Thursday, December 21, 2017


Taking Off, Edith Lettner’s Freemotion (ArtDialogue, 2017)

Edith Lettner- alto and soprano saxophones
Gerhard Franz Buchegger- piano keyboard
Gerhard Graml- upright and electric basses
Stephan Brodsky- drums, percussion

CD review by John Pietaro

Edith Lettner’s music is worthy of a smoke-filled room lost to another age. The saxophonist has been casting her vision of creative music throughout Europe and during frequent, regular trips to New York City for years, tangling horns with some of the best improvisers on both continents, always proving herself as utterly unique, thoroughly gifted. Lettner’s strange and beautiful alto and soprano saxophones offer a vibrato that speaks to jazz of the 1920s and early 30s over a language strictly post-1960. Herein, Bechet swirls through Trane and Dolphy, doubles back to Yellow Nunez, Johnny Dodds and Pee Wee Russell, and then cries and barks like Ornette, moody, drifting, swinging, funky odd-time signatures, sometimes all in one piece. The effect is haunting. And Lettner’s use of modal works stream from her roots in Austria, ancient Germanic motifs concurrently lamentative and joyous.

The album cover of Taking Off is adorned with a raven contemplating flight, and the contents within, like Poe’s raven, are watchful, learned, meditative, melodic and tossed stoically amidst instrumental verse, at once heralding, repetitive and compelling. 

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Essay: IKUE MORI: Outside Under Ground

"NYC Jazz Record", December 2017, cover story

Ikue Mori: Outsider Under Ground
By John Pietaro

In 1977 a New York-bound flight from Tokyo carried a youthful Ikue Mori to more than just a new city. Mori was fulfilling a promise she’d made to herself as a restless art student back home, seeking a new life. But the awakening was far wider than expected. Priced out of her initial destination of the West Village, Mori found herself on the Lower East Side just in time for the turbulence of punk rock, downtown experimentation and the boil-over of urban decay.  ‘Fun city’ in the throes of bankruptcy and unrest. “It could be grim”, she explained, “but it was New York, where I’d wanted to be for years. I always felt I was in a foreign country when I was in Japan”. Needing no time to adjust to her new surroundings, Mori found a flat and immersed herself in the confluence of culture and change. “No one wanted to live here at the time, so it was easy to find a cheap place near everything. I still live in that same apartment today”.
Mori was immediately drawn to the whirlwind of music about her. “On my first night in New York, a friend got us tickets to see David Bowie and Iggy Pop at the Palladium” she recalled enthusiastically. “What a gift!” She became a fixture in the city’s still new underground nightlife then focused at CBGB and Max’s Kansas City, hosts of the punk movement’s formative years. “I had been listening to Jimi Hendrix and the Doors in Japan, but suddenly I was exposed to these new sounds. I loved Television”, she added, referring to the indie rock quartet which featured Ayler-influenced lead guitarists and guttural vocals echoing the streets.
But it wasn’t all rock music. This underground creative tapestry embraced edgy free jazz, expansive visual and performance art, and radical poetry and film, all made anew within the urgent cross-fertilization downtown. Under the banner of what would soon be titled ‘no wave’ culture, artists of each discipline forayed into the next. “One night I saw a performance of (alto saxophonist) James Chance with (poet/guitarist) Lydia Lunch”, Mori explained. “After a friend of mine joined their band Teenage Jesus, I began attending rehearsals and got to meet others on the scene. I met Arto (Lindsay, guitarist/vocalist) and Robin (Crutchfield, organist/vocalist) along with some people from the band Mars. They were all jamming at the studio and asked me to join in” Out of need more than interest, she moved to the drumset in the back of the room. And suddenly, she was playing. “That night, I picked up drums for the first time in my life”. Mori soon found herself at the center of a brand new happening, a reimagining of established rules and mores. “Arto and Robin asked me to join their new band, DNA. Everyone was looking for something new. We weren’t talking about technique then. It was being in the right place. I was surrounded by rock musicians in Tokyo but never thought I could be in a band. It was a discouraging imbalance, especially in the rock world at the time. Especially for a woman drummer. But in New York, 1977, all kinds of outsiders were getting together. I wasn’t trying to play like anyone else and Arto wasn’t either. I was very tom-tom heavy in the beginning –there must’ve been an influence from Japanese taiko drumming”
DNA sported layers of “noise” with musical structures inspired by Arto Lindsay’s heritage in Brazil and Mori’s Japanese culture. After purchasing a 5-piece Ludwig drumkit for $100. from Anton Fier of the Lounge Lizards, later Golden Palominos, Mori and the band created a repertoire of carefully arranged pieces that would come to define the no wave genre. DNA was one of four downtown ensembles chosen for the Brian Eno-produced “No New York” album (1978) which has since become legendary. It was the drummer’s initial experience in a recording studio, but her primary recollection of it was Eno’s length of time spent trying to get the perfect bass drum sound. “He never said much”, she recalled, we just played and got out. The recording didn’t do us justice. It was a hard thing to capture”. Still, “No New York” was seen as shocking to many listeners. In its brash radicalism, the album gave license to musical experimentalists who’d come to the avant garde by way of punk culture, not post-modern classical music or jazz; more than a few of the recording artists had no history as musicians. Critics were polarized and the album was even beleaguered by other no wave progenitors who’d been overlooked by Eno. Listening to DNA’s segments on the album, one hears the breathless rush of the city in darkness, an urgency embodied in Mori’s throbbing pulsations, unexpected tacits, stirring accents and driving patterns woven through Lindsay’s pained vocals. The band went on to record a further single and an EP, but, again, Mori stated the essence of the band was elusive. “None of the recordings actually sound the way we did live”. With a final 1983 gig at CBGB, the trio’s members went their separate ways, though Lindsay was included in some of the drummer’s later endeavors.
Almost immediately after the dissolution of DNA, Mori began work with John Zorn, the ubiquitous saxophonist/improviser/composer. “It was totally new playing experience for me”, she recalled. “DNA may have sounded free, but the songs were played the same way every time. The improvising music scene was eye-opening, mind-blowing. John was such an influence, not only his playing but his organization of concerts. And all of those revolutionary musicians like (percussionist) Cyro Baptista, (guitarist) Fred Frith, (cellist) Tom Kora and (guitarist and improvisation music theorist) Derek Bailey. Just listening to Derek is amazing. Amazing. He was such a beautiful musician”. Mori’s place in the Zorn cadre saw her inclusion in noted album “Locus Solis” (1983) and a wide array of others led by the saxophonist. He also signed her to his Tzadik record label for which she went on to record numerous CDs.
The outgrowth of her musical expanse brought Mori not deeper into the sphere of drumming but into that of electronics. Early experimentation with an inexpensive Casio drum machine alongside her drum kit developed as the medium itself grew. “My very first experience with drum machine programming in a recording was the "Mumbo Jumbo" album by Jim Staley. It was a trio with Bill Frisell”. For that project, Mori attempted to take the machine out of the repetition mode it was known for and have it reflect more of the playing she’d been doing on the drumset. “But the drum machine then was still very limited, so I needed to play some drums with it. With time, I began adding more drum machine and less drums. By the end of 1990 I was playing three drum machines with multi effects through a mixer and no actual drums”. Within a decade, the full spectrum changed as Mori began using a laptop computer toward a limitless sound palette. “With the laptop, I can assign sounds to each key-pad and actually play it as a tuned instrument, not just one of drum sounds”.
Over the course of 15 albums as a leader since 1995, and a seemingly endless list of work in the projects of other musicians, Mori’s use of digital sounds has taken on a new level of musicality; many collaborators now call on her almost exclusively to play in this realm. When asked if electronics had fully eclipsed the drumset, Mori clarified: “No, that chapter is really not over, but it’s infrequent. I played drums again--alongside my laptop--when (bassist) Kim Gordon asked me to play with Body Head a few years ago. I also played drums in Yoshimi O’s twin drum project, but it’s not a focus for me”.
Mori’s resume also includes time spent with Butch Morris, Dave Douglas, Erik Friedlander, Ensemble Modern and Zorn’s Electric Masada in addition to a duo with harpist Zeena Parkins, and the acoustic-electronic trio with pianist Sylvie Courvoisier and percussionist Susie Ibarra, Mephista. And within all of this technology, Mori rediscovered her first means of artistic expression. “My earlier interest of creating hand-made materials has come back after all those years of using digital-only processing in my visual art projects. Playing drums was also part of those interests. Drumming allowed me to add physical aspects to performance”. 
This year Mori released a pair of albums for which she’s been tirelessly touring. Finally back in New York, she’s preparing for a weekend of concerts at the New School (December 15 and 16) featuring Craig Taiborn, Christian Wolff, Joey Barron and a special guest she was not at liberty to disclose at press time. By the time this paper hits the clubs, Mori should just about be coming down from the high of her November residency at the Stone, one which boasts downtown history in its line-up. Mori simply describes her week at Zorn’s space as “one big improvising party with a lot of old friends”. With the passage of time, the avant becomes the norm and the East Village sports luxury living. With a vengeance, the denizens of the underground no longer languish on the outside.


"NYC Jazz Record" November, 2017

Directed and produced by Barbara McCullough

Film review by John Pietaro

Horace Tapscott may be one of the music’s best kept secrets. Coming of age in an LA far removed from the “cool” West Coast of Lennie Tristano and Lee Konitz, the pianist/composer forged an ethnically-identified, politically fearless vision. His leadership cast a post-modern genre that foresaw much of jazz’ avant garde as well as its infusion into Black Liberation. By the late ‘60s, Tapscott’s Pan-African People's Arkestra served as the house band for the Black Panther Party. The late Will Connell, many years Tapscott’s music librarian, in later discussions with anyone who’d listen, championed the scope of the Union of God's Musicians and Artists' Ascension, the leader’s educational foundry of 1961. Tapscott’s was an art of pride and legacy; it’s no small irony that bold activism led to a career shredded by blacklisting.

Barbara McCullough’s documentary focuses on Tapscott the inspiration as much as the musician. Culled together from interview and concert footage shot over a 25-year period, the tale of this woefully under-recognized artist comes to light; the filmmaker’s is the silent voice as Tapscott tells his own story over decades. Sections of the film stem from a lecture the pianist gave in the 1990s, interspersed with discussion segments between Tapscott, journalist Greg Tate, poet K. Curtis Lyle, Don Cherry and Dr. Samuel Browne, the legendary music teacher at LA’s Jefferson High School who mentored Dexter Gordon, Chico Hamilton and a phalanx of others including Tapscott. The concept of guiding the next generation was ingrained into the pianist early on: “My responsibility primarily was preservation of the art. The Black arts in particular. Something had to be done so you can touch and feel it….”
Tapscott’s vision into the next stage the music would take, including large ensemble free improvisation and multi-disciplinary collaborations, is evident. And his Underground Musicians Association, a heartily experimental aggregation, pioneered the later DIY concept. Of this indie effort, Tapscott stated: “We called it garage music: the kind of thing you only play for yourselves. The police came and stopped us, said we were getting the people worked up”. Appropriately, the radicalism inherent in both Tapscott’s mentorship and performances are established herein. He stated: “The music changed behind the bombing of the church in Alabama. We started playing music by Black composers. It helped free our people. This hooked us up with the Black Panthers, Angela Davis, H Rapp Brown…and the FBI and CIA”.
Considering the resurgence in revolutionary philosophy, Horace Tapscott’s music—now free of Cold War shackles--may finally be having its day.

Wednesday, October 11, 2017


New children’s book tells story of giving, proclaims union justice

Good Guy Jake/Buen Chico Jake, Hardball Press

Book review by John Pietaro

“Good Guy Jake”/“Buen Chico Jake” Written by Mark Torres; Illustrations by Yana Murashko; Translation by Madelin Arroyo Romero (Hardball Press, 2017
Hardball Press is an independent publisher founded by writer and union activist Tim Sheard which specializes in books with humanitarian, pro-labor messages. Eighth in Hardball’s series of children’s books is “Good Guy Jake”/ “Buen Chico Jake”, just in time for the holiday season. Here’s the tale of a New York City Sanitation Worker who collects discarded toys from the trash in order to repair them and bring them to needy children living in a shelter. Like all of Hardball’s releases, “Jake” is a story told bilingually, with Spanish language translations of each English language paragraph, hence, this volume could be the perfect gift for the young child in your life who speaks either language. More so, the Hardball Press catalog, thoughtfully translated, is an excellent means to introduce children to the other language.

The rich, colorful artwork is another standard Hardball has set high, and another example of how the publisher always hit the mark. “Jake” is no exception: the characters, circumstances and backgrounds are appealing if not a little compelling to the eye. Of course, the concept of multi-culturalism is a staple of each book and even the casual reader notes the details of skin tone, dress and hairstyle appropriate to a character’s culture. And while each release thus far has included strong pro-worker statements of unity within a carefully spun plot, this latest volume takes this concept to the next step. In the book Sanitation Worker Jake is fired from his job for taking the discarded toys in the trash, a violation of city regulations. The author brings in the reality of the grievance process, right up to arbitration. The hearing is held a week before Christmas and Jake’s character witnesses include many of the children he’s brought refurbished toys to as well as their parents, testifying to the difference Jake has made in their lives. This peek into the often grueling struggle between union and management is not only unique to children’s literature, but something rarely seen in novels for any age reader. For parents who suffer the indignity of wrongful discipline or termination from a job and are awaiting arbitration, “Good Guy Jake”/“Buen Chico Jake” is a powerful tool to allow children to understand what’s happening as much as it continues the message of giving to others.

Hardball Press books are available directly from the company’s website or via Amazon and—best of all—via indie bookstores everywhere.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Two-CD review/essay: MUSIC AS A WEAPON


Recent releases in the US shout down hate

By John Pietaro

"The Short-Finger Vulgarian" himself
In what feels like an eternity to most Americans, Donald Trump’s reign is now in its eighth month. One productive outcome of this administration is the revival of progressive activism in opposition to it. The movements around Occupy Wall Street, Black Lives Matter and other leftward groupings have embraced the struggles of women, immigrants, the LGBT community, indigenous peoples and environmentalists in a spectacular series of demonstrations around the United States. Most recently, protest epicenters have sprung up in the face of far-Right gatherings with neo-nazis, klansmen and other white supremacists encountered by throngs of anti-fascists who’d had enough.

Where fights for social justice exist, so too are artists inspiring the up-rise. The good fight has always relied on its cultural workers and in the annals of the Left, countless creative activists have been so dedicated. Langston Hughes (1902-1967) stands out among the standard-bearers of revolutionary poetry, a supreme advocate of Black culture in a period dogged by racism that was thoroughly institutionalized. His poetry affectively captured the rhythms and vibrations of jazz, the pained holler of the blues, the conundrum of the human experience and the wondrousness of words. Charlie Haden (1937-2014) was influenced by the Old Left that elevated the likes of Hughes, Paul Robeson, Woody Guthrie and Zora Neal Hurston, but was a marked figure of the later generation. A bassist of rare talent and vision, after helping to pioneer free jazz under the tutelage of Ornette Coleman, he founded the Liberation Music Orchestra which expanded the language of fight-back in new and daring ways.
In these trying months of 2017, many artists have committed to the cause of change. Here is a look at two ensembles whose statements are threaded through the inspiration of Messrs. Hughes and Haden.

1)      Langston Hughes: The Dream Keeper (Mode Avant, 2017)
Eric Mingus, voice; David Amram, piano; Groove Bacteria and special guests; Larry Simon, musical director
Langston Hughes was, inarguably, one of the most relevant American poets of the twentieth century. Embattled by intolerable racism and homophobia, Hughes defiantly stood as the leading figure of the Harlem Renaissance. More so, he successfully wrapped his high art around the vernacular of African American speech and jazz traditions, all the while writing some of the most revolutionary journalism in the pages of black liberation newspaper “The Crisis” and the Communist Party’s magazine “New Masses”. The biting edge of radicalism would not be lost on his poetry, a point leapt upon by the opportunistic members of the House Un-American Activities Committee as the chill of Cold War raked over the USA as early as 1947.

On The Dream Keeper, Eric Mingus pays homage to Hughes, reciting powerful works of the poet. This son of jazz royalty is a gifted vocalist and poet in his own right, so his emotive impressions of Hughes’ words are indeed visceral. Much of the recitation is set against the compelling improvisations of pianist David Amram, who’d hung out with the Beats and carries the cache of collaborations with both Hughes and Jack Kerouac. But the other major musical voice here is guitarist Larry Simon, whose resume runs from John Zorn and Lester Bowie to poets David Pinsky and Ed Sanders.

The album opens with Hughes’ most famous early work, “The Weary Blues”, heard here as a Mingus/Amram duet. The pair aren’t just performing this piece, it could be said that they are breathing it, pulling the bluest strains through fingers, tongue and teeth. The title cut follows, featuring an expanded version of Simon’s band Groove Bacteria. At full strength it comprises Simon’s guitar and arrangement, Amram’s piano, soprano saxophonist Catherine Sikora, Native American flutist Cynthia Chatis, alto saxophonist Don Davis (doubling on contra alto clarinet), organist Scip Gallant, bassist Chris Stambaugh, drummer Mike Barron and percussionists Shawn Russell and Frank Laurino. Quite effectively, the listener moves through a sound journey with duos of voice/piano or voice/guitar alternating with aspects of the large ensemble.

Stand-out moments may be too hard to signify as the statements within are consistently stellar, but Sikora’s straining, lamenting cries on “The Dream Keeper” reeled me in immediately. Her horn is similarly heard in “Democracy”, part of a triple entente with Davis and Chatis, casting an almost electronic, crying, tearing sustain about Mingus’ voice. But listen--carefully now--to the power of Hughes’ words the inherently terrible timeliness they bear. Right now.
Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.
-for more information see

2)      The Liberation Music Collective: REBEL PORTRAITURE (Ad Astrum Records, Aug 2017)
The Liberation Music Collective is a large ensemble engaging in relevant socio-political statements, the end result of which is earnest, well executed and carefully arranged. The band has taken on an admirably militant role in a time when the US is plagued by division, revitalized racism and escalated xenophobia among other offenses. Urgent concerns have lingered internationally since January.
Within the jazz canon, the free genre is the one most closely identified with revolutionary philosophy. The concept of liberation was vital to the development of that sound and school; as jazz matured into an avant garde vision, Black Liberation and the Black Arts Movement so developed and were deemed the reigning philosophy of most free jazz progenitors. Listening through this album, however, I hear no particular evidence of music so liberated. Music of the Left needn’t necessarily equate with free improvisation and there have been powerful examples of scored orchestral music or folk forms that spoke of the people’s fightback against oppression. Still, one comes to expect a stronger jazz connection and at least a bit of fire music in solo sections when the words ‘Liberation’ and ‘Music’ are part of a band’s title.

As most readers will gather, the ensemble is named for the celebrated Liberation Music Orchestra founded by Charlie Haden and directed by Carla Bley in a time of pressing political import. The LMO’s first album included compositions by the uber-rad Brecht and Eisler as well as traditional songs of the Spanish Civil War as Haden et al cited contemporary struggles for peace, justice and equality in the format. Hell, Haden even wrote “Song for Che” as a feature of the band’s concerts. Soloists on that first record included Don Cherry, Dewey Redman and Gato Barbieri among other noted figures.

While the sense of kinship toward this legendary ensemble is understandable, taking on such a handle is daring, to say the least. The Liberation Music Collective, on the other hand, is comprised of musicians and poets that will not be familiar to most. Led by two transplanted Chicagoans, bassist/vocalist Hannah Fidler and trumpet player Matt Riggen, both recent Indiana University grads, the band holds the enthusiasm of youth. Not to say that there’s not excellent, clean, professional musicianship on display here; there’s no loss of this. And the production by Kabir Sehgal is three-dimensional in scope. However, there is a loss of explosive nastiness, pointed retort and the utter of joy of unbridled protest in this array of horns and rhythm. Tempi are most often slow or moderato bearing layers of harmonies, swells and counter-point. Thick tapestries of drama testify but can become laden by the weight while meditative repeats make a few too many comebacks. The leaders embrace the lush orchestral aspects of Ellington, while ignoring Duke’s love for up-tempo, ass-kicking swing. From a musical perspective, this record could have benefited from a bit of an ass-kicking (sorry, maybe this is just a New York thing).

But focusing on the heart of this effort, the socio-political, is central to the project. The band’s commitment to Black Lives Matter and the struggle for LGBTQ rights, Standing Rock, the Women’s March on Washington and the fight for survival of female war journalists, is deeply sincere (and their website includes important activist tool-kits listeners can easily endeavor. Bravo!). Liner notes clarify the dedication behind each piece, some of which range far into the past. The poetry rolls out at relevant points too, but can become somewhat obscured in the arrangements.

One piece (“Iqra”) includes both hip hop and singing vocals. Glad to see the former represented within this music, but the attempt would have been stronger if an actual rapper was brought in for the hip hop spoken word. Though artists of all backgrounds have adopted and adapted to hip hop as an art form, performing it effectively requires a clear connection to it. This performance sounds overtly…white. Which raises a rather uncomfortable point in a review of a Leftie band: the official photo of the Liberation Music Collective on their website--a pic which is modeled on the familiar cover shot of the LMO, with band member’s standing or kneeling while holding a banner aloft—clarifies that all but one of the 18 or so members is a person of color. It’s hard to imagine that black or brown players aren’t available in Chicago, and as this project is specific to such noble causes, the band’s racial composition must be considered. An array of faces and cultures within any band is an important statement, but in one that has embraced the ethic of Haden’s vision, it should be vivid. Never for tokenism, but to bite back at the wholesale theft of African American culture and to set a model for moving forward.

With this band’s fearless drive toward social change as well as clear skills of composition, arrangement and execution, the means to take on this project are there. Now, the ensemble needs to expand its pathos to illustrate righteous indignation if they are to operate under the guise of ‘Liberation Music’ anything.     

- for more information see

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Essay: SUMMER OF LOVE REDUX, All Over Again

by John Pietaro

San Francisco, June 1967 (Mercury News)

This piece, a combined essay, recollection and review, was composed in late June, 2007, as the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love had moved into public consciousness. I intended it as a piece for “Z”, a magazine I’d frequently been writing for at the time, but it was left unpublished until three years later when I established my blog The Cultural Worker and included this article within it’s archive. Somehow, with the passing of a decade and so much attention thrust upon the half-century mark of the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper as well as that summer in question and its West Coast festival, my thoughts drifted back to this piece.
A bit of dusting is all it took, and upon reading it in light of the nightmare going on in the White House right now, I almost found myself a bit nostalgic for the Bush years. Almost.
In the wake of late 1960s’ mass uprisings, it’s clear that we can do a lot better than George W’s—or LBJ’s--mindless guffaws. But considering the crushing blows that civil rights, women’s rights, workers, the environment and TRUTH have taken in just a few miserable Trumpian months, reaching back to a time of relentless activism as a means of inspiration can only do us a hell of a lot of good. We cannot just flash the peace sign, we must believe it. Liberation must cease to be a concept and once again take on the role of tactic. And when we speak of taking the streets, we’d better mean that we are taking them back. There’s something happening here and it is frighteningly clear.
So, onto my now 10 year old article on the happenings of 1967, ‘Summer of Love Redux’ and take a few moments to consider how far we’ve both come and fallen.

Hey, so it’s been forty years since the Summer of Love. Wasn’t that a time? An illegal war coming to a raging boil, hatred of the US in many parts of the world, an ignorant lame duck southern president flailing about the White House, and of course rising popular unrest. I read the news today, oh boy, and its déjà vu all over again.
But there’s more:  how about the struggle against racism? Though the Voting Rights Act passed the year following the Summer of Love (natch), Americans can still be counted on to seek out blame in other. Oh, and the environment has also made a return. And Labor struggles are coming back, too, but now instead of workers throwing bricks at anti-war protestors, they’re often joining up with them---if this radicalism keeps up, we may grow back the union teeth we lost during the Cold War. Corporate America envisioned world domination during the 1960s and now of course there’s Wal-Mart. And while abortion is not currently illegal, given the climate, who knows how long that may be the case. Still, peace marches go on with earnest tenacity.  And  I Spy mentality is running rampant, but this time focusing on everyone instead of just the Commies. The Man from U.N.C.L.E. is reading my email. This may not exactly be COINTELPRO, but it nearly makes me feel nostalgic for it.
Speaking of nostalgia, what about the music of 1967? This summer marked the middle age, if you will, of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” as well as the debut albums of Jimi Hendrix, David Bowie, Pink Floyd, the Grateful Dead, the Band, the Velvet Underground, Donavan, Taj Mahal, Jefferson Airplane, the Bee Gees, the Buffalo Springfield, Procol Harum, Ten Years After, and the Doors. The Stones released “Their Satanic Majesties Request”. Traffic gave us “Dear Mr. Fantasy”.  The Moody Blues took over the symphony orchestra and brought forth “Days of Future Past”. The Beatles also released the singles “All You Need is Love” and “Strawberry Fields Forever” shortly beforehand, offering both a theme to the summer’s proceedings as well as a backdrop for general tripping. All this while Aretha’s 45 RPM “Respect” was burning up the airwaves. Our pocket radios would never recover.
And while ’67 also saw Brian Wilson walk out of the studio before he could finish his legendary masterwork, “Smile”, that year marked a change in popular music that would not be reversed—until we were force-fed daily Britney Spears reports on cable news shows. But I digress. Dylan began experimenting with the power of roots music in a Woodstock basement with the Band. His “John Wesley Harding” hit record stores later that year, as did the Band’s “Music from Big Pink”. And “Alice’s Restaurant” established the career of Arlo Guthrie, son of the man who made Dylan possible. All this while Dylan cohort Phil Ochs expanded his own palette by releasing “Pleasures of the Harbor”, an expansionist view of folk so different than “going electric”. This year also saw the coming of Ochs’ friend Victor Jara, the Chilean protest singer; neither Ochs nor Jara would survive the 70s or revel in the nostalgia. Neither would Otis Redding ---he was deeply relevant, making the scene in both R & B and rock venues and penning classics that do not allow for stylistic boundaries. Likewise, in ‘67 Sly and the Family Stone were preparing for their first album, offering a fusion of everything—but now it all had groove. Ooooh, Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. Nuff said. And Blood Sweat and Tears were in rehearsal, as was an earlier version of Chicago, then called The Big Thing, forging the jazz-rock that screamed needles off of turn-tables. 
The Electric Flag throbbed with the same vibe—edgy brass and woods laying it down for harrowing electric guitar solos--though from a more Blues-based approach. But then John Coltrane blew them all away with his “Live at the Village Vanguard Again”; jazz-rock couldn’t stand up to this. And  Miles’s “Nefertiti” drove the point home. “Disraeli Gears” by Cream then took the Blues and turned them inside out, but Janis Joplin reclaimed the music, adding a southern authenticity forged through guttural overdrive.  Primal scream therapy coming through your hi-fi.
Love beads may have lost some of their impact, but, shit, that was some great music. Recently we saw the 40th anniversary of Scott McKenzie’s hit “If You’re Going to San Francisco”, which  had actually brought so many wannabes to Haight-Ashbury that most of the originals, like the Diggers and Dead, needed to consider moving on before long. But who could think of that detail, as the anniversary of the Monterey Pop Festival is all the rage? Here was the original benefit concert; a professionally organized be-in that featured some of the very best that rock and pop had to offer. Allen Ginsberg’s vision of an amorphous body of social change had been realized, for the better or worse.
The newly released fortieth anniversary edition CD makes full use of today’s technology (extra tracks and all re-mastered) while reminding us of exactly how we got here. The selections scorch their way through your speakers when they are not offering an ethereal, almost escapist means for us to relax. Hendrix, Joplin (with Big Brother), the Airplane, Mamas and the Papas, Butterfield, Simon and Garfunkel, Otis, the Flag, the Byrds, the Who! There’s Ravi Shankar’s mastery and Hugh Masakela’s multi-culti sounds. The usually mellow Association is actually kicking, while Booker T grooved us to death.
This event, and the anniversary disc, demonstrate the power of song in a period of societal transition. Monterey gets overlooked in light of Woodstock, but its time to recognize the foundation the former laid for the latter’s realization of the youth movement. The musicians may not have always known it, but that summer they were singing the soundtrack to a painful, vital graduation.

-John Pietaro is a writer and musician from New York

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Obit: BERN NIX 1947-2017, the Wire magazine

"The Wire"

BERN NIX 1947-2017 

John Pietaro recalls the Prime Time guitarist

Bern Nix, 2017. Photo by John Pietaro

Writer and musician John Pietaro on the “post-modern experimentalist embedded in the jazz tradition” who co-founded Ornette's Prime Time

Bern Nix, the guitarist and founding member of Ornette Coleman’s Prime Time, died in his Manhattan home on 31 May. His unexpected passing fell just three months short of his 70th birthday.

Nix was widely known as an original, a unique find even among the most avant of the avant garde. News of his loss spread like a firestorm among New York’s jazz community, and the grieved responses of friends and fans are legion. This veteran of Coleman’s legendary sphere contributed his singular instrumental voice to the music continuum, standing as a postmodern experimentalist embedded in the jazz tradition. Nix’s speaking voice was just as intriguing, gently urbane in defiance of an almost sphynx-like repose. His welcoming tone softly beckoned one into his line of logic: Bern enjoyed discussing the nuances not only of music, but philosophy, art, history and radically left politics. A sparkle overtook his eyes as he listened to those in his purview, then raising a finger to signal his entry into the discussion, he quietly came to own the room. As was the case with his guitar playing, when he spoke softly, the focus stayed on him. Bern’s stage whisper was most effective.

Born in Toledo, Ohio, arguably on 21 September 1947 (some bios list his birth year as 1950), Bern Nix was introduced to music in childhood and began playing the guitar at age 11. Driven toward the jazz guitarists of the time, he listened intently to Wes Montgomery, Jimmy Rainey and Barney Kessel, but while encompassing the full canon, he came upon the early electric lead guitarist Charlie Christian who remained a particular inspiration. Nix later moved to Boston to study at the Berklee College of Music in preparation for a career in the mainstream. “I always had a penchant for straight-ahead jazz guitar playing,” he told me in 2013, “and I play that still. Before I worked with Ornette, I never thought I would be in Prime Time. But this music allows the harmony to shift, like chase-chords, moving through and beyond. It is in and it is out…”

The offer to work with the framer of free jazz was too much to pass up for the budding young guitarist. In 1975, after graduation, he came to New York and successfully auditioned for the job with Coleman, replacing James Blood Ulmer. Nix came to work closely with the master in the developing of Prime Time, Coleman’s vehicle for bringing his harmolodic theory into a funk-oriented, heavily amplified milieu. As was the case with the fervour raised by Ornette’s original quartet in 59, many audiences were critical of the new sound, claiming it to be a “sell-out”. Nix never agreed. “The ‘swing’ was always there,” he recalled. “This music is an extension of the early jazz tradition where the sense of freedom, the improvisation, was constantly creative. Here the band’s roles are never static and are always shifting, evolving…”

Nix became a core member of Prime Time, a focal point of its critically acclaimed debut LP, Dancing in Your Head, which also brandished the spectre of The Master Musicians Of Joujouka in its grooves. The album was utterly epic. Follow-ups Body Meta (1976), Of Human Feelings (1979), In All Languages (1987) and Virgin Beauty (1988) were nothing if not wonderfully controversial. New music circles everywhere paid heed to the band that begat whole schools of downtown thought. But even as he served as its first lead guitarist, Nix began working with others then populating the Lower East Side, crafting fusions of genre unique to the time and place. He toured with no waver James Chance in 1981 and performances with Sedition and Sabir Mateen followed, but the 1984 debut of The Bern Nix Trio offered the guitarist a personalised pool of creativity. The Trio also allowed Nix to maintain a public profile as Coleman embarked on a strike against the recording industry, protesting corporate stranglehold.

Nix’s band wouldn’t record until 1993’s Alarms And Excursions, by which time several changes of line-up occurred (bassist Fred Hopkins and drummer Newman Baker are on the record), but its core maintained consistency: pure Bern Nix.

Though the Trio continued as a force, The Bern Nix Quartet grew from within and in recent years became Nix’s primary ensemble. Bassist Francois Grillot, multi-instrumentalist Matt Lavelle (trumpet, alto clarinet, flugelhorn) and drummer Reggie Sylvester cast an acoustic format that straddled the boundaries of free jazz, new composition and, yes, funk. Nix’s solos comprised of quivering single notes, barked dyads and chordal runs up and down and then across his instrument’s neck. He toyed with repetitions before tossing them aside for lines of advanced tonality. Kandinsky-esque staccato phrases and slippery runs alternated. Technique for Nix can be boiled down to legitimacy torn asunder by design.

Pertinent collaborations with poet Jayne Cortez, and downtown stalwarts Jemeel Moondoc, John Zorn, Kip Hanrahan, Elliot Sharp and Arto Lindsay kept Nix at the top of his game. But his presence was also felt in guest spots with 30 years’ worth of young lions, features in area festivals and ensembles such as The Beyond Group (led by flautist Cheryl Pyle) and those helmed by Lavelle, or saxophonists Patrick Brennan or Ras Moshe Burnett among many more.

Nix’s final performance was on 27 May, just several days prior to his passing. His set was a feature of New Music Nights, the series I curated, and by all account this was a particularly enlivened Quartet gig. Afterward, Bern spoke of the callous political climate afflicting the US since January, the weariness evident in his stance. As I folded mic stands, our discussion turned to future bookings in the series. “Of course, Bern. Any time. Any time,” I smiled as he departed.

Ever the bohemian, Nix lived a meagre life in a tiny single room Ooccupancy apartment. He struggled to make ends meet and pondered at length the loss of opportunities for creatives in these times. He played the same guitar over many decades, the carrying case of which seemed held together merely by hope. Arriving at dates with his instrument and an impossibly tiny amplifier, he could make the old instrument sing, cry, bite, bellow and swoon, with nary an effort. Leaning over its sunburst soundboard, he withheld his glance from the front row, tired eyes deep-set, pointed downward, not in a haughty manner but locked in an especially artful space all his own. His was a linear style which cut across expansive melodies, harmonies and rhythm.

While he had no opportunities in recent times to hit the major venues of the Prime Time era, Nix thrived in each performance setting he encountered. Whether on the Vision Festival main stage in 2013 or in the fleeting rooms that sprang up on New York’s Lower East Side or in Williamsburg, he offered audiences a rare, valuable and cherished glimpse into the legacy of Ornette. That giant of free jazz produced a stable of harmolodic emissaries whose work blossomed into whole other forms, still newer realms. Bern Nix stood proudly among them, a survivor, a model, a teacher, a musical adventurer and a gem. We were lucky to have been touched by his bold creativity and gentle hand.

John Pietaro is a writer, musician and cultural organiser from Brooklyn, New York. You can visit his blog at and website

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Reportage: Union Nurse and Healthcare Worker Picket

Registered Nurses & Healthcare Workers Stand Together in Informational Picket and Strike Vote

New York healthcare unions NYSNA and 1199 SEIU unite to battle bad-faith bargaining, Unfair Labor Practices and union busting during two-year negotiation struggle with Fresenius Kidney Care

By John Pietaro

It was a chilly, overcast morning as members of the New York State Nurses Association and 1199 SEIU took the Brooklyn and Bronx streets. Registered Nurses, Technicians, Social Workers, Dietitians, environmental and clerical staff have been in contract negotiations with dialysis juggernaut Fresenius Kidney Care for over two years. Both unions’ negotiation proceedings have been riddled with negativity from the employer, globally the largest and most profitable of dialysis providers. Fresenius boasts a dense network of facilities across the Americas, Europe, the Far East and other regions. Recent reports state that the company’s profits are in the range of $1.5 BILLION.
“Our clinic is staffed short almost every night”, said Stacey White RN, a Fresenius employee and NYSNA delegate. “All I can say is that Fresenius just doesn’t seem to care. Many evenings, we have only two instead of the necessary three nurses on duty--and management has no plan to bring in another. Techs are scheduled the same way. This can jeopardize our patients’ safety”. The union healthcare professionals and technicians have regularly voiced their protest to such dangerous staffing practices.

Bernadette Hankey-Johnson RN, long-time Fresenius employee, felt similarly. “We are always so busy. If the nurses and Techs weren’t so vigilant…” Nurse Hankey-Johnson looked away pensively, tightly clutching a placard reading PATIENTS BEFORE PROFITS.  In the distance others on the line began cheering as truckers’ horns sounded out in support. The thicket of traffic on Atlantic Avenue joined in noisily, excitedly. HONK FOR PATIENT CARE! another placard asked, and passing police cars rang sirens resoundingly.

The unions involved have bargained in good faith toward fair contracts, seeking to maintain union health benefits and pensions, and acquire moderate raises and incremental differential increases for experience. Employees’ last saw raises more than six years back. NYSNA is also seeking a clinical committee to elicit change as needed for safe staffing. However Fresenius continues to present harsh proposals which would take away health benefits and pensions or obliterate union security. The choices have been flagrantly disrespectful.

In 2015 Fresenius closed the Brooklyn Kidney Center, a union facility, and initially stated that the clinic opening in its place would continue to honor the twin union contracts. Though management and the unions met to arrange for the laid-off staff to move to the new site, Fresenius leadership later informed the unions that the company will not honor its earlier promise. The company claims that the site on DeGraw Street in Gowanus is not a replacement but a new operation. Many Fresenius employees remain laid-off after the closure and none have been offered work opportunities at the expansive DeGraw site. NYSNA filed charges of Unfair Labor Practice with the National Labor Relations Board against Fresenius’ actions.

As more staff came out to join the picket, they stated that management, for the first time in memory, had ordered in lunch for them. “But none of us are partaking”, reported Mercedes Anderson-Draggon RN. “Because this lunch they’re offering is not free. The ultimate cost is too high”.

By day’s end, as the strike vote was tallied, it was clear that both NYSNA and 1199 SEIU members were fully prepared for to embark on whatever was necessary: all had voted to authorize a strike. 1199 will be meeting with Fresenius for a negotiation session on April 26; NYSNA activists will be there with them. The outcome of this will be the actual deciding vote as to what comes next. “We don’t want to strike”, one of the unionists told a sympathetic passerby, “but we will if we have to”.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

film review: Thomas Chapin: Night Bird Song

“Thomas Chapin: Night Bird Song—the incandescent life of a jazz great”

A documentary by Stephanie J. Castillo –

Film review by John Pietaro

Have you had the chance to see this moving, enticing film on Thomas Chapin (1957-1998), the brilliantly artful saxophonist and flutist? It was shown in various locations in Manhattan, from City Winery to Lincoln Center, and also in festivals around the nation and globe, but somehow got passed my watchful eye. Until now. Just caught a screening in Flushing, Queens last night, and it was well worth the trip from my Brooklyn home base. Sadly, Chapin’s all too brief career was also easy to miss, though he was a busy player on the mainstream scene and also hailed a champion downtown, quickly moving to the front of the Knitting Factory stage during the later ‘80s and ‘90s. As per the onscreen testimony of Michael Dorf, Knitting Factory founder, Chapin was the first artist to be signed to the now sought-after Knitting Factory record label and the main attraction of the overseas tours he produced under that banner.

Here was an alto player of constant invention and a wonderfully listenable tone (I couldn’t help but notice some similarity to that of David Sanborn) who thrived in settings from Lionel Hampton’s big band, of which he was musical director, to the incendiary realm of Machine Gun. Throughout the screening, I kept wondering how I could have not caught on to this deeply talented musician back then, even as I haunted the downtown venues and played at that original Knitting Factory location on Houston Street.

Award winning filmmaker Stephanie J. Castillo was actually Chapin’s sister-in-law, so had access to not only family members for interview segments, but close friends and musical allies with the saxophonist, offering viewers a much fuller understanding of the man than could have otherwise been possible. I’m glad she did. The documentary is a thorough examination of every facet of Chapin’s development, success and challenges. Though the story ends with the terribly young death of the protagonist, his final passing from a vicious strain of leukemia occurred only after achieving his wish to perform onstage one final time. The footage of that event, and surrounding interviews, carries every viewer into the moment and the effect, simultaneously a lamentation and celebration, is stirring.

“Thomas Chapin: Night Bird Song” is not to be missed, especially if you were downtown during the heyday of East Village creativity. Or just wish you were. It hits screens in DC and Charlottesville later this month. On May 6 the Brooklyn Conservatory of Music hosts a concert of Chapin compositions performed by many of the musicians who worked with him over the years. See the above website for details.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

CD Review: Iconoclast, "Driven to Defiance"

"NYC Jazz Record", April 2017
CD review by John Pietaro
Here’s a duo born of Downtown when that geographic designation meant much more than simply “below 23rd Street”. And well before the bistros and condos. This is grassroots music, as pure as the old Palace Hotel. Driven to Defiance? Iconoclast was bred on it. Alto saxophonist/violinist Julie Joslyn and drummer Leo Ciesa create explosive free music and soaring melodies that mingle gorgeously on an unpredictable playlist. The duo is a grand array of sound now celebrating their 30th anniversary. And there’s much to celebrate.  “Nothing Untold” is a 6/8 Ciesa statement played on toms with timpani mallets deftly variated with subdivisions and bending tempo building toward a mournful alto melody. One hears the Middle Eastern influence within a complete and incisive work. Like many of the original Downtown artists, Iconoclast recognizes the strength in relatively short statements as established by the punk and no wave bands they shared many a stage with in the ‘80s-90s.  Of note is “One Hundred Verticals”, a slow boil into gripping fire music. Joslyn’s violin playing is reminiscent of Ornette Coleman’s foray into that instrument, albeit with a modern classical outline ever present. Searching, possibly archaic tunes make frequent appearances as do other melismatic themes. At times while Joslyn is serenading, Ciesa carefully drops in broken blues piano, tabla-like drumset parts or a mix of classic New Thing and devastating industrial percussion. “You’re So Very Touchable” is a warm love song with a sensuous alto resounding over delicate drumming, but no Downtowner worth their salt would allow this emotion to ruminate; “Spheres of Influence” barks at the ear with the impact of a time when avant garde jazzers jammed with punk rockers in unheated squats. And Joslyn’s spoken word is used to dramatic effect on “Part of the Hour”, a work of expressionist, surreal poetry with a very strong Ciesa piano score that feels like ‘30s Hanns Eisler.

For more information, visit This project is at Michiko Studios Apr. 7th. See Calendar. 

Sunday, February 19, 2017


By John Pietaro

Amina Baraka photo by Joyce Jones

New Masses Nights, the monthly series of radical performance, will celebrate Black History Month with the legendary Amina Baraka who will perform selections from her recently recorded debut CD.
Ms. Baraka, a vital force of social justice and fight-back over decades, is a poet of unique talent who stands as woefully under-recognized. Though she’d been active alongside her late husband, the celebrated poet Amiri Baraka, her work as an independent artist has often been overlooked outside of the activist circle in the New York/New Jersey area. While some state that this was caused by being outshined by the fame of Mr. Baraka’s output, others attest that the couple’s international profile as voices of radicalism enforced an unspoken censorship about her. “Plus, I was raising a family”, Ms. Baraka clarified. Those were hard years. Someone had to be here when the children came home from school. When Amiri traveled, I often needed to be home”. The family experienced threats by reactionary forces, and during the height of COINTELPRO operations, the Barakas were subject to federal and local government investigation, compelling Ms. Baraka to stand protectively over home and children.

Stories of a lifetime
Ms. Baraka’s plans to record an album of her poetry have been long-standing, a goal she always intended to see realized. Working in a collaborative effort with this reporter over the past year, she began to formulate the project as one which would offer a vision of herself through the stories of her lifetime. “Some of these poems date back to the 1960s and ’70s. Others were written very recently as I sit up nights into the early morning hours.  Memories, faces, sounds. It’s all about the people’s struggle”, she explained.

After signing a contract with renowned underground jazz label ESP-Disk (which released albums by such seminal artists as Albert Ayler and Ornette Coleman), Ms. Baraka worked with this reporter’s quartet the Red Microphone to establish arrangements for her poetry. Some of the pieces were set to original compositions of band member Rocco John Iacovone while others were cast over free jazz, blues or R & B-flavored music. The material was recorded in January’s chill at Park West Studios in Flatbush, Brooklyn NY. The CD is due for release in late spring or early summer. ESP-Disk’s Steven Holtje has remarked that the project is one of “historic” proportions.
During the recording session Ms. Baraka remarked: “I’ve been waiting my entire life to record my poetry this way. I thrive on the music and much of it is improvised, so that leads me to perform the pieces in new ways, in some cases with new words. This CD is very important right now as we face a kind of American fascism we haven’t known before.”

In performance
Ms. Baraka, in the company of the Red Microphone, will perform selections from this collection at the radical arts series New Masses Nights on Saturday February 25, 7pm at the Henry Winston Unity Hall located at 235 West 23 Street, 7th floor, in the Chelsea district of Manhattan. Admission is a $10 donation. The members of the Red Microphone are Ras Moshe Burnett (tenor saxophone, flute), Rocco John Iacovone (alto and soprano saxophones, piano), Laurie Towers (electric bass) and this writer, musical director/drummer-percussionist John Pietaro.

Toward the cause of Black History Month, other performers on the February 25 bill include jazz bassist/poet Larry Roland’s quartet (Larry Roland-Bass, Poetry, Voice; Michael Moss-Reeds, Flute; Waldron Ricks- Trumpet; Chuck Fertel- Drums) and guitarist Dave Ross’ trio (Dave Ross- Guitar; Eric Lawrence-Saxophone, Flute; Ras Moshe Burnett-Saxophones, Flute; special guest Shlomit Oren Ross: Movement, Voice). There will also be a reading of a Langston Hughes work originally published in “New Masses”, the revolutionary cultural magazine the series is named for.

For more information on the series see and see the FB event page

Thursday, January 5, 2017

NYC Jazz Record feature: LEON PARKER

"NYC Jazz Record", January 2017

LEON PARKER: Reaffirming Roots and Branches

By John Pietaro

After 15 years of life abroad, where he engaged in a musical pilgrimage of sorts, native New Yorker Leon Parker is back. Hopefully, to stay. 

Known as a brash young lion at the dawn of the ‘90s, the drummer/percussionist was as celebrated as deemed notorious due to a thorny frankness and an arduous drive to authenticity. Parker explained, “I’m the same person as back then, but after much reflection, I don’t hold the anger I once did”. What he may have given up in agitation, Parker’s cultivated in a renewed vitality for the drumset as well as the realization of his concept of body percussion and voice he calls EmbodiRhythm.

Born in White Plains, New York, 1965, Leon Parker was exposed to the lineage of jazz as a toddler. “My grandparents had met uptown during the Harlem Renaissance and they carried this incredible record collection with them through the years”. He was drawn to the inherent rhythms of jazz and early showed an affinity toward percussives. The decisive moment was seeing Buddy Rich play on the Tonight Show. “My parents got me out of bed to see this. I was about 6 years old and was inspired enough to demand they buy me a real drumset as opposed to just toys. Seeing someone play so strongly and with so much command of the instrument, I know I needed to do this”. 

In grade school, the youthful Parker began playing drums in a school band and befriended another budding young percussionist, Scott Latzky. “His father was a complete jazz nut and we used to go to his place to listen to his records”. Both then entered a local talent show, performing solo drumset spots. Within a few years, both were members of the Westchester Youth Jazz Ensemble, directed by James Harewood, later Frank Foster.

“I listened to a lot of the old Gene Krupa records when I was learning. Especially what he played on Goodman’s ‘Sing, Sing’, Sing’. I still love the floor tom; it’s a special drum that needs taming. Then I came to love Art Blakey’s drumming, especially his supportive playing behind others in his band. And I’ve always enjoyed Tony Williams and use some of his spice. But my favorite musician in the world is Roy Haynes. I’ve never copied his approach but the spirit is there.”

Parker, at age 17, began performing frequently with a local band and also started working with Hudson Valley area saxophonist Carmen Leggio. Still, he felt a world away from New York’s jazz center. “White Plains to NYC is only a 40 min train ride but for me it was as far off as Australia. The bridge was guitarist Melvin Sparks. He introduced me to Dr. Lonnie Smith”. Parker also engaged in Barry Harris’ programs and by 1986, was an “unofficial student” at the New School’s jazz program, under the watchful eye of Arnie Lawrence. He credits saxophonist Virginia Mayhew (“an unsung hero”) with bringing him to Lawrence’s attention. Serving as the frequent drummer on many student recitals, Parker came into contact with the up-and-coming players of that period. He also began making nightly vigils to Bradley’s during Kenny Barron’s long tenure at the club. When invited to do so, Parker began sitting in with the group, but not by taking over drummer Ben Riley’s kit: “I was fascinated by the cymbals. When I was 22 years old and used to go to Bradley’s all the time and carry only a cymbal with me. Kenny would let me sit in”. And then when Riley was unavailable to make the gig for one week, “I took the drum chair”, he said with a laugh, “but still played on just the one cymbal”, causing a rumble across the jazz community. 

Playing a slightly fuller drum set, he formed his own quartet and also began working with Bill Charlap and Joshua Redman. Soon, he too would become house drummer for the Blue Note jam sessions and at the terrace of the Village Gate, leading a trio with Brad Mehldau and Uganna Okegwo. In 1992, the drummer recorded and toured with Dewey Redman. 

A year later, Parker recorded his first album as a leader, ‘Above and Below’ and with it, set out to redefine the drumset to his own specifications. “Trying to do gigs on the ride cymbal alone, I realized it was crazy. I had come up with a drumset that let me do gigs like a normal guy with a focus on the cymbal”. A period of experimentation had him incorporate a hi-hat briefly. “Now I have one cymbal and no hi-hat. I can communicate so much more with that. BD, snare, two tom-toms, one cymbal”.
After releasing several more albums, the drummer became disenchanted with the direction the jazz industry was taking the music. “I saw all the bullshit involved. I was looking for something but was very outspoken”, he said of his bifurcated rebellion against and desire to be accepted by the broader jazz community. “I saw the authentic values disregarded while the music industry capitalized on the tradition of jazz. So I left in 2001”. 

Relocating to a small French village, Parker immersed himself in the essence of music’s communication. “I didn’t bring a drumset with me. I had been experimenting with body rhythms and vocal sounds, and wanted to explore this more”. He avoided much of the French jazz scene, focusing instead on teaching EmbodiRhythm workshops. Over the years he was away, Parker had only isolated occasions to play drums before heeding the call from old friend Aaron Goldberg. After playing a local show with the pianist, Parker was ready to return home to the US; he arrived in New York in time for last fall’s performance season. Gigs with Goldberg continue and Parker is now well within his comfort zone, performing with his own Humanity Quartet and facilitating EmbodiRhythms workshops. “Deciding to move back to New York, I had to look over the earlier expectations I had put upon myself and the institution of jazz. I no longer believe in institutions. We are artists and if there’s sincerity and authenticity in our work, then it remains powerful”. 

Album review: Gene Pritsker’s Sound Liberation, Let’s Save the World Suite

  Gene Pritsker’s Sound Liberation , Let’s Save the World Suite (Composers Concordance 2022) --originally published in The NYC Jazz Recor...