Well, not exactly lost, because Coryell’s 1992 release on CTI, Live from Bahia,is available on Amazon. Larry Coryell (1943-2017) by all accounts seems to have been a very gifted and versatile guitarist. I’m not as much a fan of his fusion as I am of his early Lady Coryell album, his duets with Philip Catherine, and this breezy release of Brazilian-inspired music.
Live from Bahia is very pleasant, with lots of musical interest; however, I don’t agree with those who characterize it as “smooth,” or “soft,” or “mood music.” Those descriptions come close, and not really close. This release is from a time when others in jazz were doing similar things—Pat Metheny had used vocalists to similar effect, and one song has a Miles Davis’ 80s vibe. But Coryell’s sensibility is distinct, Donald Harrison is a surprising and strong contributor, and Billy Cobham lays a solid foundation. Two recommended cuts are Coryell’s “Bloco Loco” and Cobham’s “Panama.”
Here's to Holland!
Dave Holland, that is. The 72-year-old English double bassist has put together one of the strongest careers in the history of the jazz idiom. Certainly, the consistent quality of his work and the breadth of his efforts rank him among the greatest contributors in jazz. And, as it goes, most people outside of jazz fandom have probably never heard of him. His excellence is of the quiet variety, despite his prolific touring and recording.
My first exposure to his art was on Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew (1969.) Next I was captivated by his classic, Conference of the Birds (1972.) I’ve had the pleasure of seeing his quintet live. When I am asked about favorite this or that, I usually respond by doing a quick mental inventory of the recordings I own and count who appears the most. Holland is by far the bassist I have listened to the most . . . and my favorite.
No small wonder
I have admired Bennie Maupin’s Jewel in the Lotus (1974) for over 35 years and return to my vinyl copy when I crave music that is grounding. This example, from a fine jazz musician who may be primarily known for his association with Herbie Hancock during the 1970s, is textural and almost leaderless—with minimal soloing and a collective, ensemble attentiveness foregrounded instead. I was unaware of the music’s origination in rhythms of Buddhist chanting, which I learned in a Pitchfork review.
I also learned of bassist Buster William’s key role in the formation of this music. I shouldn’t be surprised because Williams is a wonderful player who figured prominently on another favorite album from this time, Joe Farrell’s Outback (1971.) On Maupin’s Jewel in the Lotus, I recommend “Ensenada” especially.
Let me like Nina Simone for another reason
Nina Simone (1933-2003) is certainly not an unknown singer. She is well-liked for her singing style, her voice for social issues, and her appeal to things “hip.” And I also really like the way she played piano; she’s somewhere between Horace Silver and Terry Adams in my appreciation. Her piano playing combined a lively and quirky right hand with a soulful left. Her playing is foregrounded on the 1961 Roulette title, At the Village Gate. I recommend “Just in Time” for your playlist, but this title is full of good tunes done well. Dig her playing on “Bye Bye Blackbird,” which is one of my favorite versions of this standard and becomes an all-out rocker.