A Heathen Jazz Primer

So, longtime Heathen Tom asked on Facebook for a top-5 or top-10 list to serve as a jazz primer of sorts. I started typing, and then realized a wider distribution might spark more interesting discussion, so here’s where I exercise a staggering degree of hubris in compiling just such a list: the Heathen Jazz Top Ten.

First, an aside. What popular culture thinks about when they think of “jazz” is probably the stuff that happened in the late 50s and early 60s, and that period is well represented below. This isn’t to say that the stuff before (Charlie Parker! Louie Armstrong!) or the stuff after (Ornette Coleman! Terence Blanchard!) is less valuable; only that my the Heathen playlist is sort of centered there, and on things that grew directly out of that period (Miles’ electric work, e.g.). All that said, I’ve got enough ego to suggest that this might make a good survey of jazz for those interested but unexposed. Jump in here; branch out as indicated. In other words, come on in; the water’s fine.

So, more or less off the cuff — and in chronological, not quality, order — here we go:

  1. Kind of Blue, Miles Davis, 1959. This is the biggest jazz record ever. I am not exaggerating. (It’s also the best selling — 4,000,000 and counting.) Davis’ band for this record includes giants-in-their-own-right John Coltrane and Cannonball Adderly. Its recording is the subject of a book. Despite being hugely popular and famous, it’s also incredibly important, and represented a real departure at the time. Jazz as we know it today would be impossible without Kind of Blue (hell, MUSIC as we know it wouldn’t be the same, either). Bonus: Totally safe for non-afficianado audiences.

  2. Time Out, Dave Brubeck, 1959. You know half the songs on this disc already. It’s also the only example of “West Coast” or “Cool Jazz” on the list. Superclean and precise, its sound prefigures Steely Dan in some ways. Like KoB, it’s also extremely accessible; play it at a dinner party, and your guests will praise your taste.

  3. Mingus Ah Um, Charles Mingus, 1959. You can’t have any list without Mingus. It’s just silly. MAU is my go-to Mingus recording.

  4. Sketches of Spain, Miles Davis, 1960. It’s almost impossible to believe that Davis produced this and Kind of Blue in the same two-year period, but there it is. Sketches is unusual in lots of ways, but the biggest departure is that Davis worked with composure and arranger Gil Evans here, and so we get a “jazz” record that’s far more composed and far less improvisational than nearly anything else in this category. Davis’ own contemporaries tried to suggest it wasn’t jazz because of this, to which he is said to have replied “It’s music, and I like it.” You will, too. It’s an excellent choice for the dim-room-and-fine-wine treatment.

  5. My Favorite Things, John Coltrane, 1961. Trane plunges headlong into free jazz here, but not in a way that makes the record inaccessible to casual listeners; the title track is a long way from Julie Andrews, but it’s also clearly the same song. I’m particularly fond of “next steps” records where artists are really finding a new form; this is a great example (as is Silent Way, also on the list), and reminds you of how incredible the 1959-1972 period was for American music. By this point, Trane’s already got McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones with him; they’ll still be there for “A Love Supreme,” below.

  6. Money Jungle. Duke Ellington, Max Roach and Charles Mingus recorded this in a single day session in 1962. To hell with the Sun “Million Dollar Quartet;” I’d give eye teeth to have seen this trio. This disc is never “put up” at my house, and I have copies on my laptop, my iPod, and my iPhone at all times. It’s staggering and beautiful while also being COMPLETELY safe for nonjazz people. (Remember the black-text-on-white Flash animation “Samsung Means To Come” I blogged some years back? Its music was taken from Money Jungle.)

  7. A Love Supreme, John Coltrane, 1965. Widely viewed as one of Trane’s masterworks, this modal opus is the earliest “concept album” in my whole collection. Play it all the way through the first time you listen, preferably in a darken room. Intoxicants are optional. Dramatically less accessible than Brubeck, but still recognizably post-bop and not anywhere near the free jazz or fusion entries you’ll find elsewhere on the list. Also still safe for dinner parties, but only very hip ones.

  8. Straight, No Chaser; Thelonious Monk, 1966. I’m not the student of Monk that I am of Davis, but this record cooks.

  9. In A Silent Way, Miles Davis, 1969. This is when things start to get a little far out for the mundanes. IASW is still recognizably the same kind of creature the early sixties produced, jazzwise, but is also well on its way to something else entirely. Miles and his band — which at this point included household names like John McLaughlin, Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams, Chick Corea, and Wayne Shorter — are fully electrified here, which signals the start of a trend for Davis that would reach its apotheosis with his next album (Bitches Brew, only a year later but light years beyond in style and approach) and his live performances in the 1970s (e.g., Black Beauty, Dark Magus, Agharta, and the Cellar Door Sessions that became Live-Evil). N.B. that while Silent Way is listenable for nonfans, dropping the needle on anything after that — especially BB — will clear a motherfucking room. It’s musical durian. Of course, some will stay behind, but you’ll like them enough to open up the good Scotch.

  10. Root Down, Jimmy Smith, 1972. There is little more magical and alive than the sound of Jimmy Smith at a Hammond B3. This live record captures him at his peak. Do NOT miss this one. (It’s also the source for the sample in the Beastie Boys track of the same name. Them kids got taste.)

And two not on the list:

  • On the Corner, Miles Davis, 1972. Bitches Brew meets Funkenstein. I actually like OTC better than BB, but that’s not the “scholarly” opinion. I say check ’em both out.

  • A Tale of God’s Will, Terence Blanchard Quintet, 2007. Like Davis’ Sketches, this is much less improvisational than the rest of the list; jazz isn’t always improv through and through. Blanchard’s reasons here are similar to Davis’ in 1960: he involves an orchestra. His tribute to his hometown of New Orleans — it’s subtitled “A Requiem for Katrina” — will raise goosebumps with its beauty.

5 thoughts on “A Heathen Jazz Primer

  1. Pretty good list. I own six of your top ten and several others by the same artists. Also, don’t forget John Coltrane had a talented wife named Alice. If you can find her records, they’re pretty strong (though less “accessible” than her ex-husband, John).

  2. Excellent list, I have no argument. Maybe a quibble or two..but certainly no argument. You should drop it on Amazon or something..I’ve seen some really stoopid primer lists there.

  3. Hey, thanks, man — I was actually meaning to point you at it to see what you thought. Amazon’s not a bad idea, I reckon.

  4. This is Hayden, using my LJ identity.

    Nice list! With well-written descriptions! Included many of my favorite jazz discs!

    I’d do a couple of things differently, but they’re minor:

    1. Instead of Straight, No Chaser, which does indeed cook, I’d go for the more unified Brilliant Corners, which cooks with grease.

    2. I love the hell out of Jimmy Smith, but this list is seriously missing Bill Evans. Go with Everybody Digs Bill Evans, because the title isn’t lying.

    Extra credit:

    This is nitpicking, but I like Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus slightly more than Mingus Ah Um. It’s a pretty slight edge, though. Also, The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady is his best album, but it’s weirder than either of the other two, and I’d never recommend it to first-time Mingus listeners.

    More Monk you need to hear: Monk’s Dream, Thelonious Monk Trio, and the recently discovered Thelonious Monk Trio With John Coltrane At Carnegie Hall, which is the best example of improvisionally turning math into art that’s ever been caught on tape. Imagine a live recording of Bach creating fugues on the fly. Or James Joyce making up the Anna Livia Plurabelle chapter of Finnegans Wake one evening while plastered. Or Einstein breaking down the nonlocality paradox while juggling chainsaws. This is like that.

    More deserving bop-based albums: Sonny Rollins’ Saxophone Colossus, Dexter Gordon’s Go!, Cannonball Adderley’s Somethin’ Else, and (yes, more Miles) Miles Davis’ Bags’ Groove, where the band is Davis, Rollins, Monk, Milt Jackson, Kenny Clarke, and Percy Heath. Smokin’!

    For those intrigued by On The Corner or late-period Coltrane, yes to Alice Coltrane and to: Albert Ayler’s Spiritual Unity, Cecil Taylor’s Air, Eric Dolphy’s Out To Lunch, Sun Ra’s Space Is The Place! (also excellent, if bizarre: Sun Ra’s The Singles, which consists of for-hire tracks pitched somewhere between his space-jazz, doo wop, and Southern-fried R&B, and which is a huge influence on Yo La Tengo, of all bands), Pharoah Sanders’ Karma, and ESPECIALLY Ornette Coleman’s Something Else!, The Shape of Jazz To Come, and (for those who like Beefheart) Of Human Feelings. My son’s middle name is “Sphere” after Thelonious Sphere Monk, but my first choice was “Ornette,” which was nixed by my wiser wife.

    Jeez, I was going to write about vocal jazz, too, but I’m beat.

  5. Well, I’ve started. Listened to A Love Supreme. Really really good. Could not do the darkened room, but very inspirational, to say the least.

    Now, I’ve got a disk called “Milestones” So, its a bit of a compilation, so it is not the original format, but great stuff nonetheless.

    Thanks should go out to Guillermo Hernandez-Ching. Director of the Strake Jesuit Music department for his kindness in allowing me to expand my taste. And, of course, Thanks to the Chetster for his time and effort!

    Tom