Happy Fathers’ Day to all! I’ve been thinking about my father as I wrote this weeks blog post. I really hope/think that he will like this album, and I know it will be new to him. He really likes Dixieland music, and I think that this will be, for him, a fresh take on some familiar music.
Listening
To listen to this album for free, click on the links below. If you’re not sure where to start, my favorites are tracks 1, 4, and 6!
1. Goin’ Home
3. Down By The Riverside (Take 6)
4. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (Take 3)
5. Deep River
6. When The Saints Go Marchin’ In
7. Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen
9. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (Take 1)
10. Down By The Riverside (Take 5)
Nitty Gritty (Reference Section)
Recorded February 24, 1964. Line-up: Albert Ayler (soprano, alto, and tenor saxophones), Call Cobbs, Jr. (piano), Henry Grimes (bass), Arthur “Sunny” Murray (drums).
Personal Connections
The specific reasons that I was so eager to write about this album were three-fold, I guess. Yeah, there are all sorts of musical reasons as well (and hopefully we can scratch the surface of them here too), but there are three personal reasons that have gotten me really excited about this album lately.
The first is that Goin’ Home is the jazz album that I have most recently shared with a friend. About a month ago, I sent her one song from this album (Down by the Riverside), and one song from another Albert Ayler album (the song was Summertime, which I love in the same way that I love the Goin’ Home album). Her excitement about the music (despite her lack of a strong jazz background) made it clear it was a good choice to be shared with y’all!
The second reason is that I recently sat with a good friend, Mr. Magee, and listened to a street musician solo clarinetist (am I remembering this correctly, Harrison?) play songs like The Battle Hymn of the Republic and Amazing Grace. The clarinetist was a relatively old man who seemed to be figuring out how to play the instrument as he went along. The tunes he played clearly lived somewhere deep within him. He played them simply. And sloppily. The whole thing would’ve been comical (the sounds he was producing weren’t far from those of an elementary school clarinetist trying to play these songs), if it wasn’t for how genuine the music sounded. When an elementary school clarinetist tries to play a song from their memory, he/she is barely listening to what they are playing, and there is a reaction, for instance, to the wrong notes that are played. This man, however, listened closely to what he played, but seemed to not be bothered by the wrong notes or unusual sounds that he was making. There was no striving for something better. He found in what he played the essence of the music from his memory. In many ways, his sound was not unlike Albert Ayler’s on this album.
The third personal reason that I’ve chosen this album is that it represents my most recent breakthrough in my own jazz appreciation. I have always approached my jazz listening very methodically, only getting into one period of jazz once I’ve garnered a detailed appreciation for the previous periods (those to which it was a response). For about a year and a half I was stuck in the mid-’50s and wouldn’t really listen to any jazz later than that. The two main hurdles to tackle for me at the beginning of the ’60s were John Coltrane and The New Thing (also known as Free or Avant-Garde Jazz). Fortunately, both of these have been cracked for me over the past few months: Coltrane clicked during my preparations for my jazz honors exam, and Free Jazz clicked when I began listening to Albert Ayler, who made it all make sense to me.
Overview of the Music
In order to understand Albert Ayler (whose name, by the way, is pronounced ‘Eye-ler’), it is useful to explain a little bit about Free Jazz. By the 1950s, the rules of jazz music had been pretty well codified. There were basic assumptions in place about what players and listeners ought to expect, about what sounds, notes, and harmonies were “allowed”, and which ones wouldn’t make any sense at all. There were standard ways in which jazz musicians communicated to and relied on one another. The 1950s represented the stretching of these rules/assumptions/expectations to their peak (which is why this period produced great album after great album after great album—the cats had simply figured out how the music works best). In this way, jazz in the 1950s is roughly analogous to the Classical period in music (and art, literature, etc.). The 1950s in jazz is, as I see it, Newtonian physics.
But, by the end of the ’50s, musicians started to ask a host of “what if” questions. Like in the late 19th and early 20th centuries in “Classical” music (as well as analogous periods in science, literature, visual art, and the post-Sondheim period in musical theater), people experimented with breaking all or some of the rules. There was a search for new ways to make the music coherent and new, unexpected, devices that could be relied on. The new, experimental, language that emerged made use of techniques novel in jazz (playing on the inside of the piano, creating squeaks and squawks on the saxophones, …), used atypical jazz instruments (bass clarinet, tuba, …), changed the roles of the existing instruments (removing the piano entirely, removing the responsibility of the bass and drums to be “timekeepers”, …), changed the way that harmony was used (ignoring it altogether in favor of other devices, creating harmonies in an improvised fashion instead of working them out in advance, …).
In looking away from the codified rules of jazz, some musicians latched on to other musics. The Art Institute of Chicago, for instance, looked back to the music and culture of Africa. Albert Ayler looked to gospel, spirituals, marches (which he would have learned during his time in the military), and other music. Even hints of mariachi can be found in his compositions and improvisations. For me, dependence on these familiar musics and musical elements makes Albert Ayler’s music compelling, even when he strays far from the beaten path.
Most often, Ayler albums are comprised of original compositions that draw upon the above-mentioned musics in various ways. Goin’ Home is an album that only contains Ayler’s interpretation of existing songs, drawn from our collective cultural musical memory.
The allmusic guide, whose ratings I usually trust, gives Goin’ Home only three out of five stars. The album might not be the most inspired album (it might be the most impassioned, however), and it is probably too simple for many. Ayler doesn’t seem to have any lofty ambitions for this album (unlike some of his others, Spiritual Unity (1964), among them). He doesn’t say much more than he needs to say on this album, but I think he says it damn beautifully!
Specifics To Listen For
I’ll draw your attention to three of my favorite tracks on the album.
Track 1, Goin’ Home. This song, in many ways, encapsulates the entire album for me. Ayler’s playing on the take is incredibly emotional and earnest. He doesn’t take a solo. He simply states the melody, with barely any melodic embellishment or ornamentation. What he adds, though, with his wailing, his wide vibrato, and subtle shifts in tone color, is incredibly powerful and beautiful.
I’m not sure if it is an artifact of the recording medium (analog tapes), or if either Ayler or Cobbs (piano) was recording along with a different saxophone take, but you can hear on the recording another saxophone in the background. It is very quiet and only audible a second or so before each saxophone entrance, but if you listen carefully (listening on headphones might help), you will be able to hear it in the silences. (It can also be heard on Track 7, Nobody Knows The Trouble I’ve Seen). I’d be interested to hear if anybody knows the story behind this!
Track 4, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot (Take 3). I wanted to mention this track for those of you who will only have a chance to listen to a few tracks on the album… this one is one of my three favorites. As the song speaks for itself, I won’t say anything about it, but as always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it!
Track 6, When The Saints Go Marchin’ In. This song is filled with incredible joy and exuberance. You will notice that the rhythm section has slightly different values than in most jazz recordings. There is no real emphasis on lining up, or playing strictly in time with one another. Their playing is not, in any way, clean. This track has some brilliant play between members of the rhythm section, but it is not typical, either for dixieland music (which they are evoking), or jazz music more contemporary to the ’60s. Listen, in particular, for the ride cymbal on the drums, which often feels irregular, as if Murray is missing a stroke every so often. Also, listen for moments where the bass feels clumsy (sounds to me like Grimes is stumbling or tripping as he walks).
I know many of you had been expecting a more bass-centric view of jazz than I’ve offered so far… I promise I’ll get there soon enough!
Dan
Hi, thanks for another exciting album. Actually I’ve only gotten to listening to the first track so far because I was so excited I had to find this reference. “Going Home” was also the melody around which Dvorak wrote the second movement to his New World Symphony. I think the musicians on this album were familiar with the piece because their performance really reminds me of the Dvorak, particularly in the piano solo at the end. Compare 3:30 on the track to 3:32 in this video of Dvorak’s New World:
I’m not familiar enough with a traditional setting of the song to know whether Cobbs and Dvorak were both inspired by the same chord progression in that or if Cobbs wanted to reference the Dvorak, but it seems more likely to me that it was the latter. Either way makes me happy.
Now off to listen to the rest of the album.
Annie!
thanks for keeping up with the blog!
I’m not positive, as I don’t know the folk song “Goin’ Home” too well… but I thought that the part you are pointing to is the written bridge of the folk tune. If so, that explains why both the Cobbs solo and the Dvorak are using the same material.
I could be wrong though… just thought the simplest answer might be enough!
dan