Everyone who played in jazz bands during
their high school and college years were
learning the basics of musicianship, e.g.
remembering to bring your book of charts,
spare reeds, pencils, etc.; where in the
closet your clean pressed shirt could be
found; and most importantly, how to properly
misbehave while riding the bus to the next
competition. At the same time, the charts
in your book, and if you were lucky, the
music played on your local jazz station
became special memories ones that likely
are as fresh today as they were then.
The 1970s were not that friendly to straight
ahead jazz. The preponderance of fusion
and essentially instrumental pop was evident
as the major record labels wanted to sell
discs, not necessarily preserve an art form.
One brash exception to the commercial smoothing
of jazz was the kid from Trenton, Richie
Cole. Unapologetically bebop, Richie believed
that there was still a place for very straight
ahead jazz, and continued to pay homage
to Charlie Parker despite a cultural backdrop
of disco, funk, fusion, and other radio
delivered audio. Just listen to what he
created from a TV game show theme.
The catalog of a few big bands kept the
high school through college level Jazz ensembles
filled with material, not to mention providing
solely needed income from publishing rights
to keep the bands afloat. Count Basie's
was one whose charts populated the book
of most music students during the 1970s.
I still remember playing Hayburner in eighth
grade, and yes I played Count's part. Stan
Kenton was one of the other bands whose
arrangements students often found in their
music folders. The Kenton '76 album was
particularly popular in that many of the
compositions were in less common time signatures,
as with Time for a Change, which was written
in 9/4 (metered as 2-2-3-2). The recording
lacks any piano, yet when I played the chart
in band, I was stunned to realize that the
opening chord changes weren't just C major,
but rather C pedal tones. Without Stan playing
the piano, the chord changes had to be inferred
from the horn parts. Yikes!
Al Jarreau and Paul Desmond made two
new recordings in the 1970s of the classic
Take Five and lesser known Take Ten. Each
of these garnered considerable airplay in
their day, even occasionally crossing over
into "less than jazz focused"
playlists. Again, the study of the defiant
5-beat time signatures were great for the
student. Take Ten is metered as (5-5), i.e.
Take Five times 2.
Fusion was king in the 1970s. Despite
its controversial place in the jazz idiom,
some tunes became celebrated even outside
of the confines of the heavily electric
cohort. Birdland was one such tune, and
once covered by Buddy Rich, the chart became
another in the music student's band book.
One of the best, if often overlooked,
big bands of the 1970s was Toshiko Akiyoshi
and Lew Tabackin Big Band. While hard swinging,
the band had a big fat sound and a lot of
creativity in composition and texture. Road
Time Shuffle was another commonly found
chart in the student book, in my case, freshman
year in high school.
We close out with a seemingly uncharacteristic
chart by Richie Cole. New York Afternoon
could well have been made as smooth jazz
pop crossover space filler. However, listening
to this recording it is apparent that this
is an easy going bossa nova but with all
the soul and creative drive of a bebop execution.
If only all "pop" music could
achieve this level of creativity...
The experience of having shared the creative
musical journey at a young age can impact
someone in profound yet subtle ways that
last a lifetime. It's unfortunate that so
few today will ever experience the challenge,
joy, and camaraderie of playing in a jazz
band. Learning from past masters and rediscovering
their stories while crafting something new
and fresh is a rare treat, and something
to be savored.
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