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(From Jazz Monthly Vol. 12, No. 11, January 1967) Albert Ayler at L.S.E. ON November 15th, the Albert Ayler quintet—tenor-saxophone, trumpet, violin, bass and drums—appeared before a rather baffled audience at the London School of Economics. The occasion was one of BBC-2’s “Jazz goes to college” series, and the event should presumably hit the TV screen in the near future. The BBC are showing commendable initiative in this series (only recently, Sonny Rollins and Max Roach taped a similar concert), so one must cross fingers and hope that Ayler’s group has not scared them off.
Each item performed followed a basic pattern. The front-line played a succession of themes, each introduced by Albert Ayler; then, perhaps, a round of brief solos and finally a partial recapitulation. The nature of the themes and their interpretation can only be compared to a New Orleans band, in particular to the marches and dirges of a brass band of the Eureka type.
In his lead work (to use the traditional terminology), Donald Ayler asserted himself more convincingly than on record. His tone—not so coarse as expected but still closer to that of a parade trumpeter than to anyone else—completely lacks the declamatory brilliance and rich vibrato of the post-Armstrong era. Likewise his brother’s sound, even down to the quavering vibrato, resembles that of the Eureka’s Manuel Paul. The violin took on the clarinet’s role, weaving around and above the other two. These ensemble passages were generally kept within the New Orleans harmonic idiom, though with dissonant moments which naturally reflected the sophisticated musicianship of the 1960s. Against this strict counterpoint, the rhythm section ignored metric considerations entirely. William Folwell retained his bow for the whole evening, sawing furiously away to provide a background of swirling colours. Drummer Beaver Harris added the rhythmic colouring, skimming over his kit in the manner of Elvin Jones and following the shifting dynamics with minute precision—but without Jones’s overall allegiance to a regular beat.
Who could have foretold this New Orleans revival, nearly twenty-five years after Bunk Johnson acquired his new teeth? That it has not occurred accidentally is proved by an interview with the brothers published in the Down Beat of November 17th. So far this concept is confined to one group, though the idea of building a composition around several themes on a cue from the leader is also adopted by Don Cherry (cf. Blue Note BLP 4226). In their latest work, both Cherry and Tyler relegate the solo statement to a minor position in favour of collective interplay—the familiar New Orleans’ allocation of priorities.
The solos of the Ayler brothers cannot possibly be judged by the standards of Armstrong, Ornette Coleman or even of the Albert Ayler of earlier LPs. Now there is absolutely no attempt at the merest kind of structure; what they play is unmitigated, relentless noise. Compared with the function of the bass and drums, the solos provide the emotional colouring—violent and often hysterical—to contrast with the sobriety of the thematic material.
Certainly the reception was mixed. Some hated the music; some thought it limited. Those who reject anything faintly different dismissed the group out of hand. In a complementary gesture, some who respond exclusively to the latest sounds (until later ones come along) were disappointed: after all, they had not gone to the L.S.E. just to hear a Trad. band. Myself, I loved it; but then I always have had a weakness for such bands as the Eureka. And make no mistake, the ensemble playing is everything one could wish for: clean, well-integrated and with untold imaginative touches. The relationship between melody and rhythm fascinates and, of course, is quite revolutionary. Here I must mention the violinist, Michael Sampson. Those who have heard Coleman will recognise the astringent approach, but Sampson has a stronger orthodox technique. In addition, he took the one solo of the evening that developed a theme used by the ensemble.
Limitations are obvious: the lack of melodic variety and, surprisingly, the lack of adventure, of reaching into the unknown. The truth is that here is an instance of musical innovators suddenly stumbling upon a self-contained form. Nothing however can mask the present validity of their music. Ayler now needs to expand, and there is every reason to suppose that he will. Prophecy is usually pointless, but in time perhaps the ensembles will become freer—more like one of the old Albert Ayler solos—and the dichotomy between style and solo will dissolve into a total sound where melody, solo, rhythm, noise all interact. RONALD ATKINS *** As noted elsewhere, the BBC were scared off by Albert Ayler, refused to broadcast the concert and later destroyed the tape. Humphrey Lyttelton, who introduced the programmes in the Jazz Goes to College series, later recalled the Ayler concert at the L.S.E. in his book, Take It From The Top (London: Robson Books, 1975): |
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