Howard Roberts “Antelope Freeway” (1971)

From the earliest days of electronic gimmickry and 16-track, 2″ recording comes this fusion curiosity, replete with all sorts of quaint psychedelic touches that were probably intended to garner radio airplay in some better world than this. As I recall, the reviewer in Down Beat burned poor Howard Roberts at the stake. A pity, because this fun recording has all sorts of great blues-inflected jazz-guitar showcases, humorous tangents, and audiophile sound effects to recommend it—assuming your tastes run to concluding an acoustic guitar transition with a stereo-panned motorcycle zooming through your living room. While it’s something of a stretch, at many points Antelope Freeway suggests Edgard Varèse’s use of processed tape effects and found sounds to create a spiky aural collage. A closer antecedent is the Firesign Theatre, whose influence is self-evident in “Five Gallons of Astral Flash Could Keep You Up for Thirteen Weeks,” a hilarious sendup of late-night journeys down the radio dial. None of this would mean a damn if it weren’t for a dynamic Record Plant multitrack recording, a hard-grooving Bitches Brew-lite rhythm section, and Roberts’ devoutly funky phrasing on such virtuoso workouts as “Sixteen Track Firemen” and “Roadwork”—or, in a luminously lyrical mood, on the Echoplexed harmonic balladry of “Dark Ominous Clouds” and “Santa Clara River Bottom.” —Chip Stern

Bill Evans “Symbiosis” (1974)

This recording is really amazing. Claus Ogermann’s compositions and arranging are top notch, and the music touches on some of Evans’ past piano work with George Russell and Miles Davis. The 2nd movement’s track 4 is truly one of my favorite Bill Evans performances. The space he creates while playing with such stark emotion is simply breathtaking. The album as a whole sounds great, and all of the pieces are excellent. The 2nd movement is more what Evans was exploring at the time, very introspective, while the 1st movement reminds me of the George Russell albums that Evans played a prominent role on. Also, this trio of his is really shortchanged by a lot of people. Eddie Gomez and Marty Morrell are simply fantastic. I would put this in my top 3 Bill Evans albums of all time. —Tolkkii

Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66 “Stillness” (1971)

This is not one of your parent’s radio-friendly Brasil ’66 LP’s (although we love those too). Here the group seamlessly blend folk, Brazilian pop and psychedelic rock for some surprising results. The often sampled, funky version of Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth” is a definite highlight along with the quiet title track, the jazzy version of Joni Mitchell’s “Chelsea Morning,” Caetano Veloso’s “Lost in Paradise” and the breath-taking arrangement of Blood, Sweat and Tears’ “Sometimes in Winter.” This often overlooked LP is a Jive Time Records’ staff favorite and one that sees a lot of our turntable. It’s also relatively scarce for a Sergio Mendes title so grab it when you see it! -David

Glossy Grooves: Selected CTI Recordings

Creed Taylor Incorporated, or CTI Records, is a jazz label fashioned by producer Creed Taylor. Taylor was widely celebrated as the founder of the famed Impulse! label as well as producing classic records for Verve. Impulse! was regarded as being one of the most adventurous labels in jazz during the mid sixties, known for its high quality packaging and eclectic musical styles. When Taylor formed CTI records in 1967, he took these aspects with him. Along with his producing chops, Taylor recruited the great Blue Note legend Rudy Van Gelder, who provided studio time and sound engineering skills. This dream team, alongside some of the top musicians in jazz, created a body of work consisting of high quality, slick (occasionally too slick) recordings of the late sixties and early seventies. Most of the music was a fusion of jazz, funk and R&B, along with Latin themes sprinkled with floating, introspective, surreal interludes. Taylor would frequently provide a string section to the recordings as well. There were also some surprises, with freer more experimental styles integrated into the discography.

CTI remains an important aspect in the evolution of jazz and popular music, especially in hip-hop and neo-soul. Dozens of samples have been lifted from these records; the warm analog production on these records has influenced musicians from all over the spectrum. The presence of Taylor’s craftsmanship (and those tasty beats the DJs all love) can be heard from artists such as LL Cool J and Snoop Dog to Erykah Badu and Prince as well as various electronic free funk groups like Isotope 217. Although several of the records have not aged well (Taylor would often add string sections that tended to water down the music and now sound dated), an abundance of records from CTI still hold relevance today.

Basically, Creed Taylor’s CTI put the “smooth” in jazz before it became a dirty word to purists. In fact, two factors remain pure: the clean beats and the glossy grooves. Here are five records that should be of interest:

1. Freddie Hubbard Red Clay (1970)-A dark, austere album, modern, while at the same time nodding to the great West Coast Cool records of the late fifties. Not only is this essential for any CTI collection but in any jazz collection, period. Electric and acoustic, yet not quite fusion, funky but still swings, this record helped the trumpeter escape the inevitable shadow of Miles Davis.

2. Hubert Laws In the Beginning(1974)-A beautiful record by the flautist Hubert laws. Gentle melodies that standout with steady beats. Soft guitars and vibes along with exotic Latin percussion from Airto that make you want to dance in your dreams.

3. Joe Farrell Joe Farrell Quartet (1970)-An outing led by Joe Farrell on reeds and features the guitar of John McLaughin , Jack DeJohnette on drums, bass extraordinaire Dave Holland and Chick Corea on piano. These cats play a set that smolders but never burns out. There are also some more straight ahead tracks to accompany the avant-garde feel of the record. This is an unusual “outside/inside” record for CTI and a pleasant surprise for fusion, free jazz and straight ahead fans alike.

4: Airto Fingers (1973)-Brazilian percussionist/vocalist Airto was a staple on many recordings for CTI, providing a crucial element to the sound. This is his fist record as a leader for CTI. Here we have a hard hitting Brazilian jazz/rock/funk mixture with Flora Purim bringing some additional vocals to accompany Airto. David Amaro brings an array of guitar styles to the mix from bossa nova comping to fuzzed out rock solos. This is some multifaceted music that can’t be put in any box.

5. George Benson Beyond the Blue Horizon (1971) – A rare, stripped down CTI soul-jazz record from the great guitarist George Benson. Clarence Palmer’s greasy organ licks accentuate the subtle mastery of Jack DeJohnette on drums, bassist Ron Carter plucks the upright bass with much funk. Dig the opening: a hip and fresh rendition of Miles Davis’ ultra cool cut “So What”.

Plenty of other records could have easily been included here. For further exploration, there’s Freddy Hubbard’s Straight Life (1970), a raw jam session that has relentless, immediate grooves and features Herbie Hancock’s electric piano. Vibraphonist Milt Jackson’s Sunflower (1972) is considered a classic by many, a breezy floating record that never gets too light. Drummer Billy Cobham keeps it just rigid enough (even with the string section); I hear the luminous sounds of Sunflower on Zero 7 and Pink Martini records. Hubert Laws Crying Song (1969) Is an early recording from CTI, an introspective piece to the point of almost meditative; highlights include two Pink Floyd covers “Cymbaline” and “Crying Song”. Finally, guitarist Alan Holdsworth’s Velvet Darkness (1976) is an all out fusion affair that could easily be filed in the progressive rock section, another surprise from CTI. —ECM Tim

Are we forgetting your favorite CTI recording? We’d love to hear your comments:

Herbie Hancock “Mwandishi” (1971)

Like a lot of early 70’s fusion, this is highly indebted to Miles Davis’ In A Silent Way and Bitches Brew-era work, combining elements of funk, jazz, and avant-garde with Herbie’s own love of electronic keyboards and primitive synthesizers, low on melodic content but high on atmosphere. His work would get progressively funkier as the years went on, but Mwandishi’s three lengthy tracks are concerned more with creating an otherworldy vibe aimed at your head more than your feet. “Ostinato” emerges out of a spacey haze and rides a funky bass riff for much of its duration, a vehicle for a lengthy electric piano solo and propelled by some exotic percussion. A mellow, sleepy backdrop with washes of echoed electric piano and trumpet flourishes carries “You Know When You’ll Get There,” maintaining a quiet mood, though the band occasionally comes together to play a brief melodic figure, while “Wandering Spirit Song” tempers a similar vibe with frequent bursts of free-form noise. Mwandishi comes recommended to anyone with a love of fusion in the days before it largely morphed into a funk/rock showcase for virtuoso soloing. –Ben

Hank Mobley “Soul Station” (1960)

Hank Mobley recorded this album fresh out of jail after being convicted for heroin posession. Maybe it was relief at finally being free, but the playing here is beautifully relaxed and poised, with a strong sense of flow. As a player, Mobley was sometimes ill-served by recording engineers, but he sounds superb here. And no complaints about the band! There’s nothing revolutionary here, which may lead you to underrate this record; I used to, but the more I get to know it, the better it sounds. —Brad

Keith Jarrett “Death and the Flower” (1974)

In the early 70s, Keith Jarrett formed two groups. One recorded for the German label, ECM, the other (as on this LP) for the traditional American Jazz label, Impulse. The Impulse team consisted of Paul Motian on drums, Dewey Redman on reeds, Charlie Haden on bass, Guilherme Franco on percussion and Jarrett on the grand piano. I prefer this group to the ECM band. In both bands, Jarrett never touched an electric keyboard. Everybody was into some kind of spiritual calling at that time; Jarrett is no exception as the album title and his “poem” on the cover show. Death And The Flower is an example of how Keith Jarrett helped shape the way Jazz was to sound in the future. A new “World Music” feel and the chamber music like intimacy make this an innovative LP. The music still sounds fresh and relevant. The first side of this album, recorded in ’74, is filled with the title track. It spends the first minutes to create an African atmosphere with percussion and flute. Then the double bass contributes a riff and eventually, the piano starts and after a searching phase, the beat carries the song to harmonic sequence of minor chords. As the song flows, each musician takes a chance to show his skills. Then, the song slows down just to pick up a new speed, and Keith provides an irresistible riff on the piano moving the band to a dense groove.

Prayer is a slow and quiet meditation showing how subtly this group plays. It’s amazing to hear how well each musician listens to what is going on. Jarrett’s improvisation demonstrates a strong influence of the classical tradition, notably Debussy, and at one point, he creates a minimalist pattern á la “Steve Reich”. The last song, Great Bird, recalls the Coltrane sound of his last years. Based on the theme (a falling sequence), there’s free collective improvisation. The band corresponds in dreamlike confidence. Death And The Flower, in a word, is recommendable, not just to Jarrett fans. –Yofriend

Pat Metheny & Ornette Coleman “Song X” (1986)

I love unlikely combinations in musical settings. I also love risks and artists who refuse to be pigeonholed. Nothing is more evident of this than on this improv workout from 1986: guitarist Pat Metheny and the innovative saxophonist/free jazz veteran Ornette Coleman’s Song X. Backed by two other Jazz legends, drummer Jack DeJohnette and bassist Charlie Haden, along with Coleman’s son, Denardo on Percussion, comes a free jazz gem that seemed to come from nowhere. Metheny shocked all of his defectors who loathe his smooth jazz tendencies on this record. At the time Song X was released, he was enjoying massive success with The Pat Metheny Group, filling venues and gaining extensive airplay with their highly accessible brand of fusion. Then comes this curve ball. He had always had an outspoken admiration for Ornette Coleman but the combination of the two in a musical setting still was a bit bizarre – but effective.

The interplay between Metheny and Coleman is unbelievably natural with Metheny playing abstract guitar lines perfectly intertwined with Coleman’s angular alto. Jack DeJohnette’s frantic (but cohesive) drumming is in fine form, he manages to squeeze everything out of his kit on this record, and then some. Bassist Charlie Haden is no stranger to this idiom (he’s been playing alongside Coleman since the late fifties) and sits in perfectly, providing a pulse all his own. Coleman’s son Denardo adds some esoteric percussion textures as well. It even stays innovative and fresh when Metheny picks up his dreaded guitar synth on one track. Song X isn’t just another set by a jazz super group, this record manages to do what all classic free jazz records have done before and after: be accessible, yet challenging, without being contrived. There is nothing trivial about this record. It’s a swinging set of avant-garde goodness by some of the best (and one with some new found street-cred) in the business. These guys dug playing on this session and you can feel the inspiration in the music. –ECM Tim

Quiet Chaos: 
An Introduction to ECM Records

ECM Records is a jazz label founded in 1969 in Munich, Germany by producer/bassist Manfred Eicher. ECM (Edition of Contemporary Music) became known as a label that created a musical environment all its own. The recordings were sparse, minimalistic and relying on space as an accent to create what is now widely known as the “ECM sound”. Most of the recordings were rooted in jazz but combined with other genres. As well as blues, funk and rock, various forms of European folk, world music and contemporary classical music frequently found its way into the landscape. From the packaging, to the pristine production style, Eicher’s releases all are linked with a certain aesthetic that ties them together; he has definitely had a vision in mind. One reviewer from Coda Magazine described the music as “The most Beautiful Sound Next to Silence.” But not all critics shared the same opinion.

The music was, and still is, ostracized for being self-absorbed, cold, and lacking soul. Depending on the listeners taste, the label has also been credited (or accused) of ushering in the New Age era. A number of releases do indeed have these qualities that can drag down and can get a bit arid. But there are many recordings that hit the mark, where space fills the gaps and silence gains a voice, resulting in exciting and innovative art.

Manfred Eicher’s ECM has had a significant impact on the evolution of jazz and improvised music and how it is produced, performed and recorded. By using subtlety as a tool, and combining different styles, his musical stamp has managed to produce some exploratory, modern sounds that could easily suit a broad range of musical tastes. The label is still active and going strong today and Eicher is still applying his “less is more” approach to dozens of recordings each year.

Listed here are some releases that will hopefully dispel some of the negativity surrounding the label:

1. Gateway Gateway (1975) Guitar trio set featuring John Abercrombie on guitar, the great Jack DeJohnette behind the drums, and Dave Holland on bass. This record covers everything from post-bop swing to abstract, sonic explorations. This is a criminally underrated guitar trio record, if not one of the best releases from ECM.

2. Chick Corea , Dave Holland, Barry Altschul ARC (1971) Chick Corea on piano with Dave Holland on bass and Barry Altschul on percussion – Any fans of the classic piano trio should study this record, both lyrical and dissonant; it bridges the gap between free improv and structure.

3. Julian Priester Love, Love (1973) An “electrocoustic” jazz/ funk session with tight horn arrangements, wah guitars, low-fi bass lines and eerie synth swells mingled with Latin flavored piano runs. This is a modern sounding, progressive record that still sounds fresh today-a Jive Time favorite.

4. Nils Petter Molvær Solid Ether (2000) This is trumpet player Nils Petter Molvær’s second release by this project ; a stew of trumpet swirls, loops, guitars, and various electronics with programmed beats intertwined with live drums, along with gentle female vocal interludes. There’s also some sampling from DJ Strangefruit .

5. John Abercrombie Timeless (1975) Another trio record featuring John Abercrombie and Jack DeJohnette, only this time Jan Hammer on keyboards joins the fold. I had to include this spaced out fusion masterpiece. Frenetic drumming and fuzzed out guitar and organ washes create psychedelic soundscapes with funky breaks alongside tender acoustic guitar/piano duets. No Miami Vice theme here.

For further listening check out Ebhard Weber’s Colours of Chloë (1973); think Tortoise, Talk Talk and Him (not to be confused with the metal group of the same name). Fans of progressive rock and fusion such as early King Crimson and Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew should give guitarist Terje Rypdal’s first four ECM records a spin: Terje Rypdal (1971), What Comes After (1973), Whenever I seem to be Far Away (1974) and Odyssey (1975). More recent releases include Fender Rhodes/pianist Nik Bärtch’s quartet Ronin (2006) that focuses on groove and repetitive motifs creating tension as the music evolves. Drummer Thomas StrØnen and Saxophonist Ian Ballamy’s group Food’s Quiet Inlet (2010) craft a starkly beautiful, atmospheric blend of electronic and acoustic sounds, if you like live electronics and down tempo check this out. – ECM Tim

Are we forgetting your favorite ECM recording? We’d love to hear your comments:

Charles Mingus “Mingus Ah Um” (1959)

Mingus Ah Um is almost absurdly energetic. The pure joy of “Better Git It in Your Soul” is some of the most exciting, exuberant jazz I’ve ever heard, with the gospel shouts and calls, and the monumental tempo. Ah Um reminds me of Raymond Scott, as this outpouring of manic sound that seems perpetually on the brink of chaos, but always tightly controlled. I feel like I lack the lexicon to write about jazz, but I know this is some invigorating, essential music that never flags and serves as an excellent riposte to anyone who has the temerity to say that jazz is boring and/or wanky. I do prefer the first side to the calmer second side (or the back half of the album, anyway I don’t own the LP), but it’s all pretty stunning. –Jared

Miles Davis “Get Up With It” (1970)

Without a doubt, one of the greatest albums of them all, a double set only comparable to the likes of the Stooges’ “Funhouse” in its darkness, intensity and raw, funky sexuality. Now for starters let’s get something straight: I loathe “fusion”, and to even CONSIDER putting Miles’ music of the ’70s in that category – a genre filled with lilly-livered chumps like Return To Forever and the Yellow Jackets – is a great disservice to Miles and his music. From 1969 to ’75, Mr. Davis pioneered and created his own unique sounds, a mixture of hard funk, psychedelic rock, avant-garde electronics and free jazz, that has never been equalled in regards to its sonics or its “vibe”. There is NOTHING that can touch the raised-middle-finger jab in the guts felt when one puts on discs like “Dark Magus”, “Live Evil”, “Agharta”, “Big Fun” or “On The Corner”. The feelings of utter loathing and despair, the overwhelming EMOTION of these discs can be too much, yet nothing can prepare you for 1974’s “Get Up With It”, a disc of such wildness and total lack of any commercial forethought (and thank the heavens for that) that it was granted pretty much instant deletion upon release and has mainly only been available from Japan for the last 25 years.

Start with the cover: a big, slightly unflattering, grainy photo of The Man. It’s the sight of a man against the world, battling for his own identity. Hit the first track, “He Loved Him Madly” (a tribute to Duke Ellington), a 32-minute ambient piece only broken up occasionally by Peter Cosey’s mumbling guitar lines. It’s one of the saddest damn songs you’ll ever hear, and you can bet yer booty that if it was made by a bunch of white guys in Berlin ca. ’71, every Krautrock freak in town would be hailing it as a classic. Next track “Maiysha” is a schizophrenic one. For ten minutes in merely putters along like a lite Latin number, interrupted sporadically by Miles’ Sun Ra-like organ, then it stops, gets into a hard groove and proceeds to move along to Peter Cosey’s awesome guitar screeches for another five minutes. Hot. “Honky Tonk” is up next, a brief interlude of stop-start rhythms and noisy organ crunch. It prepares you for the next track the unstoppable “Rated X”, THE peak of Miles’ – or maybe anyone’s – sonic capabilities. Part hyperdive breakbeat rhthyms, part uber-funk, and nine parts pure noise, there is no other sound on earth as MOVING as this song. Get up with it. Disc two starts with “Calypso Frelimo”, another 32-minute piece that starts where “Rated X” finishes off. Ecstatic peaks of dark psychedelic jamming, aided by Miles’ wah-wah’d trumpet, gel and compete. “Red China Blues” is a brief number that kicks it in a Chess-Records-meets-Ornette way, and the 15-minute+ “Mtume” once again takes you for a ride with its collision of Cosey’s guitar (a highly under-rated player in a field with the likes of Sonny Sharrock) and about half a dozen percussionists. Finishing is “Billy Preston”, more chilling mid-range avant-funk to close the set. “Get Up With It” is the perfect summation of what was filling Miles’ head at the time: the avant electronics of Stockhausen, the cyclical funk of James Brown, the wailing psych guitar of Hendrix, the improvised freeness of Ornette Coleman and as The Man himself put it, “a deep African thing”. Many words have been written on Miles’ music of this period, but to really GET it, you have to LISTEN to it. Not a word is spoken on GUWI, yet it speaks volumes on its creator’s alienation and sense of despair. As far as so-called “out-rock” goes, this is about as “out” as you could get, and certainly about as purely “psychedelic” as music has ever gotten, so do the done thing and get with it. –Dave

Miles Davis “My Funny Valentine” (1965)

Never has there been such a perfect example of the difference between what we might call the Apollonian and Dionysian (if we were utterly pretentious). In February 1964, Miles Davis and his then band — Tony Williams on drums, Ron Carter on bass, Herbie Hancock on piano and George Coleman on sax — played a concert at New York’s Philharmonic Hall that was subsequently split for release on two LPs. The fast numbers went on Four and More, a fun little album but no great shakes; there’s plenty of power, but not much else. The ballads, though, wound up here, and the end result is one of the most beautiful and moving jazz records I own. It’s stunningly delicate; the five musicians play with almost ESP-like sensitivity to each other. Listen, though, to Miles; he has rarely played with such lyricism, such emotion. “Stella by Starlight” in particular sounds like a direct connection to a place far deeper than any he has gone before. Naked, and necessary. –Brad