(Steve Lacy and Mal Waldron, photo by Hugo Peeters)
Jazz music has always been the home of great partnerships. The best of those collaborations find a space where the players can be unrestrained but also serve the music and complement each other. So many incredible partnerships come to mind: Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn, Lester Young and Billie Holiday, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, John Coltrane and his Classic Quartet, and many others are justly celebrated. However, one musical partnership that should get more attention is the collaboration of pianist Mal Waldron and saxophonist Steve Lacy. These two unique musicians first played together in New York in the late 1950s, but the story of their music together began in earnest when they met as expatriates and recorded together, mainly in Europe, from 1971 to 2002. Their collaboration is an ideal balance of unique voices and bold musical affinity. Waldron and Lacy have styles that are contrasting yet complementary, they share a deep musical connection and a personal relationship built around musical goals in common, and they embody essential virtues of collaboration: deep listening, sensitivity, and mutual respect. Unfortunately, these two men are gone; Waldron died in 2002, and Lacy died two years later in 2004. With the new release of a 1995 concert of Waldron and Lacy with the rhythm section of drummer Andrew Cyrille and bassist Reggie Workman, we have the opportunity to take another look at one of the great musical partnerships and appreciate the wisdom and power of the music that Waldron and Lacy created together.
Purchase The Mighty Warriors at Bandcamp
Stream The Mighty Warriors on Apple Music
Stream The Mighty Warriors on Spotify
That new release is called The Mighty Warriors, released by Elemental Music Records on streaming April 26 and as a limited vinyl release for Record Store Day. Links to purchase this album at Bandcamp or stream it are above. The music comes from a September 1995 concert at the De Singel Arts Center in Antwerp, Belgium, where Lacy and Waldron played a program that was part of a series of concerts to celebrate Waldron’s 70th birthday. Although the album is credited to both Waldron and Lacy, it’s clear that Waldron is the leader. Not only was this his birthday concert, but it was Waldron’s band – Workman and Cyrille were his regular rhythm section at the time. The album consists of two discs, each a set played back to back as part of an evening-long concert. One of the joys of this release is that you feel you are there, witnessing a special event. With one exception I’ll discuss below, the band sounds in optimal form, playing tunes by Monk and original compositions from Waldron, Lacy, and Workman.
According to the liner notes, the title for The Mighty Warriors comes from Workman, who, in a play on Mal Waldron’s initials, said he’s a “mighty warrior.” Of course, I’ll defer to the Workman’s assessment – he played with Waldron through the ’80s and ’90s and is likely the most inventive and simpatico bass player to support Waldron’s piano, as this new release ably shows. But I must register my complaint with this title – with music so committed to a personal vision made by people who led lives of creation and dedication to their craft, I’m not enthusiastic about calling Waldron and Lacy “warriors.” Waldron described himself as an “introvert” and was outspoken about the horror of war when he composed White Road/Black Rain Suite for Improvisers to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Hiroshima. Lacy led a humble life of tireless practice, built a unique musical vision and sound world, and created an aesthetic centered on listening and patience. For me, a better title would have been that used in the title track of the duo’s 1971 album, “Journey Without End.” Waldron and Lacy are all about the process of creating art, dedication to craft, and a life lived expanding the boundaries of expression. Let’s look at that journey to create a context for listening to this new album.
Lacy, Waldron, and Monk
I’ve talked about Waldron and Lacy, but not yet about the third musical legend in this story, Thelonious Monk. Monk is the muse who brought Lacy and Waldron together, and Monk’s music is central to their art and lives. Steve Lacy’s fascination with the music of Thelonious Monk is legendary – Lacy talks about his connection to Monk in the incredible book of interviews, Steve Lacy Conversations, edited by Jason Weiss. Lacy says “Monk’s tunes are the ones I most enjoy playing. I like his use of melody, harmony, and especially his rhythm. Monk’s music has profound humanity, disciplined economy, balanced virility, drama, nobility, and innocently exuberant wit.” (Conversions, 13). Monk’s music would become a driving force for Lacy and later for Waldron, too.
Lacy devoted his second album, 1958’s Reflections, exclusively to the compositions of Monk. At the time, Monk’s music was appreciated by only some of the jazz community, and the fame that came to Monk with being signed to Columbia Records and appearing on the cover of Time Magazine was a few years off. Lacy intended Reflections to be a demonstration of the possibilities of Monk’s repertory – even Monk himself only kept a handful of his tunes in his book at the time, and it was then unheard of for others to perform Monk’s compositions. But since the raison d’être of Reflections was to play Monk tunes without Monk, who to use on piano? Lacy chose Mal Waldron. Waldron’s darkly percussive approach to piano is related to Monk but also has a strikingly original way with harmony and repetition. Reflections was an important step in creating recognition of Monk’s genius and also the first sign of the great chemistry between Lacy and Waldron.
From there, Lacy and Waldron’s careers took divergent paths. Lacy formed a Monk-centric group with Roswell Rudd (captured on the Hat Hut album School Days), played on Gil Evans’s first album, and collaborated with the Jazz Composers Orchestra. But when economic opportunities dried up in New York, Lacy relocated to Europe — first to Italy in the mid-60s and eventually to Paris in 1970, where he remained for 30 years. Meanwhile, Waldron’s career went on its own trajectory. Waldron’s playing fit more easily than Lacy’s with the commercially successful hard bop of the late 50s and early 60s, and Waldron became the house pianist for Prestige Records. Waldron’s harmonically centered and rhythmically propulsive piano was perfectly suited to players like Jackie McLean, Gene Ammons, and Charles Mingus. Waldron was also a remarkable accompanist for singers, the most high profile being Billie Holiday’s piano player from April 1957 until Holiday’s death in July 1959.
While Prestige produced commercially successful albums in the jazz mainstream, Waldron also had an ear open to the cutting edge, and he was recorded in one of the hottest rhythm sections of all time on July 16th, 1961. On that day avant garde visionaries Eric Dolphy and Booker Little made legendary live recordings at the Five Spot club with Waldron on piano, Ed Blackwell on drums, and Richard Davis on bass. One thing I love about the Dolphy-Little Five Spot recordings is that after the blazing horn solos, the music coalesces around Waldron, who (while battling the Five Spots’ infamously out-of-tune piano) builds incredible edifices of propulsive piano vamping. Waldron’s Five Spot solos on “Bee Vamp” and “Lotsa Potsa” use strong rhythmically based left-hand lines embellished with right-hand vamps that move up and down over the bassline. It’s a firmly tonal style with hard bop roots, but gets its edge from incessant driving repetition that’s never boring because Waldron makes constant adjustments and embellishments to the vamps. In an essay on Waldron, Ethan Iverson memorably calls this repetitive, intense style “banging his rocks,” an image that I love. Through grinding session work and the caldron of live playing at clubs like the Five Spot, Waldron developed one of the most recognizable piano styles in music.
Then the music almost stopped for Waldron – in 1963, he suffered a nervous breakdown as a result of a heroin overdose and only luckily survived. In a 2001 Interview with Ted Pankin, Waldron said of his breakdown: “I couldn’t remember where I was. I couldn’t remember anything-about the piano or anything else. I lost my coordination, and my hands were shaking all the time.” Waldron had to convalesce for months in a hospital, and his medical condition was so severe that he could no longer play the piano, which he had to re-learn — by listening to recordings of himself! After recovering, he was offered the chance to record in Paris, and he got a one-way ticket and never returned to live in the United States. In the interview with Pankin, Waldron states that he remained an expatriate in Europe because he was treated with respect there, which he contrasted with the racism and poor working conditions for musicians in the United States. We must not forget how bad the past was for the oppressed – and always be mindful of how close we still are to that past now.
Waldron’s recordings in Europe (such as 1969’s Free at Last, the recording that started the ECM label) show that after Waldron’s health crisis and relocation to Europe, he developed into an even more fiery and individualistic version of himself and boiled down his style to its essential and definitive elements. Waldron removed unnecessary ornaments from his playing, taking out superfluous complexity, and developed “rhythmically instead of soloing on chord changes,” as Waldron wrote in the liner notes to Free At Last. Waldron’s touch was even more recognizable, and his commitment to repetition in his playing was even more hypnotic.
The Journey Continues – Waldron and Lacy in the 1970s
This is where Waldron and Lacy’s stories come back together. On November 30, 1971, Waldron and Lacy recorded again in a Paris studio, creating the album Journey Without End. Unfortunately, this vital recording has never been reissued in any format and has been out of print for decades. As of this writing, you can still download a vinyl rip of it from the blog inconstant sol. Another album begging for a reissue! At any rate, on Journey Without End, you can immediately hear why Waldron and Lacy gravitated toward each other. The album is credited to both as co-leaders; side A is all Waldron tunes, and side B is all Lacy. Lacy’s sax sounds fluid and at ease, and you can really appreciate his beautifully fast vibrato and shining tone. Journey Without End also has some great compositions — the title track is built over an earthy bass figure, and Waldron and Lacy both deliver probing solos. On side B, Lacy introduces the tune “Bone,” an important Lacy composition that later became the centerpiece of his Tao Suite. The iconic album cover photo above captures it all. Pictured are two fellow travelers: Waldron and Lacy pose in front of a narrow passageway, smokes in hand (a habit Waldron never gave up; a dangling cigarillo is a constant companion in almost every Waldron photo). Waldron looks incredibly debonaire and photogenic, and Lacy is humble but really hip, too. You can see in this picture that these two men are so different but share a connection and a common passion.
Waldron and Lacy must have felt their alchemy because they were back in the studio the following year for the wild Mal Waldron with the Steve Lacy Quintet. Waldron is pictured on the cover and credited as the leader, but that’s not what I hear in the grooves. This is the one Waldron/Lacy album where Lacy chose the band, and he showed up with his crew – wife Irene Aebi on cello, saxophonist Steve Potts, and bassist Kent Carter. Maybe America Records didn’t pay the band because Lacy and his players sound positively angry! Even most “free jazz” records are more programmatic than the rabid music Lacy’s players unleash. To my ears, Waldron’s more tonal style sounds a little out of step with the music on this release, yet strangely his authoritative sound and emotional power build their own center of gravity, too. The palpable friction creates one of the most remarkable listening experiences in jazz music, especially on “Jump for Victor,” where Waldron solos with his trademark vamping amidst the onslaught. I could write much more about this fantastic and somewhat anomalous date – it will be the subject of a future post!
Waldron must have enjoyed the aural chaos of the America date because he named it one of his five favorites from his albums in the 2001 Pankin interview. Waldron and Lacy continued to collaborate through the 1970s, with all the issued recordings being with Waldron’s band. Hard Talk (1974), One-Upmanship (1977), and Moods (1978) are Waldron leader dates with Lacy, with either Makaya Ntshoko or Allen Blairman on drums, Isla Eckinger, Jimmy Woode or Cameron Brown on bass, and Manfred Schoop or Terumasa Hino on trumpet. All these records were released on the German ENJA label, and each has its charms and is a classic in its way. Hard Talk is a crackling live date where Blairman gives a rock feel on his tom-toms, and Waldron, Lacy, and trumpeter Schoof sound particularly energized. On One-Upmanship, Lacy’s tone and power are incredible; his sax playing over Waldron’s dirge “The Seagulls Of Kristiansund” is some of the most moving music I’ve heard. Moods mixes an international cast of musicians with Waldron solo tracks, placing the emotional impact of Waldron’s piano front and center. Waldron and Lacy hit a groove across the 1970s of building resonant and impactful music that shows each of them to great effect. With each of these records, their collaboration feels like they are building toward something.
The Duets and the Return of Monk
The playing of Waldron and Lacy through the 1970s focuses on original compositions, some of them stone-cold classics like Waldron’s “Snake Out” or “The Seagulls Of Kristiansund.” I don’t know who planted the seed, but a significant change was about to take root: the return of Monk’s compositions to the Waldron/Lacy discography, which they had not recorded together since Lacy’s 1958 leader date. If I’m going to speculate, it must be Lacy who instigated the change. Lacy had a deep relationship with Monk’s music, and he started playing Monk again in the 70s after several years of focusing on his own compositions (for evidence of the change see the Monk program on Eronel, a 1978 record in the Italian Horo label). Also, Lacy pursued a compositional style that iterates on Monk’s compression and mercurial wit – Monk’s music is always central to Lacy’s concept. Whatever the reason, Waldron and Lacy gathered together in August 1981 at the Dreher club in Paris and, over four nights, made live recordings that balanced equal parts Monk’s compositions with originals by Lacy and Waldron. From that point on, Monk tunes are a prominent part of the discographies of both men.
The 1981 Dreher records also bring another sea change to the Waldron/Lacy joint discography – these recordings are just the two musicians, no rhythm section. Almost all of their subsequent joint recordings for the next 20 years were in a duo format. What’s the reason? I’m not convinced the 1970s rhythm sections did justice to their music, and Waldron and Lacy may have realized they preferred playing without other band members getting in the way. Both players have very strong rhythm and organized ideas, and you never miss the drummer. While handling the logistics of leading a band (and getting the band paid) might have been a factor, the perfection of the Waldron/lacy duets argues that they realized this was the ideal format for the music they needed to make.
For proof of their potent new concept, the place to go is the 2003 Hat Hut four CD release, Mal Waldron And Steve Lacy Live At Dreher Paris 1981. This epochal four-and-a-half hours of live music is mercifully available on streaming services. If there’s one thing you take from this essay, please go to either Apple Music or Spotify and dip into the mother lode. Waldron and Lacy are on fire, and the music is revelatory. They cover essential Monk repertory such as “Round Midnight, “Epistrophy,” ‘Well You Needn’t,” and their personal Monk talisman, “Let’s Call This.” They also give definitive readings of Waldron and Lacy’s compositions, such as Waldron’s “Hooray for Herbie” and “The Seagulls Of Kristiansund,” and Lacy’s tunes like “No Baby” and “Bone.” The unflagging invention, energy, and simpatico camaraderie are the height of artistic creation. I could go on, but I’ll let you listen instead. If I had to take one record to the proverbial desert island, for me, this may be it.
Waldron and Lacy continued to lean into their muse in the duo format, and were just getting started. The recording from 1982 at Amsterdam’s Bimhuis released in 2006 as Steve Lacy & Mal Waldron – At The Bimhuis may be even better than the Hat Hut recordings due to its conciseness. Lacy’s “Blues For Aida” is spooky and mesmerizing and with this version of “Snake Out,” Waldron’s trademark vamping morphs into a stunning gospel-tinged rave-up. On “Reflections” Lacy delivers a solo of aching beauty. Also recommended from the trove of duets is the deep and mellow exploration of Duke’s music on 1986’s Sempre Amore, and the excursion into the music of Herbie Nichols on Hot House (1990). There are a lot of Waldron/Lacy duo records (see the discography below), and they’re all great. With the Waldron/Lacy duets, two musicians who are outstanding individually join together to form music that is elevated to an extraordinary level.
Waldron and Lacy and the Band
Before the release of the new album The Mighty Warriors, there were a dozen officially released albums of music performed by Waldron and Lacy together from 1981 onward, and all but one had no drummer. Only The Super Quartet of Mal Waldron featuring Steve Lacy, released in 1987, reveals Waldron and Lacy in a quartet format, with Reggie Workman on bass and Eddie Moore on drums. So the newly released The Mighty Warriors provides a needed look at Waldron and Lacy performing with bass and drums. And with no ordinary bassist and drummer! Reggie Workman had played with Waldron for years at the time of this concert, starting with the record with Up Popped the Devil from 1973. Waldron’s working group with Workman and Ed Blackwell is one of the most potent of the 1980s, which Ethan Iverson celebrates in his fascinating post on Waldron that I mentioned above. Andrew Cyrille was a more recent associate for Waldron, but the Waldron/Blackwell/Cyrille rhythm section worked a lot together for years before this concert and is captured together by the Waldron release Soul Eyes (1997). So getting to hear Waldron and Lacy with a rhythm section – and this rhythm section – alone justifies The Mighty Warriors coming out – it’s an absolute pleasure to hear these musicians together. So, let’s talk about this new release.
The evening’s music is captured over two discs. The first disc consists of two Monk tunes (“Epistrophy” and “Blue Monk”) and a composition each by Waldron and Lacy – “What It Is” and “Longing,” respectively. The sound quality of the recording is quite excellent, although the mics are back from the stage and maybe toward the drums; you may want to turn the volume up to hear everything. While the music is adventurous, attention to melody abounds. At this point in his career, Lacy had dispensed with much of the exploration of noise and extended techniques that once were the center of his playing. His solos on Waldron’s “What It Is” and the two Monk tunes are constructed of motivic patterns that the listener can easily grasp. Waldron sounds both relaxed and in very good form – on “What It Is,” he uses his unique technique of building a solo around rhythmic blocks, but without the breathless rush that characterizes many of his solos. Here, the more relaxed pace allows you to appreciate the beauty of his melodic development and his incredible sound. The rhythm section is seamless and subtly inventive – listen closely. Workman’s bass playing is constantly probing, an interesting counterpoint to Lacy and Waldron. Cyrille elevates the whole concert—the sound of his cymbals mesmerizes, his time is slippery and enchanting, and his solos, such as on “What It is,” are dynamic and exciting. Cyrille has a great ability to make the drums trace the melody as he plays through the tune’s structure. Amazing stuff.
The two Monk covers are surely the highlights of the first disc – at this point after a lifetime with Monk’s music, Waldron and Lacy were definitive interpreters. This version of “Epistrophy” glides effortlessly through the tricky structure of the tune, perfectly capturing the intensity of the iconic baseline and the jaunty chromaticism of the melody. The disc one closer, “Blue Monk,” is even better. Waldron and Lacy take the tune at a stately pace and build an interesting piano counterpoint into the arrangement of the tune. Waldron’s solo on “Blue Monk” is a great example of how his famous sense of humor off the bandstand sometimes peeks out in his playing – amidst the dark, intense clusters of his melodic solo, he quotes “Oh! Susanna.” The audience audibly loved it.
Lacy’s one tune presented in the concert, “Longing,” is the only misstep of the night. The title “Longing” is, among many other things, a witty pun – it’s a long-form composition (42 bars) and takes almost two minutes to play the head in this performance. The composition is a melodic haiku and it’s classic Lacy, but needs patience from players and listeners alike. I believe Waldron, Workman, and Cyrille were all new to “Longing” and they sound a bit tentative here (see the documentary A Portrait of Mal Waldron, which I discuss below; at 16 minutes you’ll see Lacy teaching the tune to the band, seemingly for the first time, at the rehearsal before the concert). Also, the distanced mics don’t do the performers any favors on this spare composition, and tracing the form at this slow tempo, especially during Workman’s bass solo, feels challenging. “Longing” is a remarkable composition – please check out the definitive interpretation on Lacy’s album Bye-Ya with his close associates John Betsch and Jean-Jacques Avenel, or the amazing unreleased version that I talk about in the notes below.
Chalk it up to this blog’s preference for experimental music, but the more avant-garde second disc seems more assured and inspired to me. This is especially true of the almost 25-minute performance on Reggie Workman’s “Variation of III.” The whole band is energized in the second disc, and their ideas, individually and collectively, are intensely creative. “Variation of III” starts with a playful collective rumination that sounds like an orchestra tuning up. Workman delivers an arco bass statement, then switches to pizzicato, and then the center of the music switches to Lacy. Lacy seems to relish the open form of this tune, and from 4:00 to 9:00, he plays with a quizzical, probing tone, deft use of space, and abstract but clear ideas that characterize his best work. Cyrille accompanies sparingly, but it’s all Lacy in top form for five glorious minutes. There’s nobody like him, and if this is your introduction, diving into the rest of his discography is one of life’s great joys.
At 9:00, the performance shifts gears, and Workman delivers a fleet and nuanced solo statement. At 13:00, we hear from Waldron again, who plays rubato chords that move up and down the keyboard, sounding like a race car driver waiting for the flag to drop. Then Cyrille’s ride cymbal winds the music up, dramatically shifting the energy, and Waldron’s playing develops into his trademark two-hand rhythmic structures. The injection of Waldron’s piano energy calls back to his playing at the Five Spot from 34 years earlier, with Waldron stealing back the center of the music and “banging his rocks,” to use Ethan Iverson’s phrase, all over again. I love this! When Waldron goes to this place, nobody has a more robust musical vision, and the stage becomes his. That’s only half of the 25 minutes of this performance – then Lacy returns with a focused solo while Waldron develops more stimulating ideas, Workman pushes it all along, and then we get a simmering drum solo. Suddenly, the band plays what sounds like the head – but for the first time at the end of the song! Have we been listening to a deconstructed version of the tune all this time, or is this “out chorus” a marvelous bit of group improvisation? With players this confident, I can’t really tell. “Variation of III” is a keeper and the highlight of the evening.
Then the group wraps up the night with their surefire burner – Waldron’s definitive rave-up “Snake Out.” “Snake Out” is a really a blowing vehicle, and Lacy delivers the first solo with brisling ideas over Waldron’s assertive comping. Most Waldron/Lacy versions of “Snake Out” then plunge into a Waldron solo, but here he dramatically lays back, and by turns, Workman and Cyrille deliver lengthy and interesting statements over the song form. When it’s Waldron’s turn, he delivers a knockout surprise by interjecting another song altogether – his emotional tribute to Cecil Taylor which he first recorded on 1987’s Update, “Variations On A Theme By Cecil Taylor.” I’m not sure this performance rises to the incredible levels of that recording, but the drama of the live performance more than makes up for any nitpicking I can throw its way. The setting is suitably dramatic, and it’s a satisfying end to the performance when the band returns to the thundering chords of “Snake Out” to play the out chorus and end the evening of music. The lore about audience reactions in continental Europe is that they tend to be politely restrained, but even so, you can hear the crowd break into the waves of applause – was there an encore? I don’t know, but I’m glad we have this new document of a memorable night of music from the sunset of Waldron and Lacy’s careers.
While they both went on to individually record worthy albums after this event, The Mighty Warriors is now the penultimate officially released recording of these two men together. They made one last record together, One Last Time, recorded in 2002 and released before Waldron’s death in December 2002. Lacy died from cancer only two years after that. Waldron and Lacy left enormous legacies on their instruments and their compositions, as well as their approach to music, improvisation, and collaboration. Their discographies are each huge and immensely rewarding, and the processes of discovery and rediscovery continue to reveal how much power this music provides to us, years after its creation. The Mighty Warriors gives us a chance to look back and appreciate the depth and greatness of what Waldron and Lacy did together and to understand how they changed music. Their music offers approaches and solutions that have not been fully explored by today’s practitioners and offers a wealth of wisdom and beauty for the ages. As Andrew Cyrille says in the album’s liner notes about Waldron, these musicians are “points of light.” That light lives on in the music; when you listen, the journey continues.
Links to explore more Waldron and Lacy
Here is the Waldron/Lacy Joint Discography!
In preparation for this post, I tried to find a discography online that included all of the known recordings of Waldron and Lacy together, and I could not find one source that covered it all. So, to remedy this problem, I created a Mal Waldron and Steve Lacy joint discography. I hope this is a resource that will lead to your discovery of Waldron and Lacy’s music and that you’ll find it helpful. I’m still reviewing and looking for errors, corrections, or additions, so please, if you have suggestions, leave a comment so I can make this better.
The Joys of the Discographer
In the past, I’ve been a listener who only spent a little time with discographies (excepting those in Mosaic boxes, R.I.P. Michael Cuscuna), and the discography linked above is my first stab at compiling one. Putting this information together was critical to my understanding of the arc of Waldron’s and Lacy’s music and reinforced for me the importance of understanding the chronology of an artist’s work. Also, studying the details of the Waldron-Lacy discography uncovered some interesting mysteries for me. The biggest discovery concerns the epochal 1981 Dreher duets. The releases are really confusing, owing to Hat Hut having issued this music over five albums prior to the 2003 four-CD set (hatOLOGY 4-596). However, I was under the impression that hatOLOGY 4-596 put everything out, and since that’s the only one of the Dreher releases I have access to, I thought I had all the music from these four nights from 1981 in Paris. However, I discovered that the liner notes to the long out-of-print 1986 LP Mal Waldron And Steve Lacy – Let’s Call This state that the album’s performance of “Epistrophy” is a trio with the addition of trumpet player Erico Rava. Here are the credits and liner notes on the back cover:
I don’t own the 1986 LP Let’s Call This, but listening to both versions of “Epistrophy” on hatOLOGY 4-596, there’s no trumpet to be heard! At least to my ears, it seems the 2003 release did not reissue the “Epistrophy” with Rava, contrary to existing discographical information. This is a mystery that I will be digging into. I would like to hear the version of “Epistrophy” with Rava, and I’ll try and track down an affordable copy of the 1986 LP. Further, this discrepancy suggests there may be more music to hear from Waldron and Lacy’s four nights of performances, which, given the caliber of what we have, would be incredible. I’ve already emailed Hat Hut, and I’ll report my findings here when I get to the bottom of this.
Calling the Jazz Detective – Release the 1990 Bimhuis set next!
The Mighty Warriors is a great release that increases our understanding of one of music’s most important musical partnerships. However, listeners of WKCR’s program Deep Focus may know there is an unreleased recording featuring the musicians on The Mighty Warriors, plus trombonist Roswell Rudd and trumpeter Enrico Rava. This sextet was captured in a live performance on February 27, 2000, at Bimhuis in Amsterdam. You can hear the whole performance on the three-hour-long Deep Focus broadcast and also dig excellent commentary by saxophonist Phillip Johnson and host Mitch Goldman. It’s archived in three parts: part 1, part 2 and part 3. This exceptional recording frankly sounds even better than The Mighty Warriors. The whole band is in great form and is focused and energetic over ten tunes – eight by Monk and one each by Waldron and Lacy. Interestingly, the Lacy tune is the same one they play on The Mighty Warriors , “Longing.” I said above, the band sounds underrehearsed on the 1995 Antwerp date, but by 2000 at Bimhuis, Waldron, Workman and Cyrille sound really tight. The addition of an incredible-sounding Roswell Rudd and an exuberant trumpet from Rava does not hurt, either. The Bimhous “Longing” captures the patient, loping melody and the menacing undertone of the composition beautifully. Another extraordinary part of the Bimhaus performance is the boisterous approach to Monk, which reaches its apex on the out-choruses of “Monk’s Mood” and “Bemsha Swing,” where the band morphs into Dixieland with joyous collective improvisation. The Mighty Warriors is a great start, but the 2000 Bimhuis is the next step — this recording needs to be released!
A Great Documentary about Waldron
As part of my preparation for this post, I watched an excellent documentary, A Portrait of Mal Waldron. You can really appreciate the wit and character of Waldron, understand his music better, and learn a lot about him. Also, this doc is a great companion to the music of The Mighty Warriors because it includes extensive interviews with all of the band members, apparently made the same week as this concert. A revelation from the documentary is that at 10:30 to 12:30, and again under the closing credits, there is video from the same concert documented in The Mighty Warriors. If this concert can be released with both the video and audio of that night, that would be something to celebrate!
Waldron/Lacy Gold on YouTube
Another discovery I made while researching this piece was a YouTube video archive called “Vintage Music Experience.” One of the Waldron/Lacy recordings archived there is of an August 29, 1986, FM broadcast of a tentet playing Monk. The band is billed as “Thelonious Monk Orchestra Reunion” and has a legit relationship with Monk – Ben Riley is the drummer, and Charlie Rouse is the principal soloist. The music is joyous, and both Lacy and Waldron sound great here. Every major city should fill its bandshells and public spaces with free Monk performances! It’s fantastic to find these gems on YouTube, curated by passionate music lovers who want the great message of this music to get out.
Check out Snake Out, the Mal Waldron Blog
I also discovered an exceptional blog devoted to Mal Waldron’s music – Snake Out. At Snake Out, you’ll find reviews of every one of Waldron’s official releases, along with very knowledgeable annotations and interviews with filmmaker Tom van Overberghe and bassist David Friesen about Waldron. The passion for Waldron’s music jumps out on every page – it’s a great way to get to know and appreciate Mal Waldron’s artistry better.
Read Ethan Iverson’s “On Mal Waldron”
I remember reading Iverson’s piece about Mal Waldron on the old Do The Math blog when he published it in 2010. You can find Iverson’s essay here. A lot of my listening to the great pianist was inspired by reading “On Mal Waldron.” Returning to Iverson’s piece to prepare this essay, I found it’s shorter than I remember (about 2,000 words) but just as insightful. Iverson’s description of Waldron’s style as “banging rocks” and dubbing Waldron/Workman/Blackwell as the “evil trio” are irreverent but terrific. Also, Iverson makes sure you know where his heart is when he admits, “I owe one hell of a lot to Mal Waldron.”
