Introduction
by Nicola Conte
The intro says
"Jazz from Canada" but from the first
bars of Emile Normand's dark, percussive version
Horace Silver's timeless Senor Blues, we know we
are deep into our jazz territory. The vibe is
mostly modal, with a pervasive Eastern influence,
particularly in the mysterious groove of Pierre
Leduc's Soya and the brilliant 6/8 vamps of Pierre
Nadeau on Consuelo. They share that cool swinging
feel with the Latin workouts of Emile Normand and
Maynard Ferguson but all the music here, whether
from the 60s or the 70s, has obviously been
carefully selected for it's soulful edge.
Many of these recordings have remained hidden in
the CBC archives for years and I'm aware there's
more waiting to be discovered. But start with the
music you have in your hands, that's what needs to
be heard right now! -- Nicola Conte
Liner
note by Tim Perlich
Ready
or not, you're about to be dazzled by an exciting
set of innovative modern jazz so rare that much of
it is unknown even in Canada where it was
recorded. That's right, this strikingly
fresh-sounding collection of modal movers,
spiritual swingers and Latin-flavoured cookers
from the late 60s and early 70s represents an
important but little-known chapter in Canadian
music history.
The
Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, CBC radio
sought out the finest jazz musicians in Canada --
both celebrated icons like Oscar Peterson, Maynard
Ferguson and Kenny Wheeler in addition to many
uniquely gifted but lesser known talents -- and
recorded them improvising live in a small combo
setting for national broadcast. A few vinyl LPs of
each session were pressed up and made available to
the public but most this incredible music has
remained in the CBC's archive gathering dust for
more than 30 years.
In
fact, were it not for a chance discovery of a Fred
Stone LP released by the CBC as part of their
Radio-Canada International (RCI) jazz series, we
might never had cause to check what hidden
treasures lay buried in the CBC vaults. Flipping
over a generic yellowy-orange LP emblazoned with
the CBC radio logo to see the goateed Fred Stone
looking dead serious in his swank vested
turtleneck, I felt that familiar twinge which all
vinyl junkies know.
That album I'd stumbled upon, inauspiciously
titled "The Music Of Fred Stone"
documented the adventurously creative outpouring
of a gifted composer and an awesome force on the
flugelhorn. Late great Toronto-born Fred Stone got
his start playing in various CBC radio orchestras
before moving through the jazz groups of Ron
Collier, Phil Nimmons, Rob McConnell and even
doing a stint with Can-rock icons Lighthouse.
Although there may have been a bit more prestige
for Stone in being the first Canadian to be hired
by the Duke Ellington Orchestra in 1970. The
deceptively banal looking album Fred Stone
recorded two years later for CBC's Radio Canada
International (RCI) series definitely wasn't your
average budget-line bargain bin fodder. Apart from
Stone's own brilliantly conceived compositions
like the elegant Prokofiev-inspired Troika, his
masterful reworking of Maurice Jarre's memorable
Theme from Lawrence of Arabia well displayed his
considerable arranging skills and inspired
musicianship. Perhaps the most jarring aspect of
the recording is that the music doesn't sound
dated. It seems like it could've been cut
yesterday.
It's
immediately obvious this wasn't any sort of
slap-dash job geared for lowest common denominator
appeal. But it's doubtful whether this incredible
music ever reached its intended audience.
Infrequent CBC broadcasts were the only real
airplay these jazz recordings in the RCI series
ever received. The LPs were manufactured in small
quantities and weren't made available for play on
commercial radio nor were they distributed to
conventional record retailers. Instead they were
sold by mail order through the CBC and made
available at select gift shops in CBC office
buildings across the country which made this
already underexposed music that much more
difficult to obtain. So while the artists involved
were given the freedom to record their work as
they saw fit, the downside was that relatively few
people ever got to hear the debut of Kathryn
Moses.
Credited
with providing the tastefully sonorous yet
striking flute features on Fred Stone's RCI
recording, Moses would later enjoy notoriety on
the jazz dance scene for her spirited classic
Music In My Heart. The Oklahoma-born Moses, once a
promising teen flautist with the Oklahoma Symphony
Orchestra, moved to Toronto in 67 with her then
husband, trumpeter Ted Moses, and immediately
immersed herself in the city's lively jazz and
folk scene notably recording and playing with
Bruce Cockburn and Murray McLaughlin. In 76, Moses
formed her own quartet and cut her self-titled
debut album for the CBC. That whirlwind session
produced the wicked scat scorcher Ready Or Not!
which appropriately doubles as this collection's
title track. "We did the whole album in six
hours!" laughs Moses. "It was the first
recording session of my own so I didn't know what
I was doing but I remember having a really good
time. I'd recently split up with my husband and
was embarking on a whole new chapter in my life,
so the feeling was, ready or not, here I
come!" For her stellar six hours of work,
Moses was presented with the first-ever Canada
Council award for the Best Jazz Recording of 76
and has since gone on to compose and play on
numerous film scores which she continues to this
day.
Just
as Fred Stone's turtleneck was the first tip to a
major discovery, the outrageous sideburn action Al
Michalek was sporting on the back cover of his
Voices LP screamed "BUY!" the second I
spotted it amongst some acid house singles a
popular Toronto DJ happened to be unloading at a
record sale. What a thrill to drop needle on the
Humber College music professor's debut to find
that the entire album was elegantly deep. And the
title track? Pure magic.
No
such scientific sleeve decoding is needed when
you're dealing with a rare Maynard Ferguson Sextet
live recording from one of the Down Beat
poll-topping trumpeter's two taped performances as
part of the Expo 67 Canadian centennial
celebrations in Montreal. By then, Verdun's
favourite son hadn't resided in Montreal for
almost 20 years, popping up more in local cinemas
than clubs since he created the music for more
than 40 films during
his stint as a soundtrack go-to guy in Hollywood.
The rousing My Sister shows that even after all of
his fabulous film work, Ferguson could still rock
the house ragged with just his trusty horn and
five robust young cats including rising star Brian
Barley on tenor saxophone.
It
was Ferguson who gave another promising
saxophonist, Nick Ayoub his first big break in
1943 and soon the Trois-Rivières teen's adeptness
on all the reed instruments was getting him
Montreal gigs in the big bands of Johnny Holmes,
Butch Watanabe and others which continued
throughout the 40s.After spending much of the 50s
as a studio session man for hire, Ayoub began
leading his own bands, typically involving
under-recorded pianist Art Roberts. It's Ayoub's
quintet with Roberts that recorded The Music Of
Nick Ayoub for the CBC in 1977 which remains one
of the most sought-after RCI titles. While many
serious jazz-dance DJs have for years been
dropping the track Desert Boots from this session,
considerably fewer people are up on the moody
majestic Saphir which showcases Ayoub's superb
songcraft and exceptional arranging skills. Stay
tuned for more of Ayoub's enchanting excursions to
come.
Somehow
the name Billy Robinson sounded vaguely familiar
to me when I came across the Evolution's Blend LP
he recorded for RCI in 72 and it should have. The
warm-toned tenor saxophonist from Fort Worth whom
Freddie Hubbard dubbed "The Mystic" had
played with Charles Mingus and Sonny Rollins prior
to being invited by Archie Shepp to participate in
the monumental Attica Blues sessions. Robinson
eventually headed north and took up residence in
Canada's capital city, Ottawa which is close
enough to Montreal to make weekend jaunts for gigs
with pianist Sadik Hakim. It was there in 1972
that Robinson recorded the spiritually uplifting
Evolution's Blend album, a magnificent showcase
for his masterful compositions and timeless sound.
"I've always found inspiration in ancient
things," explains Robinson currently making
plans to return to the recording studio,
"Those smells, that sculpture and
architecture are what fire my imagination. Music
is my way of reconnecting with the distant
past" And perhaps it points the way to the
future as well. In recent years, Robinson's Quebec
On My Mind has become a sampling favourite of
sussed hiphop headz and deep digging DJs who can't
get enough of the neck-snapping beats dropped by
drummer Jim Norman. However the album's real
head-turner is The Family which charges like some
unissued Strata-East workout thanks in part to the
righteous rhythmic push of pianist Pierre Leduc, a
groundfloor veteran of the Montreal jazz scene.
Even
before the Montreal-born Leduc made his impressive
debut at the 1963 Montreal Jazz Festival, the
hard-pounding piano prodigy had been developing a
reputation on the Montreal club circuit since his
mid-teens, most notably at Casa Loma's Le Jazz Hot
room where his trio with drummer Emile
"Cisco" Normand and bassist Michel
Donato became the pick-up band of choice for
touring US jazz greats like Coleman Hawkins and
Pepper Adams. Leduc eventually became an in-demand
musical director and accompanist for Quebec
pop stars with exceptionally good taste before he
temporarily bid adieu to the jazz scene, Leduc
gave a tour-de-force performance with his quartet
as part of Montreal's Expo 67 hoedown fortuitously
recorded for the RCI series. The entrancing
Eastern-tinged Soya -- a stylish 7/4 groover
composed by Leduc after a trip to a Chinese
restaurant -- was recently resurrected by
influential BBC Radio One personality Gilles
Peterson who certainly knows a quality
floor-filler when he hears one. Meanwhile, Leduc's
charismatic sideman, Windsor-born drummer Emile
"Cisco" Normand -- who interned with
Yusef Lateef in Detroit prior to taking the
Montreal jazz scene by storm in 1960 -- eventually
stepped out from behind the kit and began banging
away at the vibes with combos of his own. His
rousing rip through the Horace Silver's classic
Senor Blues proves he's much more than just an
explosive drum basher. You can hear the more
sensitive side of Normand's percussive attack with
his old pal Michel Donato as they give a Latin
lilt to pianist Pierre Nadeau's Consuelo.
According to Normand, now happily retired in
Montreal, this one RCI collabo in January 1970 was
the
first and last time he saw Nadeau who apparently
went back to writing and arranging
for Quebecois rock celebrities.
Even
more of a conundrum is the Electric Ninja Group
who contributed one-side to the Pacific Rim split
RCI album with Vancouver proto-worldbeat
fusionists The Sunship Ensemble and then, true to
their handle, quietly vanished without a trace.
Evidently the Ninja's mainman, Montreal-born
pianist Rick Kitaeff, formed his ensemble in Japan
and the Pacific Rim project was meant to be a
hands-across-the-water cultural exchange. We
can
all be thankful that those enigmatic Electric
Ninjas left us with the Arkestrally tweaked Star
Of India as a parting gift. |
