, an electric guitar leads a yawning saunter, with the familiar melody coming in buried under an array of keyboard and synthesizer effects. It’s a largely lazy-sounding failure that surely can’t have anyone preferring it to the original.

The second half of the album is better however, with some nice seguing and an overall build to something close to climactic. The whole album though convinces that perhaps the energy, the enthusiasm and the ideas have all gone, and Hancock doesn’t know where to go from here. The drumming, previously a high-voltage and highly enjoyable part of the Hancock funk sound, is here just basic and simple, supplying little more than an at times metronomic beat for everyone else to follow. Another notable difference is Melvin Ragin AKA the self-dubbed ‘Wah Wah Watson’ on guitar and vocals. Whilst his guitar is flamboyantly good and well-suited, he also assists heavily on the composition and production duties, and you sense that it’s these contributions that have moved the album to its more ‘flat-sounding’ territory.

Yet there is still a good deal to enjoy and appreciate; Bernie Maupin emerges again as the hero, with his variety of saxophones and flutes, leading most of the solos along with Hancock’s numerous electric keyboards (no acoustic pianos here at all). Paul Jackson’s basslines too are as ever solid anchors for the band.

If you loved ‘Head Hunters’ and ‘Thrust’, those same vibes and sounds aren’t here. But if you liked ‘Man Child’, then there’s probably maybe something here for you. The multiple rhythms and layers, infectious grooves and spaced-out keyboards that made his earlier fusion efforts so good are sadly absent, replaced with a variety of not-quite-funky guitar and mellow sounds, and a decidedly more Caribbean feel. Not a great deal of it is very memorable however, and much of the tracks drag on without developing or finding a direction. If it sounds like the man had lost his hunger for it, tellingly his next few releases would be with the new all-acoustic quintet, alongside his Miles Davis cohorts and the swaggering trumpet of Freddie Hubbar, V.S.O.P. Buy those instead.

**

Review: Freddie Hubbard - Polar AC

An unexceptional recording by trumpeter extraordinaire Freddie Hubbard, especially given his immediately previous high quality output, it’s one of the entry efforts to his career brown patch that would unfortunately last for pretty much most of the rest of the decade.

A strong band has little to do with the middling pieces chosen, but none-the-less Hubert Laws’ flute and George Benson’s guitar blend seamlessly and create a good interplay. The soloing from both men and Junior Cook’s saxophone too is impeccable, but sadly the rest of the band are pretty much uninvolved and struggle to rise above the material.

Some grand over-production, typical of this period in CTI’s history, too drags the album down, with the obvious exceptions of ironically the title track, and ‘Son Of Sky Dive’. These two numbers sound alive and beat with a pulse that is clearly lacking from the rest of the album, so much so in fact that you suspect that maybe these two were recorded or produced at a separate session.

Freddie still soars high on his trumpet, but he’s clearly either uninspired or low on ideas throughout. For every half-decent moment there’s an equally lost-at-sea solo that leaves him sounding confused and unfocused. But like the album as a whole there is little that is actively unlikeable, just not much in the way of anything eventful or memorable. After the sheer musical highpoints of his opening CTI salvo, including ‘Red Clay’ and ‘Straight Life’, this is very much the sound of Freddie Hubbard coasting.

**

Review: Freddie Hubbard - Red Clay

The dominant and possibly defining jazz label of the 1970’s, CTI had an occasionally almost schizophrenic output, producing for the most part straight and swinging jazz as well as some of the best fusion works of the time, but also releasing a number of recordings that helped create the roots of smooth-jazz and muzak. As such, for every Stanley Turrentine’s ‘Sugar’ with it grooving funky jazz, or Jim Hall’s undisputed masterpiece ‘Concierto’, there’s a Bob James record which borders dangerously close to disco (good pianist, excellent arranger, lacklustre artist).

Grabbing the then biggest names in jazz, Creed Taylor signed them up to enjoy quite often their most commercially successful periods. For Freddie Hubbard this was obviously true, whose albums here sold massively in comparison to his earlier Blue Note sessions. Prior to CTI, his best work was often playing under the leadership of others such as Herbie Hancock or Wayne Shorter, but under Taylor’s wing he produced a tight fist of work that rank as his highest achievements under his own name. The first of these in particular, ‘Red Clay’, surrounds him with the stellar company of Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Joe Henderson and Lenny White, and is immediately a winner.

The title track opens with a short section that wouldn’t sound out of place on one of Miles Davis’ spacier sections from his epochal ‘Bitches Brew’, with Hubbard and Henderson trading blows, before quickly settling into a soulful and easy rhythm set out by Carter and White. Hancock plays some nice and languid electric piano over the top and everyone gets to solo with impressive skill and finesse. ‘Delphia’ that follows is almost as good too; a slower moving piece, with some moody organ work from Hancock, the trumpet man gets to play one of his finest solos, flitting from introspective to upbeat and lightly boppy. Some tasteful flute is added too, for colour rather than any solo, and it raises the piece nicely.

The cleverly-titled ‘Suite Sioux’ is perhaps the least interesting piece here, sounding like a more traditional if likeable enough bop, albeit with a subtle hint of bossa and the use of some electrics. Henderons solo though is spot on. A very seventies fade-out-and-then-fade-back-in closes the track unmemorably. ‘The Intrepid Fox’ gets things back on track though with an urgent and feverish number that has everyone sounding lively and energized, with some great riffing and Hubbard going for a definite less-is-more approach that handsomely pays off.

As bonuses we get a bold and funky take on John Lennon’s ‘Cold Turkey’, which though fun is far from essential and just runs out of puff. Much better is an impressive version of the title track from a later live date. At almost nineteen minutes, it’s some six minutes longer than the studio take and it’s a corker; looser and freer-flowing, it’s a powerful show, with the bonus presence of guitarist George Benson adding greatly to the mix.

‘Red Clay’ is a fusion work that doesn’t really fall into the same bucket as most other ‘fusion’. One of the earliest and perhaps ‘less fused’ records of the era, it’s basically a then contemporary take on modal jazz, but with harder hitting drums, and electric piano and bass instead of acoustic. No attempts here to borrow head-down groove from funk bands, slashing guitar work from the rockers, or bizarre keyboard effects and sounds, and as such it gives Hubbard his own voice while at the same time preventing it from sounding as dated as other similar works of the era. Additionally and importantly, there’s certainly no obvious copying of any of Miles or his then current experimentations. In fact it sounds simply like good strong jazz and is consequently one of the trumpeters (and labels) defining albums.

*****

Review: Miles Davis - The Cellar Door Sessions

‘The Cellar Door Sessions’ is another in Columbias lavish Miles Davis box-set releases and, being a series of live dates from one venue as opposed to a related set of sessions or collaborations, one wonders why such a treatment. The truth is that these gigs here represent a true ‘missing link’ in Miles vast career – and how he moved from mainstream jazzer to godfather of fusion. Previously, an inadvertnt illusion was created by his ‘official’ releases that gave the strong impression that he had moved almost overnight from jazz standards to wild funk jams.

Although the slow gradual move into using electric instruments became more prominent through ‘In A Silent Way’ and ‘Bitches Brew’, it was with ‘Jack Johnson’ that everything suddenly leapt forward into the electric arena. This short-lived 1970 band shown here though was what truly marked the real shift from acoustic to electric in Miles groups. Choosing not to play any earlier Miles material, and made up of 19-year old Motown bass player Michael Henderson, drummer Jack DeJohnette, sax player Gary Bartz, jazz piano prodigy Keith Jarrett and Brazillian multi-percussionist Airto, in truth the band would not have wanted to play the earlier material.

Choosing to forsake the larger venues Miles was now playing, he instead took his newly formed band of young players to Washington D.C.’s crammed 100-people capacity club The Cellar Door. Here they would play a new, and controversial, hybrid of jazz and funk over four nights, with guitarist John McLaughlin dropping in to join the band for the final night. Portions of these performances would later be used to make up the album ‘Live-Evil’, where the cut-and-paste focus would almost be to showcase the then rising star John McLaughlin.

For years though, the band here went largely unheard, with most fans wondering what the band sounded like before the cut-ups and the heavy refocus on McLaughlin. Keith Jarrett also frequently went on record as saying that this band was truly hot, and that the final night addition of the guitarist in fact upset the rhythm, feel and tight interplay of the band. This box-set then sets the record straight, and with six complete sets and six hours of music, gives us something almost entirely previously unheard.

Each disc features a complete set consisting of between three and six tracks, with numbers frequently stretching to the fifteen minute mark (and some even to twenty). Featuring repeated versions of ‘Directions’. ‘Sanctuary’, ‘Inamorata’, ‘Honky Tonk’, ‘It’s About That Time’ and ‘What I Say’, as well as a single take on ‘Yesternow’, none of the titles here sound anything like the ones you’re familiar with.

Almost every piece here is built on a strong and repetitive bass figure that is for the most part the musics solid signpost over which everyone else lays down their groove or solo. Newboy Michael Henderson holds and drives the whole band forward, with a warm and rounded pulse, and his timing is impeccable. In fact it’s his work with Jack DeJohnette, and Airtos palette of percussion and vocals, that really transforms the sound of this band.

Gary Bartz on saxophone, who’d already worked with Art Blakey, Charles Mingus and Max Roach, was the first alto player Miles had regularly worked with since Cannonball Adderly more than ten years earlier. In truth, perhaps tenor sax here would have fared better, as Miles own trumpet playing is higher in register, and the lower sound of the tenor would have provided a much stronger contrast, but Bartz and his high-octane bluesy-sounding solos, especially his soprano work, are superb. Full of gutsy powerful playing, it’s a true shame, based on his on-display skills here, that Bartz work with Miles was so brief and little recorded.

One of the key presences, and distinctions, of this set though is the playing of Keith Jarret on the Fender Rhodes piano. Previously, Jarrett had only been heard either playing the second set of keys with Chick Corea, or largely (on ‘Live-Evil’) behind the guitar of John McLaughlin. Here though he is a solo and distinctive voice showing us compelling melodic solos and splashes of colour. It’s clear as well that Miles knew the strengths of Jarrett, as with most of the sets here he gives the piano player long improvised solo features as a bridge between the different tunes. In many ways these are like tiny previews of the acoustic concerts he would play just a few short years later. This set contains four such solos, each distinctive, with a fresh sound, and all set highlights. Tellingly, Miles never stopped praising Keith Jarret throughout the next twenty years.

And what of Miles Davis himself? On his recent albums, Miles’ critics had been quick to bemoan his use of effects on his trumpet, citing his declining chops as the reason. In fact, these criticisms were completely unfounded, as here his playing is superbly energetic and full-blooded. In this small Washington club, his playing sounds both aggressive and intimate. In fact his playing is so good, it is not overstating the point to say that this is a career high for him, in terms of range and daring. Sure, if you’re looking for the quiet and beautiful hushed playing of his 50’s days, you will be disappointed. But in every other way, this is Miles at his very best on the trumpet.

The first four discs without McLaughlin are superb. The group feels like a jazz group, but with the rhythm section (and Michael Henderson in particular) moving everything towards some gritty funk. Airto and DeJohnette are as clear as Mediterranean waters here with each of their contributions being easily seperable, and Jarrett is simply blinding. The Saturday night performances that capture McLaughlins addition to the band on discs five and six, though strong, just aren’t as good however.

As Keith Jarrett has always made clear, the band had in a very small space of time become a tight and adept unit and had acquired that valuable link between musicians that always exists in improvisational units. With McLaughlins addition, although strong, the insertion of another player into the band upsets the balance. Some superb solos are welcome, but his playing is much harder in sound than the rest of the band, and that wonderful clarity between the others tends to become overcrowded. As with the first four sets, the last two sets here are good, but how they compare to the previous four will depend on your personal preference, and ultimately your fondness for McLlaughlin.

Interestingly, Teo Macero is at the controls once again – recording the bands performances in the club. But on these occasions there is no post-session work cutting and splicing creating a collage of music, as he had done to create ‘Live-Evil’. This is 100% live music - and with excellent sound quality and clarity.

So, here it is – six complete performances recorded over four nights of powerful Miles jazz-funk, most of which you’ve never heard before. ‘Cellar’ is also easily the most sumptuously packaged of the Miles boxsets. A cherry-red case holding the CDs and extensive photos, detailed liner notes and thoughtful essays slides smoothly into a slipcase of mysterious yet highly strokeable material that feels something like a holy union between leather and suede. Sure, some will be furrowing their brow as to why they, or indeed the world, need another six-disc presentation set of Miles. Here though you have the chance to hear from front-row seats the experience of a 1970 Miles Davis club performance and that is something that no fan of Miles, heavy jazz or funk would ever want to pass up.

****

Review: Donald Byrd - Love Byrd

‘Love Byrd’, or to give it its full title, ‘The Point Where It All Went Downhill For Donald Byrd’. Leaving Blue Note after some twenty years and signing with the Elektra label signalled the end of a very fruitful and successful series of collaborations between trumpeter Byrd and the skilled production team of ‘The Mizell Brothers’. A critically knocked period, with Byrd being branded as a traitor, the trumpeter in actuality had fully and perfectly realized his own vision of being able to play music he enjoyed, whilst also becoming a more accessible and commercially successful artist. His records of course sold by the crate-load too.

The move to Elektra though was the beginning of the wheels coming off. Sounding for the most part horrifically like very dated disco, replete with cheesy handclaps, ‘Love Byrd’ is upsetting for fans of both Byrds hard-bop and funk work. Worse still is the very (very) slick nature of the album. There’s zero grit here and not much in the way of substance, with just a smoothed and sanded-down polish on top of the largely uninteresting arrangements. And who’s to blame for this? None other, rather oddly and surprisingly, than soul and funk main-man Isaac Hayes.

More bizarrely, it’s Hayes, and not Byrd, who dominates the session here. His Hot Buttered Soul quartet handles vocal duties, while he himself plays acoustic and electric piano, as well as vibraphone. Additionally he provides and arranges most of the material too. In fact, there’s not a lot that Byrd does here at all to justify his name being above the album title. For the most part, he simply plays along with some of Hayes arrangements and fills in here-and-there; his few solos are also depressingly short in both length and number. If asked on a blind listening who you thought this recording was by, you’d struggle and pick any number of disco or funk-lite bands of the era before getting even anywhere close.

The up-tempo pieces are uniformly and shockingly weak and flat, adding nothing, and are instantly forgettable. On the flipside, there are some good, if a little too thickly-polished, ballads here. Byrds own ‘I’ll Always Love You’ is one of the strongest moments, and Andrew Walker’s ‘Butterfly’ is simply beautiful and unarguably the albums best. Crucially it’s also one of the few tracks to have Byrd actually do something with his trumpet.

Marking the clear start of a period of mostly lacklustre recordings, Byrds winning funk days are clearly over, and sometime later he would eventually return to hard-bop and in fact record some very worthwhile sessions. This however, though not terrible, remains an oddity in a mostly strong discography, and even Byrd die-hards may want to shun it, featuring as it does almost none of its headlining act. Bland, flavourless and without clear focus, ‘Love Byrd’ is strictly for those who have almost every Donald Byrd album and just simply can’t afford to bear any empty spaces in their otherwise complete collection.

**

Review: Donald Byrd - Electric Byrd

Donald Byrd’s 1970’s ‘Electric Byrd’ was the trumpet players own reaction to rival Miles Davis’ ‘Bitches Brew’ and the musical gauntlet it had thrown down. It is also seen by many of the jazz cognoscenti as his last worthwhile jazz effort, before he confidently strode into the funk world and the massive commercial successes that it would bring him.

Byrd of course rose to the challenge he had set himself brilliantly. With just the slightest presence of Miles looming, Byrd occupies the same sound but with his own style setting the agenda for the explorations here. Just four lengthy tracks, all orginals, make up the album, with the undeniable masterpiece ‘Estavanico’ opening. Eleven perfect minutes form a groove that redefines the term fusion, taking in a heady brew of jazz, funk, samba and psychedelia among many others. Atmospheric and simply just brilliant, it’s one of Byrds highest creative and musical peaks, and any even casual fans of Miles’ seventies work should definitely check it out.

‘Essence’ completely changes direction with a languorous and strolling bass line, and some wah-wah guitar just bubbling beneath with barely-contained restraint. More exciting rhythms too propel everything forward and allowing a line of soloists to impress with some highly skilled yet not overdone use of echo technology. ‘Xibaba’ takes us back into a Brazillian flavoured groove and some very catchy rhythms on a variety of exotic percussion, with some perfectly pitched soothing flute. It takes a while to get going, but the eastern sounding trumpet that opens is outstanding, and when it heats up, the complex and swirling sounds that engulf the listener are something really very special.

‘The Dude’ meanwhile lives up to its name with one of the heaviest grooves ever – and, like the rest of the album, deserves much greater exposure than it has received. The group is almost big band in size, with a mix of youngsters and old hands blending seamlessly, and a great jazz and funk hybrid is created that is different enough in sound from Byrd’s contemporaries to make it really stand out.

Often, and mistakenly, generalised as being in the same vein as Byrds later funkier, poppier and lighter output, ‘Electric Byrd’ is still a jazz album at heart and it still sounds like a groundbreaking revelation today. To some it’s his last great jazz album, but whatever you think of his later work, this is both a key part of his recording history and is simply awesome music.

*****

Review: Blue Touch Paper - Stand Well Back

Colin Towns has built an impressive career built as much on variety as quality; in more recent years though he has become most well-known for his Mask Orchestra, and being its highly skilled composer, arranger and bandleader. However with this, his new smaller sextet Blue Touch Paper, what has really come to the fore is Towns the superbly skilled keyboard player. And this happily is just one of the many revelatory pleasures from the excellent ‘Stand Well Back’.

The top-flight group is headed up by Towns, but each member here is a star. Drummer Benny Greb and percussionist Stephan Maass create a highly tight and funky rhythm team, further raised by Edward Maclean’s strong full-sounding bass, and the soloists are some of the best of the circuit right now. Saxophonist Mark Lockheart, known from amongst many others Loose Tubes and Polar Bear, and constantly rising guitar star Chris Montague, are some fiery players and throw in some of the finest pure jazz, fusion, rock, funk and cinematic cop soundtrack sounds around.

Even Towns’ somewhat unexpected vocals are perfectly suited here, lending an articulate and intense, yet moving and lyrical quality to the music. This though is no mere vanity project of a player insisting he can sing as well, but a musician using all his musical faculties to best effect. And it works a treat. As does the interplay and interwining of all the instrumentation here, from the way one instrument solos into another, to the bubbling rhythms that play underneath and on top of those same skillful solos.

A fresh sounding recording, and full of vigour, it grabs your attention and doesn’t let up, even over a spacious seventy minute plus playing time. And though sharply produced with plenty of bite and grit, the interplay of the group is such that you just know they’ll be a killer live act. With so much going for them, you have to hope Towns decides to keep the group going far beyond this debut. A crack team of players, with some great tunes, and all under the leadership of a truly class act, this is a real must-hear record and deserves to find its way into as many record collections as possible.

*****

Review: Flora Purim - Nothing Will Be As It Was...Tomorrow

Flora Purim had both risen to stardom and earned critical acclaim while under the Milestone banner and Orin Keepnews stewardship. After four highly productive years though it was time for pastures new and bigger, and Purim made the move to jump ship from the smaller label to the much more commercially sized Warner Brothers.

It was unfortunately this move that signalled the end of Purim’s golden phase; as the more commercial sound strive for new acceptance would tend to move the talented songstress into less musically desirable areas. The opening shot from her Warner years, ‘Nothing Will Be As It Was…Tomorrow’ shows this, for better and for worse, perfectly.

Some good songs are here, courtesy of the Brazillian legend Milton Nascimento, Purim herself, and somewhat surprisingly also some of Earth Wind And Fire, who notably bring the excellent, and probably most famous piece here, ‘Angels’. Sounding like prime Earth Wind And Fire, Purim adds some typically lush vocal work, and the effect is an absolute winner. But in truth it feels less like Flora Purim, and more like Earth Wind And Fire with a Flora Purim guest spot. Purim’s own material works a whole lot better however, and Milton Nascimento’s songs get some good makeover, if with a much heavier funk effect.

‘Bridges’ aside, which gets a nicely soulful arrangement, this whole effort veers more into the late ‘70’s sounds of disco and funk. The album has a classic 1970’s R&B-jazz production quality to it courtesy of George Duke (though here listed as ‘Dawili Gonga’) and Leon ‘Ndugu’ Chancler, that though perfect for certain R&B and jazz acts, here does not quite meld with Purim’s uniquely Brazillian fusion style.

Purim’s silky Portuguese vocals and seductively accented English singing however still work a treat, and the musicianship here is of the usual high quality. As such it works for commited fans of Flora Purim, and of George Duke, and there are a good number of tracks here that will appeal to the casual listener. But for the devotees of Purim’s earlier and classier work, and as a recording on it’s own right it’s a fairly mixed bag.

***

Review: Flora Purim - Encounter

Flora Purim was on the crest of the first wave of jazz fusion in the early and mid 1970’s, and helped create her unique position in the genre by putting her voice up against a whole blend of Brazilian rhythms, new sounds and some incredible backing musician talent.

One thing that always helped position Purim and her music  was her playful and exuberant performances, and this rose to an uptempo peak on the excellent ‘Open Your Eyes, You Can Fly’. ‘Encounter’ then comes as a surprise to the more fusion-headed fans of Purim, aiming for a much more relaxed mellower mood than any of her earlier works. The results however remain unchanged – high quality music from start to finish, including great pieces, pristine musicianship and some of the Brazilian chanteuse’s finest singing to date.

As always featuring a winningly strong line-up of musicians, here new guest McCoy Tyner brings his personal piano touch to proceedings, with a winning duet between Tyner and Purim rating as some of the most interesting work either has committed to tape. Joe Henderson returns to lend some sterling saxophone work too, most notably on the excellent ‘Black Narcissus’, easily the album highlight. Always a fantastic piece of music, Purim’s version here just raises it to another level, with her singing perfectly pitched, and matched sublimely to Henderson’s brilliant solo.

A notably lighter, softer, mellower and distinctly more jazzy recording than any of Flora Purim’s previous works, ‘Encounter’ is a great album. Granted it heads in a different direction, but that is no bad thing. A chilled and relaxing listen, it offers a different side to the singer, a different yet great side, and though probably not the first port of call for newcomers, it should surely be investigated by any fans of her other works.

****

Review: Flora Purim - Open Yours Eyes, You Can Fly

Flora Purim had a terrific run in the seventies, with nine consistently strong albums recorded in a period of just less than seven years, as well as her excellent and famous work with Chick Corea in the first line-up of the Return To Forever group showcasing her to good effect on their eponymous debut and the hugely successful follow-up ‘Light As A Feather’. As a solo performer she gained her greatest praise and notices as a stand-out and more sensual latin-jazz artist, but the true commercial crossover came with her highly successful ‘Open Your Eyes You Can Fly’.

All of the songs here are great, with some perhaps not as impressive as others, but with fine top-of-the-league songwriters on-board, including Chick Corea, there are no weak moments. The players too are all dazzlingly good; witness the exuberant opener and David Amaro’s fuzzy yet instantly grabbing and playful guitar, or Hermeto Pascoal’s soulful flute playing throughout.

Best of all though, crucially and aptly, is Purim herself. Easily at her most charming here, she takes Corea’s ‘Sometime Ago’ and gives it one of her very best performances, while ‘Ina’s Song (Trip To Bahia)’ features her Portuguese vocals at their most passionate. Her writing contribution on ‘San Francisco River’ equally impresses, with a catchy melody and its uniquely cool and relaxing mood.

‘Open Your Eyes…’ is not up there with Purim’s absolute best work, but that really is just down to her producing such consistently good recordings. It does though come incredibly close and being notably more uptempo and upbeat than her other work, it is definitely one to check out.

****

Review: Flora Purim - 500 Miles High

Running at a career high thanks to some very impressive albums, both as a solo artist and as part of the original Return To Forever line-up, a strong and highly unique voice, and some incredible notices and reviews for her recorded output and live shows, Flora Purim did what all good jazz artists do, and recorded a live album that justifiably stands shoulder-to-shoulder with her acclaimed studio efforts.

‘500 Miles High’ gives us the cream of Purim playing live at the 1974 Montreux Jazz Festival, and supported by a typically strong and inspired group, most of whom had played on many of her then current records. As was usual for the time, husband Airto lends his percussive and vocal skills, while Ron Carter fills in on bass in his own unique way, Pat Rebillot handles keyboards, Herbie Mann plays flute and the stellar yet underappreciated David Amaro lets his soaring guitar fly throughout.

In fact, the band members are given such generous spaces and solo opportunities to show their thing that it feels as much a group album as it does a Flora Purim one. Without her the collective showcased here would have delivered something truly spellbinding – as they frequently do – but when the iconic singer takes the mic, everything is elevated to an almost transcendant high, with Purim enhancing everything here above their studo counterparts. Her near signature theme ‘500 Miles High’ is here electric and full of high energy, while Milton Nascimento joins in for a guest spot on both guitar and vocals for joyful and uplifting highlight in the form of his own ‘Cravo E Canela’.

A near perfect recording of a great live show, the only down note is that at only just over forty minutes it’s too short and leaves you craving much more. One of Purim’s greatest records, her studio recordings are definitely to be investigated first, but this is a gorgeous and dancingly beautiful piece of the songstress in her prime and is essential for anyone who is bewitched by her other performances, either under her own name or with Chick Corea. ‘500 Miles High’ is perfectly gorgeous.

****

Review: Flora Purim - Stories To Tell

One of Flora Purim’s most famous and loved recordings, ‘Stories To Tell’ sits at the highest point of the peak of her career, containing excellent song choices, standout turns from some superb musicians, and most of all that distinctively haunting yet gorgeous voice of the singer herself.

As with her best work, husband Airto Moreira leads a group taking in legends as diverse as jazz bass stars Ron Carter and Miroslav Vitous, keyboardist George Duke, trombone man Raul De Souza, and three incredible and very different guitarists in the most welcome form of Earl Klugh, Oscar Castro-Neves and Carlos Santana.

Plowing the same uniquely heady brew as her striking debut, Purim sings beautifully in English and her native Portuguese, as well as wordlessly adding colour, and here and there putting in her woops and yelps of celebration all over the music. And what music it is too; from the sublime ballads, including one cracking Tom Jobim song, to the uptempo party of some very funky jazz.

An album that holds together with no weak moments blotting it, everyone is a standout and every track is pristine, with ‘Silver Sword’ being a particularly great moment of freaky keyboard and guitar interplay, and the closing number ‘O Cantador/I Just Want To Be Here’ offering first a strong ending song and then slowly turning into a steamily energetic free-for-all jam for Purim and her band – and it works a treat.

An album taking in and blending elements from the worlds of jazz, blues, samba, bossa, fusion and many others, it’s Flora Purim at her very, very best in her own comfortable genre of her seemingly sole creation. Alternately funky, beautiful, melodic and rhythmic, it is repeatedly euphoric and hugely memorable, with ‘Stories To Tell’ arguably being the singers greatest album, certainly sitting up there with ‘Butterfly Dreams’, her incredible and perhaps more famous debut record, and it comes with the very highest of recommendations.

*****

Review: Flora Purim - Butterfly Dreams

First emerging on the jazz scene with pianist Duke Pearson and arranger Gil Evans, Flora Purim’s first proper leap into the limelight came with Chick Corea’s invitation to sing and play on the first two electric-jazz-samba Return To Forever albums. The success and exposure of these two landmark efforts then gave the Brazillian singer the impetus and means to launch a solo career, under the stewardship of the highly respected producer Orrin Keepnews.

‘Butterfly Dreams’ from 1974 is that album that launched Purim’s solo career and her unique approach to using her beautiful voice, with an incredible promise that would be fulfilled throughout the rest of the decade. Taking in a mix of material from Stanley Clarke, George Duke, Jobim, Gismonti and some original compositions, it’s a surprisingly brief yet varied and joyous recording that boasts some great supporting players, including as usual her husband and percussion maestro Airto Moreira.

Two very different takes of Clarke’s ‘Dr Jive’ almost bookend the recording with some huge tasty bass and distinctive uptempo Brazillian rhythms underlying Purim’s always outstanding yet perfectly controlled six-octave vocal range. Jobim’s ‘Dindi’ gets a gentle and sympathetic reading, while ‘Summer Night’ and ‘Moon Dreams’ are pure bundles of energy driven by the very alive hotly funky rhythm team.

Joe Henderson, the master tenor saxman, lends a very rare yet welcome appearance on flute, while David Amaro makes the first of many energetic and distinctive guest slots with Purim. ‘Love Reborn’ in particular gets to show Henderson’s saxophone at its best, and some nice acoustic guitar work.

Closing with a redux of Clarke’s ‘Light As A Feather’ that isn’t too far from the original and more famous version from the Return To Forever album of the same name, it signals the end of a beautiful yet also playful and fun debut that is able to showcase Purims many incredible vocal strengths and talents. An outstanding record, it’s recommended to practically anyone.

*****

Review: Herbie Hancock - Man Child

‘Man Child’, Herbie Hancock’s third album of jazz-funk, followed hot on the tail of ‘Thrust’ which itself had swiftly followed the groundbreaking ‘Head Hunters’. Released in 1975 to an expectant audience who had clamoured to the previous rhythm and groove-laden works, ‘Man Child’ now has oddly become one of Hancock’s slightly lesser-known works. ‘Thrust’ had in less than a year changed Hancock’s sound from the raw and cool sounding funk, into something more spacey and trippy with slightly more emphasis on the jazz than the funk. Recording ‘Man Child’, he again changed his sound, this time adding more layers to the ever-increasingly slick mix.

The brilliantly titled ‘Hang Up Your Hang-ups’ opens with some classic sounding of-the-era rhythm guitars and blazing horn work. An awesome funk-pop hybrid, it’s certainly one of Hancock’s most danceable numbers, and the ending breakdown and piano solo come unexpectedly but perfectly. So perfect in fact, that the standard is almost set too high for what has to follow.

‘Sun Touch’ is enjoyable and groovy, and ‘Steppin’ In It’ is also hugely fun and invigorating, with a welcome and sunny guest spot from Stevie Wonder on harmonica. But things begin to come undone with ‘The Trailor’/’The Traitor’ (depending on which issue you get depends on how much spell-checking went on) and ‘Bubbles’. The former has a real bite and power to it, but as with much of Hancock’s later 70’s excursions gets repetitive very quickly, whereas ‘Bubbles’ is just frankly below average, and it’s inclusion sparks worrying curiosity as to the quality control or even the inspiration this time around.

Regardless, having started on a high, things end equally successfully, if distinctly differently. ‘Heartbeat’ is frenetic and twisting; with the band sounding like they’re having a riot of a time, and Hancock gets to close in style with a suitably inspiring solo. It’s up there with some of his best.

All of the musicians here, and there are many, are on top form, with all of the ‘Head Hunters’ and ‘Thrust’ alumni being present against a whole slew more, including Wayne Shorter adding some very nice soprano work. Occasionally though there are just too many instruments, layers and effects all at one time. And with slightly flatter sounding production than before, it all sounds just too slickly commercial. In parts it’s a good sound suiting the pieces, in others it’s all too clean, almost as though someone forgot that part of the earlier charm was that rawer and earthier heavy groove. Also, whereas the previous two albums each contained just four long yet always interesting numbers, the pieces here at times, although shorter, seem to go on for far too long without ever hitting any kind of real direction.

‘Man Child’ ultimately sits at the top of the middle phase of Hancocks funk odyssey. It was here that things started to get too polished and lacking the same energy that infused the earlier works, but the majority is good fun party music and is sure to appeal to fans of the funk.

***

Review: Herbie Hancock - Thrust

A jazz prodigy by the time he was in his early twenties, Herbie Hancock hit gold in 1973 with ‘Head Hunters’, his first dive into the full-on electric funk world. Mixing jazz with the worlds of funk, rock and soul, it garnered strong reviews, attracted a newer, hipper audience and launched Hancock into the commercial stratosphere.

Not wasting any time and buoyed by his success, Hancock swiftly headed back into the Columbia studios for the follow-up, with bassist Paul Jackson, percussionist Bill Summers and Bernie Maupin on saxophone, flute and clarinet all returning - Harvey Mason on drums from the earlier album though being replaced by Mike Clark.

Following a similar pattern to ‘Head Hunters’, though far from a complete retread, ‘Thrust’ instead has a much more jazz vibe, but still maintains a healthy touch of the funk muscle. ‘Palm Grease’ builds on a steady curveball of a rhythm created by Clark and Jackson, with Hancock and Summers joining in, bending it and jamming over the top. Bernie Maupin first states the melody line with his flute, before adding extra power by switching to the bigger voiced tenor saxophone. It’s here that the groove really gets into its element. A less punchy opening than ‘Chameleon’ from ‘Head Hunters’ perhaps, it chooses to start sparsely before adding layer after layer until it reaches into a rhythmic swing all it’s own.

‘Actual Proof’ continues the sound and the groove, adding more complicated rhythms and going for a distinctly contemporary jazz approach. ‘Butterfly’, perhaps the highlight of the set, opts for a more peaceful and slowed down tempo approach, and is easily the most beautiful piece from Hancock’s electric phase, with the mood and feel being a credit to Maupins skillful use of his celebrated bass clarinet and his less often played soprano sax. Hancock gets to show his synthesizer mastery by giving the impression of flight against a calm jazz backdrop, before finally stating the main melody line right at the very end. ‘Spank-A-Lee’ that closes is, in contrast, just pure groove. A new form of danceable jazz is formed, with all the rhythm players combining to give the perfect springboard to Maupins outstanding ability and feel for the tenor saxophone.

Less famous but by no means less successful than ‘Head Hunters’, ‘Thrust’ is a great jazz funk record that will appeal to anyone who liked ‘Head Hunters’, and comes highly recommended for anyone wanting more of the same brand of funk.

****

Review: Miles Davis - The Complete Bitches Brew

‘The Complete Bitches Brew Sessions’ is a bit of a misnomer, and one that has drawn some small negative criticism its way. The music for ‘Bitches Brew’ was recorded over three very productive days in August of 1969, much like ‘In A Silent Way’ before it. Also, just as with ‘In A Silent Way’, it was for the most part constructed from music cut, spliced and looped by Miles Davis and producer Teo Macero. And for years fans argued (with both albums) whether or not the original master material was unheard genius, and Macero had ruined Miles’ work, or whether the original material was so bad, so unlistenable, that Macero had effectively salvaged the recordings and had gone unthanked.

When the ‘In A Silent Way’ complete sessions were eventually released as a box set, fans finally got to hear, for the first time ever, the original master tapes, before any cutting or editing work. Teo Macero furiously bemoaned their release, making it clear that Miles would not want any of this unreleased ‘work in progress’ material released, and neither did he himself. The more he protested though, the more the fans salivated. Where earlier box sets had given the listener unreleased snippets and takes, or even in some case whole entire unreleased songs, this was going to give the fans complete and whole material by Miles, as he’d played and recorded it, before it had been ‘hacked to ribbons’, and then ‘pasted back together’.

In fact, what the untouched material showed when it was eventually heard was that the original finished album released back in 1969 was perfect, and that the previously unreleased ‘demos’, while interesting, were incomplete. They were a curio, but musically, nowhere close to what had already been given to us.

What this four-disc box-set gives us though is very different. The complete six tracks from the original album sit proudly at the front, but there are no demo tracks or untouched fragments that would later make up the legendary album. What we instead get is three hours of unreleased material from recording sessions five months later in 1970. So not quite ‘The Complete Bitches Brew’ then, but more some additional largely unheard music recorded by most of the same musicians recorded sometime later that was probably quite difficult for the record label to package and market as a standalone release. Whether the criticism of this naming stands or not, this music is incredible, and the fact it remained in Columbias vaults for twenty-five years is testament to Miles’ quality control.

Including pieces from the previously released ‘Big Fun’, the overall package thematically contains the last presence of multiple keyboards. Later Miles would make his music much more guitar heavy, and eventually lose the keyboards altogether (unlike other jazz and funk acts who conversely were losing guitars to add more keyboards). These sessions were to be no ‘Bitches Brew 2’ though, and Miles sought to change direction again. For these sessions he chose the sitar and classical Indian influences.

‘Great Expectations’ and its segue ‘Orange Lady’ is a key track well-worth its inclusion, with its prowling bass, sinister trumpet and washes of sitar. Brooding and funky, it’s a truly awesome piece of music and shows a potential future direction, that though tantalizing was obviously considered by Miles to have no future. David Crosbys ‘Guinnevere’ too gets a beautiful, though barely recognizable, sitar laden remake.

‘Corrado’ and ‘The Little Blue Frog’ are great funk numbers that hint at what actual path Miles would later take, although here perhaps more lush, while ‘Recollections’ and ‘Lonely Fire’ feature such incredible solos, it’s a wonder that these weren’t released or at least edited into other tracks later on.

For the most part, the new music here differs in sound to the older more well-known ‘Bitches Brew’ material. While still possessing a dense sound, where ‘Bitches Brew’ was dark, murky, at times almost claustrophobic in sound, the newer pieces here appear more lush, and more in the direction of jazz-funk than the earlier jazz-rock. Ignore the complainers – this is vital and exciting music, helping show us the linking music between ‘Bitches Brew’ and the later funk-heavy sound Miles would adopt. Its release here, in a lavish presentation book with superb artwork, photographs and essays, is a cause for celebration.

*****

Review: Miles Davis - Bitches Brew

‘Bitches Brew’ unsurprisingly on its initial release caused a great deal of controversy. The album was not ‘an album by Miles Davis’, but instead bore the heading ‘Directions In Music By Miles Davis’. This caused a minor furore but was quickly over-shadowed by the artwork, which had dared to be completely different from any other previous jazz album. To add further fuel to the fire this was a double album? In jazz? By the time the critics got to the actual title of the album, Miles must have been both smiling and readying himself for the critical knives-sharpening.

Recorded in just three days in August of 1969, sharing much in common with the previous ‘In A Silent Way’ recorded just six months earlier, ‘Bitches Brew’ is a darker, funkier and more aggressive take on jazz than jazz fans before had ever anticipated.

All of the musicians from the previous recording returned, with the exception of Tony Williams and Herbie Hancock, and a further seven joined. Not all thirteen musicians are present on all tracks but it still results in a dense and heady wall of sound. Jazz and rock had been bubbling away for a good while by the time it had arrived, but ‘Bitches Brew’ marked a huge shift. ‘Bitches Brew’ was considered THE jazz album to have this huge a level of influence, and it was the pivotal point for the birth of what would soon be dubbed ‘fusion’.

Similar to ‘In A Silent Way’ perhaps in method, the music itself is different in several very important ways. The music is denser, and murkier than before, a good deal of this is due to the two bassists’ present, playing electric and acoustic bass, multiple drummers and percussionists, and three electric piano players. All these playing at once, the resulting poly-rhythmic sound is mesmerising and hypnotic. The other major contributor to this new sound is Bennie Maupin who plays the bass clarinet throughout. There are no solos or rhythm pieces from Maupin, just layers of ‘dark sound’ from the clarinet – either shadowing other instruments or just adding to the haze in the atmosphere. Miles himself blasts through the murk helped by producer Teo Macero, clearly realising the renewed energy and spirit in his playing, by bringing him right to the front of the mix.

The two discs themselves that make up the album are actually quite different. Disc one seeming overall more experimental and more the product of Teo Maceros cuts and edits. Disc two seeming more composed and more aggressive.

‘Pharoah’s Dance’ has a long slow brooding building feel to it, with sporadic jams, and frenetic builds before giving way to quiet passages. Strong solos from Miles feature prominently. And because there were so many quality moments, Teo Macero took out John McLaughlins 4 minute guitar freak out, entitled it ‘John McLauchlin’ and put it in the middle of the more aggressive second disc. Like its most obvious cousin, ‘In A Silent Way’, ‘Pharoahs Dance’ has atmosphere in spades.

The album then changes gear with the title track, by starting with a sombre bass beat, before Miles comes in with an echo-laden trumpet that both haunts and plays with the listener, with the rest of the band coming in shortly afterwards. Guitar and pianos all work together to add a colourful rhythm, without ever coming to the fore and dominating proceedings. The band stops here and there, allowing the listener to hear just anonymous finger clicks and that sombre bass beat. The band plays with undulating sounds and volume before ending everything with just the bass fading in and out with Miles echo trumpet playing us out.

The first disc has slower, sometimes even mellower, grooves; whereas the second punches in a harder beat with the superb, almost centre-piece like, ‘Spanish Key’. A pacy strutting, stop-start build-up of basses and drums, with what sounds like the band one-by-one tuning up in the background ready to enter.  The horns of Miles and Wayne Shorter walk in and riff, then we’re hit with the first break-up hook from Chick Corea (that is certainly my highlight from the album). From here, the pianos add to the mix, and the guitar takes lead. A completely unedited take, the infectious heady groove keeps going incessantly, grabbing you, before that hook comes in again, and everything starts up again. Ending like a jam session, one-by-one the musicians start to tail off, gradually into silence.

Things then fade back in, almost seguing  with John McLaughlin’s eponymous track. A strong bass and piano rhythm covered in waves of superb keyboard washes with McLaughlin laying down hot guitar licks. Ending as it begun, it fades out having won us further admiration for the always excellent guitarist.

‘Miles Runs The Voodoo Down’ wins points for possessing one of the greatest titles of all time, as well being a masterpiece in its own right regardless. The slow strutting bass beat again leads up to Miles vamping in, leading the band, and then reclining to let them take over, before returning to lead them out. With a strong Hendrix influence, the track is easily the grittiest funkiest number here.

Wayne Shorter’s ‘Sanctuary’ closes the album, redone here as an electric jazz ballad opening, with Miles wistful trumpet, giving way to light keyboard flourishes. This gives the album’s end a frightening sounding frenetic climax.

An exhilarating ride, ‘Bitches Brew’ is not for everyone. Critics were polarized on its initial release, and this has for a good part changed with the passing of time. Alongside Miles’ ‘Kind Of Blue’, it is often cited as being the biggest selling jazz album of all time, indeed it went gold after just a few month.

Extra controversy was saved for the cut and edit techniques employed by Teo Macero though. Whereas ‘In A Silent Way’ had used a few edits and loops, and had critics grumbling quietly, ‘Bitches Brew’ used a completely different tack. ‘Pharoah’s Dance’ in particular was composed out of nineteen separate edits, loops and cuts to construct the music that Miles wanted. This prompted loud criticisms of this new way of recording, with the declaration being that jazz should be improvised in the studio, with one band in a single take. Such shouts were clearly bunk and Miles soon found himself playing to thousands, and leading the way forward in the new genre of fusion. Jazz soon then either chose to go electric, adopt electric instrumentation, or stay 100% acoustic for the purists. When Miles was eventually asked if he still played jazz – his reply was: “I don’t play jazz, I play music.”

Some people love it, others hate it – but no-one is indifferent to ‘Bitches Brew’. Undeniably it creates a strong and powerful feeling inside of you. Regardless of what you've heard, it demands your attention.

*****

Review: Herbie Hancock - Headhunters

Herbie Hancock had, before he’d even hit twenty years old, been a talent to watch. In his early twenties he laid down some classic recordings for Blue Note with some of the best players around, played with the great Donald Byrd, and been drafted into Miles Davis’ band to help form the second great quintet. Helping Miles on his seminal electric fusion jazz album ‘In A Silent Way’, Miles would then go onto develop his own darker heavier funk sound through recordings such as ‘Bitches Brew’, ‘Jack Johnson’ and ‘On The Corner’, as well as increasingly funkier sounding live performances.

Hancock though would spend a few years dabbling with funking-up his acoustic music and band, before making a move into the fully-fledged electric funk that Miles had embraced. Joining the same label as Miles, ‘Sextant’ released on Columbia in 1973 found him testing the waters with the electronic sounds of the gradually emerging jazz-fusion movement, but it was ‘Head Hunters’ released later in the same year that launched him head-first into jazz-funk stardom.

The stunning sixteen-minute opener ‘Chameleon’, unlike anything else at the time runs a funkified musical labyrinth of a rich tapestry of sounds and electronic manipulations. Electric bassist Paul Jackson lays down a steady, yet cool groove with Harvey Mason on drums, while Bernie Maupin on saxophone follows Hancocks leading melodies with an effortless ease. Full of great segments, the whole works to great effect, and has been sampled countless times, but nothing compares to the fantastic original.

An earlier tune from the decade before, ‘Watermelon Man’ from 1962’s debut ‘Takin’ Off’ is given a complete redux, as Hancock and his team strip it down to a tropical sounding funk, with Maupins flute shimmering against a great rhythm backdrop. Hancock’s keyboards lead the melody gently as he gives breathing room to his players for some free improvisation. Taken from it’s beginnings as a relatively conventional acoustic group number, it is reset into a tribal-electro-jam, and it sounds magnificent.

‘Sly’ is the peak of improvisational free-for-all funk, with a frantic yet carefully laid out style as everyone gets to show off their musical muscle. Bill Summers infectious percussion rhythms, here with congas, comes into its own as the pace increases. Combined with Harvey Mason’s drums, they create a solid and highly grooved percussive wall that only adds to an already top-flight composition.

By contrast to the first three numbers, the last piece, ‘Vein Melter’ finds everyone at a more relaxed pace. The keyboards and sax, light and gentle, mix with swaggering funk of Jackson’s bass, while Mason and Summers again get to show their musical prowess in the equally subtle yet captivating rhythmic wave they create.

‘Head Hunters’ was a massive success on its release, selling over a million copies and beginning Hancocks straddling of the jazz and pop worlds. Creating a new funk style, it would go on to influence other music outside of jazz and in no small way help change the way people listened to music overall. Also helping open the doors for electronic music such as electro, hip-hop and other sample-based music, its influence can be felt in almost all music genres. Hancock took a different funk route to the funk bands of the time, and a different one to that of the other jazzers’ gone funk, like Donald Byrd funk-pop, and Miles’ jungle-funk, and in doing so became a different pioneer. Time has not diminished this most influential of recordings, and it still to this day remains a highly addictive listening experience. Dig out your copy now.

*****