WOEBOT

Jazz Memoires.

Been slowly going through the select list of stuff that Kirk Degiorgio gave me, tracking down records, appraising them, stroking my chin deliberately, thinking. I've found Donny Hathaway's "Extension of a Man", Linda Lewis's "Lark", Eugene McDaniel's "Headless Heroes of the Apocalypse" (thanks to Luke's extreme generosity), Weldon Irvine's "Spirit Man", and Jon Lucien's "Rashida" None of which are exactly obscure or rare, more kind of "classic" well-rounded LPs in a Jim Clarke stylee (Jim is a connoisseur of the LP form, his round up of 100 British records turned my head in a major fashion). The thing is, I was au fait with 75% of Kirk's Jazz Funk Greats list already, because I have a shady background as a Funk afficionado.

I know! Now he tells us! Just the other day in fact Derek Walmsely was chastising me for saying that the DJ Spooky mix record I reviewed in The Wire (yeah that was OK) was marginally more Cecil Taylor than Horace Silver. But sir, opined Derek, Horace Silver is a genius, dontcha know. I laid my circumspect knowledge on De'ek and he appeared to be satisfied. I DO enjoy Horace Silver, cherish my copy of "Song For My Father" and yes I guess I was being sorta glib. I can appreciate Kirk's depth of respect for the Blue Note label. In the past I've had Wayne Shorter's "Juju", Lee Morgan's "The Sidewinder", Donald Byrd's "A New Perspective", Bill Evan's "Undercurrent" free records by Ornette ("The Empty Foxhole") Cecil ("Conquistador") and Eric Dolphy ("Out to Lunch") as well as (consults Google to refresh memory) Monk's early sides. The Jazz Funk stuff I picked up later than the free stuff, that was accrued largely as a result of slavishly following Lester Bangs's lines of flight, thanks to Lester I have a copy of Archie Shepp's "Fire Music" and Albert Ayler's "Spiritual Unity" which truth be told, don't hit the decks all that often. But we're talking Funk, or Jazz Funk here, and the period when I picked up those more accessible Blue Note records was in the early nineties.

(Stokes his pipe with the finest Golden Virginia, rests the brandy on a small leather-topped mahogany table aside his shabby winged armchair and gazes into the lambent flickering flames of his calor gasfire. A harpist strums descending variations in C)

Jazz Funk was a university thing thing, a student thing. My first year at Glasgow was spent in a state of such insane abstraction it's almost comic. Weighing in at a princely seven stone, dedicated to taking all my course notes in my left hand (naturally right-handed, I thought my mental balance needed correcting, the notes subsequently illegible), wandering around with my right eye shut, wearing either red or green from top to toe and talking to no-one at all. Scary, and I guess my trajectory out of lonely travels through the Third World and experiments with hallucinogenics. Wasn't the counter-culture supposed to be fun? Somewhere along the way, I'd pretty much lost touch with the laughs. That's the thing about dionysian "mob" culture when it involves drugs isn't it? So often the paths lead away from the comfort of the herd at steep tangents.

Come the second year I'd started to fluff out at the edges a bit. Someone told me where the student union was! I visited it a few times! I also found a couple of friends who were interested in records, both of whom were into the Talking Loud strain of Acid Jazz, and dutifully I joined in. It seemed to be more fun than the extremes of noise and nihilism that were my tastes at the time, indeed there were a few amusing cross-over incidents: a DJ in Edinburgh extolling the dancefloor power of Miles Davis's "Rated X" (my eyebrow raised) ditto the appeal of Mahavishnu Orchestra's "Innner Mounting Flame". Then crucially there was the presence of A Tribe Called Quest's "Low End Theory" and Massive Attack's debut. Both the latter two, whilst on the one hand hardcore Hip-Hop (though Jazz inflected that's an extravangaza of rock-hard Bass'n'Drums) and the other a post-Rave lacuna, were also signposts to J_A_Z_Z. The Tribe record especially was seized upon by Gilles Peterson and Patrick Forge as validating their experiment. The first Rebirth Of The Cool compilation featured the cymbolic downbeat mix of "When the Papes Come" (seems to have been subsequently excised) and also Stetsasonic's "Talkin All That Jazz". This early the whole thing seemed like a good idea (I never made it as far as Volume Two), and The Dream Warriors "My Definition (Of A Boombastic Jazz Style)", Gilles Peterson's mix with samples lifted off Quincy Jones even gave it a chart spin. Gang Starr also made an extremely good case for the cause with "Step In the Arena", which along with The Ragga Twins "Reggae owes Me Money" was my soundtrack to Summer '92. At the time I even interviewed the Dream Warriors when they were in Glasgow such was my brimming over with unfocused enthusisasm.

I also interviewed Galliano when they made the trip across the border. You wouldn't find too many apologists for Galliano these days, though I cocked a wry glance when I noticed Simon's enthusiasm for Rob's recent Earl Zinger record. The Galliano interview was a complete debacle (I've mentioned it whilst blogging once before) I managed to completely cock up the huge clunky video camera so that my "technical accomplice" Fraser and I became aware just before the start of the interview that we weren't going to be able to record anything other than _w*h*i*t*e_n*o*i*s*e*_. Such was our intense embarassment that we decided to proceed regardless. The band were surly and defensive and when I (gently) challenged them about the Acid Jazz movement's uncritical omnivorousness, it was meant to be a talking point, ("So Freez are now a Jazz Funk outfit!") Galliano became enraged. At the concert later on he stopped mid set to rail at the audience about the idiotic journalist (cough splutter) who had interviewed them beforehand. A proud moment.

The chief delight of being a Jazz Funk afficionado came in the past treasures one discovered. Billy Cobham's "Spectrum" (caned by Massive Attack), Aaron Neville's "Hercules", The Blackbyrds "Rock Creek Park" and the "Flying Away" LP (both since sold!), Donald Byrd's "Blackbyrd", Johnny Hammond's "Gears" (the last four all Mizell Productions), Hustler's Convention's "Sport", Deodato's "Thus Spoke Zarathusa", Leon Thomas's "Shape Your Mind to Die", Roy Ayer's "We Live in Brooklyn", Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man", Leroy Hutson's "Hutson", Bob James's "Nautilus", Allen Toussaint's "Touissant" and "Southern Nights", everything by The Meters, Gabor Szabo's "The Sorceror", James Brown's "Pass The Peas" and all the People productions, Charles Rouse's "Hopscotch", David Axelrod and Shuggie Otis's records, Chocolate Milk's "Action Speaks Louder Than Words", Al Green's LPs (right up to but not including "The Belle Album") and the Winley Breaks compilations. Just a slew of awesome stuff essentially, and hearing these monsters for the first time was quite a rush. It's strange to see how the same pillaging that collectors of vintage Reggae practise has somehow remained hip, remained current, while the jazzbos are slated for being retrogressive. I guess at the time the main impetus behind the rediscovery of these records was galvanised by Hip-Hop's voraciosness for breaks, indeed if A Tribe Called Quest sampled it, it was usually marked down as instantly desirable. Funny too how one of the prime machines for disemmination of this stuff back in the day, namely Soul Jazz, has subsequently become indelibly associated with the reggae reissue programme.

I guess the sad truth is that very little that was recorded in the name of this music in the UK has stood the test of time. Hand on heart (ha ha) the only records I bought back then by were The Young Disciples, quite easily the cream of the crop. Groupie that I am I was really excited to pass Femi Fem in the hallway of the house he shared with an ex-girlfriend of mine. Aah such naked proximity to the beating heart of Acid Jazz. Their "Road to Freedom" LP was a gem, and I'm gonna find a copy tomorrow if I can. K-Creative, The Brand New Heavies etc etc ALL SHITE. Returning to pick up the thread of this stuff briefly was enjoyable, though in some ways the records I've been hipped too by Kirk, who has travelled much deeper into this territory, all lack what I'd describe as terror. Terror is something you need in music. Funny also to remember, kind of elliptically, that I drove my two Jazz Funk friends completely up the wall by being a paranoid obsessive (ha ha ha).

Posted by Woebot at September 14, 2004 08:56 PM