The Mourning of a Star (Keith Jarrett, 1971)

Keith Jarrett, piano

(also soprano saxophone, tenor recorder, 

steel drums, and conga drums)

Charlie Haden, bass 

(also steel drums)

Paul Motian, drums 

(also steel drums and conga drums)

Another underrated album by an underrated group, composed of not-so-underrated players. By this point, Keith Jarrett has become a true legend of jazz piano, especially in his 1970's European Quartet with Jan Garbarek and his ubiquitous Standards Trio with Jack DeJohnette and the late Gary Peacock. However, he also recorded often with his American Quartet with saxophonist Dewey Redman, of which this trio was the rhythm section. Jarrett's work with Charlie Haden and Paul Motian doesn't get nearly as much attention as the rest of his music, but it is often clear why; as seen from the personnel listing above, Jarrett used this group (as a trio or quartet) as a way to try different things. It's not widely known that early in his career, alongside piano, Jarrett also played soprano saxophone. I've heard mixed feelings about his soprano playing, but I personally think it's great. He clearly knows what he's doing, even if it isn't his first instrument. I guess he quit to focus more on piano, and deservedly so.

The unit of Keith Jarrett, Charlie Haden, and Paul Motian is another underrated trio that is fortunately starting to gain more recognition. Bassist Charlie Haden was known for his groundbreaking work with the Ornette Coleman quartet. Since Coleman's music did not rely on prewritten harmonies, Haden listened to the soloist in order to truly accompany in the moment, rather than simply walking a bassline. This made him an ideal choice for Jarrett's early trio, which often not only abandoned chord changes, like Coleman's group, but also abandoned strict time. Jarrett also often utilized Haden's magnificent tone, emphasized by a beautifully understated method of soloing. Jarrett found a similarly understated drummer in Paul Motian; while he is best known for a five-year stint with pianist Bill Evans, he spent eleven years with Jarrett. It was with Jarrett that Motian displayed his full capabilities, from the most delicate balladry to the most powerful free-time thrashing. Behind it all, though, is the true weight in everything he played. Haden and Motian in particular would prove a solid rhythm team for many other musicians, from pianists Paul Bley and Geri Allen to Haden's own Liberation Music Orchestra.

(It's also worth mentioning that this is the first album I've reviewed after listening on vinyl; the rest I've listened to on Spotify. This is also on Spotify, but the old, grainy copy I bought on vinyl makes it much more of an experience.)

Compared to Jarrett's debut recording (also with Haden and Motian), Life Between the Exit Signs, this record is much more of a sprawling mess (albeit a glorious one), and this is made clear from the first track, Follow the Crooked Path. From the very brief opening theme, all the layers on this track are held together by a very loose thread. Jarrett's piano is cacophonous, dense, and borderline unlistenable, yet it's hard not to be sucked in. His trademark vocalizing is heard in large, loud helpings as he gives the keyboard a thrashing. A unique effect is provided by some banging steel drums (probably by Motian) superimposed over the piano solo. Once Jarrett is through, the last half of the track centers on Haden's bass solo alongside more cacophonous steel drums. The track ends with a nice bit of Jarrett's soprano sax.

As a complete contrast, Interlude No. 3 features some beautiful, quiet solo work from Jarrett. It's a rather astounding look at just how much Jarrett's playing had matured in five years; it's completely serious and full of emotional depth, yet more relaxing than commanding. It also works as a breather from the clustered nature of the opening. Interlude No. 1, on the other hand, starts very amateurishly with Jarrett on recorder and Motian on steel drums. Both sound like they have no idea what they're doing, until Haden glues them together with some bowed bass in the upper register. The proceedings reach a quick climax when Jarrett holds a note and sings through the recorder simultaneously, creating a powerful, almost spiritual effect. Interlude No. 2 is honestly hilarious to me in a very playful way. We hear more of Jarrett's recorder, albeit experimenting more with noise than anything else. While Jarrett's lines are rising, Haden provides the icing on the cake with some crazy sliding sounds in the opposite direction.

Despite Jarrett's early love of more avant-garde playing, he also shines on pieces with a bright gospel flavor; here, it's Standing Outside, a joyful romp featuring Motian on congas. This piece shows without a doubt that happiness and joy is not below an artist as Keith Jarrett; this piece is full of depth and emotion, but not in a pretentious or "academic" way. To me, the piece evokes earth-tone watercolor paintings, like the ones used as backgrounds in Peanuts specials. In that way, it is very nostalgic for me. Like the last album I reviewed, Sing Me Softly of the Blues, this was recorded at Atlantic, so I get to enjoy more nostalgically recorded piano that evokes Vince Guaraldi. Here, however, the similarity to Guaraldi's actual music is more upfront, with a simplicity and driving energy that evokes a playground on a cloudy autumn afternoon.

The same can be said for the only cover of the set, Joni Mitchell's All I Want. The Guaraldi-esque vibe is given a unique effect with bits of overdubbed recorder, furthering the emotional drive of the song. It's brief, but it does a good job at introducing Side 2 of the record. It's also worth mentioning that Joni Mitchell's music is a perfect match for someone like Jarrett, who often reveals part of his playing akin to a folk musician such as Mitchell. It's his work on pieces like Standing Outside, All I Want and others that heavily influenced modern musicians such as Jacob Collier. Both songs are enhanced for me by listening on vinyl, and both are highlights.

Trust combines a gospel-esque melody next to more open avant-garde tendencies, with fluid transitions between the two. The title fittingly describes the tremendous rapport and friendship between the three men after playing together for five years. Jarrett's flights of fancy are accompanied beautifully by Haden and Motian, which is often hard to notice behind the mad plights of piano (and often just Jarrett screaming). The accompaniment does become more present when Jarrett switches from long single-note runs to more powerful block chords. On the whole, though, this is one of the weaker tracks because it didn't really keep my attention the whole time.

They took their each other's photos! (except Paul's for whatever reason)

The closing track, Sympathy, works as a foil to Trust, which closes Side 1. The track features a lengthy solo introduction by Jarrett, which despite its brevity and energy, is ultimately more beautiful than anything else. A perfect showcase of a master pianist. When Haden and Motian enter, the mood is enhanced by the two rather than sacrificed; in particular, Motian's beautiful brush and cymbal work is heavily featured. The whole thing captures the vibe of ballads played by Bill Evans when Motian was in the band, but adds a layer of mystery rather than simply imitating the sound. The only curiosity is the abrupt ending, which actually works considerably well; the track as a whole works better than its companion, Trust.

Everything That Lives Laments is another piece of astounding depth. The theme, brief and beautiful, is played by Jarrett on piano, but the real feature is Haden's heart-wrenching bass solo. Haden always had a gift of stark simplicity, and here his playing is crystalized in terms of content, but much darker in timbre. I resent that on my vinyl copy, the record skips right as Jarrett plays the last chord of the theme, which kind of ruins it, but that's only a minor complaint. An absolutely beautiful and emotional gem.

Ornette Coleman, mentioned earlier, generated controversy by incorporating the trumpet and violin into his performances; he was not trained in either instrument, and his violin playing especially is very difficult to listen to. However, that's not the issue with Jarrett's soprano sax playing. As unconventional as he might sound, he at least knows his way all around the instrument and has a very sinewy, piercingly beautiful tone. His soprano is showcased here on Traces of You, in which Motian supplies some of his best, spaciest playing on the album. Jarrett is no slouch; above all else, he shows true intention and thought with every note he plays. Not to mention, we get to hear Haden in his element as a true accompanist, much like his role in the Ornette Coleman group. His solo is also very thoughtful, with tons of weight coming from the simplest of melodic material. Overall, this track is a highlight for me.

Jarrett playing soprano sax.

Probably the biggest highlight is the title track; it's the longest at over nine minutes, but for almost that long it sustains the bright gospel feel of the other two such tracks. As another Jarrett composition, it reflects the rhythms and harmonic palate of artists like Joni Mitchell and the Beatles. While a perfect showcase for Jarrett the gospel player, it also works quite well in showcasing Haden's rock-solid accompaniment and Motian's brilliant drum landscapes. Around the three-minute mark, Jarrett momentarily drops out to cue a vamp for the rest of the track. From that point on, it's just a lot of fun to hear the band go from creating suspense to letting Jarrett fly loose on a more abstract improvised path. No matter how far Jarrett or anyone else goes, however, the groove always neatly glues everything together beautifully. What's particularly special about this track is that, being the title track, it perfectly sums up what the album is about: having a good time and mixing things up a little bit.

Overall, this album is a mixed bag. Its worst/weakest cuts are entertaining but inconsistent, while its high spots really hit high. Jarrett is comfortable here in any manner of playing, but it's especially his driving gospel feel and his slower lyrical playing that makes the most impact. His soprano playing on this album is also a high spot, thoughtful and flowing. The band is stellar; Motian proves himself to be a master at understatement at any dynamic, and Haden is a perfect anchor for Jarrett's freewheeling escapades and Motian's rhythmic fluidity. While the album is very mixed quality, I think the point of it was to just try out different things and see how well they worked together. As a result, the album is a vibrant mixture of everything Keith Jarrett was about at the time; all the tracks are great in themselves, but only some of them work as well in the grand scheme of the album. 7/10.

Track listing:

1. Follow the Crooked Path (Though It Be Longer)

2. Interlude No. 3

3. Standing Outside

4. Everything That Lives Laments

5. Interlude No. 1

6. Trust

7. All I Want

8. Traces of You

9. The Mourning of A Star

10. Interlude No. 2

11. Sympathy

Further reading:

Sam Newsome on Keith Jarrett's soprano playing

An extensive history on Keith Jarrett's trio with Charlie Haden and Paul Motian

Sing Me Softly of the Blues (Art Farmer, 1965)

 

Art Farmer, flugelhorn

Steve Kuhn, piano

Steve Swallow, bass

Pete La Roca, drums

Aside from the undersung rhythm section here, this will also highlight the playing of Art Farmer, an understated and less well-known trumpet player compared to the likes of Miles Davis and Freddie Hubbard. In the 1960's he switched exclusively to flugelhorn (except for big-band section work on trumpet), giving his already uniquely introverted playing a finishing touch. Aside from co-leading the Jazztet with the great Benny Golson, Farmer led his own stellar quartet, highlighting his mellower sound and featuring Jim Hall on guitar. Steve Swallow was a member of this group, soon to be joined by Pete La Roca on drums; this incarnation of the group recorded To Sweden with Love, released in 1964. Soon, when Jim Hall left, they were joined by close friend Steve Kuhn on piano, laying the groundwork for this fantastic album.

The presence of Carla Bley was felt often in the 1960's, despite not appearing on a recording until Gary Burton recorded her work A Genuine Tong Funeral in 1967. Rather, her compositions appeared regularly on albums featuring her first husband, pianist Paul Bley, and her frequent lover, bassist Steve Swallow. Two of her compositions appear here: Ad Infinitum and a stellar debut recording of the title track, Sing Me Softly of the Blues. Both pieces are great choices to start the album with, as they both feel unresolved and keep the listener's attention, making them crave more.

The title track starts slow, featuring spare playing from Kuhn and a delicate rendering of the melody by Farmer. While revealing the quirkiness of Bley's writing, it is also a superb showcase for this group to play with emotion, fervor, and even humor. Not to mention, the performance also takes an arc, starting soft and eventually becoming more powerful. Farmer provides an ingenious solo that proves him capable of delivering quiet intensity and playing only what needs to be played. As the tempo and dynamic level picks up, the rug is suddenly pulled out, and Kuhn trickles up the keyboard to start his solo. His playing here combines delicate pianistic harmonies with a burning insistence, as well as a great sense of buildup matched by his rhythm partners Swallow and La Roca. His final chorus is one of the great climaxes in jazz, ending in a giant booming from the bottom keys that seamlessly transitions back to the quiet ballad feel from the beginning. Likewise, the ending of the piece transitions seamlessly to the next track.

While the title track is a highlight, I like Ad Infinitum even better. While being a great piece with a beguiling melody from Bley, I also believe the resulting performance is a gold standard of intensity and interaction in jazz, period. Nowhere is this more evident than Kuhn's outstanding solo, which is actually more of a group effort. Kuhn's playing combines prodding dissonances, sharp attacks, yearning pianisms, and some smearing clusters pulled seemingly from nowhere. What tops it all off, though, is that these gestures are not random. Together, they serve compositional purpose in two ways: first, they fit the driving tone of the piece, and second, their coherence makes the solo a solid composition in itself. To top it all off, Swallow's deep pocket and La Roca's driving, swirling waltz time and cymbal work mesh perfectly with Kuhn's eccentric playing. A prime example not just of this trio, but of what jazz trio playing should be. Call me hypocritical, but words cannot accurately describe this miracle.

Farmer's solo, while not as dissonant or harsh, is nonetheless driving and intense in its own way. Farmer is often compared to Miles Davis, as they both were masters at saying the most with as few notes as possible. The difference is that Farmer is much more liquid and flowing in his playing, and his lines have more unique shapes. His playing here even shows a hint of turbulence, and his final chorus displays some dynamic and powerful high notes that aren't annoyingly brassy. Farmer's bravado is complimented perfectly by Steve Kuhn's comping underneath. It's important to note that while Farmer and Kuhn sound completely different, often like they're at odds with each other, they are both sympathetic musicians; Kuhn especially complements Farmer well when playing behind him, rather than overpowering him. One might even say Kuhn is a perfect foil for Farmer, taking his trumpet concept and roughly translating it to the piano in a more aggressive manner. Either way, this rendition of Ad Infinitum is a true masterpiece of small-group jazz playing. Go listen to it.

While the first two tracks are masterful exercises in building and maintaining intensity, the next track, Farmer's arrangement (I believe) of the traditional Petite Belle, is more somber and relaxed. Farmer's solo flugelhorn intro brings in the constant bossa nova rhythm that lasts for the entire song. Credit must be given to Pete La Roca, who, while able to deliver bombastic and spontaneous drum performances, could also maintain a nonstop rhythm and keep an unwavering sense of time. Farmer provides a solo full of subtlety, nuance, and ultimately beauty, while Kuhn provides a quirky piano solo that is equally as subtle. While featuring such genius playing, this track also lets me truly appreciate the recording quality. While not as high as other albums of the time, it has its own charm; the piano especially has a warm, nostalgic sound that for me, evokes the music of Vince Guaraldi.

The next track marks the return of the energy heard at the beginning: a completely different version of Pete La Roca's Tears Come From Heaven, listed here simply as Tears. While the version on Basra is more easygoing and is more of a mood piece, here it is taken at a breakneck tempo in a completely different key. While the faster tempo loses the spiritual mystery of the other version, it gains an equally mysterious intensity, boosted by Farmer's powerful reading of the melody. Farmer shows to be capable at blistering fast tempos while still maintaining his cool, and Kuhn creates another masterpiece of rhythm, intensity and interaction. Trying to describe it is basically pointless, so again, just go listen to it. You won't be sorry. Pete La Roca then takes off with his main feature on the album, an open drum solo featuring no piano or bass, unlike the version on Basra. La Roca takes advantage of the openness and bends time to his will, giving a magnificent pounding to the drum kit.

The band then tackles a more traditional jazz ballad, Dizzy Gillespie's I Waited For You, with another interpretation that goes beyond traditional performance. For one, both Farmer and Kuhn revel in the beautiful piece, Farmer with his gorgeous reading of the melody (ballads were a strong spot for him) and Kuhn with his lush, impressionistic, nearly Bill Evans-like accompaniment. As the first soloist, though, Kuhn goes a step beyond simply imitating Evans, with another brilliant performance straddling prancing runs and powerful blocked chords. Farmer, in his brief solo, expertly balances rich subtlety with powerfully bubbling volcanic eruption.

The album ends on an easygoing note with La Roca's blues One for Majid; this one features the whole band. Despite his brilliant playing throughout, Farmer shows that perhaps he is most in his element when playing a good old-fashioned blues progression. His lush tone on flugelhorn dominates his uniquely understated lines, resulting in a fiery, yet cool and bluesy sound. The whole solo is just so wonderfully crisp, and immensely pleasurable to listen to. Kuhn makes with an impression of a blues-drenched Herbie Hancock before adding his own subtle twists and turns. Here, Swallow gets his only solo on the album, which is probably for the best since the bass isn't that high in the mix. Despite that, Swallow does not disappoint, offering above all else a keen sense of rhythm and swing. La Roca offers a final remark with a brief but power-packed solo, highlighting a unique sound on the snare.

Probably what makes this album so special for me is that despite its varied and accessible material, it cannot be categorized alongside anything else happening at the time it was made. It is a vibe in itself, and I haven't heard many albums that have quite the same atmosphere as it does. Another thing about the album is that it's a masterpiece in pacing. Track 1 is mysterious and hints at the barrage to come; Track 2 is said barrage; Track 3 is gentler, giving the listener a breather. Track 4 returns to all-out intensity; Track 5 is more like Track 1, tranquil yet energetic and driving. And finally, the closer is another relaxed number that leaves the listener feeling good about themselves.

Overall, this album is a combination of many contrasting qualities: elegance, abandon, raw intensity, intimacy, and some fine playing all around. The album mostly revolves around the pairing of frontmen Farmer and Kuhn; while it seems like a potentially dangerous combination, Kuhn proves himself to be an adept foil to Farmer's straight man role, but knows when to cut back and give more space to the leader. Farmer's playing throughout is inspired and full of warmth while also displaying a burning quality. Despite his little solo space on the album, Pete La Roca especially dazzles with his bombastic drumming style that, while soloistic in itself, is above all sympathetic alongside Kuhn and Swallow. The second track, Ad Infinitum, is a bona-fide masterpiece in jazz quartet playing. The band has fantastic chemistry throughout, and this album is just as good, if not better, than Basra. Strongly recommended. 10/10.

Track listing:

1. Sing Me Softly of the Blues

2. Ad Infinitum

3. Petite Belle

4. Tears

5. I Waited For You

6. One for Majid