SOUND PROJECTIONS
AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE
EDITOR: KOFI NATAMBU
FALL, 2016
VOLUME THREE NUMBER TWO
ERIC DOLPHYAN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE
EDITOR: KOFI NATAMBU
FALL, 2016
VOLUME THREE NUMBER TWO
Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:
BOBBY HUTCHERSON
September 10-16
GEORGE E. LEWIS
September 17-23
JAMES BLOOD ULMER
September 24-30
RACHELLE FERRELL
October 1-7
ANDREW HILL
October 8-14
CARMEN McRAE
(October 15-21)
PRINCE
(October 22-28)
LIANNE LA HAVAS
(October 29-November 4)
ANDRA DAY
(November 5-November 11)
ARCHIE SHEPP
(November 12-18)
WORLD SAXOPHONE QUARTET
(November 19-25)
ART BLAKEY
(November 26-December 2)
https://www.allaboutjazz.com/art-blakey-the-musical-drummer-art-blakey-by-anton-rasmussen.php
Art Blakey: The Musical Drummer
by
"Jazz Washes Away the Dust of Everyday Life" —Art Blakey
So said, Abdullah Ibn Buhaina (1919-1990), more widely known to the world of jazz by his pre-Islamic name: Art Blakey.
Blakey was my first introduction into the musicality of jazz drumming
and, in some senses, my introduction to a lifelong love of jazz.
Truly
a powerhouse in swing and blues, Blakey led the hard bop playing Jazz
Messengers from the 1950s to the 1980s (recording for Blue Note Records between 1947 and 1964), and holding claim to famous alumni such as Wayne Shorter, Freddie Hubbard, Bill Pierce, Branford Marsalis, and Chuck Mangione, to name but a few.
A Piano Player Turned Drummer
Art Blakey
began drumming, as many people know, in a way that transcends the light
air of his feather bass drumming and soft touch of his ride cymbal
comping: by being held at gunpoint at a Pittsburgh
joint called The Democratic Club in the mid 1930's; forced to give up
his seat at the piano he'd been playing and made to play the drums, this
would begin a six decade career for Blakey as one of jazz drumming's
greats.
The Musical Drummer
Though Blakey was a force to be reckoned with on the drum set, playing in the style of Chick Webb and Big Sid Catlett,
don't let that make you think he couldn't be musical. Yes, yes, we've
all heard the drummer jokes (like, what do they call the guy that hangs
around musicians? A drummer!); but, as a bandleader and drummer, Blakey
always played in the most musical way; he always served the song. In
fact, this is the aspect of his drumming that most draws one in—and the
reason I was drawn to his drumming while studying music theory.
All one has to do is listen to Blakey's arrangements to know just how musical a drummer can be.
Drummer
jokes aside, it's not a rule that drummers can't be musical leaders. In
fact, some of the best drummers in the world are also great band
leaders. And Blakey was one of those great bandleader/great
drummer/great musician types. He played for over 60 years and inspired
generations to look at drumming in a new way: with an ear toward the
music; always placing the music first. But the converse is also true,
According to Chris Kelsey, "Blakey's influence as a bandleader could not
have been nearly so great had he not been such a skilled
instrumentalist." 4
According to Wynton Marsalis, graduate of the Blakey School for Swing and a very notable trumpeter, "On the eighth day, God created Art Blakey." 1 Such was the esteem given to a man greater at his job than most before or after.
A Teacher of Time
Whether
you're listening to the rolling tomtoms and snare solo of "Sakeena's
Vision" (truly a lesson in keeping a straight pulse on the hats while
throwing fills around the kit—signature Blakey to be sure) or you're
desperately trying to find the proper place for the bass drum kicks on Thelonious Monk's "Humph," Blakey is there to teach. And his lessons all come from a place of tremendous experience.
Listening
to 1947's "Humph" and 1981's "Cheryl," one quickly finds that Blakey's
style changed drastically over time and followed the development of
jazz. So, it wouldn't necessarily be fair to say that Blakey had one
style of drumming—in fact, he created many styles during his long
career.
According to John Ramsay,
"When you compare the two [time periods], I think you can hear how
Art's style grew and evolved over the years. The 1947 recording shows a
style more like that of the 1930's and 1940's, whereas the 1981
recording is like that of the be-bop and hard bop style that Art helped
create." 1
And that's really what we get with Art Blakey:
the creation of music from the seat of a drum throne. He always seemed
to be doing something new. To prove Blakey's willingness to be the
first—at anything, really—there's a fun little trivia fact that, in
1960, Blakey's Jazz Messengers actually became the first American jazz
band to play in Japan—this would begin a relationship with the Japanese
people that would persist for decades. 1
An Indestructible Introduction to Musical Drumming
The album that first introduced me to Art Blakey was his last Blue Note Records album, Indestructible (Blue Note, 1965). The lineup for Indestructible consisted of the following players:
Lee Morgan: Trumpet
Curtis Fuller: Trombone
Wayne Shorter: Tenor Saxophone
Cedar Walton: Piano
Reggie Workman: Bass
Art Blakey: Drums
The reason I was likely introduced to Blakey with Indestructible
is because I spent several months while I was at Berklee learning the
drum part to "The Egyptian." The infamous "Blakey Triplets" open up Indestructible
and introduce the listener to what goes on to be a full on be-bop/blues
album with some of the most catching drum work one will find in the
jazz community—and all of it is musical. 3
My
introduction to jazz came at a time when I wanted to learn as much as I
could about music—to me, jazz was all about learning music. So, if jazz
music is the learning musician's go-to genre, there isn't a better
introduction to musical jazz drumming than listening to Art Blakey.
Fortunately,
for those who seek the knowledge Blakey has to offer, there are
countless interviews and conversations with Mr. Blakey around the
Internet. His insight into the world of music will be sure to provide
the same amount of benefit to you as it did to me.
Some Musical Drumming Lessons to Learn
The
following is but a small sample of Blakey's vast discography; however,
there are elements from each of these albums and songs that will lead
one through the musical landscapes that defined Art Blakey's drumming
(all of these recommendations are taken from the outstanding drum
lessons of John Ramsay from Art Blakey's Jazz Messages.) 1
Blakey Triplets: "The Egyptian" Indestructible
(Blue Note, 1965). The intro has a really musically interesting feel to
it. As I noted above, it was this part that introduced me to how
musical Blakey was as a drummer.
Comping with Small Fills: "Lester Left Town" The Big Beat
(Blue Note, 1960). Blakey plays hits on the tomtom during the trumpet
solo—it's a great example of Blakey's ability to comp. Sure, it's a
small part; but, it fits so well into the trumpet solo while the
trumpeter (Hubbard, I believe) hits a staccato one note patterned fill.
Polyrhythmic Ideas: "A Night in Tunisia" A Night in Tunisia
(Blue Note, 1960). During the intro to this song, Blakey develops
polyrhythms with the toms and various percussive elements. Blakey brings
the polyrhythmic feel back during the trumpet solo (using the snare and
crash), which is just fantastic! It was here, during this trumpet solo,
that I first learned how one could musically use the 3 against 4
polyrhythm within a swing context.
Call and Response: "Honeysuckle Rose" The Unique Thelonious Monk (Riverside, 1956). Several times during this song, Blakey and Monk do call and response figures. It's really a fun listen!
1Art Blakey's Jazz Messages, by John Ramsay, (Manhattan Music, 1994)
Art Blakey
Born in 1919, Art Blakey began his musical career, as did many jazz musicians, in the church. The foster son of a devout Seventh Day Adventist Family, Art learned the piano as he learned the Bible, mastering both at an early age.
But as Art himself told it so many times, his career on the piano ended at the wrong end of a pistol when the owner of the Democratic Club—the Pittsburgh nightclub where he was gigging—ordered him off the piano and onto the drums.
Art, then in his early teens and a budding pianist, was usurped by an equally young, Erroll Garner who, as it turned out, was as skilled at the piano as Blakey later was at the drums. The upset turned into
a blessing for Art, launching a career that spanned six decades and nurtured the careers of countless other jazz musicians.
As a young drummer, Art came under the tutelage of legendary drummer and bandleader Chick Webb, serving as his valet. In 1937, Art returned to Pittsburgh, forming his own band, teaming up with Pianist Mary Lou Williams, under whose name the band performed.
From his Pittsburgh gig, Art made his way through the Jazz world. In 1939, he began a three-year gig touring with Fletcher Henderson. After a year in Boston with a steady gig at the Tic Toc club, he joined the great Billy Eckstine, gigging with the likes of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Sarah Vaughn.
In 1948, Art told reporters he had visited Africa, where he learned polyrhythmic drumming and was introduced to Islam, taking the name Abdullah Ibn Buhaina. It was in the late ’40s that Art formed his first Jazz Messengers band, a 17-piece big band.
After a brief gig with Buddy DeFranco, in 1954 Art met up with pianist Horace Silver, altoist Lou Donaldson, trumpeter Clifford Brown, and bassist Curly Russell and recorded “live” at Birdland for Blue Note Records. The following year, Art and Horace Silver co-founded the quintet that became the Jazz Messengers. In 1956, Horace Silver left the band to form his own group leaving the name, the Jazz Messengers, to Art Blakey.
Art’s driving rhythms and his incessant two and four beat on the high hat cymbals were readily identifiable from the outset and remained a constant throughout 35 years of Jazz Messengers bands. What changed constantly was a seeming unending supply of talented sidemen, many of whom went on to become band leaders in their own right.
In the early years luminaries like Clifford Brown, Hank Mobley and Jackie McLean rounded out the band. In 1959, tenor saxophonist Benny Golson joined the quintet and—at Art’s behest—began working on the songbook and recruiting what became one of the timeless Messenger bands—tenor saxman Wayne Shorter, trumpeter Lee Morgan, pianist Bobby Timmons and bassist Jymmie Merritt.
The songs produced from ’59 through the early ’60s became trademarks for the Messengers ?” including Timmon’s Moanin’, Golson’s Along Came Betty and Blues March and Shorter’s Ping Pong.
By this time, the Messengers had become a mainstay on the jazz club circuit and began recording on Blue Note Records. They began touring Europe, with forays into North Africa. In 1960, the Messengers became the first American Jazz band to play in Japan for Japanese audiences. That first Japanese tour was a high point for the band. At the Tokyo airport, the band was greeted by hundreds of fans as Blues March played over their airport intercom and their visit was televised nationally.
In 1961, trombonist Curtis Fuller transformed the Messengers into a proper sextet, giving the band the opportunity to incorporate a big band sound into their hard bop repertoire. Throughout the ’60s, the Messengers remained a mainstay on the jazz scene with jazz greats including Cedar Walton, Chuck Mangione, Keith Jarrett, Reggie Workman, Lucky Thompson and John Hicks. In the jazz drought of the ’70s, the Messengers remained a strong force, with fewer recordings, but no less energy. At a time when many jazz musicians were experimenting with electronics and fusing their music with pop, the Messengers were a mainstay of straight-ahead jazz.
Art’s steadfast belief in jazz music left him well positioned to take advantage of the music’s resurgence in the early ’80s. Art had been working with musicians including trumpeter Valery Ponomarev, tenor Billy Pierce, alto saxman Bobby Watson and pianist James Williams. Trumpeter Wynton Marsalis’ 1980 entrance into the band coincided—and played no small part in—the resurgence of the music in the ’80s.
Throughout the ’80 and until his death in 1990, Art maintained the integrity of the message, incubating the careers of musicians including trumpeters Wallace Rooney and Terence Blanchard, pianists Mulgrew Miller and Donald Brown, bassists Peter Washington and Lonnie Plaxico and many others.
Art died at the age of 71 after a career that spanned six of the best decades of jazz music. The messenger has moved on, but his message lives on in the music of the scores of sidemen whose careers he nurtured, the many other drummers he mentored and countless fans who have been blessed to hear the Messengers’ music.
Source: Yawu Miller
But as Art himself told it so many times, his career on the piano ended at the wrong end of a pistol when the owner of the Democratic Club—the Pittsburgh nightclub where he was gigging—ordered him off the piano and onto the drums.
Art, then in his early teens and a budding pianist, was usurped by an equally young, Erroll Garner who, as it turned out, was as skilled at the piano as Blakey later was at the drums. The upset turned into
a blessing for Art, launching a career that spanned six decades and nurtured the careers of countless other jazz musicians.
As a young drummer, Art came under the tutelage of legendary drummer and bandleader Chick Webb, serving as his valet. In 1937, Art returned to Pittsburgh, forming his own band, teaming up with Pianist Mary Lou Williams, under whose name the band performed.
From his Pittsburgh gig, Art made his way through the Jazz world. In 1939, he began a three-year gig touring with Fletcher Henderson. After a year in Boston with a steady gig at the Tic Toc club, he joined the great Billy Eckstine, gigging with the likes of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Sarah Vaughn.
In 1948, Art told reporters he had visited Africa, where he learned polyrhythmic drumming and was introduced to Islam, taking the name Abdullah Ibn Buhaina. It was in the late ’40s that Art formed his first Jazz Messengers band, a 17-piece big band.
After a brief gig with Buddy DeFranco, in 1954 Art met up with pianist Horace Silver, altoist Lou Donaldson, trumpeter Clifford Brown, and bassist Curly Russell and recorded “live” at Birdland for Blue Note Records. The following year, Art and Horace Silver co-founded the quintet that became the Jazz Messengers. In 1956, Horace Silver left the band to form his own group leaving the name, the Jazz Messengers, to Art Blakey.
Art’s driving rhythms and his incessant two and four beat on the high hat cymbals were readily identifiable from the outset and remained a constant throughout 35 years of Jazz Messengers bands. What changed constantly was a seeming unending supply of talented sidemen, many of whom went on to become band leaders in their own right.
In the early years luminaries like Clifford Brown, Hank Mobley and Jackie McLean rounded out the band. In 1959, tenor saxophonist Benny Golson joined the quintet and—at Art’s behest—began working on the songbook and recruiting what became one of the timeless Messenger bands—tenor saxman Wayne Shorter, trumpeter Lee Morgan, pianist Bobby Timmons and bassist Jymmie Merritt.
The songs produced from ’59 through the early ’60s became trademarks for the Messengers ?” including Timmon’s Moanin’, Golson’s Along Came Betty and Blues March and Shorter’s Ping Pong.
By this time, the Messengers had become a mainstay on the jazz club circuit and began recording on Blue Note Records. They began touring Europe, with forays into North Africa. In 1960, the Messengers became the first American Jazz band to play in Japan for Japanese audiences. That first Japanese tour was a high point for the band. At the Tokyo airport, the band was greeted by hundreds of fans as Blues March played over their airport intercom and their visit was televised nationally.
In 1961, trombonist Curtis Fuller transformed the Messengers into a proper sextet, giving the band the opportunity to incorporate a big band sound into their hard bop repertoire. Throughout the ’60s, the Messengers remained a mainstay on the jazz scene with jazz greats including Cedar Walton, Chuck Mangione, Keith Jarrett, Reggie Workman, Lucky Thompson and John Hicks. In the jazz drought of the ’70s, the Messengers remained a strong force, with fewer recordings, but no less energy. At a time when many jazz musicians were experimenting with electronics and fusing their music with pop, the Messengers were a mainstay of straight-ahead jazz.
Art’s steadfast belief in jazz music left him well positioned to take advantage of the music’s resurgence in the early ’80s. Art had been working with musicians including trumpeter Valery Ponomarev, tenor Billy Pierce, alto saxman Bobby Watson and pianist James Williams. Trumpeter Wynton Marsalis’ 1980 entrance into the band coincided—and played no small part in—the resurgence of the music in the ’80s.
Throughout the ’80 and until his death in 1990, Art maintained the integrity of the message, incubating the careers of musicians including trumpeters Wallace Rooney and Terence Blanchard, pianists Mulgrew Miller and Donald Brown, bassists Peter Washington and Lonnie Plaxico and many others.
Art died at the age of 71 after a career that spanned six of the best decades of jazz music. The messenger has moved on, but his message lives on in the music of the scores of sidemen whose careers he nurtured, the many other drummers he mentored and countless fans who have been blessed to hear the Messengers’ music.
Source: Yawu Miller
https://www.allaboutjazz.com/art-blakey-and-the-jazz-messengers-moanin-by-mike-oppenheim.php
Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers: Moanin'
by MIKE OPPENHEIM
March 19, 2013
AllAboutJazz
Throughout its history, jazz has constantly evolved, developing from and reacting against its earlier incarnations. The mid-1940s saw bebop reinvent jazz as an artist's genre, distinct from the swing style that was the popular music throughout the 1930s and '40s. Bebop was music for listening, not dancing, and the emphasis became virtuosic improvised solos instead of memorable tunes and arrangements. However, the advent of bebop itself led to further reactions and developments within jazz during the 1950s. The newer genre again divided; cool jazz became a reaction against bebop, while hard bop maintained much of the bebop aesthetic.
Hard bop players continued in the bebop idiom by emphasizing improvisation, swinging rhythms, and an aggressive, driving rhythm section. Hard bop artists retained bebop's standard song forms of 12-bar blues and 32-bar forms as well as the preference for small combos consisting of a rhythm section plus one or two horns.
One of the premier hard bop artists and, in fact, the one who coined the term with the 1956 album Hard Bop, is drummer and bandleader Art Blakey. His band, the Jazz Messengers, was an extremely talented and influential group from its conception. Blakey formed the Jazz Messengers in 1953 with pianist Horace Silver, but, with the group's personnel constantly changing, few artists spent an extended period. This frequent turnover resulted in Blakey consistently working with the talented youth on the jazz scene. His band served as a developmental stage for future bandleaders including Hank Mobley, Kenny Dorham, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Chuck Mangione, Jackie McLean, Wayne Shorter, Cedar Walton, Wynton Marsalis, Benny Golson, and Bobby Timmons.
On October 30, 1958 Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers recorded the album Moanin' at Van Gelder Studio in New Jersey for the Blue Note label. Moanin' is one of the most influential and important hard bop albums due to its outstanding compositions, arrangements, and personnel. The quintet at this time consisted of Pittsburgh native Art Blakey on drums, trumpeter Lee Morgan, tenor saxophonist Benny Golson, bassist Jymie Merritt, and pianist Bobby Timmons, all from Philadelphia. Benny Golson wrote the arrangements and contributed four of the album's six tracks. The title track, "Moanin,'" composed by pianist Bobby Timmons, became the greatest hit of Blakey's lengthy career.
Despite being only twenty years old at the time of the recording, Lee Morgan had already spent two years touring with Dizzy Gillespie's band. His improvisational contributions are indispensable to the sound of the album. Morgan and Benny Golson carry the melodic and solo responsibilities as the only horns in the band. Clifford Brown strongly influenced Morgan's style, characterized by an aggressive rhythmic attack, long melodic phrases, and a brassy timbre.
Golson performed with artists such as Tadd Dameron, Lionel Hampton, and Johnny Hodges before joining the Dizzy Gillespie band on a tour of South America from 1956-58, the same years Morgan played for Gillespie. Golson's tunes "Are You Real?," "Along Came Betty," "The Drum Thunder Suite," and "Blues March" lend a notable variety and versatility to Moanin', utilizing varied song forms and musical styles. As an improviser, Golson's smooth tone and fluid lines contrast with and complement the aggressive playing of Lee Morgan.
Morgan and Golson provide a solid frontline, but the Jazz Messengers rhythm section drives the band and propels the soloists to ever higher levels. Pianist Bobby Timmons, a jazz veteran who played with Kenny Dorham's Jazz Prophets, Chet Baker, Sonny Stitt, and Maynard Ferguson, composed the title track and consistently makes his presence felt through his tasteful comping and solos. Duke Ellington's bassist Jimmy Blanton especially inspired the Jazz Messenger's Jymie Merritt, though he studied formally with a member of the Philadelphia Symphony at the Ornstein Music School. His first gigs were with Tadd Dameron, Benny Golson, John Coltrane, Philly Joe Jones, and, from 1955- 57, he toured with blues artist B.B. King, Merritt provides the bass lines and rhythmic punctuation depending on the style of the song and is featured as a soloist several times throughout the album.
Drummer and bandleader Art Blakey provides the aggressive, driving pulse that propels the Jazz Messengers and is so characteristic of the hard bop style. Blakey was 39 at the time of this recording, the Jazz Messengers had already progressed through several lineups, and Blakey remained the only constant. Despite the changing personnel, the Jazz Messengers remained the archetypal hard bop group, characterized by an emphasis on the blues roots of the music. Blakey is notable for his aggressive drumming, use of polyrhythm, musical interactions with his soloists, and his personality. Blakey felt strongly that jazz was underappreciated in America and he sought to bring it to a broader audience. As a bandleader, he provided his musicians with ample space for solos and encouraged them to contribute compositions and arrangements. He constantly added new talent to his band and made no effort to prevent musicians from leaving the Jazz Messengers.
This combination of Pennsylvania born musicians collaborated to record one of the milestones of hard bop. The track listing includes Bobby Timmons' "Moanin';" Benny Golson's "Are You Real?," "Along Came Betty," "The Drum Thunder Suite," and "Blues March;" and a single standard, Arlen and Mercer's "Come Rain or Come Shine." The selection of songs for Moanin' demonstrates the variety of styles in which the Jazz Messengers comfortably performed. The album features aspects of blues, funky jazz, Latin-American music, and New Orleans style marching bands.
The song "Moanin'" is one of the tunes that helped to generate the "soul jazz" style of the late '50s and early '60s. Influenced by gospel, "Moanin'" makes use of call-and-response technique between the piano and horns. Instead of a walking bass, Merritt plays a rhythmically driving bass line, while Blakey plays a swing rhythm with emphasis on beats two and four. Morgan, Golson, and Timmons all play two-chorus solos followed by one chorus by Jymie Merritt. Morgan's solo makes use of blues inflections and maintains its cohesion through the use of catchy riffs. Golson proceeds into his solo from the end of Morgan's and uses a similar riff-based approach. Timmons continues in a bluesy style, alternating piano runs with chords, and progressing to develop upon a series of formulaic riffs. "Moanin'" concludes with the return of the head and a short piano tag. This song is a prime example of funky or soul jazz.
Benny Golson's "Drum Thunder Suite" was composed to satisfy Blakey's desire to record a song using mallets extensively. The suite consists of three contrasting themes. The first theme, "Drum Thunder," is primarily a drum solo with horns playing short melodic ideas in unison (soli writing). The second theme, "Cry a Blue Tear," utilizes a strongly Latin rhythm in the drums. It features a lyrical melody with trumpet and saxophone playing complementary lines. The final theme, "Harlem's Disciples," begins with a funky melody, and then a piano solo sets the stage for the concluding drum solo. "The Drum Thunder Suite" makes interesting use of different stylistic approaches and arranging techniques.
"Blues March," also composed by Benny Golson, is intended to invoke the spirit of a marching band, with the drums clearly marking all four beats of the measure. The rhythm section is minimally invasive in this tune, and all of the listener's attention is drawn to the soloist. Morgan and Golson play typically bluesy choruses, though Bobby Timmons' solo is the highlight of the track. His solo begins with a simple line, developing into an exciting, chordal conclusion.
Golson's "Are You Real?" is a more straightforward hard bop tune featuring a 32-bar chorus and a faster tempo. The standard "Come Rain or Come Shine" is performed with the attention to melody and arrangement not typically associated with hard bop, but is convincingly and faithfully represented by the Jazz Messengers.
Moanin' is one of hard bop's seminal albums due to the extremely high quality of the personnel and compositions featured. The mastery with which Lee Morgan and Benny Golson provide the frontline is further elevated by the solidarity of Timmons, Merritt, and Blakey. It is a testament to the great quality of the performers, compositions, and the hard bop genre. The accessibility of the album is surely a result of Art Blakey's desire to promote jazz as an art at a time when public interest in the music was waning, and the genre as a whole was threatened by the popularity of emerging musical styles such as doo-wop and rock and roll.
Track Listing: Moanin'; Are You Real?; Along Came Betty; The Drum Thunder Suite; Blues March; Come Rain or Come Shine.
Personnel: Art Blakey: drums; Lee Morgan: trumpet; Benny Golson: tenor saxophone; Bobby Timmons: piano; Jymie Merritt: bass.
Year Released: 1958
| Record Label: Blue Note Records
| Style: Straight-ahead/Mainstream
https://www.nationaljazzarchive.co.uk/stories?id=102
Art Blakey: Interview 1
Interview One: One of the Extroverts of Jazz
Les Tomkins talks to the American bandleader and drummer in 1963, 1973, and again in 1987 in three separate interviews.
Interview: 1963
Source: Jazz Professional
Photograph: Courtesy of Bernhard Castiglioni
He has always believed in self–expression—beyond that contained in the distinctive drive of his drumming. During the ’fifties, when the ‘cool school’ was tending to turn jazz playing inwards, the Blakey Messengers were in the forefront of those who blazed a trail back to a more demonstrative, uninhibited idiom. No holds were barred in the struggle to achieve this end.
He has employed verbal as well as musical methods to attack apathy. On more than one occasion in the night clubs he has been known to harangue the customers for paying insufficient attention to the music.
The same persistent bee has been in the Blakey bonnet in relation to concert audiences in the States. “They don’t listen,” he complains. “They are there because it’s supposed to be hip to be there.
They go to be seen—but not to see what you have to offer.” Commercialism also provokes Art.
Referring to TV producers he has come up against who have doubted whether jazz is a saleable product he adds: “This is very bad. This hurts. We need these facilities to reach the public but we run into this kind of obstacle. We’ll overcome it. The breakthrough will come.
Maybe not in my time—but in the time of the fellows coming behind.” He is equally critical of certain musicians when he says: “We have a lot of so–called jazz groups today. They fool the public. It’s got to swing—and it’s always going to be that way. You cannot change it around.
“And there’s no sense in anyone thinking that you can just take a bum out of the street, put a tuxedo on him, send him into a hall and he’s a gentleman. He’s not a gentleman—he’s just a bum with a tuxedo on !” Being dependent for a large portion of his livelihood on club work, he has found cause for dissatisfaction with the way they are organised. As he puts it: “A lot of club–owners get the idea that they know more about music than the musicians and pretty soon they close up.
“There was this guy who owned one of the main clubs in Chicago that was booking most of the attractions.
He got so hip, he thought he was the king–pin, that nobody could do without him. He thought he was the most important thing in jazz. But he wasn’t. He was just a club–owner. He got so that he said he wasn’t going to pay this and that. These people who put prices on the groups always fail miserably. They cannot put a price on talent.
“Then they get some ‘original’ ideas and think they can do a Norman Granz and throw musicians together who have never played together before. And it fails. The public that we have now has gotten used to organised music. You can’t jam any more. There are only a few undisciplined groups out that people come to hear—and that’s only because of their novelty value.
“It’s getting now that record dates have got to be properly organised. And on appearances the group’s got to look good. They used to say of the bebop musician that he was raggetty and looked like a bum. This is passé today. Now they’re looking for groups that look, act, dress and play organised. There’s not too many of them yet, so they try to fill up with these ‘new form’ groups or groups thrown together.
“If the club–owners would co–operate with the agents they’d be much better off. But they’ll go into New York, see the individual musician and talk him into forming a group for a club date. He’ll pick up some men, and they’ve never played together. They go there and play—but the people won’t buy it, and you can’t blame them. Then the club has to charge exorbitant prices to keep going—and the customers won’t buy that either.
“It doesn’t help us to build up more groups. If they’d book the organised groups that the agencies have and wouldn’t book the others unless they got organised, then we’d have much better groups: Because we have plenty, plenty material.
“Musicians are coming from everywhere to New York City, from different parts of the States, from England, Germany, France—all over the world.
“It used to be, a few years ago, that everybody wanted to be the leader of his own group. Now this idea has died out and a lot of musicians are lackadaisical.
Somebody has to come and crack the whip.
“You see, after the Messengers, the MJQ, Horace Silver or any of these well–organised groups come through with their arrangements, it makes it pretty hard for the others. The people know the difference now.
“We battled this thing for years and I guess Horace Silver and I helped to make it this way. We hated to see these jam groups going on all the time. We had to start out like that, with Clifford Brown and Curly Russell at Birdland. Very luckily, we had a group that clicked together and came off with some good, swinging records.
“The organisation of the group wasn’t there then, but the feel and the swing and the fire was there—and very good musicianship. But this only happens once in a while, so we got afraid of this thing. We sat down and decided we’d better organise. I said to Horace: ‘I’m going to organise my group, so you’d better organise yours’.” One other much–disputed topic brings furrows to Blakey’s brow—the labelling, or possibly mis–labelling, of jazz styles. He describes America as “a gimmick country” when it comes to selling a product. “The tags they put on music to make money don’t make sense. They’ve tagged us a lot of things, such as the Hard Boppers, the Funky Bop or the Funky Music of Art Blakey.
“When we went to Japan this kind of advance publicity had given the people a wrong impression of us.
They thought we were going to be some raggetty guys and that we’d walk off the stage or turn our backs on the audience.
“They’d, got this into their minds and then when we got there they found we were altogether different—and they couldn’t understand this. They said: ‘Why do you look like you do—and perform like you do ? We expected. .’ “You see, these tags and gimmicks can sometimes hurt more than they can help. But they’ll continue to have these gimmicks. Who comes up with these ideas ? I don’t know who it is, but it must be someone who’s not playing music.” No furrows, however, when he speaks of a musician in whom he has a special interest. His son—Art Blakey Junior, aged 21—is also playing drums. Blakey Senior smiles warmly, and admits: “Yes, he’s after it too. I didn’t want him in the business at first, but since he decided to come in I didn’t try to stop him. He’s going after it very hard now and he knows it won’t be easy on account of me being in front. But he’s going to go ahead, anyway.
“He has his ideas about it so I’m going to give him all the help I can. They’re going to expect more out of him than they did out of me—but he made the decision on his own: He came out of school and I thought he would be taking up engineering. But the music struck—and that was it.”
Copyright © 1963 Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved.
Art Blakey: Interview 2
Interview Two: Speaks his mind Art Blakey talks in depth about his experience drumming and the different styles of drumming there is to offer. Interview: 1973 Source: Jazz Professional
I
wonder if the people will start dancing again, because jazz is very
much a danceable music. I remember when they did, and that was very
nice, too. But people don’t do it any more—and it’s ‘terrible. I think
it’ll come back.
Now, during the Newport Festival this year, they had a Nostalgia Of The ‘Forties night at the Roseland Ballroom, New York, with Louis Jordan and his Tympany Five, and a group of singing sisters. That was fantastic—it was sold out, and I was very happy to see that. You know, I think everything should go forward, but I don’t like to see things dropped completely, because they did mean something to many people. The same place was packed also when they had Duke Ellington, Woody Herman and Count Basie there one night. It was a good idea; it brought back many memories.
Sure, the Jazz Messengers have played for dancing.
We play a different type of thing in New York, where they have a Latin group, a West Indian group with the steel drums, and our group. And people dance when we play; most of the time they listen, but they also dance. We did a lot of that; it didn’t go too far outside of New York, but it was fantastic.
The thing was, when this type of music came in, people were ignorant of it. Ignorance breeds fear, and fear breeds hate. They couldn’t understand it; so they didn’t want to listen. If they’d listened, they could dance to it.
And now they’re finding out that they can. As I see it, things go in a cycle. They’ll come round to it. It’s nothing but rhythm.
And rock is bringing it around, too. Some of our best musicians are in the rock field now, and they’re putting out good music.. What the rock drummers are doing is: they’re opening up the things that us jazz drummers are playing three or four times as fast, and playing ‘em slower. And it’s real beautiful, the way they got to this idea. Very clever, too. They started out with rhythm ’n’ blues, and it was called “chopping wood”. Now it’s more rhythm; it’s an opening up of the thing. But they’ll come where we’re at. I figure they all come back to the mother same day! For a musician, this is the most fascinating way to play; it’s the most exciting and everything. I’ve checked out the other ways to play—Dixieland, ragtime, rock, rhythm ’n’ blues, I went all through that. :But this is the way for a drummer to really put it together. He doesn’t have to pound himself to death, and he’s got to play with all musicians, because everybody’s got to know where the beat is.
That’s why they had to have the rock beat—so the people could dance. The drummers had gone so far ahead.
Because once a thing starts out, and you say “One, two, three, four”. it really isn’t necessary for you to keep this up; if you do, you lock yourself in, and you don’t get a chance to explore and advance.
Because this is the thing: we use the European harmonic structure; all my life I’ve been trying to bring that together with the African rhythms. I think we’ll have something very fantastic. And today we’re closer to it than ever. When that comes, it’s not that repetitious thing.
The “one” is there, just as sure as you know the sun is rising or setting, but you’re not supposed to be given credit for that—you just explore. It’s gonna take time, that’s all. The Africans have been dancing to that kind of thing for it’s very nice.
When I went to West Africa, it wasn’t to check out any music, though. I went out there just to learn, you know—to find out what was happening. And at that time over there, I accepted Islam. I just wanted to find out other things about life, like a lot of young people do today—“ Why? What am I here for?” I wasn’t satisfied with what I was taught in school, or by my parents. I felt that they were in a little darkness, too, and I had to go there and find out. I found out. I felt much better about it.
If you find out why, it helps to make the real you. I was able to appreciate more where I came from, the system in which I was raised, what I was doing, and how this thing came about. In other words, I would have gone along in ignorance, hating where I came from. I began to see: no America, no jazz; if I hadn’t been in jazz, I wouldn’t be able to travel and see the world. One thing brought on another, you know. That put my head together.
So I came back, and started playing again. We formed the Seventeen Messengers, but that broke up, because big bands were going out, anyway. No, it hadn’t been my idea. The guys put the band together, just picked me out, and said; “You’re the leader.” I never had any hopes of ever being a bandleader—never thought about it.
But I always had a ‘motor mouth’. I had a way of talking to guys; I could organise, and people liked me for that. I’d had a lot of experience in doing that.
I’d been in other big bands, like Billy Eckstine’s.
There were no combos to be in, other than John Kirby, at that time. I worked with Mary Lou Williams; she brought me to New York for the first time, and we played on 52nd Street for a few weeks. Then I played in some small combos in Pittsburgh. I had my own small combo, playing drums, and I had a big band, playing piano, but I never wanted to get into being a bandleader. Just wanted to make a livelihood. But when the guys picked me, I just went out there, did my best, said what I had to say. Being outgoing helped, I guess.
So, when that didn’t work, Horace Silver, ,Kenny Dorham, Doug Watkins, Hank Mobley and I got together, and Horace suggested that we call this the Jazz Messengers—which was beautiful. Again they made me the leader. It started out as a corporation, but that didn’t last too long. They went and formed their groups, leaving me out there to carry on. That’s how I became mostly a leader since 1955.
I thank God for Horace, Kenny and the guys, too—they gave me a big push forward. ‘‘ Because I wasn’t really doing anything for myself before that.
Thelonious Monk was the guy that was keeping me busy, recording and things, but I didn’t care too much about it; I just took the attitude; “Well, here it is.” They came along and gave me that push.
I don’t think musicians ever said Monk was difficult to play with. I think people were saying that, not musicians. Because musicians are the ones who make musicians. And anybody who knew anything about music knew, revered and feared Monk, as far as music is concerned. It was just that the musicians couldn’t get a chance to play with him. Thelonious was very selective, and I was just fortunate he selected me. He’d take me and Bud Powell around, and he’d stop all the band and let Bud play, and let me play.
Sometimes the musicians would get up and walk off the stand; then Bud and I or Thelonious and I would play by ourselves.
He was very outspoken—and they respected him for it. This man was so fantastic; he knew what he wanted to do, and he did it. He just had that personality, that aura about him. I was so happy to play with him, I tried the best I could; and anyway, I was experimenting. He let you experiment all you wanted, and that was good. I learned a lot with him; that helped to develop me quite a bit, at that time. Because coming out of the big band, I didn’t know that much.
See, playing in a combo and playing in a big band is two different things. In a combo, every tub’s got to sit on its own bottom. I was out there to learn. And when you lead a group, you really got to be into it. As far as I’m concerned, I like to hear big bands, but I don’t want to play with ‘em. I’ve had that. If I had a big band, it would have to be something entirely different rhythmically.
Because I get very angry with musicians loafing, and the rhythm is working. You know, the horns just standing around, looking. I mean, I feel that they should write insurance; everybody’s got to get into the act. There shouldn’t be that laying out a chorus or more, while the band is playing. They should be busy creating something, trying to change the music around, or to move it forward.
But this doesn’t happen. Then you’re carrying a lot of dead weight. See, and the drummer is the stoker; he’s got to pull all this weight.
Some guys, who may be good musicians and able to read, don’t know nothing about rhythm. Thinking about the rhythm—this is what brings out good soloists. That’s what makes Dizzy and what made Charlie Parker great musicians—they’re rhythm experts. Guys like that understand drummers, and they can turn round and explain things. The others figure: “Well, I can blow a horn: I got a sound”, and it’s like you’re pulling a ton of bricks.
They’re going one way, the rhythm’s going another.
Then there are the musicians, if they’ve had a fight with their old lady, they bring it to the bandstand. I don’t allow that in a combo. Whatever you had—I don’t care if your mother just died—you come to the bandstand, that’s it. ‘Cause you don’t know if you’re gonna get back there again. Tomorrow’s not promised to you. If you’re playing music, you’re one of the chosen few, a lucky guy; so, if you get up there—play. If you ain’t gonna play—forget it; this is not your thing.
And that’s what caused the fall of big bands—guys taking it as a job. This is not a job. It’s not a right—it’s a privilege to be able to play music. A privilege from the almighty.
We’re only here for a minute, just little people, small cogs in a big wheel. You’re no big deal; so you get up and do your very best. You play to the people—not down to the people.
If they had done that, this thing would not have failed. But there were so many of ‘em: “I play first trombone”; “I play second trombone”. I learned better than that—Dizzy taught me, when he was musical director of Billy Eckstine’s band. There was no such thing as first trumpet player, first trombone, first alto. You played whatever they passed out. Thelonious would write music; they’d say : “Hey, Monk, how’m I gonna play this, man? How do I get this note up here?” Monk’d say: “It’s on the horn. Find it. Play it.” And this is the way it is.
For big band playing, I think Mel Lewis is doing a tremendous job. He’s one of those personalities that can carry that. I couldn’t; I feel the big band’s got to move in another direction from what it’s moving in today, to come out to be fantastic. Sure, Thad is a genius in the way he writes. If he could be as fortunate as Billy Eckstine was, and he and Mel could get the musicians they want—my God! But Thad is a smart man—he works with the material he has. He certainly hasn’t reached his peak in writing yet, nor as a trumpet and flugelhorn player. He’s just fantastic, and so is Mel. I like their whole thing—the framework of it, all the thoughts behind it. They feel the same; way I do. With what they have, they’re doing a hell of a job.
There’ve been times when I’ve had musicians in the group who hadn’t had a chance to develop. Then people look for me to play a lot of drum solos. But how many drum solos can you play? A drum is not a melody instrument. If you play too much drums, it becomes noise to people; they don’t understand. I like it to be effective, and I do mean to get attention when I play that drum. You know, I don’t try to be technical about it. Technique don’t mean nothing to me; what I want to do is get into the bowels and the guts of the human soul—and I have the instrument to do it with. If you chew your food, you chew it on time; your heart beats on time. When I hit that drum, I get your attention, and try to shake you up inside. Now, I can’t do that all night. You’ve got to have melody instruments, because you’ll get people so disturbed they won’t know what to do with themselves. Many nights I know I’ve upset many people inside; afterwards I’m exhausted.
Well, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I like to let the people know how I feel, that I feel like they feel.
I ain’t there to get no musicians up off the ground—I’m playing to the people. If the musicians want to come on, they better come on along. If they don’t, I’m just gonna run ‘em off the bandstand. I see how far they can go, how far I can push ‘em, but I don’t try to overplay the soloist. I come to a point, then I’ll slack down and stay behind, because I am an accompaniment—that’s what the rhythm section is for. But I’m not gonna sit back there and keep time for him—he has to play. So you try to develop him in that way. And I don’t want the bass player or the piano player to feel that they have to sit and play time.
He should know time; if he don’t, it’s time he learned. If he doesn’t develop, another musician comes along and takes his place. They’ve all been tremendous, but some of ‘em don’t have time to develop; and sometimes I don’t have time to let them. If things come up that are urgent, then I have to change. And some you get that just won’t—they’re in it for something else, maybe.
I’ve seen the opportunists, who said: “I’m gonna do this, or that”. But I feel they’re very stupid, because if anybody’s gonna do anything, my track record will check ‘em out. I’ll help ‘em, but I don’t want anybody to try to use me as a stepping–stone for their career; if they do that, they’ll fail. The ones that have come through and become leaders are real pure. Horace Silver, Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Benny Golson—these cats are for real.
Some of the others forget that the Jazz Messengers is an institution, and they’re not gonna roll over this thing.
What is so fortunate, the record companies and the agencies are now beginning to see it. My manager, especially, is something else. Jack Whittimore and I have been together for twenty years, and he knows me inside out. He lets nothing pass; if somebody’s kinda weird, or becomes an opportunist, they’re in trouble—all he has to do is pick up the telephone. He just guides my whole thing.
This man and I just go together. He has most of the cats, like Roland Kirk. He’s responsible to a large degree for Miles Davis, I think. Miles had the talent, but I mean the business guidance; he was so sincere about him, because he loved Miles. He loves musicians. You know, he’s been offered fabulous amounts of money under the table, tax free—he looked at them and turned that down, man. That’s a hell of a man. He doesn’t have two faces; he has one face, and he calls a spade a spade. And I like that type of man. It’s a man—and there’s very few of ‘em out here. Lots of males, few men. I hear a lot of people talk about how much man they are, but a tree is known by the fruit it bears. Let’s see what you have done in your life.
I never gotten into that thing of saving money, and buying insurance to bury you with. I’m not worried about that. If you’re able to buy you some land, build a house on it, grow food on it, bury yourself in it when you die—that’s the way I think. ‘The first source of wealth is land.
Because I’ve never seen an armoured car following a hearse, man. So I’m not going to break my neck, taking money off people; I just want to be out here and play, and be at peace. Had I got into this big money thing, it’d have been nice. I don’t know what I would have done. Money changes people—maybe it’d have been the worse far me.
You have to change, if you’re making a lot of money.
You’re not in the same circles; it’s different. You can’t sort out your friends—all that kind of stuff. I don’t want that: I’ve had access to a lot of money in my life; it wasn’t mine. I just want to play some music, make people happy.
Oh, if I had to play that commercial kind of music, I’m telling you—I’d rather go on and be a gambler, make more money shooting crap than doing that. You see, I come out the streets. I know how to do other things and make money. I certainly don’t need to sit down and play in no studio, with no guy waving no stick over my head, that don’t know as much about it as I do. That isn’t what I’m out here for.
I’d love to make a lot of money. I’ve got some definite plans; I’ve got sense enough to know I’m gonna retire sooner or later; nature will take care of that. But I’d like to retire into something, you know. I think the best investment is in another human being. I’d like to have a whole lot of kids, and just have a place for them. Not my kids; I wouldn’t want to sire no kids. No, just get a whole bunch of ‘em—not too many, just enough I could take care of, support and put ‘em out in the country somewhere.
Let ‘em live life, close to nature—not in the city, like where I was raised. If they want to play music, they can, but at least give ‘em a chance. I don’t want to upset the world, or change nothing; I just want my little corner.
But as for the Jazz Messengers—the funny thing is how our music goes in a circle. And since Benny Golson wrote “Blues March” and Bobby Timmons wrote “Moanin’,” we just can’t get away from them. People demand them. Now they’re demanding more of the old things we did. We just recorded “Along Came Betty” with Jon Hendricks; he put some words on it, with the permission of Benny Golson. It was a beautiful thing. There’s such a thing as going too fast for your public; they have to catch up. Boy, that must have been originally recorded fifteen years ago. That’s how the cycle goes.
Time passes so damn fast; I turn around and say: “What happened? Where did it go?” I look up and I see my son standing up there; he’s got a beard and a moustache—damn, he’s a man. He’s a drummer now; he grew up and became our road manager, and travelled with us for years. Oh—there’s so much going on, so many kids.
Horace has a little daughter now, growing up. Donald Byrd’s son is old enough to play. How time went! When it gets home to you, it really shocks you.
I met Chuck Mangione here the other day. Now, when he was a young trumpet player, about eleven years old, his father brought him to the club, and he told me: “I’d sure like to play with the Jazz Messengers.” I said: “Well, son—one day you will.” And what do you know—I turned around and he was a grown man, married, and he joined the band! That thing knocked me out. He had a ball out there with me—something else, ‘cause he never imagined that I would be like I am, when I’m his father’s age. He’d just look at me and shake his head, and say: “Man, you’re something else!” You know, I’ve been around young guys all my life. I mean, I don’t feel any older. It’s only when I look in the mirror and I think about the age that I know. But I act the same way I always did.
And I ain’t got time to look back. You look back—by the time you turn forward somebody’s shot right past you.
You gotta keep getting up, and running as fast as you can.
My present group is not my set group. I just started working regularly again, really, because there came a time when work was hard to get, and we slacked up on everything Horace, all of us. I had cats with me all the time working, enough to exist. But now it’s started picking up, I’m in the throes of really putting it together, and getting guys that’s gonna be in the band for a while, for a couple of years or so, like I used to. I like to set guys together; to get the right combination, you got to set ‘em together spiritually and emotionally. You just can’t take any musician, just because he can play.
It’s got to be a group thing, for us to move forward musically. Then we can move forward financially. But if a guy comes in the group talking about finance, he don’t come here to work. You can forget it. Go play rock, you want to make some money. The only thing we got is: if we stay out here and play, we know we’re going down in history. What’s important is building a good reputation.
I just don’t want to be bothered with those guys who talk about money all the time—they make me sick. Or a fly–by–night promoter or club owner, who wants to make a whole lot of money off of jazz. And they only want to half do it; they don’t want to advertise or anything. If a rock group comes, they take a whole page in a newspaper.
Advertisement is the secret of success. Then, when the jazz makes no money, they tell the lie: “Oh, that jazz is no good.” The truth is that jazz has been selling for years. It surprises me, really, to find that records I made almost a quarter of a century ago, with Monk and all the cats, are still selling. Fantastic. And all the flyby–night rock and rhythm ’n’ blues—I don’t know where they went.
And as for the people who stop using the word jazz—well, they made their reputations playing jazz; so they’re jive. Any of ‘em are jive, who do that. You don’t change horses in mid–stream. I don’t care who they are, or where they are, they’ll never come up to me and tell me that. They may tell some pressman, that they’re trying to make some kind of impression on, but they ain’t gonna say that in front of me. They’re liars, because it’s the only way they got here.
So they’re fortunate, and they get a few write–ups.
That doesn’t mean that you’re great. You made a good record or something, and you’re all pleased about it. I ain’t never made a record I liked—I got that yet to do. People say it’s good, but I don’t think so. I could tear it apart in my own mind when I listen to it; I’m never satisfied with it. So when they get satisfied with themselves, I think it’s very dangerous. They got that. Because there’s always room for improvement.
I don’t understand anybody putting down jazz. And I know a lot of people have done that. I’m sincerely sorry for them. They made a mistake, and they had to come back and eat it up later.
This business of music is hard, with a lot of frustration, too. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m not going to make the mistake of turning my back on jazz. I love it and appreciate it too much. So many people helped me to come up in this field—Sid Catlett, Gene Krupa, Chick Webb, Max Roach, Kenny Clarke—all the cats, as far back as I can remember. They’re all something to do with my life. Monk, Dizzy, Billie, Charlie Parker—can’t turn my back on them. They made me what I am today, helped me put everything together. I’m staying where I belong.
Copyright © 1973 Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved.
Now, during the Newport Festival this year, they had a Nostalgia Of The ‘Forties night at the Roseland Ballroom, New York, with Louis Jordan and his Tympany Five, and a group of singing sisters. That was fantastic—it was sold out, and I was very happy to see that. You know, I think everything should go forward, but I don’t like to see things dropped completely, because they did mean something to many people. The same place was packed also when they had Duke Ellington, Woody Herman and Count Basie there one night. It was a good idea; it brought back many memories.
Sure, the Jazz Messengers have played for dancing.
We play a different type of thing in New York, where they have a Latin group, a West Indian group with the steel drums, and our group. And people dance when we play; most of the time they listen, but they also dance. We did a lot of that; it didn’t go too far outside of New York, but it was fantastic.
The thing was, when this type of music came in, people were ignorant of it. Ignorance breeds fear, and fear breeds hate. They couldn’t understand it; so they didn’t want to listen. If they’d listened, they could dance to it.
And now they’re finding out that they can. As I see it, things go in a cycle. They’ll come round to it. It’s nothing but rhythm.
And rock is bringing it around, too. Some of our best musicians are in the rock field now, and they’re putting out good music.. What the rock drummers are doing is: they’re opening up the things that us jazz drummers are playing three or four times as fast, and playing ‘em slower. And it’s real beautiful, the way they got to this idea. Very clever, too. They started out with rhythm ’n’ blues, and it was called “chopping wood”. Now it’s more rhythm; it’s an opening up of the thing. But they’ll come where we’re at. I figure they all come back to the mother same day! For a musician, this is the most fascinating way to play; it’s the most exciting and everything. I’ve checked out the other ways to play—Dixieland, ragtime, rock, rhythm ’n’ blues, I went all through that. :But this is the way for a drummer to really put it together. He doesn’t have to pound himself to death, and he’s got to play with all musicians, because everybody’s got to know where the beat is.
That’s why they had to have the rock beat—so the people could dance. The drummers had gone so far ahead.
Because once a thing starts out, and you say “One, two, three, four”. it really isn’t necessary for you to keep this up; if you do, you lock yourself in, and you don’t get a chance to explore and advance.
Because this is the thing: we use the European harmonic structure; all my life I’ve been trying to bring that together with the African rhythms. I think we’ll have something very fantastic. And today we’re closer to it than ever. When that comes, it’s not that repetitious thing.
The “one” is there, just as sure as you know the sun is rising or setting, but you’re not supposed to be given credit for that—you just explore. It’s gonna take time, that’s all. The Africans have been dancing to that kind of thing for it’s very nice.
When I went to West Africa, it wasn’t to check out any music, though. I went out there just to learn, you know—to find out what was happening. And at that time over there, I accepted Islam. I just wanted to find out other things about life, like a lot of young people do today—“ Why? What am I here for?” I wasn’t satisfied with what I was taught in school, or by my parents. I felt that they were in a little darkness, too, and I had to go there and find out. I found out. I felt much better about it.
If you find out why, it helps to make the real you. I was able to appreciate more where I came from, the system in which I was raised, what I was doing, and how this thing came about. In other words, I would have gone along in ignorance, hating where I came from. I began to see: no America, no jazz; if I hadn’t been in jazz, I wouldn’t be able to travel and see the world. One thing brought on another, you know. That put my head together.
So I came back, and started playing again. We formed the Seventeen Messengers, but that broke up, because big bands were going out, anyway. No, it hadn’t been my idea. The guys put the band together, just picked me out, and said; “You’re the leader.” I never had any hopes of ever being a bandleader—never thought about it.
But I always had a ‘motor mouth’. I had a way of talking to guys; I could organise, and people liked me for that. I’d had a lot of experience in doing that.
I’d been in other big bands, like Billy Eckstine’s.
There were no combos to be in, other than John Kirby, at that time. I worked with Mary Lou Williams; she brought me to New York for the first time, and we played on 52nd Street for a few weeks. Then I played in some small combos in Pittsburgh. I had my own small combo, playing drums, and I had a big band, playing piano, but I never wanted to get into being a bandleader. Just wanted to make a livelihood. But when the guys picked me, I just went out there, did my best, said what I had to say. Being outgoing helped, I guess.
So, when that didn’t work, Horace Silver, ,Kenny Dorham, Doug Watkins, Hank Mobley and I got together, and Horace suggested that we call this the Jazz Messengers—which was beautiful. Again they made me the leader. It started out as a corporation, but that didn’t last too long. They went and formed their groups, leaving me out there to carry on. That’s how I became mostly a leader since 1955.
I thank God for Horace, Kenny and the guys, too—they gave me a big push forward. ‘‘ Because I wasn’t really doing anything for myself before that.
Thelonious Monk was the guy that was keeping me busy, recording and things, but I didn’t care too much about it; I just took the attitude; “Well, here it is.” They came along and gave me that push.
I don’t think musicians ever said Monk was difficult to play with. I think people were saying that, not musicians. Because musicians are the ones who make musicians. And anybody who knew anything about music knew, revered and feared Monk, as far as music is concerned. It was just that the musicians couldn’t get a chance to play with him. Thelonious was very selective, and I was just fortunate he selected me. He’d take me and Bud Powell around, and he’d stop all the band and let Bud play, and let me play.
Sometimes the musicians would get up and walk off the stand; then Bud and I or Thelonious and I would play by ourselves.
He was very outspoken—and they respected him for it. This man was so fantastic; he knew what he wanted to do, and he did it. He just had that personality, that aura about him. I was so happy to play with him, I tried the best I could; and anyway, I was experimenting. He let you experiment all you wanted, and that was good. I learned a lot with him; that helped to develop me quite a bit, at that time. Because coming out of the big band, I didn’t know that much.
See, playing in a combo and playing in a big band is two different things. In a combo, every tub’s got to sit on its own bottom. I was out there to learn. And when you lead a group, you really got to be into it. As far as I’m concerned, I like to hear big bands, but I don’t want to play with ‘em. I’ve had that. If I had a big band, it would have to be something entirely different rhythmically.
Because I get very angry with musicians loafing, and the rhythm is working. You know, the horns just standing around, looking. I mean, I feel that they should write insurance; everybody’s got to get into the act. There shouldn’t be that laying out a chorus or more, while the band is playing. They should be busy creating something, trying to change the music around, or to move it forward.
But this doesn’t happen. Then you’re carrying a lot of dead weight. See, and the drummer is the stoker; he’s got to pull all this weight.
Some guys, who may be good musicians and able to read, don’t know nothing about rhythm. Thinking about the rhythm—this is what brings out good soloists. That’s what makes Dizzy and what made Charlie Parker great musicians—they’re rhythm experts. Guys like that understand drummers, and they can turn round and explain things. The others figure: “Well, I can blow a horn: I got a sound”, and it’s like you’re pulling a ton of bricks.
They’re going one way, the rhythm’s going another.
Then there are the musicians, if they’ve had a fight with their old lady, they bring it to the bandstand. I don’t allow that in a combo. Whatever you had—I don’t care if your mother just died—you come to the bandstand, that’s it. ‘Cause you don’t know if you’re gonna get back there again. Tomorrow’s not promised to you. If you’re playing music, you’re one of the chosen few, a lucky guy; so, if you get up there—play. If you ain’t gonna play—forget it; this is not your thing.
And that’s what caused the fall of big bands—guys taking it as a job. This is not a job. It’s not a right—it’s a privilege to be able to play music. A privilege from the almighty.
We’re only here for a minute, just little people, small cogs in a big wheel. You’re no big deal; so you get up and do your very best. You play to the people—not down to the people.
If they had done that, this thing would not have failed. But there were so many of ‘em: “I play first trombone”; “I play second trombone”. I learned better than that—Dizzy taught me, when he was musical director of Billy Eckstine’s band. There was no such thing as first trumpet player, first trombone, first alto. You played whatever they passed out. Thelonious would write music; they’d say : “Hey, Monk, how’m I gonna play this, man? How do I get this note up here?” Monk’d say: “It’s on the horn. Find it. Play it.” And this is the way it is.
For big band playing, I think Mel Lewis is doing a tremendous job. He’s one of those personalities that can carry that. I couldn’t; I feel the big band’s got to move in another direction from what it’s moving in today, to come out to be fantastic. Sure, Thad is a genius in the way he writes. If he could be as fortunate as Billy Eckstine was, and he and Mel could get the musicians they want—my God! But Thad is a smart man—he works with the material he has. He certainly hasn’t reached his peak in writing yet, nor as a trumpet and flugelhorn player. He’s just fantastic, and so is Mel. I like their whole thing—the framework of it, all the thoughts behind it. They feel the same; way I do. With what they have, they’re doing a hell of a job.
There’ve been times when I’ve had musicians in the group who hadn’t had a chance to develop. Then people look for me to play a lot of drum solos. But how many drum solos can you play? A drum is not a melody instrument. If you play too much drums, it becomes noise to people; they don’t understand. I like it to be effective, and I do mean to get attention when I play that drum. You know, I don’t try to be technical about it. Technique don’t mean nothing to me; what I want to do is get into the bowels and the guts of the human soul—and I have the instrument to do it with. If you chew your food, you chew it on time; your heart beats on time. When I hit that drum, I get your attention, and try to shake you up inside. Now, I can’t do that all night. You’ve got to have melody instruments, because you’ll get people so disturbed they won’t know what to do with themselves. Many nights I know I’ve upset many people inside; afterwards I’m exhausted.
Well, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I like to let the people know how I feel, that I feel like they feel.
I ain’t there to get no musicians up off the ground—I’m playing to the people. If the musicians want to come on, they better come on along. If they don’t, I’m just gonna run ‘em off the bandstand. I see how far they can go, how far I can push ‘em, but I don’t try to overplay the soloist. I come to a point, then I’ll slack down and stay behind, because I am an accompaniment—that’s what the rhythm section is for. But I’m not gonna sit back there and keep time for him—he has to play. So you try to develop him in that way. And I don’t want the bass player or the piano player to feel that they have to sit and play time.
He should know time; if he don’t, it’s time he learned. If he doesn’t develop, another musician comes along and takes his place. They’ve all been tremendous, but some of ‘em don’t have time to develop; and sometimes I don’t have time to let them. If things come up that are urgent, then I have to change. And some you get that just won’t—they’re in it for something else, maybe.
I’ve seen the opportunists, who said: “I’m gonna do this, or that”. But I feel they’re very stupid, because if anybody’s gonna do anything, my track record will check ‘em out. I’ll help ‘em, but I don’t want anybody to try to use me as a stepping–stone for their career; if they do that, they’ll fail. The ones that have come through and become leaders are real pure. Horace Silver, Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Benny Golson—these cats are for real.
Some of the others forget that the Jazz Messengers is an institution, and they’re not gonna roll over this thing.
What is so fortunate, the record companies and the agencies are now beginning to see it. My manager, especially, is something else. Jack Whittimore and I have been together for twenty years, and he knows me inside out. He lets nothing pass; if somebody’s kinda weird, or becomes an opportunist, they’re in trouble—all he has to do is pick up the telephone. He just guides my whole thing.
This man and I just go together. He has most of the cats, like Roland Kirk. He’s responsible to a large degree for Miles Davis, I think. Miles had the talent, but I mean the business guidance; he was so sincere about him, because he loved Miles. He loves musicians. You know, he’s been offered fabulous amounts of money under the table, tax free—he looked at them and turned that down, man. That’s a hell of a man. He doesn’t have two faces; he has one face, and he calls a spade a spade. And I like that type of man. It’s a man—and there’s very few of ‘em out here. Lots of males, few men. I hear a lot of people talk about how much man they are, but a tree is known by the fruit it bears. Let’s see what you have done in your life.
I never gotten into that thing of saving money, and buying insurance to bury you with. I’m not worried about that. If you’re able to buy you some land, build a house on it, grow food on it, bury yourself in it when you die—that’s the way I think. ‘The first source of wealth is land.
Because I’ve never seen an armoured car following a hearse, man. So I’m not going to break my neck, taking money off people; I just want to be out here and play, and be at peace. Had I got into this big money thing, it’d have been nice. I don’t know what I would have done. Money changes people—maybe it’d have been the worse far me.
You have to change, if you’re making a lot of money.
You’re not in the same circles; it’s different. You can’t sort out your friends—all that kind of stuff. I don’t want that: I’ve had access to a lot of money in my life; it wasn’t mine. I just want to play some music, make people happy.
Oh, if I had to play that commercial kind of music, I’m telling you—I’d rather go on and be a gambler, make more money shooting crap than doing that. You see, I come out the streets. I know how to do other things and make money. I certainly don’t need to sit down and play in no studio, with no guy waving no stick over my head, that don’t know as much about it as I do. That isn’t what I’m out here for.
I’d love to make a lot of money. I’ve got some definite plans; I’ve got sense enough to know I’m gonna retire sooner or later; nature will take care of that. But I’d like to retire into something, you know. I think the best investment is in another human being. I’d like to have a whole lot of kids, and just have a place for them. Not my kids; I wouldn’t want to sire no kids. No, just get a whole bunch of ‘em—not too many, just enough I could take care of, support and put ‘em out in the country somewhere.
Let ‘em live life, close to nature—not in the city, like where I was raised. If they want to play music, they can, but at least give ‘em a chance. I don’t want to upset the world, or change nothing; I just want my little corner.
But as for the Jazz Messengers—the funny thing is how our music goes in a circle. And since Benny Golson wrote “Blues March” and Bobby Timmons wrote “Moanin’,” we just can’t get away from them. People demand them. Now they’re demanding more of the old things we did. We just recorded “Along Came Betty” with Jon Hendricks; he put some words on it, with the permission of Benny Golson. It was a beautiful thing. There’s such a thing as going too fast for your public; they have to catch up. Boy, that must have been originally recorded fifteen years ago. That’s how the cycle goes.
Time passes so damn fast; I turn around and say: “What happened? Where did it go?” I look up and I see my son standing up there; he’s got a beard and a moustache—damn, he’s a man. He’s a drummer now; he grew up and became our road manager, and travelled with us for years. Oh—there’s so much going on, so many kids.
Horace has a little daughter now, growing up. Donald Byrd’s son is old enough to play. How time went! When it gets home to you, it really shocks you.
I met Chuck Mangione here the other day. Now, when he was a young trumpet player, about eleven years old, his father brought him to the club, and he told me: “I’d sure like to play with the Jazz Messengers.” I said: “Well, son—one day you will.” And what do you know—I turned around and he was a grown man, married, and he joined the band! That thing knocked me out. He had a ball out there with me—something else, ‘cause he never imagined that I would be like I am, when I’m his father’s age. He’d just look at me and shake his head, and say: “Man, you’re something else!” You know, I’ve been around young guys all my life. I mean, I don’t feel any older. It’s only when I look in the mirror and I think about the age that I know. But I act the same way I always did.
And I ain’t got time to look back. You look back—by the time you turn forward somebody’s shot right past you.
You gotta keep getting up, and running as fast as you can.
My present group is not my set group. I just started working regularly again, really, because there came a time when work was hard to get, and we slacked up on everything Horace, all of us. I had cats with me all the time working, enough to exist. But now it’s started picking up, I’m in the throes of really putting it together, and getting guys that’s gonna be in the band for a while, for a couple of years or so, like I used to. I like to set guys together; to get the right combination, you got to set ‘em together spiritually and emotionally. You just can’t take any musician, just because he can play.
It’s got to be a group thing, for us to move forward musically. Then we can move forward financially. But if a guy comes in the group talking about finance, he don’t come here to work. You can forget it. Go play rock, you want to make some money. The only thing we got is: if we stay out here and play, we know we’re going down in history. What’s important is building a good reputation.
I just don’t want to be bothered with those guys who talk about money all the time—they make me sick. Or a fly–by–night promoter or club owner, who wants to make a whole lot of money off of jazz. And they only want to half do it; they don’t want to advertise or anything. If a rock group comes, they take a whole page in a newspaper.
Advertisement is the secret of success. Then, when the jazz makes no money, they tell the lie: “Oh, that jazz is no good.” The truth is that jazz has been selling for years. It surprises me, really, to find that records I made almost a quarter of a century ago, with Monk and all the cats, are still selling. Fantastic. And all the flyby–night rock and rhythm ’n’ blues—I don’t know where they went.
And as for the people who stop using the word jazz—well, they made their reputations playing jazz; so they’re jive. Any of ‘em are jive, who do that. You don’t change horses in mid–stream. I don’t care who they are, or where they are, they’ll never come up to me and tell me that. They may tell some pressman, that they’re trying to make some kind of impression on, but they ain’t gonna say that in front of me. They’re liars, because it’s the only way they got here.
So they’re fortunate, and they get a few write–ups.
That doesn’t mean that you’re great. You made a good record or something, and you’re all pleased about it. I ain’t never made a record I liked—I got that yet to do. People say it’s good, but I don’t think so. I could tear it apart in my own mind when I listen to it; I’m never satisfied with it. So when they get satisfied with themselves, I think it’s very dangerous. They got that. Because there’s always room for improvement.
I don’t understand anybody putting down jazz. And I know a lot of people have done that. I’m sincerely sorry for them. They made a mistake, and they had to come back and eat it up later.
This business of music is hard, with a lot of frustration, too. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m not going to make the mistake of turning my back on jazz. I love it and appreciate it too much. So many people helped me to come up in this field—Sid Catlett, Gene Krupa, Chick Webb, Max Roach, Kenny Clarke—all the cats, as far back as I can remember. They’re all something to do with my life. Monk, Dizzy, Billie, Charlie Parker—can’t turn my back on them. They made me what I am today, helped me put everything together. I’m staying where I belong.
Copyright © 1973 Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved.
https://www.nationaljazzarchive.co.uk/stories?id=286
Art Blakey
Interview Three: More messages from the messanger
Art Blakey discusses his views on being a 'Jazz Messanger'.
Interview: 1987
Source: Jazz Professional
It
was almost three years between the November engagement at Ronnie’s and
the one before, but sure, the club was crowded every night. Well, I
expect that—after fifty years. Everywhere it’s happening like that now.
Okay, I got a trombone in the frontline now—you can get the same thing out of a trumpet and a tenor saxophone, I feel. I’m out here trying to keep the young musicians working—and you can experiment. I like to experiment, and that’s what the whole thing’s about—trying to do something different in jazz, as far as I can. That’s why I have a different instrumentation.
How do I keep finding the right musicians? They find me. They come, and one gets another as it goes along. I don’t go around looking—I don’t have time.
When they come in, they’re good enough to go out on their own. I don’t hire no stars—they come in and have a chance to develop their art. Don’t need stars—I can’t afford it. They can become stars, if they get an opportunity—and this is the place where they get it. That’s why they’re there.
I don’t expect a standard—that’s impossible. They try to learn, and build to that. They can’t come up to the level... say, for instance, when Freddie Hubbard left, you couldn’t expect nobody else to come in and be up to the level of Freddie Hubbard—they have to hone their art and get to that level. I look for the character of a person mostly—his talent, and that’s it. If his character ain’t right, I don’t have anything to do with him. It’s like anything else. I don’t care where he comes from, or what he looks like—if he’s got the talent, and good character, he can work with me.
We try to work together—because they do most of the work on developing themselves, by being out here and having the chance. And they’re all going to sound like the Jazz Messengers anyway—because I’m the Jazz Messenger, it’s my band, and that’s what it’s supposed to sound like—Art Blakey’s band—not anybody else’s. No trying to get this or that—this is the way I play, and I’m directing the traffic. When they come in, they write that way.
They have to write—I demand that. But they learn how to write—they make time.
The deportment is something I insist on too—the way they look on the stage. Because people pay to see you, and they see you before they hear you. When cats are on the bandstand they better not look like they’re going to give somebody a grease job—people don’t pay for that. I think they should have a great respect for the audience—because if the audience ain’t there... I don’t care how great they are, or how great they think they are, if people don’t come to admire what you have, you’re in a world of trouble. So you have to learn how to respect them. The audience are a part of the music in jazz—the great part of it.
It’s the spirit of the thing. Music only washes away the dust of everyday life—that’s what it’s supposed to do.
If you don’t make ‘em happy, so they forget about what’s going on out there, you have failed. That’s your job, to do that. They didn’t come in to be taught about it; they came for the feeling—that’s what counts. Not the notes of anything—it’s the feeling of the music that is the most important thing. If you can make the people feel good, then that’s it.
No, I don’t hear musicians while travelling around that I’d consider for the band—I wish I did. We just don’t have time for that... I’m only a human being, you know. I am my own booking agent; I run my own corporation; I have too much time to be a listener—I don’t listen to my own records. Simply because: if I listen, I have big ears, and if I liked something, I’d be copying it, unconsciously.
So then that stops my creativity. I like to be looked at as an innovator, finding new things—the music is changing every day. If I listen, that’ll hold me up.
Because I’m selftaught—I had no kind of training at all—I’ve been in music a long time. Before drums, I played piano—and I was just lucky. I had it in my mind and in my heart that what I wanted to do was play jazz—luckily, that’s what I did. As for having a natural gift—I’m glad it was, because I had to eat in those times! I’m a Depression baby, and it was much easier for me than it is for the young people today. They have so many choices, but I was told what to do—and it’s much easier to do something when you’re told to do it than it is to make a choice. When there are no alternatives, you just get in there and do it.
Sure, I was with Dizzy, Bird, Monk. And before that I was with Fletcher Henderson, Mary Lou Williams, Buddy De Franco—I’ve always been lucky like that. It helped that they were great, but the idea of it was to be flexible enough to play with different people. You play over here with Duke Ellington—you play this way; over here with Count Basie, you play different; with Billy Eckstine, you play different. I always say: let the punishment fit the crime—that’s what I try to do. I don’t go over in Duke Ellington’s band and try to play Art BlakeyI just play Duke Ellington. But most of the time through my career I had my own band—so I didn’t have to worry.
Like everybody else, I learned as I went along. It’s the idea of knowing your instrument, mastering it, and when you get up onstage the public is involved too—from the creator to the artist direct to the audience. So there’s no music like that. Your audience can make you play very good—what we call over the top. We don’t even know what we’re playing. It’s so fantastic—you can improvise because of the feeling that they give you. It’s a rapport back and forth.
Schooling doesn’t make a jazz musician either—you have to get it together. It’s like, you go to the university and they give you a diploma in whatever—now you’re equipped to go out and get an education. That’s what it’s all about. They come out and learn how to play jazz. If knowledge gained is not applied, it’s not knowledge at all; so they have to apply what they have learned.
But it’s true there have been some who didn’t do their homework! So they have been successful, as far as making money? That don’t mean nothing—there will come a time when you separate the sheep from the goats.
That’s what’s gonna happen to ‘em. The idea of it is: you don’t have to pay no attention to what they’re trying to do. You have a lot of stuff out they call jazz—it’s not jazz, because it doesn’t swing. You gotta swing. A lot of times, a lot of kids are looking for a short route—they want to start at the top, or threefourths of the way to the top, instead of starting at the bottom. You can’t do that—you have to start like everybody else, and learn, and get out there. But they come out and just play—and want to play anything. It’s just gimmicks—they fade away. If they want to waste their time like that, it’s all right—that’s their life and that’s their time. They don’t realise.
If they fool the public when they label it jazz, it’s because the critics and everything turn the people’s heads.
They come and say: “Soandso is this”, but they don’t know that critics don’t make musicians—musicians make musicians. All they know is what they hear the musicians say. Some critics are good and straightahead—they tell the truth. Because you can’t come with a tonguein–thecheek idea; if a person is doing something, you call a spade a spade. Very few of ’em come with the truth; they want to make controversy, or this guy said this about another musician—it doesn’t make sense. If one musician puts down another, he’s putting himself down—but they always get up into that trap.
I don’t care what they say, as long as they spell my name right! Time will tell, you know. They’re entitled to their opinion—if that’s their opinion. If they’re saying it because they heard somebody else say it, that’s hearsay.
And when they take that and use it, and that changes the people’s heads toward jazz—that’s what makes it so hard.
The truth is stranger than fiction, and people are afraid of the truth.
You’re born, your destination is death—it’s what you did in between. I don’t know if I did everything right, but I did the best I possibly could—I have no fear about anything. I can’t set the world on fire—all I do is just try to light a candle where I am; I just go about my life. I try to play the right way, do the best I can and present it, because it’s music.
The kids today, though, are something else. We come to the UK, but I hadn’t been to Ronnie Scott’s for that long time, because we’ve been playing discos. People used to claim they couldn’t dance to jazz—and they said that because they couldn’t dance themselves, to any kind of music. The drum is the most important thing—and they dance. Kids get put down for what they do, just like we get put down for jazz—the way they dress, act, dance, communicate. Well, we did some strange things when we were young—I know I did. Sure—that’s part of being young. A lot of ‘em are creative—I think they’re just wonderful. To go to these places and see them kids out there dancing to that music—that’s something else! So they’re more sophisticated than those old fogeys back there who said they can’t dance to it. And by having so many children of my own, I have a better chance to see that. With different generations coming along, I notice, with my children, that each one that comes along later is smarter than the other generation. Much smarter, and it always has been. Girls mature much faster than boys... so you watch this thing, and you watch the growth.
Now, my two year old, who’s doing so well on Sesame Street, is really sophisticated. He knows about music—how to play the drums—just by watching me. You can’t do nothing before him—he’ll get you. I never taught him a thing—he gets up there and he dances.
His name is Akirathat’s the name of my corporation too. He’s got a Japanese name, because my son before him is partJapanese—his name is Tokashi. Their name is Buhaina, as mine is; I gave ‘em their own identity—I don’t call ‘em Blakey. I asked my son of seventeen: “Do you want to be a musician?” He said: “Hell no, pop—I don’t want to be in your shadow. I want to be an architect.
That’s your thing; you got it—I want my thing over here.” That makes a lot of sense to me, and I’m gonna break my neck to get him in the best schools to be an architect. I’m not going to push him to be a musician.
But the baby’s got that sign of natural talent—if he wants to be in show business, go ahead. They’re so smart now, and they’ve got such a hell of a memory. I sit down and say: “I couldn’t do that when I was a kid.” Well, these kids got television, records—things I never had—they know exactly what they want to do. I learned a lot about ‘em—I had fourteen of ‘em. I raised fourteen—I didn’t have ‘em. I wasn’t the putative father, but I adopted a lot of kids, because I love ‘em. I was an orphan, and I guess that works up here; I just like a family—it makes me push harder. It gives me something to live for. I learn from ‘em—I really can learn from kids. And when the young guys come in the band, I learn things from them.
As far as I have seen, jazz is the highest level of performance on a musical instrument. It’s a spiritual music—there’s no music like it. And people don’t realise... they go up there—they don’t see no music up there. We don’t know what we’re going to play; when they hit, everything is: “Bam! bam!” just like that, on time, like they were reading music up there. And you never hear the same arrangement twice. We make so many mistakes—I do, because I’m changing things around. But they’re profes-sional enough to cover it. If they make a mistake, I teach ‘em: go back, make that same mistake, and make something out of it. Because that’s the way jazz was born—somebody goofed! So you just go ahead; it’s not a mistake—you just build.
So the young musicians are beginning to get the idea. Don’t get the idea that you wrote the book, and you know this is right; it isn’t right—you can’t say that. All you’re doing is: you’re striving to reach out and learn.
The longer I play and the older I get—every time I get up on the drums, I find out what a dum–dum I really am.
You never know it all. Sometimes I get off the stage, and I think I played pretty good; I know I give my heart every time—I say: “Wow, that sounded good to me.” Then I look back up at that stand, and look at the drums, and the drums say: “Come on back up here—you think you’re so smart... . That’s what keeps you going. There’s always something new—and somebody will come up with something else. It’s always changing. Music is like a river: it’s got to flow, and it must change—and if it doesn’t flow, it becomes stagnant, and kills everybody around it.
You know what I really believe... there’s no country like the United States—there’s so many diversities, so many factions... what has to happen is going to be difficult, and it’s going to take time. We have jazz in colleges now, but it’s all gotten so political that the teachers they have in there teaching jazz don’t know anything about it.
And they’ve got these eighteen–and twenty–piece jazz bands in there. I think this is very wrong, because if the blind lead the blind they all fall in the ditch. They have to have musicians out there in the field—artists in residence, to play there and teach those kids. As it’s going now in the States—Florida University, Indiana, all the places we play out there—they’re going to get tired of it, and there won’t be no interest, because the kids know that the teachers don’t know what they’re talking about.
We did a concert, after a week of working with the kids out there; we did a ballad—Terence Blanchard played “I Thought About You”. This teacher thought it was something Wayne Shorter wrote—it’s a pop tune.
And he’d never heard “Blues March” before. Now, he’s teaching a twenty–piece orchestra.
Then you’ve got other places right there in New York, all in so–called ‘black neighbourhoods’. They’ve got a school there in Brownsville, with a black principal, a black assistant principal—but down in the basement they’ve got a big cellar full of slightly used instruments, and they’re locked up and the kids don’t even use ‘em; they don’t even have a band. How stupid can you get? So I told the Board of Education: “You got all this stuff down here—why don’t you let these kids play it? If he blows a horn he’ll never blow a safe!” But they don’t do that.
Now these principals, with their ‘black this’ and ‘black that’—they’re sitting around on their behinds, waiting for their pensions. And I don’t think that’s fair.
They’ve got to take out all that garbage they try to teach—in Juilliard, everywhere—like, jazz is a nasty word, and really teach them kids jazz, because it’s the American art form. When they learn how to play that, they can bring their symphony orchestras back—boy, you’ll hear something you’ve never heard before. But they ain’t got sense enough to know that. They’re so busy putting down jazz—it’s here to stay, and they can easily see that.
They don’t want to recognise the spirituality of it.
They’ve got the music up there, playing what the masters wrote a hundred years ago. But that’s a note; damn the note—it’s the feeling that counts. You put a note down there—that ain’t what he played. You don’t know how he felt at the time he played it and wrote it—it’s impossible.
So why not go ahead and do it the right way—and let it come from here.
People are sitting up there stiff as a board, and if you were to bring ’em up on the bandstand where jazz is, they would be lost! They’d be swamped; they wouldn’t know what to do. But you can take the jazz musician and put him out there in a symphony orchestra—he’d play the hell out of the music. That’s the difference.
Sure, Wynton is not the only man who can go on both sides, Clifford Brown, Fats Navarro, all them guys could go on both sides. So could Doug Mettome, who people’ve never heard of—he’s white; he played with Billy Eckstine. And Charlie Shavers—those men are giants. Yeah—and people like Eddie Daniels today. They can come up and play some jazz; or go over the other side.
And I can’t understand why they can’t see that, and why they’re so ready to put it down. I can’t put their music down—I like some of them composers, man. And what could be done with that music, instead of the guys sitting up there and they think they’re playing it like they did it back then. No—that’s another time, another era.
Music is a hell of a therapy; when kids play it, they love it—and there are no problems with ‘em. I know.
That’s the way it is in Brazil—all them kids know about music, and that holds together; the people have never had uprisings and fighting, because of the music. You get mad about something- they start singing and playing, and you forget all about it. I’m telling you—I know the power of that music down there.
Down in Baia, they kidnapped us one morning, and we were so tired—we’d been up for two days. The mother was in the kitchen cooking; they had a stone floor, and she took some sandpaper, started singing and working this sandpaper on the floor. Each kid ran and got his little drum, the father got the mandolins—and there we sat for the next three hours. They were going up and down with the music, and we forgot about how tired we were. I never heard a family like that—after they played one tune, they’d switch instruments; I never saw nothing like that.
They came to New York—Carnegie Hall. At that time they were under a dictatorship, and they had to pay a thousand dollars apiece to get out, but all that’s over now.
But that music—it’s not jazz; it’s Brazilian, and it’s swinging. Salsa—it swings, and it’s creative. That thing came right out of a family—a great musical organisation.
Every child plays—fantastic. That shows what can be done.
Then you’ve got the whole thing that’s been happening in Japan. It’s only through Japan that all these things are coming back on Blue Note. We were the first organised jazz group to enter Japan, years ago—got no publicity whatsoever, and I had the best jazz group in the United States or any place else. I’ve been in Japan fifty times—now, those people are not fools. I’ve just come back from there, and I’m ready to go back next year.
All the big record companies in the States had better watch out—the Japanese are going to swallow ‘em up! They think they know it all—the same thing as manufacturing, tooling and all that stuff. They thought they had it all sewn up, and here comes Japan with them automobiles. In the States now, every automobile you look at is Japanese.
They’re not a creative people, but they sure can take something and copy it and make it go. That’s their thing—they’re very smart. Years ago I was sitting talking to some of their politicians; I said: “The United States kicked your butt—you lost the war!” They said: “Yes, Mr Blakey—we lost the war, but we won a big peace. A great big peace!” Everybody was putting ‘em down, but now everybody has woke up to what’s going on. General Motors and all the rest of ‘em will have to improve—or they’re going under.
They could even make a change from all that bad music that gets sold in millions and millions. I heard one of these guys playing piano, on such a low level—I said: “What happened to Art Tatum?” Well, the Japanese’ll bring Art Tatum out—watch and see. Because they know.
I used to see Arthur Rubinstein and Leonard Bernstein sitting down there watching this man, partially blind, play the way he did. And Rubinstein was full of praise for the great gift he recognised. Every morning they’d all be uptown jamming—Coleman Hawkins, Earl Hines, Teddy Wilson; Fats Waller would be sitting there playing the piano—when Art Tatum hit the door, he’d stop, and say: “Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please—God is in the house!” We’d play all night, and till twelve noon the next day—just for the love of it. That was nice—I think that’s what’s supposed to happen in the music. But all of a sudden it just disappeared, and all these other people started coming out with strange music. I listened to it, and I said: “Jeez, that’s really mediocrity—I haven’t got time to listen to that. “ “Ah, but he sold an enormous amount... “I don’t care what he sold—that ain’t it. It’s not the way it goes.” I think it’s ridiculous for people to buy that kind of stuff.
But if they give good jazz the opportunity, play it on the air, and propagate it a little bit, I really think it’ll work. Then the people will make the decision on what they want to hear. It just needs to be properly packaged, and it has to be real. They can try to copy it, but they can’t—the people know the difference.
The closest in copying are the Japanese. They copy the right kind of jazz, but they admit they can’t play it.
They go on with that, because it’s an idea, and it’s there for the whole world to utilise. But I think those who bring forth the original idea should be given the credit.
It may seem easy to copy, but all you finish up with is repetition—over and over. The same thing happens with some of the Latin–American or salsa music—as good as that is, the repetition is what holds it back.
Rhythmically they’re advanced, but the repetition of the music is somewhere else. Now, when you hear the Latin bands in New York, and they’re playing bebop tunes of Charlie Parker, say, or Thelonious Monk with that beat of theirs behind it—fine. But that other stuff that they do—it’s so repetitious.
And that’s what happened to rock. They just play one note, or one chord—they call it the drone—and they sing the same... you listen to it, and one group sounds just like the other. Sometimes it sounds like they’re playing in the same key, with the same chords, and just different lyrics. And the lyrics are really horrible—because they’re not lyricists. Really horrible, but they sell—and that’s ridiculous.
They believe in the cash register, and they can fill football stadiums for these rock bands, with the people screaming and carrying on. You couldn’t put a symphony orchestra out there; neither could you put a jazz group out there—it’s too big, and the music is too intimate.
A guy says to me: “Hey, Blakey—you should have a big house, a swimming pool and everything.” I said: “Well, a house ain’t a home.” “You should have money, man.” I said: “I ain’t worried about that—I don’t have to worry about no big taxes or anything.” I can take care of my family; I raised all of ‘em—fourteen children—never had one problem. I never give ‘em money, gifts or anything; when I take time off my work, I go with my kids and I give ‘em me—that’s what they want. Nobody can call me; they can’t reach me—I am with them kids.
As far as the money’s concerned—I’ve never seen an armoured car following a hearse! Once you see that, you come and tell me. The only thing that follows you to the cemetery is respect—and you’ve got to earn it. And if you lose it, you can’t regain it. So I don’t know what they’re talking about. I see these kids who left my band and went into rock—they’re so unhappy they don’t know what to do. They’re about to commit suicide. No, the money is not the answer.
The answer is in being yourself, and doing what you want to do—you have the choice. If he chose to work in that bag, that’s his life; I told him better, but if he wants to go that way, let him go that way. You see ‘em years later—the most unhappy people I’ve met. I don’t say “I told you so” or nothing like that, but I know the way they are. Some of ‘em—I’m old enough to be their grandfather, and they look like my father; that’s how that has aged ‘em. Because they don’t know who their friends are.
They have alienated themselves from the people. A big rat–race—that’s what it is—and then they can’t get out.
That’s what’s horrible about it—I don’t want that, you know.
I’m very happy with my life. Even though I was an orphan and self–raised, I think I’ve had a better life than most people. By it happening that way, it made a different and a better person out of me—much better. I know what it means to be poor; I know what it is when I see people struggling. And I’m always in fear of becoming poor. I don’t think I ever will be; I don’t think I’ll ever be rich, either. I don’t want to be rich or poor—I just want to take what I need to take care of me and my family, and that’s all I’m interested in.
Maybe other people need a lot of money—I don’t.
People think I’m very funny. I don’t go to funerals; my best friend, Thelonious Monk passed—I didn’t go to his funeral. They said: “Well, Blakey, why didn’t you go?” I said: “Funerals are for people—not for the dead. Once you’ve shown me a person came back from the dead to say: ‘What a wonderful funeral I had’, then I will go to funerals.” That ain’t what it’s all about—when the spirit leaves the body, it’s gone. This is just where the person dwells; this body is a piece of material by which you hear and you see. My eyes are the windows of the soul, and what you hear and what you see—that’s Art Blakey.
Copyright © 1987 Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved.
Okay, I got a trombone in the frontline now—you can get the same thing out of a trumpet and a tenor saxophone, I feel. I’m out here trying to keep the young musicians working—and you can experiment. I like to experiment, and that’s what the whole thing’s about—trying to do something different in jazz, as far as I can. That’s why I have a different instrumentation.
How do I keep finding the right musicians? They find me. They come, and one gets another as it goes along. I don’t go around looking—I don’t have time.
When they come in, they’re good enough to go out on their own. I don’t hire no stars—they come in and have a chance to develop their art. Don’t need stars—I can’t afford it. They can become stars, if they get an opportunity—and this is the place where they get it. That’s why they’re there.
I don’t expect a standard—that’s impossible. They try to learn, and build to that. They can’t come up to the level... say, for instance, when Freddie Hubbard left, you couldn’t expect nobody else to come in and be up to the level of Freddie Hubbard—they have to hone their art and get to that level. I look for the character of a person mostly—his talent, and that’s it. If his character ain’t right, I don’t have anything to do with him. It’s like anything else. I don’t care where he comes from, or what he looks like—if he’s got the talent, and good character, he can work with me.
We try to work together—because they do most of the work on developing themselves, by being out here and having the chance. And they’re all going to sound like the Jazz Messengers anyway—because I’m the Jazz Messenger, it’s my band, and that’s what it’s supposed to sound like—Art Blakey’s band—not anybody else’s. No trying to get this or that—this is the way I play, and I’m directing the traffic. When they come in, they write that way.
They have to write—I demand that. But they learn how to write—they make time.
The deportment is something I insist on too—the way they look on the stage. Because people pay to see you, and they see you before they hear you. When cats are on the bandstand they better not look like they’re going to give somebody a grease job—people don’t pay for that. I think they should have a great respect for the audience—because if the audience ain’t there... I don’t care how great they are, or how great they think they are, if people don’t come to admire what you have, you’re in a world of trouble. So you have to learn how to respect them. The audience are a part of the music in jazz—the great part of it.
It’s the spirit of the thing. Music only washes away the dust of everyday life—that’s what it’s supposed to do.
If you don’t make ‘em happy, so they forget about what’s going on out there, you have failed. That’s your job, to do that. They didn’t come in to be taught about it; they came for the feeling—that’s what counts. Not the notes of anything—it’s the feeling of the music that is the most important thing. If you can make the people feel good, then that’s it.
No, I don’t hear musicians while travelling around that I’d consider for the band—I wish I did. We just don’t have time for that... I’m only a human being, you know. I am my own booking agent; I run my own corporation; I have too much time to be a listener—I don’t listen to my own records. Simply because: if I listen, I have big ears, and if I liked something, I’d be copying it, unconsciously.
So then that stops my creativity. I like to be looked at as an innovator, finding new things—the music is changing every day. If I listen, that’ll hold me up.
Because I’m selftaught—I had no kind of training at all—I’ve been in music a long time. Before drums, I played piano—and I was just lucky. I had it in my mind and in my heart that what I wanted to do was play jazz—luckily, that’s what I did. As for having a natural gift—I’m glad it was, because I had to eat in those times! I’m a Depression baby, and it was much easier for me than it is for the young people today. They have so many choices, but I was told what to do—and it’s much easier to do something when you’re told to do it than it is to make a choice. When there are no alternatives, you just get in there and do it.
Sure, I was with Dizzy, Bird, Monk. And before that I was with Fletcher Henderson, Mary Lou Williams, Buddy De Franco—I’ve always been lucky like that. It helped that they were great, but the idea of it was to be flexible enough to play with different people. You play over here with Duke Ellington—you play this way; over here with Count Basie, you play different; with Billy Eckstine, you play different. I always say: let the punishment fit the crime—that’s what I try to do. I don’t go over in Duke Ellington’s band and try to play Art BlakeyI just play Duke Ellington. But most of the time through my career I had my own band—so I didn’t have to worry.
Like everybody else, I learned as I went along. It’s the idea of knowing your instrument, mastering it, and when you get up onstage the public is involved too—from the creator to the artist direct to the audience. So there’s no music like that. Your audience can make you play very good—what we call over the top. We don’t even know what we’re playing. It’s so fantastic—you can improvise because of the feeling that they give you. It’s a rapport back and forth.
Schooling doesn’t make a jazz musician either—you have to get it together. It’s like, you go to the university and they give you a diploma in whatever—now you’re equipped to go out and get an education. That’s what it’s all about. They come out and learn how to play jazz. If knowledge gained is not applied, it’s not knowledge at all; so they have to apply what they have learned.
But it’s true there have been some who didn’t do their homework! So they have been successful, as far as making money? That don’t mean nothing—there will come a time when you separate the sheep from the goats.
That’s what’s gonna happen to ‘em. The idea of it is: you don’t have to pay no attention to what they’re trying to do. You have a lot of stuff out they call jazz—it’s not jazz, because it doesn’t swing. You gotta swing. A lot of times, a lot of kids are looking for a short route—they want to start at the top, or threefourths of the way to the top, instead of starting at the bottom. You can’t do that—you have to start like everybody else, and learn, and get out there. But they come out and just play—and want to play anything. It’s just gimmicks—they fade away. If they want to waste their time like that, it’s all right—that’s their life and that’s their time. They don’t realise.
If they fool the public when they label it jazz, it’s because the critics and everything turn the people’s heads.
They come and say: “Soandso is this”, but they don’t know that critics don’t make musicians—musicians make musicians. All they know is what they hear the musicians say. Some critics are good and straightahead—they tell the truth. Because you can’t come with a tonguein–thecheek idea; if a person is doing something, you call a spade a spade. Very few of ’em come with the truth; they want to make controversy, or this guy said this about another musician—it doesn’t make sense. If one musician puts down another, he’s putting himself down—but they always get up into that trap.
I don’t care what they say, as long as they spell my name right! Time will tell, you know. They’re entitled to their opinion—if that’s their opinion. If they’re saying it because they heard somebody else say it, that’s hearsay.
And when they take that and use it, and that changes the people’s heads toward jazz—that’s what makes it so hard.
The truth is stranger than fiction, and people are afraid of the truth.
You’re born, your destination is death—it’s what you did in between. I don’t know if I did everything right, but I did the best I possibly could—I have no fear about anything. I can’t set the world on fire—all I do is just try to light a candle where I am; I just go about my life. I try to play the right way, do the best I can and present it, because it’s music.
The kids today, though, are something else. We come to the UK, but I hadn’t been to Ronnie Scott’s for that long time, because we’ve been playing discos. People used to claim they couldn’t dance to jazz—and they said that because they couldn’t dance themselves, to any kind of music. The drum is the most important thing—and they dance. Kids get put down for what they do, just like we get put down for jazz—the way they dress, act, dance, communicate. Well, we did some strange things when we were young—I know I did. Sure—that’s part of being young. A lot of ‘em are creative—I think they’re just wonderful. To go to these places and see them kids out there dancing to that music—that’s something else! So they’re more sophisticated than those old fogeys back there who said they can’t dance to it. And by having so many children of my own, I have a better chance to see that. With different generations coming along, I notice, with my children, that each one that comes along later is smarter than the other generation. Much smarter, and it always has been. Girls mature much faster than boys... so you watch this thing, and you watch the growth.
Now, my two year old, who’s doing so well on Sesame Street, is really sophisticated. He knows about music—how to play the drums—just by watching me. You can’t do nothing before him—he’ll get you. I never taught him a thing—he gets up there and he dances.
His name is Akirathat’s the name of my corporation too. He’s got a Japanese name, because my son before him is partJapanese—his name is Tokashi. Their name is Buhaina, as mine is; I gave ‘em their own identity—I don’t call ‘em Blakey. I asked my son of seventeen: “Do you want to be a musician?” He said: “Hell no, pop—I don’t want to be in your shadow. I want to be an architect.
That’s your thing; you got it—I want my thing over here.” That makes a lot of sense to me, and I’m gonna break my neck to get him in the best schools to be an architect. I’m not going to push him to be a musician.
But the baby’s got that sign of natural talent—if he wants to be in show business, go ahead. They’re so smart now, and they’ve got such a hell of a memory. I sit down and say: “I couldn’t do that when I was a kid.” Well, these kids got television, records—things I never had—they know exactly what they want to do. I learned a lot about ‘em—I had fourteen of ‘em. I raised fourteen—I didn’t have ‘em. I wasn’t the putative father, but I adopted a lot of kids, because I love ‘em. I was an orphan, and I guess that works up here; I just like a family—it makes me push harder. It gives me something to live for. I learn from ‘em—I really can learn from kids. And when the young guys come in the band, I learn things from them.
As far as I have seen, jazz is the highest level of performance on a musical instrument. It’s a spiritual music—there’s no music like it. And people don’t realise... they go up there—they don’t see no music up there. We don’t know what we’re going to play; when they hit, everything is: “Bam! bam!” just like that, on time, like they were reading music up there. And you never hear the same arrangement twice. We make so many mistakes—I do, because I’m changing things around. But they’re profes-sional enough to cover it. If they make a mistake, I teach ‘em: go back, make that same mistake, and make something out of it. Because that’s the way jazz was born—somebody goofed! So you just go ahead; it’s not a mistake—you just build.
So the young musicians are beginning to get the idea. Don’t get the idea that you wrote the book, and you know this is right; it isn’t right—you can’t say that. All you’re doing is: you’re striving to reach out and learn.
The longer I play and the older I get—every time I get up on the drums, I find out what a dum–dum I really am.
You never know it all. Sometimes I get off the stage, and I think I played pretty good; I know I give my heart every time—I say: “Wow, that sounded good to me.” Then I look back up at that stand, and look at the drums, and the drums say: “Come on back up here—you think you’re so smart... . That’s what keeps you going. There’s always something new—and somebody will come up with something else. It’s always changing. Music is like a river: it’s got to flow, and it must change—and if it doesn’t flow, it becomes stagnant, and kills everybody around it.
You know what I really believe... there’s no country like the United States—there’s so many diversities, so many factions... what has to happen is going to be difficult, and it’s going to take time. We have jazz in colleges now, but it’s all gotten so political that the teachers they have in there teaching jazz don’t know anything about it.
And they’ve got these eighteen–and twenty–piece jazz bands in there. I think this is very wrong, because if the blind lead the blind they all fall in the ditch. They have to have musicians out there in the field—artists in residence, to play there and teach those kids. As it’s going now in the States—Florida University, Indiana, all the places we play out there—they’re going to get tired of it, and there won’t be no interest, because the kids know that the teachers don’t know what they’re talking about.
We did a concert, after a week of working with the kids out there; we did a ballad—Terence Blanchard played “I Thought About You”. This teacher thought it was something Wayne Shorter wrote—it’s a pop tune.
And he’d never heard “Blues March” before. Now, he’s teaching a twenty–piece orchestra.
Then you’ve got other places right there in New York, all in so–called ‘black neighbourhoods’. They’ve got a school there in Brownsville, with a black principal, a black assistant principal—but down in the basement they’ve got a big cellar full of slightly used instruments, and they’re locked up and the kids don’t even use ‘em; they don’t even have a band. How stupid can you get? So I told the Board of Education: “You got all this stuff down here—why don’t you let these kids play it? If he blows a horn he’ll never blow a safe!” But they don’t do that.
Now these principals, with their ‘black this’ and ‘black that’—they’re sitting around on their behinds, waiting for their pensions. And I don’t think that’s fair.
They’ve got to take out all that garbage they try to teach—in Juilliard, everywhere—like, jazz is a nasty word, and really teach them kids jazz, because it’s the American art form. When they learn how to play that, they can bring their symphony orchestras back—boy, you’ll hear something you’ve never heard before. But they ain’t got sense enough to know that. They’re so busy putting down jazz—it’s here to stay, and they can easily see that.
They don’t want to recognise the spirituality of it.
They’ve got the music up there, playing what the masters wrote a hundred years ago. But that’s a note; damn the note—it’s the feeling that counts. You put a note down there—that ain’t what he played. You don’t know how he felt at the time he played it and wrote it—it’s impossible.
So why not go ahead and do it the right way—and let it come from here.
People are sitting up there stiff as a board, and if you were to bring ’em up on the bandstand where jazz is, they would be lost! They’d be swamped; they wouldn’t know what to do. But you can take the jazz musician and put him out there in a symphony orchestra—he’d play the hell out of the music. That’s the difference.
Sure, Wynton is not the only man who can go on both sides, Clifford Brown, Fats Navarro, all them guys could go on both sides. So could Doug Mettome, who people’ve never heard of—he’s white; he played with Billy Eckstine. And Charlie Shavers—those men are giants. Yeah—and people like Eddie Daniels today. They can come up and play some jazz; or go over the other side.
And I can’t understand why they can’t see that, and why they’re so ready to put it down. I can’t put their music down—I like some of them composers, man. And what could be done with that music, instead of the guys sitting up there and they think they’re playing it like they did it back then. No—that’s another time, another era.
Music is a hell of a therapy; when kids play it, they love it—and there are no problems with ‘em. I know.
That’s the way it is in Brazil—all them kids know about music, and that holds together; the people have never had uprisings and fighting, because of the music. You get mad about something- they start singing and playing, and you forget all about it. I’m telling you—I know the power of that music down there.
Down in Baia, they kidnapped us one morning, and we were so tired—we’d been up for two days. The mother was in the kitchen cooking; they had a stone floor, and she took some sandpaper, started singing and working this sandpaper on the floor. Each kid ran and got his little drum, the father got the mandolins—and there we sat for the next three hours. They were going up and down with the music, and we forgot about how tired we were. I never heard a family like that—after they played one tune, they’d switch instruments; I never saw nothing like that.
They came to New York—Carnegie Hall. At that time they were under a dictatorship, and they had to pay a thousand dollars apiece to get out, but all that’s over now.
But that music—it’s not jazz; it’s Brazilian, and it’s swinging. Salsa—it swings, and it’s creative. That thing came right out of a family—a great musical organisation.
Every child plays—fantastic. That shows what can be done.
Then you’ve got the whole thing that’s been happening in Japan. It’s only through Japan that all these things are coming back on Blue Note. We were the first organised jazz group to enter Japan, years ago—got no publicity whatsoever, and I had the best jazz group in the United States or any place else. I’ve been in Japan fifty times—now, those people are not fools. I’ve just come back from there, and I’m ready to go back next year.
All the big record companies in the States had better watch out—the Japanese are going to swallow ‘em up! They think they know it all—the same thing as manufacturing, tooling and all that stuff. They thought they had it all sewn up, and here comes Japan with them automobiles. In the States now, every automobile you look at is Japanese.
They’re not a creative people, but they sure can take something and copy it and make it go. That’s their thing—they’re very smart. Years ago I was sitting talking to some of their politicians; I said: “The United States kicked your butt—you lost the war!” They said: “Yes, Mr Blakey—we lost the war, but we won a big peace. A great big peace!” Everybody was putting ‘em down, but now everybody has woke up to what’s going on. General Motors and all the rest of ‘em will have to improve—or they’re going under.
They could even make a change from all that bad music that gets sold in millions and millions. I heard one of these guys playing piano, on such a low level—I said: “What happened to Art Tatum?” Well, the Japanese’ll bring Art Tatum out—watch and see. Because they know.
I used to see Arthur Rubinstein and Leonard Bernstein sitting down there watching this man, partially blind, play the way he did. And Rubinstein was full of praise for the great gift he recognised. Every morning they’d all be uptown jamming—Coleman Hawkins, Earl Hines, Teddy Wilson; Fats Waller would be sitting there playing the piano—when Art Tatum hit the door, he’d stop, and say: “Ladies and gentlemen, quiet, please—God is in the house!” We’d play all night, and till twelve noon the next day—just for the love of it. That was nice—I think that’s what’s supposed to happen in the music. But all of a sudden it just disappeared, and all these other people started coming out with strange music. I listened to it, and I said: “Jeez, that’s really mediocrity—I haven’t got time to listen to that. “ “Ah, but he sold an enormous amount... “I don’t care what he sold—that ain’t it. It’s not the way it goes.” I think it’s ridiculous for people to buy that kind of stuff.
But if they give good jazz the opportunity, play it on the air, and propagate it a little bit, I really think it’ll work. Then the people will make the decision on what they want to hear. It just needs to be properly packaged, and it has to be real. They can try to copy it, but they can’t—the people know the difference.
The closest in copying are the Japanese. They copy the right kind of jazz, but they admit they can’t play it.
They go on with that, because it’s an idea, and it’s there for the whole world to utilise. But I think those who bring forth the original idea should be given the credit.
It may seem easy to copy, but all you finish up with is repetition—over and over. The same thing happens with some of the Latin–American or salsa music—as good as that is, the repetition is what holds it back.
Rhythmically they’re advanced, but the repetition of the music is somewhere else. Now, when you hear the Latin bands in New York, and they’re playing bebop tunes of Charlie Parker, say, or Thelonious Monk with that beat of theirs behind it—fine. But that other stuff that they do—it’s so repetitious.
And that’s what happened to rock. They just play one note, or one chord—they call it the drone—and they sing the same... you listen to it, and one group sounds just like the other. Sometimes it sounds like they’re playing in the same key, with the same chords, and just different lyrics. And the lyrics are really horrible—because they’re not lyricists. Really horrible, but they sell—and that’s ridiculous.
They believe in the cash register, and they can fill football stadiums for these rock bands, with the people screaming and carrying on. You couldn’t put a symphony orchestra out there; neither could you put a jazz group out there—it’s too big, and the music is too intimate.
A guy says to me: “Hey, Blakey—you should have a big house, a swimming pool and everything.” I said: “Well, a house ain’t a home.” “You should have money, man.” I said: “I ain’t worried about that—I don’t have to worry about no big taxes or anything.” I can take care of my family; I raised all of ‘em—fourteen children—never had one problem. I never give ‘em money, gifts or anything; when I take time off my work, I go with my kids and I give ‘em me—that’s what they want. Nobody can call me; they can’t reach me—I am with them kids.
As far as the money’s concerned—I’ve never seen an armoured car following a hearse! Once you see that, you come and tell me. The only thing that follows you to the cemetery is respect—and you’ve got to earn it. And if you lose it, you can’t regain it. So I don’t know what they’re talking about. I see these kids who left my band and went into rock—they’re so unhappy they don’t know what to do. They’re about to commit suicide. No, the money is not the answer.
The answer is in being yourself, and doing what you want to do—you have the choice. If he chose to work in that bag, that’s his life; I told him better, but if he wants to go that way, let him go that way. You see ‘em years later—the most unhappy people I’ve met. I don’t say “I told you so” or nothing like that, but I know the way they are. Some of ‘em—I’m old enough to be their grandfather, and they look like my father; that’s how that has aged ‘em. Because they don’t know who their friends are.
They have alienated themselves from the people. A big rat–race—that’s what it is—and then they can’t get out.
That’s what’s horrible about it—I don’t want that, you know.
I’m very happy with my life. Even though I was an orphan and self–raised, I think I’ve had a better life than most people. By it happening that way, it made a different and a better person out of me—much better. I know what it means to be poor; I know what it is when I see people struggling. And I’m always in fear of becoming poor. I don’t think I ever will be; I don’t think I’ll ever be rich, either. I don’t want to be rich or poor—I just want to take what I need to take care of me and my family, and that’s all I’m interested in.
Maybe other people need a lot of money—I don’t.
People think I’m very funny. I don’t go to funerals; my best friend, Thelonious Monk passed—I didn’t go to his funeral. They said: “Well, Blakey, why didn’t you go?” I said: “Funerals are for people—not for the dead. Once you’ve shown me a person came back from the dead to say: ‘What a wonderful funeral I had’, then I will go to funerals.” That ain’t what it’s all about—when the spirit leaves the body, it’s gone. This is just where the person dwells; this body is a piece of material by which you hear and you see. My eyes are the windows of the soul, and what you hear and what you see—that’s Art Blakey.
Copyright © 1987 Les Tomkins. All Rights Reserved.
https://100greatestjazzalbums.blogspot.com/2005/12/mosaic.html
Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers - Mosaic
Blue Note
Recorded 2nd October 1961 by Rudy Van Gelder at Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Personnel:
Freddie Hubbard (trumpet)
Wayne Shorter (tenor sax)
Curtis Fuller (trombone)
Cedar Walton (piano)
Jymie Merritt (bass)
Art Blakey (drums)
Tracks:
Mosaic, Down Under, Children of the Night, Arabia, Crisis,
Review:
Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers all but defined hard bop. Powered by Art Blakey’s compulsive, polyrhythmic drumming which transformed jazz drumming in the 50s and 60s, a succession of brilliant players who would do so much to shape jazz in the coming decades took their place at the forefront of his music – Horace Silver, Donald Byrd, Jackie McLean, Hank Mobley, Lee Morgan, Wayne Shorter, Freddie Hubbard, Cedar Walton, Curtis Fuller. And following the difficult period in the ‘seventies when mainstream jazz could not find an audience, in the ‘eighties a new generation of Jazz Messengers were inducted and educated in Art Blakey’s band – developing the careers of Wynton Marsalis, Wallace Rooney, Terence Blanchard and Mulgrew Miller.
The two greatest line-ups featured Lee Morgan and Wayne Shorter (1960 –1961) and then Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter and Curtis Fuller (1961 – 1964). The first line up produced the great albums “A Night In Tunisia”, “Roots and Herbs”, “The Freedom Rider” and “The Witch Doctor”; the second line up produced the even better albums “Mosaic”, “Buhaina’s Delight” and “Free For All”. “Indestructible!” is a further hybrid when Lee Morgan then rejoined for one album, replacing Freddie Hubbard but keeping the sextet format in place. The addition of Curtis Fuller on trombone allowed a fuller, more complex harmonic approach to be taken and, if anything to then allow the hard rhythmic underpinnings of the music to become the more intense (listen to, for example, “Hammerhead” or “Free For All” on the “Free For All” album where the music becomes as heavy as any jazz played anywhere)
Art Blakey had learned piano in his home town of Pitsburgh and had his own big band by the age of fifteen. He switched to drums when Errol Garner took over the piano slot and the rest, as they say, is history. By 1939 he was touring with the Fletcher Henderson band before joining Billy Eckstein three years later in New York. Gigging brought him sessions with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. By1948, he had visited Africa to learn polyrhythmic drumming and also took up Islam, adopting the name Abdullah Ibn Buhaina, and being referred to as “Bu” by friends and colleagues. 1955 was the year of the partnership with Horace Silver that led to the first Jazz Messengers band. When Horace Silver left, the name remained with Art Blakey and became a premier rallying point for new jazz talent over the next thirty five years.
“Mosaic” finds the band in 1961 with the partnership between Freddie Hubbard, Curtis Fuller and Wayne Shorter in full bloom. The album conveys a maturity and an elegance that sets it above the thrash jazz of “A Night In Tunisia” or ‘Free For All” and yet the music stays true to the spirit of hard bop – challenging, demanding, uplifting, pointing to the possibility of transformation. Beauty in the face of the corruption of the world. A hard beauty that is indestructible. In that sense this is music which is heir to the legacy of the blues.
The increased harmonic range that was obtained by expanding the band to a six-piece and including Curtis Fuller on trombone allows those long blowing melodies with trombone, trumpet and sax playing in unison and often in harmony defiantly to set out the stall for the fragile power of beauty. The underlying rhythm with drums, piano and bass mines out deep troughs of tension and potential betrayal. Solos from Freddie Hubbard, then Wayne Shorter, then Curtis Fuller suggest how the transforming power of the imagination might accomplish a change in the sombre reality, towards the triumph of beauty in the face of an uncertain future, perhaps towards new understanding. This kind of reasoning can go too far of course, but perhaps it is worth it if it offers a taste of the spirit of transformation that lights up this music.
The band has almost a surfeit of compositional talent, with “Mosiac” contributed by Cedar Walton, “Arabia” by Curtis Fuller, “Children of the Night” by Wayne Shorter and “Crisis and “Down Under” both by Freddie Hubbard. It is to be noted that Art Blakey depended on his sidemen in this way throughout his long career.
On “Mosaic” some weird time signature changes are set off by the contrast between Art Blakey’s straight ahead drumming and the undermining vamping chords from Cedar Walton on piano. Above this the three horns hamonise the main themes and break off into a series of vivid solos. Then Art Blakey’s drum solo breaks even this state of equilibrium. This solo could be offered as a summary of his whole career as a jazz drummer. Coming in after four and half minutes has set the scene so fully, he builds from a quiet standing start, producing steadily more complex cross rhythms against the ever steady beat of his own high hat cymbal. Two minutes later and it is complete. No sense of long and boring virtuosity, the intensity remains and has been built higher as the band members come back in for their final restatements.
“Children Of The Night” is a significant composition by Wayne Shorter who many have said was in effect acting as the band’s musical director in this period. The piece, which was later reworked for Wayne Shorter’s 1995 collaboration with Marcus Miller that led to the album “High Life”. It is a complex and haunting theme built around transitions from a C minor 11 base that finally resolves itself as C major7. Wayne Shorter is at his most Coltrane-like here in his inventive sax soloing.
“Down Under”, the first of the Freddie Hubbard compositions is an upfront blues with the uplifting “Pentecostal” feeling that Art Blakey and Horace Silver had somehow appropriated from church music and which became a staple feature of much of their lighter, more danceable themes. Freddie Hubbard understands the form so well that despite the fact that this is his first formal recording date with the Messengers, this could easily be taken as Horace Silver composition.
Curtis Fuller’s “Arabia” has stylistic similarities to “Mosaic”. It has a similar North African feel but it is lighter, more open in concept. The opening trumpet solo by Freddie Hubbard is pure virtuosity. Again, Art Blakey solos, this time at shorter length and perhaps more conventionally but the trademark rock steady 2/4 high hat emphasis remains the linchpin around which the whole piece is organized.
“Crisis” is Freddie Hubbard’s take on the nuclear war threat that occupied so much of people’s attention around the time that led up to the Cuban missiles crisis of 1962. He had earlier recorded his own, longer version in August 1961 and this appears on the Freddie Hubbard album “Ready For Freddie” (see our upcoming detailed review). The version of “Crisis” here is taken at a somewhat brisker pace but conyeys the same sense of build up of tension (on top of an open and appealing bass riff) that is suddenly released in a new, hard blowing theme.
Overall, probably the best of some dozen albums by Art Blakey, any one of which could be cited as essential listening for anyone interested in hard bop and its legacy for mainstream jazz.
BBC Review
This is the kind of reissue that gives jazz a good name.
Just
about every jazz musician of note learned his trade in Art Blakey’s
Jazz Messengers. From the nineteen fifties onwards for thirty years the
group was an evolving jazz workshop. The Messengers was where young
bucks sharpened their improvising and composing skills and became major
stars, under Blakey’s benevolent eye and with the support of his
complete mastery of the art of percussion.
This session, from 1962, features a mouth-watering array of talent including Wayne Shorter, Reggie Workman, and Freddie Hubbard. It’s a slick, fluid, professional set of hard bop at its finest.
Blakey kicks off proceedings with a short, sharp drum feature before a confident, urgent version of the standard “Caravan”. Hubbard’s trumpet attacks the first solo and we’re off into a fluent set of improvisations from each player that are tight, exciting and bristle with expertise.
Throughout Blakey pushes the beat forwards with a lightness of touch, never overwhelming the others but challenging them enough to keep their creativity high. His interchange with pianist Cedar Walton on Shorter’s composition “This Is For Albert” is one of the many highlights.
As you’d expect from any set at this time, there are two ballads: “In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning” and a lovely “Skylark”. These compliment original compositions that offer the kind of technical challenge musicians of this calibre relish. Shorter’s “Sweet n' Sour” is breezy and swinging, with Hubbard particularly compelling. Hubbard’s own “Thermo” keeps everyone on their toes with its tricky, complex theme.
Orrin Keepnews is a veteran jazz producer who oversaw the original session. Now in his eighties, Orrin is reissuing some of the best music he produced. There are detailed liner notes, excellent sound quality, extra tracks and a general air of care, love and respect. This is the kind of reissue that gives jazz a good name.
This session, from 1962, features a mouth-watering array of talent including Wayne Shorter, Reggie Workman, and Freddie Hubbard. It’s a slick, fluid, professional set of hard bop at its finest.
Blakey kicks off proceedings with a short, sharp drum feature before a confident, urgent version of the standard “Caravan”. Hubbard’s trumpet attacks the first solo and we’re off into a fluent set of improvisations from each player that are tight, exciting and bristle with expertise.
Throughout Blakey pushes the beat forwards with a lightness of touch, never overwhelming the others but challenging them enough to keep their creativity high. His interchange with pianist Cedar Walton on Shorter’s composition “This Is For Albert” is one of the many highlights.
As you’d expect from any set at this time, there are two ballads: “In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning” and a lovely “Skylark”. These compliment original compositions that offer the kind of technical challenge musicians of this calibre relish. Shorter’s “Sweet n' Sour” is breezy and swinging, with Hubbard particularly compelling. Hubbard’s own “Thermo” keeps everyone on their toes with its tricky, complex theme.
Orrin Keepnews is a veteran jazz producer who oversaw the original session. Now in his eighties, Orrin is reissuing some of the best music he produced. There are detailed liner notes, excellent sound quality, extra tracks and a general air of care, love and respect. This is the kind of reissue that gives jazz a good name.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Licence. If you choose
to use this review on your site please link back to this page.
http://www.popmatters.com/review/blakeyart-drumsuite/
The highlight, of course, is still the three-part Drum Suite. Recorded, remarkably, in one take without overdubs or written arrangements, it’s a thrill from beginning to end. “The Sacrifice” opens with Specs Wright’s thundering tympani and a traditional African chant by the musicians themselves. The African percussion swells and then dies out as the chanting comes back before a descending, bluesy yet tense Ray Bryant piano part kicks in. And, finally, Blakey jumpstarts the track with his big, heavy sound. Bryant’s festive “Cubano Chant” features catchy call-and-response between piano and Spanish-language vocals. Cellist/bassist Oscar Pettiford’s “Oscalypso” closes the suite in grand fashion. With Bryant’s sultry piano, Candido Camero’s funky bass, and Sabu Martinez’ rolling congas as a foundation, Pettiford plays an amazing fingered solo on a cello that’s been fed through a guitar amp and consequently distorted. This, combined with his use of the instrument’s high end, produces a sound like a modern flanged-out bass. Then the carefully-layered percussion solos take over, with Blakey getting in some killer fills of his own while Wright’s tympani holds everything together. Gradually the piano and bass come back, and Pettiford gets off one last cello solo as the track fades into the moonlight.
Despite all the percussion, Drum Suite never descends into
cacophony. On the contrary, all the elements work together to form
something so carefully interlocking that it can only be natural. And the
Afro-Latin percussion never completely takes over the jazz, as it
sometimes does on subsequent Blakey recordings like Night in Tunisia (1960) and The African Beat (1962). There are few better ways than this to get your blood flowing.
As with the original issue, Drum Suite is complemented by three 1956 takes from one of the many Jazz Messengers lineups. More traditional hard bop arrangements and soloists feature, but the music is only slightly less thrilling. Each tune is punctuated by Blakey’s machine-gun fills, which propel but never overwhelm the composition. No, that’s not a woodpecker stuck in your speakers; it’s Blakey’s unique, tribal-inspired technique, which often uses series of quick rimshots. Often overlooked trumpet player Bill Hardman and saxophonist Jackie McLean lay down some nice solos, too.
This reissue would be well worth owning if it stopped right there. But Legacy has also included the only headlining cuts ever recorded by yet another Jazz Messengers permutation. Both written by trumpet player Donald Byrd, who would shortly go on to establish himself as a bandleader, “L’il T” and “The New Message” are a little rough (they were never intended for release) but excellent, uptempo hard bop nonetheless. In particular, “The New Message” features some irresistible trumpet sparring between Byrd and Ira Sullivan, who doubles on tenor sax. The real revelation here is bassist Wilbur Ware, who dive-bombs into, out of, and around the beat, doing his own groovy thing in a way that fits with the rest of the composition. These cuts aren’t mere barrel-scraping. They’re a revelation.
Legacy has done Blakey et al proud with first-rate sound and thoughtful packaging including lovingly-rendered liner notes by Blakey protégé Kenny Washington. In the end, jazz is about conjuring up feelings. Drum Suite conjures many of them, and they’re all good.
http://www.jazzdisco.org/art-blakey/discography/
ART BLAKEY DISCOGRAPHY: 1944-1990
1944 (age 25)
Billy Eckstine - Mr. B (Ember (E) FA 2010)
Billy Eckstine - Blowing The Blues Away (Swingtime (E) ST 1015)
Billy Eckstine/Maxine Sullivan - Mr. B (Audio Lab AL 1549)
1945
Billy Eckstine - Together (Spotlite (E) SPJ 100)
Billy Eckstine - Blues For Sale (EmArcy MG 36029)
Billy Eckstine - The Love Songs Of Mr. "B" (EmArcy MG 36030)
V.A. - The Advance Guard Of The '40s (EmArcy MG 36016)
Billy Eckstine - You Call It Madness (Regent MG 6058)
Billy Eckstine - Prisoner Of Love (Regent MG 6052)
1946
Billy Eckstine - Mr. B And The Band (Savoy SJL 2214)
Billy Eckstine Sings (Savoy SJL 1127)
Billy Eckstine - My Deep Blue Dream (Regent MG 6054)
Billy Eckstine - I Surrender, Dear (EmArcy MG 36010)
V.A. - Boning Up The 'Bones (EmArcy MG 36038)
Billy Eckstine - Rhythm In A Riff (Soundtrack) (Harlequin (E) HQ 2068)
Miles Davis - Boppin' The Blues (Black Lion (G) BLCD 760102)
1947
Thelonious Monk - Genius Of Modern Music, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1510)
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Thelonious Monk (Mosaic MR4-101)
Thelonious Monk - Genius Of Modern Music, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1511)
Fats Navarro - Fat Girl (Savoy SJL 2216)
Fats Navarro Memorial, Vol. 2 - Nostalgia (Savoy MG 12133)
Dexter Gordon - Dexter Rides Again (Savoy MG 12130)
Dexter Gordon - Long Tall Dexter (Savoy SJL 2211)
Max Roach/James Moody/Art Blakey - New Sounds (Blue Note CDP 7 84436 2)
Ida James - Try A Little Tenderness / Yesterdays (Manor 1107)
Ida James - You're A Fool If You Don't / Let's Do It (Manor 1121)
1948
The Vibes Are On Art Tatum/Thelonious Monk (Chazzer 2002)
James Moody/George Wallington - The Beginning And End Of Bop (Blue Note B 6503)
V.A. - 25 Years Blue Note: Anniversary Album (Blue Note BLP 1001)
1949 (age 30)
Lucky Millinder - Moanin' The Blues / How Would You Know (RCA Victor 20-3430)
Big John Greer - Drinkin' Wine, Spo-Dee-O-Dee / Long Tall Gal (RCA Victor 22-0023)
Big John Greer - I Found A Dream / If I Told You Once (RCA Victor 22-0045)
V.A. - The Be Bop Boys (Savoy SJL 2225)
Big John Greer - Rockin' With Big John / ??? (RCA Victor 22-0137)
1950
Sonny Stitt - Stitt's Bits (Prestige PRLP 7133)
Sonny Stitt - Kaleidoscope (Prestige PRLP 7077)
Here Are Stan Getz And Miles Davis (Kings Of Jazz (It) KLJ 20013)
Miles Davis - Dick Hyman - Sonny Stitt (Ozone 1)
Gene Ammons - Blues Up And Down, Vol. 1 (Prestige PR 7823)
Charlie Parker - Fats Navarro - Bud Powell (Ozone 4)
Charlie Parker - One Night In Birdland (Columbia JG 34808)
Charlie Parker - Bud Powell - Fats Navarro (Ozone 9)
Miles Davis - The Last Bebop Session (Jazz Music Yesterday (It) JMY ME 6401)
The Persuasively Coherent Miles Davis (Alto AL 701)
Hooray For Miles Davis, Vol. 1 (Session Disc 101)
Miles Davis All Stars And Gil Evans (Beppo (E) BEP 502)
Hooray For Miles Davis, Vol. 2 (Session Disc 102)
Charlie Parker - More Unissued, Vol. 2 (Royal Jazz (D) RJD 506)
1951
Dizzy Gillespie - Trane's First Ride 1951 (Oberon 5100)
Dizzy Gillespie - Birks' Works (Duke (It) D-1019)
Dizzy Gillespie - Trane's First Ride 1951, Vol. 2 (Broadcast Tributes 0009)
Dinah Washington - Queen Of The Juke Box "Live" 1948-1955 (Baldwin Street Music BJH 310)
Sonny Stitt - This Can't Be Love / For The Fat Man (Prestige 831 (alt.))
Gene Ammons All Star Sessions (Prestige PRLP 7050)
Dizzy Gillespie - School Days (Regent MG 6043)
Dizzy Gillespie - The Champ (Savoy MG 12047)
Jazz Moods By Illinois Jacquet (Clef MGC 622)
Illinois Jacquet - Groovin' (Clef MGC 702)
Milt Jackson And The Thelonious Monk Quintet (Blue Note BLP 1509)
Zoot Sims Quartets (Prestige PRLP 7026)
Zoot Sims Quartets (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-242-2)
Miles Davis - Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis - Art Blakey (Ozone 7)
J.J. Johnson/Kai Winding/Bennie Green - Trombone By Three (Prestige PRLP 7023)
J.J. Johnson/Kai Winding/Bennie Green - Trombone By Three (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-091-2)
V.A. - Conception (Prestige PRLP 7013)
Miles Davis - Dig (Prestige PRLP 7012)
Sonny Rollins With The Modern Jazz Quartet, Art Blakey, Kenny Drew (Prestige PRLP 7029)
1952
Buddy DeFranco (MGM E 3396)
Buddy DeFranco Quartet (MGM (E) EP 501)
Stan Getz/Zoot Sims/Al Cohn - The Brothers (Prestige PRLP 7022)
Buddy DeFranco With Strings (MGM E 253)
King Pleasure Sings/Annie Ross Sings (Prestige PRLP 7128)
Horace Silver Trio And Art Blakey-Sabu (Blue Note BLP 1520)
Horace Silver - The Trio Sides (Blue Note BN-LA474-H2)
Thelonious Monk Trio (Prestige PRLP 7027)
Lou Donaldson Quartet/Quintet/Sextet (Blue Note BLP 1537)
1953
Buddy DeFranco Quartet (Norgran MGN 1026)
The Buddy DeFranco Quartet (Norgran EPN 123)
Introducing The Kenny Drew Trio (Blue Note (J) BNJ-71002)
Buddy DeFranco - Jazz Tones (Norgran MGN 1068)
Miles Davis - Complete 2nd Session On Blue Note (Blue Note CDP 7 81502 2)
Miles Davis, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1501)
Miles Davis, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1502)
Oscar Peterson Trio And Buddy DeFranco Quartet 1953 Live (Jazz Band (E) EBCD 2111-2)
Gerry Mulligan With Chet Baker And Buddy DeFranco (Gene Norman Presents GNP 56)
Buddy DeFranco - Takes You To The Stars (Gene Norman Presents Vol. 2)
Clifford Brown - More Memorable Tracks (Blue Note (J) BNJ-61001)
Clifford Brown Memorial Album (Blue Note BLP 1526)
Clifford Brown - Brownie Eyes (Blue Note BN-LA267-G)
Hooray For Milt Jackson - John Lewis - Art Blakey - Kenny Dorham (Session Disc 110)
Kenny Dorham 1953, 1956, 1964 (Royal Jazz (D) RJD 515)
Introducing Paul Bley (Original Jazz Classics OJC-201)
Introducing Paul Bley (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-201-2)
Jazz Workshop - Autobiography In Jazz (Debut DEB 198)
Earl Bud Powell, Vol. 2 - Burning In U.S.A., 53-55 (Mythic Sound MS 6002-1)
1954
Art Blakey - Live Messengers (Blue Note BN-LA473-J2)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1522)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 2 (Blue Note (J) NR-8839)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1521)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 1 (Blue Note (J) NR-8838)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 3 (Blue Note (J) BNJ-61002)
V.A. - Mercury 40th Anniversary V.S.O.P. Album (Mercury (J) 25PJ-58/61)
Miles Davis - Blue Haze (Prestige PRLP 7054)
The Complete Art Blakey On EmArcy (EmArcy (J) 195J-10085)
Elmo Hope Trio/Elmo Hope Quintet (Blue Note (J) K18P-9271)
Elmo Hope Trio And Quintet (Blue Note CDP 7 84438 2)
Thelonious Monk - Monk (Prestige PRLP 7053)
Sonny Rollins - Moving Out (Prestige PRLP 7058)
V.A. - The Other Side Of Blue Note 1500 Series (Blue Note (J) BNJ-61008/10)
Introducing Joe Gordon (EmArcy MG 36025)
V.A. - The Jazz School (Wing MGW 60002)
Thelonious Monk And Sonny Rollins (Prestige PRLP 7075)
Horace Silver And The Jazz Messengers (Blue Note BLP 1518)
1955
Clark Terry (EmArcy MG 36007)
The Complete Bud Powell On Verve (Verve 314 521 669-2)
Bud Powell - Jazz Original (Norgran MGN 1017)
Bud Powell's Moods (Norgran MGN 1064)
The Genius Of Bud Powell, Vol. 2 (Verve VE2 2526)
Randy Weston - Trio And Solo (Riverside RLP 12-227)
Kenny Dorham - Afro-Cuban (Blue Note BLP 1535)
Kenny Dorham - Afro-Cuban (Blue Note CDP 7 46815 2)
Julius Watkins Sextet (Blue Note (J) K18P-9273)
The Complete Blue Note Hank Mobley Fifties Sessions (Mosaic MQ10-181)
George Wallington And His Band/Hank Mobley Quartet (Blue Note (J) K18P-9276)
Herbie Nichols Trio (Blue Note (J) K18P-9272)
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Herbie Nichols (Mosaic MR5-118)
Duke Jordan Trio And Quintet (Signal S 1202)
Gigi Gryce Quartet And Orchestra (Signal S 1201)
The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1508)
The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1507)
The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 3 (Blue Note (J) DY-5805-01)
Donald Byrd - Byrd's Eye View (Transition TRLP J-4)
V.A. - Jazz In Transition (Transition TRLP 30)
1956
Thelonious Monk - The Unique (Riverside RLP 12-209)
The Jazz Messengers (Columbia CL 897)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Originally (Columbia FC 38036)
The Cool Voice Of Rita Reys With The Jazz Messengers And The Wessel Ilcken Combo (Philips (Du) B 08006 L)
Metronome All-Stars 1956 (Clef MGC 743)
Stan Getz Special, Vol. 1 (Raretone (It) 5010-FC)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers - Sessions, Live (Calliope CAL 3036)
The Jazz Messengers - Hard Bop (Columbia CL 1040)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Drum Suite (Columbia CL 1002)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Drum Suite (Columbia/Legacy CK 93637)
1957
Milt Jackson - Plenty, Plenty Soul (Atlantic LP 1269)
Hank Mobley And His All Stars (Blue Note BLP 1544)
The Jazz Messengers Featuring Art Blakey - Ritual (Pacific Jazz PJM-402)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers/The Elmo Hope Quintet Featuring Harold Land (Pacific Jazz PJ-33)
A Date With Jimmy Smith, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1547)
The Complete February 1957 Jimmy Smith Blue Note Sessions (Mosaic MQ5-154)
The Sounds Of Jimmy Smith (Blue Note BLP 1556)
A Date With Jimmy Smith, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1548)
Jimmy Smith At The Organ, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1552)
Jimmy Smith At The Organ, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1551)
Cliff Jordan/John Gilmore - Blowing In From Chicago (Blue Note BLP 1549)
Cliff Jordan/John Gilmore - Blowing In From Chicago (Blue Note 7243 8 28977 2)
Art Blakey - Orgy In Rhythm, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1554)
Art Blakey - Orgy In Rhythm, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1555)
A Midnight Session With The Jazz Messengers (Elektra EKL 120)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Mirage (Savoy ZDS 4409)
Hank Mobley Quintet (Blue Note BLP 1550)
V.A. - 40 Years Of Jazz: History Of Blue Note, Box 2 (Blue Note (Du) 1A158-83385/8)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Selections From Lerner And Loewe's... (Vik LAK 1103)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers 1957 - Second Edition (RCA Bluebird 07863 66661-2)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Tough! (Cadet LP 4049)
Johnny Griffin, Vol. 2 - A Blowing Session (Blue Note BLP 1559)
Johnny Griffin, Vol. 2 - A Blowing Session (Blue Note 7243 4 99009 2)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - A Night In Tunisia (Vik LAX 1115)
Art Blakey - Theory Of Art (RCA Bluebird 6286-2-RB)
Sonny Rollins, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1558)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers With Sabu And A Bongo - Cu-Bop (Jubilee JLP 1049)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers With Thelonious Monk - Jazz Connection (Atlantic LP 1278)
Thelonious Monk - The Complete Riverside Recordings (Riverside R 022)
Thelonious Monk/John Coltrane - The Complete 1957 Riverside Recordings (Riverside RCD2 30027-2)
V.A. - Blues For Tomorrow (Riverside RLP 12-243)
Thelonious Monk - Monk's Music (Riverside RLP 12-242)
Thelonious Monk With John Coltrane (Jazzland JLP 46)
Count Basie, Joe Williams And Art Blakey - Sessions, Live (Calliope CAL 3008)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Hard Drive (Bethlehem BCP 6023)
John Coltrane - Bethlehem Years (Bethlehem 20-50012)
Art Blakey Big Band (Bethlehem BCP 6027)
1958
Jimmy Smith - Confirmation (Blue Note LT-992)
Jimmy Smith - House Party (Blue Note BLP 4002)
Jimmy Smith - The Sermon! (Blue Note BLP 4011)
Cannonball Adderley - Somethin' Else (Blue Note BLP 1595)
V.A. - Blue Trails: The Rare Tracks (Blue Note (J) TOCJ-1601)
Tina Brooks - Minor Move (Blue Note (J) GXF-3072)
Jimmy Smith - Cool Blues (Blue Note LT-1054)
Gil Evans - New Bottle Old Wine (World Pacific WP-1246)
V.A. - The Sound Of Big Band Jazz In Hi-Fi! (World Pacific WP-1257)
Kenny Burrell - Swingin' (Blue Note (J) GXF-3070)
Kenny Burrell - Blue Lights, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1596)
Kenny Burrell - Blue Lights, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1597)
Jimmy Smith - Six Views Of The Blues (Blue Note 7243 5 21435 2)
Jimmy Smith - The Singles (Blue Note (J) K18P-9280)
Cannonball Adderley/Milt Jackson - Things Are Getting Better (Riverside RLP 12-286)
Cannonball Adderley/Milt Jackson - Things Are Getting Better (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-032-2)
Cannonball Adderley - Cannonball And Eight Giants (Milestone M-47001)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Moanin' (Blue Note BLP 4003)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Moanin' (Blue Note CDP 7 46516 2)
Art Blakey - Drums Around The Corner (Blue Note 7243 5 21455 2)
Art Blakey - Holiday For Skins, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 4004)
Art Blakey - Holiday For Skins, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 4005)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Live In The 50's (Jazz Band (E) EBCD 2128-2)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - 1958-Paris Olympia (Fontana (F) 680 202 ML)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Olympia Concert (Mercury (F) 6444700)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Zurich 1958 (SOLAR 4569881)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Des Femmes Disparaissent (Soundtrack) (Fontana (F) 660 224 MR)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz-Messengers Au Club St. Germain, Vol. 1 (RCA (F) 430.043)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz-Messengers Au Club St. Germain, Vol. 2 (RCA (F) 430.044)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz-Messengers Au Club St. Germain, Vol. 3 (RCA (F) 430.045)
1959 (age 40)
Blue Mitchell - Out Of The Blue (Riverside RLP 12-293)
V.A. - New Blue Horns (Riverside RLP 12-294)
Sonny Clark - My Conception (Blue Note (J) GXF-3056)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 4015)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 4016)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers Avec Barney Wilen - Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960 (Soundtrack) (Fontana (F) 680 203 ML)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers Avec Barney Wilen - Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960 (Soundtrack) (Fontana (J) 28JD-10169)
Kenny Burrell - On View At The Five Spot Cafe (Blue Note BLP 4021)
Benny Golson - Groovin' With Golson (New Jazz NJLP 8220)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Copenhagen 1959 (Royal Jazz (D) RJD 516)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Africaine (Blue Note LT-1088)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz Messengers Au Theatre Des Champs-Elysees (RCA (F) 430.054)
Art Blakey - Are You Real (Moon (It) MCD 071-2)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Stockholm 1959 (Dragon (Swd) DRCD 182)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Live In Berlin 1959/1962 (Jazz Up (It) JU 321)
Art Blakey/Bud Powell/Barney Wilen/Wayne Shorter/Lee Morgan - Paris Jam Session (Fontana (F) 680 207 TL)
1960
Alternate Takes Of Here's Lee Morgan (Vee-Jay (J) FHCY-1002)
V.A. - Alternate Sessions At The Early '60s (Vee-Jay (J) RJL-2640)
Hank Mobley - Soul Station (Blue Note BLP 4031)
Lee Morgan - Genius (Tradiition 2079)
Lee Morgan (GNP Crescendo GNPS 2-2074)
Here's Lee Morgan (Vee-Jay VJLP 3007)
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Art Blakey's 1960 Jazz Messengers (Mosaic MR10-141)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Big Beat (Blue Note BLP 4029)
Dizzy Reece - Comin' On (Blue Note 7243 5 22019 2)
The Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Drums Ablaze (Alto AL 720)
The Electric Sticks Of Buddy Rich (Alto AL 721)
Art Blakey/Charlie Persip/Elvin Jones/"Philly" Joe Jones - Gretsch Drum Night At Birdland (Roulette R-52049)
Art Blakey/Charlie Persip/Elvin Jones/"Philly" Joe Jones - Gretsch Drum Night At Birdland, Vol. 2 (Roulette R-52067)
Lee Morgan - Lee-Way (Blue Note BLP 4034)
Hooray For Art Blakey, Vol. 1 (Session Disc 116)
Lee Morgan - More Birdland Sessions (Fresh Sound (Sp) FSCD-1029)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Like Someone In Love (Blue Note BLP 4245)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - A Night In Tunisia (Blue Note BLP 4049)
Bobby Timmons - Soul Time (Riverside RLP 334)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Meet You At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 4055)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Meet You At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 4054)
The Complete Vee Jay Lee Morgan - Wayne Shorter Sessions (Mosaic MD6-202)
Wayne Shorter - Second Genesis (Vee-Jay VJS 3057)
Lee Morgan - Expoobident (Vee-Jay VJLP 3015)
Lee Morgan - Expoobident (Vee-Jay NVJ2-901)
Hank Mobley - Roll Call (Blue Note BLP 4058)
Hank Mobley - Roll Call (Blue Note CDP 7 46823 2)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Stockholm 1960 (Dragon (Swd) DRLP 137)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Lausanne 1960, Part 1: Swiss Radio Days Jazz Series, Volume 2 (TCB (Swi) TCB 02022)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Lausanne 1960, Part 2: Swiss Radio Days Jazz Series, Volume 6 (TCB (Swi) TCB 02062)
1961
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - A Day With Art Blakey 1961 (Baybridge (J) 30CP-23/24)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Tokyo 1961 (somethin'else (J) RJ28-5503)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Pisces (Blue Note (J) GXF-3060)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Roots And Herbs (Blue Note BST 84347)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Freedom Rider (Blue Note BLP 4156)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Witch Doctor (Blue Note BST 84258)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Featuring Wayne Shorter En Concert Avec Europe 1 (Trema (F) TR 710373/374)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers (Alamode) (Impulse! A-7)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Mosaic (Blue Note BLP 4090)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buhaina's Delight (Blue Note BLP 4104)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buhaina's Delight (Blue Note CDP 7 84104 2)
1962
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Grant Green With Sonny Clark (Mosaic MR5-133)
Grant Green - Nigeria (Blue Note LT-1032)
Ike Quebec - Congo Lament (Blue Note LT-1089)
Ike Quebec - Easy Living (Blue Note CDP 7 46846 2)
Art Blakey And The Afro-Drum Ensemble - The African Beat (Blue Note BLP 4097)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - 3 Blind Mice (United Artists UAJ 14002)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - 3 Blind Mice, Vol. 1 (Blue Note CDP 7 84451 2)
Hooray For Art Blakey, Vol. 2 (Session Disc 117)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Caravan (Riverside RLP 438)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Caravan (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-038-2)
Art Blakey/Freddie Hubbard/Horace Silver/Max Roach - Europa Jazz (Europa Jazz (It) EJ 1035)
1963
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers At Birdland - Ugetsu (Riverside RLP 464)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers At Birdland - Ugetsu (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-090-2)
Art Blakey/Max Roach/Elvin Jones/Philly Joe Jones - The Big Beat (Milestone M-47016)
Art Blakey - A Jazz Message (Impulse! A-45)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Golden Boy (Colpix CP 478)
1964
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Free For All (Blue Note BLP 4170)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Kyoto (Riverside RLP 493)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Indestructible (Blue Note BLP 4193)
Lee Morgan - Tom Cat (Blue Note LT-1058)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - 'S Make It (Limelight LM 82001)
Leonard Feather's Encyclopedia Of Jazz: Jazz Of The '60s, Vol. 2: Blues Bag (Vee-Jay VJLP 2506)
V.A. - I/We Had A Ball (Limelight LM 82002)
1965
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Soulfinger (Limelight LM 82018)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Hold On, I'm Coming (Limelight LM 82038)
Sonny Rollins Quintet In Europe (Unique Jazz UJ 29)
1966
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buttercorn Lady (Limelight LM 82034)
1968
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live! (Trip TLX 5034)
Art Blakey - Moanin' (Laserlight 17127)
1969 (age 50)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Mellow Blues (Moon (It) MCD 032-2)
1970
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Jazz Messengers '70 (Victor (J) SMJX-10086)
1971
Dizzy Gillespie And Thelonious Monk With The Giants Of Jazz - Unissued In Europe 1971 (Gambit (Sp) 69301-2)
Bop Fathers - In Paris (Joker (J) ULS-141/142-KR)
The Giants Of Jazz - Live In Prague 1971 (Impro-Jazz (Eu) IJ512)
The Giants Of Jazz And Dizzy Gillespie Quintet - Live (Jazz Door (G) JD 1277)
Giants Of Jazz - In Berlin '71 (EmArcy (J) 20PJ-10108)
Giants Of Jazz - In Berlin '71 (EmArcy 834 567-2)
Thelonious Monk/Dizzy Gillespie - Giants Of Jazz: Copenhagen 1971 (Standing Oh! Vation (Eu) OH44649)
The Giants Of Jazz (Atlantic SD 2-905)
Thelonious Monk - Something In Blue (Black Lion (E) BLP 30119)
Thelonious Monk - The Man I Love (Black Lion (E) BLP 30141)
Thelonious Monk - The London Collection: Volume Three (Black Lion (G) BLCD 760142)
The Complete Black Lion And Vogue Recordings Of Thelonious Monk (Mosaic MR4-112)
1972
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Child's Dance (Prestige P-10047)
V.A. - Newport In New York '72: The Jam Sessions, Vol. 3&4 (Cobblestone CST 9026-2)
Art Blakey And The Giants Of Jazz - Live At The 1972 Monterey Jazz Festival (Monterey Jazz Festival Records MJF-30882-25)
Giants Of Jazz (EmArcy (J) 20PJ-10090)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers - Art's Break! (Joker (J) UPS-2060-KR)
1973
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Anthenagin (Prestige P-10076)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buhaina (Prestige P-10067)
1975
Sonny Stitt With Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In Walked Sonny (Sonet (E) SNTF 691)
Sonny Stitt With Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In Walked Sonny (Sonet (E) SNTCD 691)
1976
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Backgammon (Roulette SR-5003)
V.A. - Jazz Na Koncertnom Podiju, Vol. 2 (Jugoton (Yu) LSY 61417)
V.A. - It Happened In Pescara 1969-1989 (Philology (It) W 100/101)
1977
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Gypsy Folk Tales (Roulette SR-5008)
Art Blakey And Jazz Messengers - Heat Wave (Meldac Jazz (J) MECJ-30010)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime, Vol. 1 (Timeless (Du) SJP 114)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime, Vol. 1 (Timeless (US) TI 301)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime, Vol. 2 (Timeless (Du) SJP 118)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime I (Timeless (Du) CD SJP 319)
1978
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In This Korner (Concord Jazz CJ-68)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In This Korner (Concord Jazz CCD-4068)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers III - Reflections In Blue (Timeless (Du) SJP 128)
1979 (age 60)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Night In Tunisia: Digital Recording (Philips (Du) 6385 943)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - One By One (Palcoscenico (It) PAL 15005)
1980
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Jazzbuhne Berlin '80, Vol. 9 (Repertoire (G) RR 4909-WZ)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers Big Band - Live At Montreux And Northsea (Timeless (Du) SJP 150)
Dexter Gordon - Gotham City (Columbia JC 36853)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Featuring Wynton Marsalis '80, Vol. 1 (Break Time (J) BRJ-4039)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Featuring Wynton Marsalis '80, Vol. 2 (Break Time (J) BRJ-4040)
Wynton Marsalis - First Recordings (Kingdom Jazz (E) GATE 7013)
1981
Art Blakey In Sweden (Amigo (Swd) AMPL 839)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers - Album Of The Year (Timeless (Du) SJP 155)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Straight Ahead (Concord Jazz CJ-168)
Aurex Jazz Festival '81 - Allstar Jam Session (Eastworld (J) EWJ-80208)
Aurex Jazz Festival '81 - Live Special (Eastworld (J) EWJ-80254)
George Kawaguchi/Art Blakey - Killer Joe (Union Jazz (J) 30CH-39)
1982
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Keystone 3 (Concord Jazz CJ-196)
Art Blakey And The All Star Jazz Messengers (RCA (F) PL 45365)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers - Oh-By The Way (Timeless (Du) SJP 165)
1983
Art Blakey And The All Star Jazz Messengers - Caravan (Baystate (J) RJL-8071)
Aurex Jazz Festival '83 - Art Blakey And All Star Jazz Messengers (Eastworld (J) EWJ-80270)
1984
Art Blakey And The All Star Jazz Messengers - A Groovy Night With The Magnificent Six (Baystate (J) R32J-1053)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - New York Scene (Concord Jazz CJ-256)
1985
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Live At Ronnie Scott's - BBC Legends (BBC Legends (E) BBCJ 7003-2)
V.A. - One Night With Blue Note, Vol. 3 (Blue Note BT 85115)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Live At Ronnie Scott's (DRG 91444)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Blue Night (Timeless (Du) SJP 217)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Blue Night (Timeless (Du) CD SJP 217)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Farewell (Paddle Wheel (J) KICJ-41/42)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live At Sweet Basil (Paddle Wheel (J) K28P-6357)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Hard Champion (Paddle Wheel (J) K32Y-6209)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live At Kimball's (Concord Jazz CJ-307)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - New Year's Eve At Sweet Basil (Paddle Wheel (J) 240E-6831)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Dr. Jeckyle (Paddle Wheel (J) K32Y-6183)
1986
Art Blakey And Jazz Messengers (Arco 3 ARC 107/IMS 3 ARC 107)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Feeling Good (Delos D/CD 4007)
1987
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Blue Moon (Zounds CD 2720010)
1988
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Not Yet (Soul Note (It) SN 1105)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Standards (Paddle Wheel (J) 292E-6026)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - 70 Years Anniversary: Special Edition, Vol. 1 (Alfa Jazz (J) 32R2-26)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - I Get A Kick Out Of Bu (Soul Note (It) SN 1155)
1989 (age 70)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - The Art Of Jazz (IN+OUT Records (G) IOR CD 77028-2)
1990 (aged 71)
Art Blakey And The New Jazzmessengers 90 - Chippin' In: The Birth Of New Funky (Alfa Jazz (J) ALCR-36)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Last Drum Solo (Alfa Jazz (J) ALCR-76)
Art Blakey/Dr. John/David Newman - Bluesiana Triangle (Windham Hill Jazz WD 0125)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - One For All (A&M 75021 5329-2)
Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - “Moanin’"
Live in concert in 1959:
Art Blakey – drums
Lee Morgan – trumpet
Benny Golson – tenor saxophone
Bobby Timmons – piano
Jymie Merritt – bass
Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - “Night in Tunisia"
Live in concert in 1958:
BELGIUM - 1958
Drums: Art Blakey
Trumpet: Lee Morgan
Sax: Benny Golson
Piano: Bobby Timmons
Bass: Jymie Merritt
Trumpet: Freddie Hubbard
Tenor Sax: Wayne Shorter
Trombone: Curtis Fuller
Piano: Cedar Walton
Contrabass: Reggie Workman
Recorded Live in San Remo Italy - March 23, 1963
Drums: Art Blakey
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Art_Blakey
Arthur "Art" Blakey (October 11, 1919 – October 16, 1990) was an American jazz drummer and bandleader. He was known as Abdullah Ibn Buhaina after he became a Muslim.[1]
Blakey made a name for himself in the 1940s in the big bands of Fletcher Henderson and Billy Eckstine. He worked with bebop musicians Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. In the mid-1950s Horace Silver and Blakey formed the Jazz Messengers, a group that the drummer was associated with for the next 35 years. The Jazz Messengers were formed as a collective of contemporaries, but over the years the band became known as an incubator for young talent, including Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Lee Morgan, Benny Golson, and Wynton Marsalis. The Biographical Encyclopedia of Jazz calls the Jazz Messengers "the archetypal hard bop group of the late 50s".[2]
He was inducted into the Down Beat Jazz Hall of Fame (in 1981),[3] the Grammy Hall of Fame (in 1998 and 2001), and was awarded the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2005.[4] He was inducted into the Modern Drummer Hall of Fame in 1991.[5]
Equally clouded by contradiction are stories of Blakey's early music career. It is agreed by several sources that by the time he was in seventh grade, Blakey was playing music full-time and had begun to take on adult responsibilities, playing the piano to earn money and learning to be a band leader.[8][9][10][11] He switched from piano to drums at an uncertain date in the early 1930s. An oft-quoted account of the event states that Blakey was forced at gunpoint to move from piano to drums by a club owner, to allow Erroll Garner to take over on piano.[6]:6–8[8]:1[12][13] The veracity of this story is called into question in the Gourse biography, as Blakey himself gives other accounts in addition to this one.[6]:6–8 The style Blakey assumed was "the aggressive swing style of Chick Webb, Sid Catlett and Ray Bauduc".[6]:8–10[10]
From 1939-44, Blakey played with fellow Pittsburgh native Mary Lou Williams and toured with the Fletcher Henderson Orchestra. While sources differ on the timing, most agree that he traveled to New York with Williams in 1942 before joining Henderson a year later.[2][6]:10[9][14] (Some accounts have him joining Henderson as early as 1939.[13][15][16]) While playing in Henderson's band, Blakey got into a scuffle with Georgia police[17] and suffered injures that got him declared unfit for service in WWII.[6]:11 He then led his own band at the Tic Toc Club in Boston for a short time.[2][6]:11–12[13]
From 1944-47, Blakey worked with Billy Eckstine's big band.[2] Through this band, Blakey became associated with the bebop movement, along with his fellow band members Miles Davis, Dexter Gordon, Fats Navarro, Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker and Sarah Vaughan among others.[8][18][19]
After the Eckstine band broke up, Blakey states that he traveled to Africa for a time: "In 1947, after the Eckstine band broke up, we -- took a trip to Africa. I was supposed to stay there three months and I stayed two years because I wanted to live among the people and find out just how they lived and -- about the drums especially."[20] Blakey is known to have recorded in 1947, 1948 and 1949.[21] He studied and converted to Islam during this period, taking the name Abdullah Ibn Buhaina, although he stopped being a practicing Muslim in the 1950s[1] and continued to perform under the name "Art Blakey" throughout his career.[9]
As the 1950s began, Blakey was backing musicians such as Davis, Parker, Gillespie, Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk;[21] he is often considered to have been Monk's most empathetic drummer,[22] and he played on both Monk's first recording session as a leader (for Blue Note Records in 1947) and his final one (in London in 1971), as well as many in between.[21] Blakey toured with Buddy DeFranco from 1951 to 1953[2] in a band that also included Kenny Drew.[6]:25
On December 17, 1947, Blakey led a group known as "Art Blakey's Messengers" in his first recording session as a leader, for Blue Note Records. The records were released as 78 rpm records at the time, and two of the songs were released on the "New Sounds" 10" LP compilation (BLP 5010). The octet included Kenny Dorham, Sahib Shihab, Musa Kaleem, and Walter Bishop, Jr.[21]
Around the same time (1947),[2][10] or 1949[6]:20[8] he led a big band called Seventeen Messengers. The band proved to be financially unstable and broke up soon after.[6]:20 The use of the Messengers tag finally stuck with the group co-led at first by both Blakey and pianist Horace Silver, though the name was not used on the earliest of their recordings.[23]
The "Jazz Messengers" name was first used for this group on a 1954 recording nominally led by Silver, with Blakey, Mobley, Dorham and Doug Watkins[24] – the same quintet recorded The Jazz Messengers at the Cafe Bohemia the following year, still functioning as a collective.[23] Donald Byrd replaced Dorham, and the group recorded an album called simply The Jazz Messengers for Columbia Records in 1956.[25] Blakey took over the group name when Silver left after the band's first year (taking Mobley and Watkins with him to form a new quintet), and the band name evolved to include Blakey's name, eventually settling upon "Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers". Blakey led the group for the rest of his life.[14]
It was the archetypal hard bop group of the 1950s, playing a driving, aggressive extension of bop with pronounced blues roots.[2] Towards the end of the 1950s, the saxophonists Johnny Griffin and Benny Golson were in turn briefly members of the group.[26][27] Golson, as music director, wrote several jazz standards which began as part of the band book, such as "I Remember Clifford", and "Blues March", and were frequently revived by later editions of the group. "Along Came Betty" and "Are You Real" were other Golson compositions for Blakey.[8]
From 1959-61, the group featured Wayne Shorter on tenor saxophone, Lee Morgan on trumpet, pianist Bobby Timmons and Jymie Merritt on bass.[14] From 1961-64, the band was a sextet that added trombonist Curtis Fuller and replaced Morgan and Timmons with Freddie Hubbard and Cedar Walton, respectively.[14] The group evolved into a proving ground for young jazz talent. While veterans occasionally reappeared in the group, by and large, each iteration of the Messengers included a lineup of new young players. Having the Messengers on one's resume was a rite of passage in the jazz world, and conveyed immediate bona fides.[7][10][14][28]
Many Messenger alumni went on to become jazz stars in their own right, such as: Lee Morgan, Benny Golson, Wayne Shorter, Freddie Hubbard, Bobby Timmons, Curtis Fuller, Chuck Mangione, Keith Jarrett, Joanne Brackeen, Woody Shaw, Wynton Marsalis, Branford Marsalis, Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison and Mulgrew Miller.[7][9][14] For a complete list of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messenger alumni, some of whom did not actually record with the band, see The Jazz Messengers.
Blakey went on to record dozens of albums with a constantly changing group of Jazz Messengers. He had a policy of encouraging young musicians: as he remarked on-mic during the live session which resulted in the A Night at Birdland albums in 1954: "I'm gonna stay with the youngsters. When these get too old I'll get some younger ones. Keeps the mind active."[14] After weathering the fusion era in the 1970s with some difficulty (recordings from this period are less plentiful and include attempts to incorporate instruments like electric piano),[citation needed] Blakey's band was revitalized in the early 1980s with the advent of neotraditionalist jazz. Wynton Marsalis was for a time the band's trumpeter and musical director,[citation needed] and even after Marsalis' departure Blakey's band continued as a proving ground for Johnny O'Neal, Philip Harper, Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison and Kenny Garrett, among others. He continued performing and touring with the group through the end of the 1980s. Ron Wynn notes that Blakey had "played with such force and fury that he eventually lost much of his hearing, and at the end of his life, often played strictly by instinct."[29] He stubbornly refused to wear a hearing aid, arguing that it threw his timing off, so most of the time he played by sensing vibrations. Javon Jackson, who played in Blakey's final lineup, claimed that he exaggerated the extent of his hearing loss. "In my opinion, his deafness was a little exaggerated, and it was exaggerated by him. He didn't hear well out of one ear, but he could hear just fine out the other one. He could hear you just fine when you played something badly and he was quick to say 'Hey, you missed that there.' But anything like 'I don't think I'll be available for the next gig.', he'd say 'Huh? I can't hear you.'" Another bandmate, Geoffrey Keezer, claimed that 'He was selectively deaf. He'd go deaf when you asked him about money, but if it was real quiet and you talked to him one-on-one, then he could hear you just fine.'"[30]
Blakey's final performances were in July 1990.[8][31] He died on October 16 of lung cancer.[2][7][12]
Blakey married four times, and had long-lasting and other relationships throughout his life.[1] He married his first wife, Clarice Stewart, while yet a teen, then Diana Bates (1956), Atsuko Nakamura (1968), and Anne Arnold (1983[35]).[1] He had 10 children from these relationships — daughters Gwendolyn, Evelyn, Jackie, Kadijah, and Sakeena, and sons Art Jr., Takashi, Akira, Kenji and Gamal.[1] Sandy Warren, another longtime companion of Blakey, published a book of reminiscences and favorite food recipes from the period of the late 1970s to early 1980s when Blakey lived in Northfield, New Jersey with Warren and son Takashi.[36][37][38]
Blakey traveled for a year in West Africa (1948) to explore the culture and religion of Islam he would adopt alongside changing his name (see above); Art's conversion to "Bu" took place in the late 1940s at a time when other African-Americans were being influenced by the Ahmadi missionary Kahili Ahmed Nasir, according to the Encyclopedia of Muslim-American History, and at one time in that period, Blakey led a turbaned, Qur'an-reading jazz band called the 17 Messengers (perhaps all Muslim, reflecting notions of the Prophet's and music's roles as conduits of the divine message).[1] A friend recollects that when "Art took up the religion [...] he did so on his own terms", saying that "Muslim imams would come over to his place, and they would pray and talk, then a few hours later [we] would go [...] to a restaurant [...and] have a drink and order some ribs", and suggests that reasons for the name change included the pragmatic: that "like many other black jazz musicians who adopted Muslim names", musicians did so to allow them to "check into hotels and enter 'white only places' under the assumption they were not African-American".[35]
As John Cohassey reports, Blakey was a "jazz musician who lived most of his life on the road, [and] lived by the rules of the road."[35] This lifestyle resulted in run-ins related to but predating the civil rights era (including a 1939 Fletcher Henderson band episode in Albany, Georgia, where an altercation and Blakey's treatment after arrest led to surgery in which a plate was inserted in his head).[35]
Drummer Keith Hollis, reflecting on Blakey's early life, states that his fellow drummer "wound up doing drugs to cope";[36] like many of the era, Blakey and his bands were known for their drug use (namely heroin) while traveling and performing (with varying accounts of Blakey's influence on others in this regard).[35][39] Other specific recollections have Blakely forswearing serious drink while playing (after being disciplined by drummer Sid Catlett early in his career for drinking while performing), and suggest that the influence of "clean-living cat" Wynton Marsalis led to a period where he was less affected by drugs during performances.[35] Blakey was a heavy smoker; he appears in a cloud of smoke on the Buhaina's Delight (1961) album cover,[40] and in extended footage of a 1973 appearance with Ginger Baker, Blakey begins a long drummers' "duel" with cigarette alight.[41]
Brandi Denison, 2010, "Blakey, Art (Ibn Buhaina Abdullah)", Encyclopedia of Muslim-American History (Edward E. Curtis, ed.), pp. 85f (New York: Infobase Publishing); ISBN 1438130406; available here
Feather, Leonard; Gitler, Ira (1999). The Biographical Encyclopedia of Jazz. Oxford University Press, USA. p. 65. ISBN 9780199729074.
"Downbeat Hall of Fame". downbeat.com. Retrieved September 17, 2014.
"Grammy Hall of Fame". Retrieved September 17, 2014.
"Modern Drummer's Readers Poll Archive, 1979–2014". Modern Drummer. Retrieved 10 August 2015.
Gourse, Leslie (2002). Art Blakey profile. Music Sales Group. ISBN 9780857128379.
"Art Blakey biography". biography.com. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
Goldsher, Alan (2008). Hard bop academy: the sidemen of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers (1st ed.). Milwaukee, WI: Hal Leonard. pp. 2–5. ISBN 9780634037931.
"Art Blakey". National Endowment for the Arts. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
"Art Blakey profile". pbs.org. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
Watrous, Peter (October 17, 1990). "Art Blakey, Jazz Great, Is Dead; A Drummer and Band Leader, 71". The New York Times.
"Blakey, Art; Buhaina, Abdullah Ibn". Library PSU. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
Miller, Yawu (1994). "Art Blakey". In Ramsay, John. Art Blakey's jazz messages. Miami, FL: Manhattan Music Publications. ISBN 0760400091.
Kelsey, Chris. "Art Blakey". allmusic.com. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
"Art Blakey profile". allaboutjazz.com. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
"Blakey, Art". jazz.com. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
Taylor, Arthur. Note and Tones: Musician-to-musician Interviews. Da Capo Press. ISBN 9780786751112.
"Art Blakey profile". britannica.com. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 2nd Edition (2001)
Art Blakey (1957). Ritual:The Jazz Messengers featuring Art Blakey (LP record). Pacific Jazz.
"Art Blakey discography". jazzdisco.org. Retrieved September 17, 2014.
"Monk's Music". Monkzone.com. June 26, 1957. Retrieved 2011-10-06.
Feather, Leonard (1955). At the Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 1 (liner notes). BLP 1508. The Jazz Messengers. Blue Note Records.
Gitler, Ira (1955). Horace Silver and the Jazz Messengers (liner notes). BLP 1518. Horace Silver and the Jazz Messengers. Blue Note Records.
Avakian, George (1956). The Jazz Messengers (liner notes). CL 897. The Jazz Messengers. Columbia Records.
Hentoff, Nat (1958). A Night in Tunisia (liner notes). LAX 1115. Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers. Vik Records.
Feather, Leonard (1958). Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers (liner notes). BLP 4003. Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. Blue Note Records.
"Art Blakey". drummerworld.com. Retrieved September 17, 2014.
Wynn, Ron (1994), Ron Wynn, ed., All Music Guide to Jazz, M. Erlewine, V. Bogdanov, San Francisco, CA: Miller Freeman, p. 90, ISBN 0-87930-308-5
Hard Bop Academy: The Sidemen of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, Alan Goldsher, pp 81
Schwartz, Steve; Fitzgerald, Michael. "Chronology of Art Blakey (and the Jazz Messengers)". jazzdiscography.com. Retrieved September 16, 2014.
See, for instance: "Art Blakey solo", available at YouTube
The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz, PBS.com; accessed April 2, 2015.
"Art Blakey, Jazz Great, Is Dead; A Drummer and Band Leader, 71". New York Times article by Peter Watrous. October 17, 1990. Retrieved April 25, 2010.
John
Cohassey (2014), "My Friend Art Blakey: Recollections of a Jazz Fan
from Detroit, by Jerry "Tiger" Pearson, as told to John Cohassey"
(Supporting material for America's Cultural Rebels: Avant-Garde and Bohemian Artists, Writers and Musicians from the 1850s through the 1960s by Roy Kotynek and John Cohassey (Jefferson, NC:McFarland & Company); ISBN 978-0-7864-3709-2; available here
Regina
Schaffer, 2014, "Art Blakey will be remembered by Keith Hollis band,
Jazz Vespers in Atlantic City Sunday", Atlantic City Insiders, January
14, 2014; available here
Jeff
Schwachter, 2010, "Art Blakey Topic of New Book by Atlantic City
Author", Atlantic City Insiders, November 17, 2010; available here Archived October 16, 2014, at the Wayback Machine.
Jeff
Schwachter, 2005, "Remembering the Messenger: Jazz legend Art Blakey
and his small town Atlantic County digs", Atlantic City Insiders,
October 27, 2005; available here Archived October 21, 2014, at the Wayback Machine.
John
Moultrie, 2013, "Gary Bartz Talks About Drug Use Among Jazz Greats",
2013 Jazz Festival (iRock Jazz Team, irockjazz.com); available here
LondonJazzCollector [Internet], 2011, "Art Blakey "Buhaina's Delight" (1961)"; available here
See "Art Blakey & Ginger Baker Drum Duo" here.
"Art Blakey Awards". Retrieved January 11, 2016.
"Grammy Award Winners 1984". Grammy.com. Retrieved September 17, 2014.
The Perfect Beat
“Afrobeat”, as a term and a musical style, didn’t exist when the Art Blakey Percussion Ensemble recorded Drum Suite in 1957. But the infectious meeting of African, Latin, and Western styles that’s on display here has all the ingredients that Fela Kuti would put together in the following decade. Drum Suite was Blakey’s first full-on percussion experiment, and it’s arguably his best, intertwining ethnic sounds with his traditional hard bop in a way that drum aficionados and jazz purists can thoroughly enjoy. Add some stellar but lesser-known hard bop sessions from Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and you have a definitive, essential Blakey collection.The highlight, of course, is still the three-part Drum Suite. Recorded, remarkably, in one take without overdubs or written arrangements, it’s a thrill from beginning to end. “The Sacrifice” opens with Specs Wright’s thundering tympani and a traditional African chant by the musicians themselves. The African percussion swells and then dies out as the chanting comes back before a descending, bluesy yet tense Ray Bryant piano part kicks in. And, finally, Blakey jumpstarts the track with his big, heavy sound. Bryant’s festive “Cubano Chant” features catchy call-and-response between piano and Spanish-language vocals. Cellist/bassist Oscar Pettiford’s “Oscalypso” closes the suite in grand fashion. With Bryant’s sultry piano, Candido Camero’s funky bass, and Sabu Martinez’ rolling congas as a foundation, Pettiford plays an amazing fingered solo on a cello that’s been fed through a guitar amp and consequently distorted. This, combined with his use of the instrument’s high end, produces a sound like a modern flanged-out bass. Then the carefully-layered percussion solos take over, with Blakey getting in some killer fills of his own while Wright’s tympani holds everything together. Gradually the piano and bass come back, and Pettiford gets off one last cello solo as the track fades into the moonlight.
As with the original issue, Drum Suite is complemented by three 1956 takes from one of the many Jazz Messengers lineups. More traditional hard bop arrangements and soloists feature, but the music is only slightly less thrilling. Each tune is punctuated by Blakey’s machine-gun fills, which propel but never overwhelm the composition. No, that’s not a woodpecker stuck in your speakers; it’s Blakey’s unique, tribal-inspired technique, which often uses series of quick rimshots. Often overlooked trumpet player Bill Hardman and saxophonist Jackie McLean lay down some nice solos, too.
This reissue would be well worth owning if it stopped right there. But Legacy has also included the only headlining cuts ever recorded by yet another Jazz Messengers permutation. Both written by trumpet player Donald Byrd, who would shortly go on to establish himself as a bandleader, “L’il T” and “The New Message” are a little rough (they were never intended for release) but excellent, uptempo hard bop nonetheless. In particular, “The New Message” features some irresistible trumpet sparring between Byrd and Ira Sullivan, who doubles on tenor sax. The real revelation here is bassist Wilbur Ware, who dive-bombs into, out of, and around the beat, doing his own groovy thing in a way that fits with the rest of the composition. These cuts aren’t mere barrel-scraping. They’re a revelation.
Legacy has done Blakey et al proud with first-rate sound and thoughtful packaging including lovingly-rendered liner notes by Blakey protégé Kenny Washington. In the end, jazz is about conjuring up feelings. Drum Suite conjures many of them, and they’re all good.
http://www.jazzdisco.org/art-blakey/discography/
ART BLAKEY DISCOGRAPHY: 1944-1990
1944 (age 25)
Billy Eckstine - Mr. B (Ember (E) FA 2010)
Billy Eckstine - Blowing The Blues Away (Swingtime (E) ST 1015)
Billy Eckstine/Maxine Sullivan - Mr. B (Audio Lab AL 1549)
1945
Billy Eckstine - Together (Spotlite (E) SPJ 100)
Billy Eckstine - Blues For Sale (EmArcy MG 36029)
Billy Eckstine - The Love Songs Of Mr. "B" (EmArcy MG 36030)
V.A. - The Advance Guard Of The '40s (EmArcy MG 36016)
Billy Eckstine - You Call It Madness (Regent MG 6058)
Billy Eckstine - Prisoner Of Love (Regent MG 6052)
1946
Billy Eckstine - Mr. B And The Band (Savoy SJL 2214)
Billy Eckstine Sings (Savoy SJL 1127)
Billy Eckstine - My Deep Blue Dream (Regent MG 6054)
Billy Eckstine - I Surrender, Dear (EmArcy MG 36010)
V.A. - Boning Up The 'Bones (EmArcy MG 36038)
Billy Eckstine - Rhythm In A Riff (Soundtrack) (Harlequin (E) HQ 2068)
Miles Davis - Boppin' The Blues (Black Lion (G) BLCD 760102)
1947
Thelonious Monk - Genius Of Modern Music, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1510)
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Thelonious Monk (Mosaic MR4-101)
Thelonious Monk - Genius Of Modern Music, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1511)
Fats Navarro - Fat Girl (Savoy SJL 2216)
Fats Navarro Memorial, Vol. 2 - Nostalgia (Savoy MG 12133)
Dexter Gordon - Dexter Rides Again (Savoy MG 12130)
Dexter Gordon - Long Tall Dexter (Savoy SJL 2211)
Max Roach/James Moody/Art Blakey - New Sounds (Blue Note CDP 7 84436 2)
Ida James - Try A Little Tenderness / Yesterdays (Manor 1107)
Ida James - You're A Fool If You Don't / Let's Do It (Manor 1121)
1948
The Vibes Are On Art Tatum/Thelonious Monk (Chazzer 2002)
James Moody/George Wallington - The Beginning And End Of Bop (Blue Note B 6503)
V.A. - 25 Years Blue Note: Anniversary Album (Blue Note BLP 1001)
1949 (age 30)
Lucky Millinder - Moanin' The Blues / How Would You Know (RCA Victor 20-3430)
Big John Greer - Drinkin' Wine, Spo-Dee-O-Dee / Long Tall Gal (RCA Victor 22-0023)
Big John Greer - I Found A Dream / If I Told You Once (RCA Victor 22-0045)
V.A. - The Be Bop Boys (Savoy SJL 2225)
Big John Greer - Rockin' With Big John / ??? (RCA Victor 22-0137)
1950
Sonny Stitt - Stitt's Bits (Prestige PRLP 7133)
Sonny Stitt - Kaleidoscope (Prestige PRLP 7077)
Here Are Stan Getz And Miles Davis (Kings Of Jazz (It) KLJ 20013)
Miles Davis - Dick Hyman - Sonny Stitt (Ozone 1)
Gene Ammons - Blues Up And Down, Vol. 1 (Prestige PR 7823)
Charlie Parker - Fats Navarro - Bud Powell (Ozone 4)
Charlie Parker - One Night In Birdland (Columbia JG 34808)
Charlie Parker - Bud Powell - Fats Navarro (Ozone 9)
Miles Davis - The Last Bebop Session (Jazz Music Yesterday (It) JMY ME 6401)
The Persuasively Coherent Miles Davis (Alto AL 701)
Hooray For Miles Davis, Vol. 1 (Session Disc 101)
Miles Davis All Stars And Gil Evans (Beppo (E) BEP 502)
Hooray For Miles Davis, Vol. 2 (Session Disc 102)
Charlie Parker - More Unissued, Vol. 2 (Royal Jazz (D) RJD 506)
1951
Dizzy Gillespie - Trane's First Ride 1951 (Oberon 5100)
Dizzy Gillespie - Birks' Works (Duke (It) D-1019)
Dizzy Gillespie - Trane's First Ride 1951, Vol. 2 (Broadcast Tributes 0009)
Dinah Washington - Queen Of The Juke Box "Live" 1948-1955 (Baldwin Street Music BJH 310)
Sonny Stitt - This Can't Be Love / For The Fat Man (Prestige 831 (alt.))
Gene Ammons All Star Sessions (Prestige PRLP 7050)
Dizzy Gillespie - School Days (Regent MG 6043)
Dizzy Gillespie - The Champ (Savoy MG 12047)
Jazz Moods By Illinois Jacquet (Clef MGC 622)
Illinois Jacquet - Groovin' (Clef MGC 702)
Milt Jackson And The Thelonious Monk Quintet (Blue Note BLP 1509)
Zoot Sims Quartets (Prestige PRLP 7026)
Zoot Sims Quartets (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-242-2)
Miles Davis - Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis - Art Blakey (Ozone 7)
J.J. Johnson/Kai Winding/Bennie Green - Trombone By Three (Prestige PRLP 7023)
J.J. Johnson/Kai Winding/Bennie Green - Trombone By Three (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-091-2)
V.A. - Conception (Prestige PRLP 7013)
Miles Davis - Dig (Prestige PRLP 7012)
Sonny Rollins With The Modern Jazz Quartet, Art Blakey, Kenny Drew (Prestige PRLP 7029)
1952
Buddy DeFranco (MGM E 3396)
Buddy DeFranco Quartet (MGM (E) EP 501)
Stan Getz/Zoot Sims/Al Cohn - The Brothers (Prestige PRLP 7022)
Buddy DeFranco With Strings (MGM E 253)
King Pleasure Sings/Annie Ross Sings (Prestige PRLP 7128)
Horace Silver Trio And Art Blakey-Sabu (Blue Note BLP 1520)
Horace Silver - The Trio Sides (Blue Note BN-LA474-H2)
Thelonious Monk Trio (Prestige PRLP 7027)
Lou Donaldson Quartet/Quintet/Sextet (Blue Note BLP 1537)
1953
Buddy DeFranco Quartet (Norgran MGN 1026)
The Buddy DeFranco Quartet (Norgran EPN 123)
Introducing The Kenny Drew Trio (Blue Note (J) BNJ-71002)
Buddy DeFranco - Jazz Tones (Norgran MGN 1068)
Miles Davis - Complete 2nd Session On Blue Note (Blue Note CDP 7 81502 2)
Miles Davis, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1501)
Miles Davis, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1502)
Oscar Peterson Trio And Buddy DeFranco Quartet 1953 Live (Jazz Band (E) EBCD 2111-2)
Gerry Mulligan With Chet Baker And Buddy DeFranco (Gene Norman Presents GNP 56)
Buddy DeFranco - Takes You To The Stars (Gene Norman Presents Vol. 2)
Clifford Brown - More Memorable Tracks (Blue Note (J) BNJ-61001)
Clifford Brown Memorial Album (Blue Note BLP 1526)
Clifford Brown - Brownie Eyes (Blue Note BN-LA267-G)
Hooray For Milt Jackson - John Lewis - Art Blakey - Kenny Dorham (Session Disc 110)
Kenny Dorham 1953, 1956, 1964 (Royal Jazz (D) RJD 515)
Introducing Paul Bley (Original Jazz Classics OJC-201)
Introducing Paul Bley (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-201-2)
Jazz Workshop - Autobiography In Jazz (Debut DEB 198)
Earl Bud Powell, Vol. 2 - Burning In U.S.A., 53-55 (Mythic Sound MS 6002-1)
1954
Art Blakey - Live Messengers (Blue Note BN-LA473-J2)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1522)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 2 (Blue Note (J) NR-8839)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1521)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 1 (Blue Note (J) NR-8838)
A Night At Birdland With Art Blakey Quintet, Vol. 3 (Blue Note (J) BNJ-61002)
V.A. - Mercury 40th Anniversary V.S.O.P. Album (Mercury (J) 25PJ-58/61)
Miles Davis - Blue Haze (Prestige PRLP 7054)
The Complete Art Blakey On EmArcy (EmArcy (J) 195J-10085)
Elmo Hope Trio/Elmo Hope Quintet (Blue Note (J) K18P-9271)
Elmo Hope Trio And Quintet (Blue Note CDP 7 84438 2)
Thelonious Monk - Monk (Prestige PRLP 7053)
Sonny Rollins - Moving Out (Prestige PRLP 7058)
V.A. - The Other Side Of Blue Note 1500 Series (Blue Note (J) BNJ-61008/10)
Introducing Joe Gordon (EmArcy MG 36025)
V.A. - The Jazz School (Wing MGW 60002)
Thelonious Monk And Sonny Rollins (Prestige PRLP 7075)
Horace Silver And The Jazz Messengers (Blue Note BLP 1518)
1955
Clark Terry (EmArcy MG 36007)
The Complete Bud Powell On Verve (Verve 314 521 669-2)
Bud Powell - Jazz Original (Norgran MGN 1017)
Bud Powell's Moods (Norgran MGN 1064)
The Genius Of Bud Powell, Vol. 2 (Verve VE2 2526)
Randy Weston - Trio And Solo (Riverside RLP 12-227)
Kenny Dorham - Afro-Cuban (Blue Note BLP 1535)
Kenny Dorham - Afro-Cuban (Blue Note CDP 7 46815 2)
Julius Watkins Sextet (Blue Note (J) K18P-9273)
The Complete Blue Note Hank Mobley Fifties Sessions (Mosaic MQ10-181)
George Wallington And His Band/Hank Mobley Quartet (Blue Note (J) K18P-9276)
Herbie Nichols Trio (Blue Note (J) K18P-9272)
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Herbie Nichols (Mosaic MR5-118)
Duke Jordan Trio And Quintet (Signal S 1202)
Gigi Gryce Quartet And Orchestra (Signal S 1201)
The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1508)
The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1507)
The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Vol. 3 (Blue Note (J) DY-5805-01)
Donald Byrd - Byrd's Eye View (Transition TRLP J-4)
V.A. - Jazz In Transition (Transition TRLP 30)
1956
Thelonious Monk - The Unique (Riverside RLP 12-209)
The Jazz Messengers (Columbia CL 897)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Originally (Columbia FC 38036)
The Cool Voice Of Rita Reys With The Jazz Messengers And The Wessel Ilcken Combo (Philips (Du) B 08006 L)
Metronome All-Stars 1956 (Clef MGC 743)
Stan Getz Special, Vol. 1 (Raretone (It) 5010-FC)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers - Sessions, Live (Calliope CAL 3036)
The Jazz Messengers - Hard Bop (Columbia CL 1040)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Drum Suite (Columbia CL 1002)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Drum Suite (Columbia/Legacy CK 93637)
1957
Milt Jackson - Plenty, Plenty Soul (Atlantic LP 1269)
Hank Mobley And His All Stars (Blue Note BLP 1544)
The Jazz Messengers Featuring Art Blakey - Ritual (Pacific Jazz PJM-402)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers/The Elmo Hope Quintet Featuring Harold Land (Pacific Jazz PJ-33)
A Date With Jimmy Smith, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1547)
The Complete February 1957 Jimmy Smith Blue Note Sessions (Mosaic MQ5-154)
The Sounds Of Jimmy Smith (Blue Note BLP 1556)
A Date With Jimmy Smith, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1548)
Jimmy Smith At The Organ, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1552)
Jimmy Smith At The Organ, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1551)
Cliff Jordan/John Gilmore - Blowing In From Chicago (Blue Note BLP 1549)
Cliff Jordan/John Gilmore - Blowing In From Chicago (Blue Note 7243 8 28977 2)
Art Blakey - Orgy In Rhythm, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1554)
Art Blakey - Orgy In Rhythm, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1555)
A Midnight Session With The Jazz Messengers (Elektra EKL 120)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Mirage (Savoy ZDS 4409)
Hank Mobley Quintet (Blue Note BLP 1550)
V.A. - 40 Years Of Jazz: History Of Blue Note, Box 2 (Blue Note (Du) 1A158-83385/8)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Selections From Lerner And Loewe's... (Vik LAK 1103)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers 1957 - Second Edition (RCA Bluebird 07863 66661-2)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Tough! (Cadet LP 4049)
Johnny Griffin, Vol. 2 - A Blowing Session (Blue Note BLP 1559)
Johnny Griffin, Vol. 2 - A Blowing Session (Blue Note 7243 4 99009 2)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - A Night In Tunisia (Vik LAX 1115)
Art Blakey - Theory Of Art (RCA Bluebird 6286-2-RB)
Sonny Rollins, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1558)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers With Sabu And A Bongo - Cu-Bop (Jubilee JLP 1049)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers With Thelonious Monk - Jazz Connection (Atlantic LP 1278)
Thelonious Monk - The Complete Riverside Recordings (Riverside R 022)
Thelonious Monk/John Coltrane - The Complete 1957 Riverside Recordings (Riverside RCD2 30027-2)
V.A. - Blues For Tomorrow (Riverside RLP 12-243)
Thelonious Monk - Monk's Music (Riverside RLP 12-242)
Thelonious Monk With John Coltrane (Jazzland JLP 46)
Count Basie, Joe Williams And Art Blakey - Sessions, Live (Calliope CAL 3008)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Hard Drive (Bethlehem BCP 6023)
John Coltrane - Bethlehem Years (Bethlehem 20-50012)
Art Blakey Big Band (Bethlehem BCP 6027)
1958
Jimmy Smith - Confirmation (Blue Note LT-992)
Jimmy Smith - House Party (Blue Note BLP 4002)
Jimmy Smith - The Sermon! (Blue Note BLP 4011)
Cannonball Adderley - Somethin' Else (Blue Note BLP 1595)
V.A. - Blue Trails: The Rare Tracks (Blue Note (J) TOCJ-1601)
Tina Brooks - Minor Move (Blue Note (J) GXF-3072)
Jimmy Smith - Cool Blues (Blue Note LT-1054)
Gil Evans - New Bottle Old Wine (World Pacific WP-1246)
V.A. - The Sound Of Big Band Jazz In Hi-Fi! (World Pacific WP-1257)
Kenny Burrell - Swingin' (Blue Note (J) GXF-3070)
Kenny Burrell - Blue Lights, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 1596)
Kenny Burrell - Blue Lights, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 1597)
Jimmy Smith - Six Views Of The Blues (Blue Note 7243 5 21435 2)
Jimmy Smith - The Singles (Blue Note (J) K18P-9280)
Cannonball Adderley/Milt Jackson - Things Are Getting Better (Riverside RLP 12-286)
Cannonball Adderley/Milt Jackson - Things Are Getting Better (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-032-2)
Cannonball Adderley - Cannonball And Eight Giants (Milestone M-47001)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Moanin' (Blue Note BLP 4003)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Moanin' (Blue Note CDP 7 46516 2)
Art Blakey - Drums Around The Corner (Blue Note 7243 5 21455 2)
Art Blakey - Holiday For Skins, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 4004)
Art Blakey - Holiday For Skins, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 4005)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Live In The 50's (Jazz Band (E) EBCD 2128-2)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - 1958-Paris Olympia (Fontana (F) 680 202 ML)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Olympia Concert (Mercury (F) 6444700)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Zurich 1958 (SOLAR 4569881)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Des Femmes Disparaissent (Soundtrack) (Fontana (F) 660 224 MR)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz-Messengers Au Club St. Germain, Vol. 1 (RCA (F) 430.043)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz-Messengers Au Club St. Germain, Vol. 2 (RCA (F) 430.044)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz-Messengers Au Club St. Germain, Vol. 3 (RCA (F) 430.045)
1959 (age 40)
Blue Mitchell - Out Of The Blue (Riverside RLP 12-293)
V.A. - New Blue Horns (Riverside RLP 12-294)
Sonny Clark - My Conception (Blue Note (J) GXF-3056)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 4015)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 4016)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers Avec Barney Wilen - Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960 (Soundtrack) (Fontana (F) 680 203 ML)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers Avec Barney Wilen - Les Liaisons Dangereuses 1960 (Soundtrack) (Fontana (J) 28JD-10169)
Kenny Burrell - On View At The Five Spot Cafe (Blue Note BLP 4021)
Benny Golson - Groovin' With Golson (New Jazz NJLP 8220)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Copenhagen 1959 (Royal Jazz (D) RJD 516)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Africaine (Blue Note LT-1088)
Art Blakey Et Les Jazz Messengers Au Theatre Des Champs-Elysees (RCA (F) 430.054)
Art Blakey - Are You Real (Moon (It) MCD 071-2)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Stockholm 1959 (Dragon (Swd) DRCD 182)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Live In Berlin 1959/1962 (Jazz Up (It) JU 321)
Art Blakey/Bud Powell/Barney Wilen/Wayne Shorter/Lee Morgan - Paris Jam Session (Fontana (F) 680 207 TL)
1960
Alternate Takes Of Here's Lee Morgan (Vee-Jay (J) FHCY-1002)
V.A. - Alternate Sessions At The Early '60s (Vee-Jay (J) RJL-2640)
Hank Mobley - Soul Station (Blue Note BLP 4031)
Lee Morgan - Genius (Tradiition 2079)
Lee Morgan (GNP Crescendo GNPS 2-2074)
Here's Lee Morgan (Vee-Jay VJLP 3007)
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Art Blakey's 1960 Jazz Messengers (Mosaic MR10-141)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Big Beat (Blue Note BLP 4029)
Dizzy Reece - Comin' On (Blue Note 7243 5 22019 2)
The Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Drums Ablaze (Alto AL 720)
The Electric Sticks Of Buddy Rich (Alto AL 721)
Art Blakey/Charlie Persip/Elvin Jones/"Philly" Joe Jones - Gretsch Drum Night At Birdland (Roulette R-52049)
Art Blakey/Charlie Persip/Elvin Jones/"Philly" Joe Jones - Gretsch Drum Night At Birdland, Vol. 2 (Roulette R-52067)
Lee Morgan - Lee-Way (Blue Note BLP 4034)
Hooray For Art Blakey, Vol. 1 (Session Disc 116)
Lee Morgan - More Birdland Sessions (Fresh Sound (Sp) FSCD-1029)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Like Someone In Love (Blue Note BLP 4245)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - A Night In Tunisia (Blue Note BLP 4049)
Bobby Timmons - Soul Time (Riverside RLP 334)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Meet You At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 2 (Blue Note BLP 4055)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Meet You At The Jazz Corner Of The World, Vol. 1 (Blue Note BLP 4054)
The Complete Vee Jay Lee Morgan - Wayne Shorter Sessions (Mosaic MD6-202)
Wayne Shorter - Second Genesis (Vee-Jay VJS 3057)
Lee Morgan - Expoobident (Vee-Jay VJLP 3015)
Lee Morgan - Expoobident (Vee-Jay NVJ2-901)
Hank Mobley - Roll Call (Blue Note BLP 4058)
Hank Mobley - Roll Call (Blue Note CDP 7 46823 2)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live In Stockholm 1960 (Dragon (Swd) DRLP 137)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Lausanne 1960, Part 1: Swiss Radio Days Jazz Series, Volume 2 (TCB (Swi) TCB 02022)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Lausanne 1960, Part 2: Swiss Radio Days Jazz Series, Volume 6 (TCB (Swi) TCB 02062)
1961
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - A Day With Art Blakey 1961 (Baybridge (J) 30CP-23/24)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Tokyo 1961 (somethin'else (J) RJ28-5503)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Pisces (Blue Note (J) GXF-3060)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Roots And Herbs (Blue Note BST 84347)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Freedom Rider (Blue Note BLP 4156)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Witch Doctor (Blue Note BST 84258)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Featuring Wayne Shorter En Concert Avec Europe 1 (Trema (F) TR 710373/374)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers (Alamode) (Impulse! A-7)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Mosaic (Blue Note BLP 4090)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buhaina's Delight (Blue Note BLP 4104)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buhaina's Delight (Blue Note CDP 7 84104 2)
1962
The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Grant Green With Sonny Clark (Mosaic MR5-133)
Grant Green - Nigeria (Blue Note LT-1032)
Ike Quebec - Congo Lament (Blue Note LT-1089)
Ike Quebec - Easy Living (Blue Note CDP 7 46846 2)
Art Blakey And The Afro-Drum Ensemble - The African Beat (Blue Note BLP 4097)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - 3 Blind Mice (United Artists UAJ 14002)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - 3 Blind Mice, Vol. 1 (Blue Note CDP 7 84451 2)
Hooray For Art Blakey, Vol. 2 (Session Disc 117)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Caravan (Riverside RLP 438)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Caravan (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-038-2)
Art Blakey/Freddie Hubbard/Horace Silver/Max Roach - Europa Jazz (Europa Jazz (It) EJ 1035)
1963
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers At Birdland - Ugetsu (Riverside RLP 464)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers At Birdland - Ugetsu (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD-090-2)
Art Blakey/Max Roach/Elvin Jones/Philly Joe Jones - The Big Beat (Milestone M-47016)
Art Blakey - A Jazz Message (Impulse! A-45)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Golden Boy (Colpix CP 478)
1964
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Free For All (Blue Note BLP 4170)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Kyoto (Riverside RLP 493)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Indestructible (Blue Note BLP 4193)
Lee Morgan - Tom Cat (Blue Note LT-1058)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - 'S Make It (Limelight LM 82001)
Leonard Feather's Encyclopedia Of Jazz: Jazz Of The '60s, Vol. 2: Blues Bag (Vee-Jay VJLP 2506)
V.A. - I/We Had A Ball (Limelight LM 82002)
1965
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Soulfinger (Limelight LM 82018)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Hold On, I'm Coming (Limelight LM 82038)
Sonny Rollins Quintet In Europe (Unique Jazz UJ 29)
1966
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buttercorn Lady (Limelight LM 82034)
1968
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live! (Trip TLX 5034)
Art Blakey - Moanin' (Laserlight 17127)
1969 (age 50)
Art Blakey Jazz Messengers - Mellow Blues (Moon (It) MCD 032-2)
1970
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Jazz Messengers '70 (Victor (J) SMJX-10086)
1971
Dizzy Gillespie And Thelonious Monk With The Giants Of Jazz - Unissued In Europe 1971 (Gambit (Sp) 69301-2)
Bop Fathers - In Paris (Joker (J) ULS-141/142-KR)
The Giants Of Jazz - Live In Prague 1971 (Impro-Jazz (Eu) IJ512)
The Giants Of Jazz And Dizzy Gillespie Quintet - Live (Jazz Door (G) JD 1277)
Giants Of Jazz - In Berlin '71 (EmArcy (J) 20PJ-10108)
Giants Of Jazz - In Berlin '71 (EmArcy 834 567-2)
Thelonious Monk/Dizzy Gillespie - Giants Of Jazz: Copenhagen 1971 (Standing Oh! Vation (Eu) OH44649)
The Giants Of Jazz (Atlantic SD 2-905)
Thelonious Monk - Something In Blue (Black Lion (E) BLP 30119)
Thelonious Monk - The Man I Love (Black Lion (E) BLP 30141)
Thelonious Monk - The London Collection: Volume Three (Black Lion (G) BLCD 760142)
The Complete Black Lion And Vogue Recordings Of Thelonious Monk (Mosaic MR4-112)
1972
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Child's Dance (Prestige P-10047)
V.A. - Newport In New York '72: The Jam Sessions, Vol. 3&4 (Cobblestone CST 9026-2)
Art Blakey And The Giants Of Jazz - Live At The 1972 Monterey Jazz Festival (Monterey Jazz Festival Records MJF-30882-25)
Giants Of Jazz (EmArcy (J) 20PJ-10090)
Art Blakey And His Jazz Messengers - Art's Break! (Joker (J) UPS-2060-KR)
1973
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Anthenagin (Prestige P-10076)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Buhaina (Prestige P-10067)
1975
Sonny Stitt With Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In Walked Sonny (Sonet (E) SNTF 691)
Sonny Stitt With Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In Walked Sonny (Sonet (E) SNTCD 691)
1976
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Backgammon (Roulette SR-5003)
V.A. - Jazz Na Koncertnom Podiju, Vol. 2 (Jugoton (Yu) LSY 61417)
V.A. - It Happened In Pescara 1969-1989 (Philology (It) W 100/101)
1977
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Gypsy Folk Tales (Roulette SR-5008)
Art Blakey And Jazz Messengers - Heat Wave (Meldac Jazz (J) MECJ-30010)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime, Vol. 1 (Timeless (Du) SJP 114)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime, Vol. 1 (Timeless (US) TI 301)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime, Vol. 2 (Timeless (Du) SJP 118)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In My Prime I (Timeless (Du) CD SJP 319)
1978
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In This Korner (Concord Jazz CJ-68)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - In This Korner (Concord Jazz CCD-4068)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers III - Reflections In Blue (Timeless (Du) SJP 128)
1979 (age 60)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Night In Tunisia: Digital Recording (Philips (Du) 6385 943)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - One By One (Palcoscenico (It) PAL 15005)
1980
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - Jazzbuhne Berlin '80, Vol. 9 (Repertoire (G) RR 4909-WZ)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers Big Band - Live At Montreux And Northsea (Timeless (Du) SJP 150)
Dexter Gordon - Gotham City (Columbia JC 36853)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Featuring Wynton Marsalis '80, Vol. 1 (Break Time (J) BRJ-4039)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Featuring Wynton Marsalis '80, Vol. 2 (Break Time (J) BRJ-4040)
Wynton Marsalis - First Recordings (Kingdom Jazz (E) GATE 7013)
1981
Art Blakey In Sweden (Amigo (Swd) AMPL 839)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers - Album Of The Year (Timeless (Du) SJP 155)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Straight Ahead (Concord Jazz CJ-168)
Aurex Jazz Festival '81 - Allstar Jam Session (Eastworld (J) EWJ-80208)
Aurex Jazz Festival '81 - Live Special (Eastworld (J) EWJ-80254)
George Kawaguchi/Art Blakey - Killer Joe (Union Jazz (J) 30CH-39)
1982
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Keystone 3 (Concord Jazz CJ-196)
Art Blakey And The All Star Jazz Messengers (RCA (F) PL 45365)
Art Blakey And The Jazzmessengers - Oh-By The Way (Timeless (Du) SJP 165)
1983
Art Blakey And The All Star Jazz Messengers - Caravan (Baystate (J) RJL-8071)
Aurex Jazz Festival '83 - Art Blakey And All Star Jazz Messengers (Eastworld (J) EWJ-80270)
1984
Art Blakey And The All Star Jazz Messengers - A Groovy Night With The Magnificent Six (Baystate (J) R32J-1053)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - New York Scene (Concord Jazz CJ-256)
1985
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Live At Ronnie Scott's - BBC Legends (BBC Legends (E) BBCJ 7003-2)
V.A. - One Night With Blue Note, Vol. 3 (Blue Note BT 85115)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers Live At Ronnie Scott's (DRG 91444)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Blue Night (Timeless (Du) SJP 217)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Blue Night (Timeless (Du) CD SJP 217)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Farewell (Paddle Wheel (J) KICJ-41/42)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live At Sweet Basil (Paddle Wheel (J) K28P-6357)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Hard Champion (Paddle Wheel (J) K32Y-6209)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Live At Kimball's (Concord Jazz CJ-307)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - New Year's Eve At Sweet Basil (Paddle Wheel (J) 240E-6831)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Dr. Jeckyle (Paddle Wheel (J) K32Y-6183)
1986
Art Blakey And Jazz Messengers (Arco 3 ARC 107/IMS 3 ARC 107)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Feeling Good (Delos D/CD 4007)
1987
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Blue Moon (Zounds CD 2720010)
1988
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Not Yet (Soul Note (It) SN 1105)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - Standards (Paddle Wheel (J) 292E-6026)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - 70 Years Anniversary: Special Edition, Vol. 1 (Alfa Jazz (J) 32R2-26)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - I Get A Kick Out Of Bu (Soul Note (It) SN 1155)
1989 (age 70)
Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers - The Art Of Jazz (IN+OUT Records (G) IOR CD 77028-2)
1990 (aged 71)
Art Blakey And The New Jazzmessengers 90 - Chippin' In: The Birth Of New Funky (Alfa Jazz (J) ALCR-36)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - The Last Drum Solo (Alfa Jazz (J) ALCR-76)
Art Blakey/Dr. John/David Newman - Bluesiana Triangle (Windham Hill Jazz WD 0125)
Art Blakey And The Jazz Messengers - One For All (A&M 75021 5329-2)
THE MUSIC OF ART BLAKEY: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH MR. BLAKEY:
Live in concert in 1959:
Art Blakey – drums
Lee Morgan – trumpet
Benny Golson – tenor saxophone
Bobby Timmons – piano
Jymie Merritt – bass
Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - “Night in Tunisia"
Live in concert in 1958:
BELGIUM - 1958
Drums: Art Blakey
Trumpet: Lee Morgan
Sax: Benny Golson
Piano: Bobby Timmons
Bass: Jymie Merritt
Art Blakey - "The Egyptian"
Jazz 625 - Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers (1965):
1:21 On The Ginza 7:34 Lament for Stacey 12:18 The Egyptian 23:15 I Can't Get Started 28:17 Buhaina's Delight
Lee Morgan - trumpet John Gilmore - tenor sax John Hicks - piano Victor Sproles - bass Art Blakey - drums
Art Blakey and his Jazz Messengers - "Caravan" -
(Live video 1963):
Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - 'Moanin' (Complete Album):
Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - 23 - 03 - 1963 - San Remo - Italy
Drums: Art Blakey
Trumpet: Freddie Hubbard
Tenor Sax: Wayne Shorter
Trombone: Curtis Fuller
Piano: Cedar Walton
Contrabass: Reggie Workman
Recorded Live in San Remo Italy - March 23, 1963
Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - "A Night In Tunisia" - 1958; Live performance in Belgium
Drums: Art Blakey
Trumpet: Lee Morgan
Sax: Benny Golson
Piano: Bobby Timmons
Bass: Jymie Merritt
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Art_Blakey
Art Blakey
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
| Art Blakey | |
|---|---|
 |
|
| Background information | |
| Birth name | Arthur Blakey |
| Also known as | Abdullah Ibn Buhaina |
| Born | October 11, 1919 Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S. |
| Died | October 16, 1990 (aged 71) New York City, New York, U.S. |
| Genres | Jazz, hard bop, bebop |
| Occupation(s) | Musician, bandleader |
| Instruments | Drums, percussion |
| Years active | 1942–1990 |
| Labels | Blue Note |
| Website | www |
Arthur "Art" Blakey (October 11, 1919 – October 16, 1990) was an American jazz drummer and bandleader. He was known as Abdullah Ibn Buhaina after he became a Muslim.[1]
Blakey made a name for himself in the 1940s in the big bands of Fletcher Henderson and Billy Eckstine. He worked with bebop musicians Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. In the mid-1950s Horace Silver and Blakey formed the Jazz Messengers, a group that the drummer was associated with for the next 35 years. The Jazz Messengers were formed as a collective of contemporaries, but over the years the band became known as an incubator for young talent, including Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Lee Morgan, Benny Golson, and Wynton Marsalis. The Biographical Encyclopedia of Jazz calls the Jazz Messengers "the archetypal hard bop group of the late 50s".[2]
He was inducted into the Down Beat Jazz Hall of Fame (in 1981),[3] the Grammy Hall of Fame (in 1998 and 2001), and was awarded the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2005.[4] He was inducted into the Modern Drummer Hall of Fame in 1991.[5]
Contents
Childhood and early career
Blakey was born on October 11, 1919 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to a single mother, who died shortly after his birth.[6]:1[7] He is described as having been "raised with his siblings by a family friend who became a surrogate mother"; he "received some piano lessons at school", and was able to spend some further time teaching himself.[7] According to Leslie Gourse's biography, the surrogate mother figure was Annie Peron. The stories related by family and friends, and by Blakey himself, are contradictory as to how long he spent with the Peron family, but it is clear he spent some time with them growing up.[6]:2–3Equally clouded by contradiction are stories of Blakey's early music career. It is agreed by several sources that by the time he was in seventh grade, Blakey was playing music full-time and had begun to take on adult responsibilities, playing the piano to earn money and learning to be a band leader.[8][9][10][11] He switched from piano to drums at an uncertain date in the early 1930s. An oft-quoted account of the event states that Blakey was forced at gunpoint to move from piano to drums by a club owner, to allow Erroll Garner to take over on piano.[6]:6–8[8]:1[12][13] The veracity of this story is called into question in the Gourse biography, as Blakey himself gives other accounts in addition to this one.[6]:6–8 The style Blakey assumed was "the aggressive swing style of Chick Webb, Sid Catlett and Ray Bauduc".[6]:8–10[10]
From 1939-44, Blakey played with fellow Pittsburgh native Mary Lou Williams and toured with the Fletcher Henderson Orchestra. While sources differ on the timing, most agree that he traveled to New York with Williams in 1942 before joining Henderson a year later.[2][6]:10[9][14] (Some accounts have him joining Henderson as early as 1939.[13][15][16]) While playing in Henderson's band, Blakey got into a scuffle with Georgia police[17] and suffered injures that got him declared unfit for service in WWII.[6]:11 He then led his own band at the Tic Toc Club in Boston for a short time.[2][6]:11–12[13]
From 1944-47, Blakey worked with Billy Eckstine's big band.[2] Through this band, Blakey became associated with the bebop movement, along with his fellow band members Miles Davis, Dexter Gordon, Fats Navarro, Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker and Sarah Vaughan among others.[8][18][19]
After the Eckstine band broke up, Blakey states that he traveled to Africa for a time: "In 1947, after the Eckstine band broke up, we -- took a trip to Africa. I was supposed to stay there three months and I stayed two years because I wanted to live among the people and find out just how they lived and -- about the drums especially."[20] Blakey is known to have recorded in 1947, 1948 and 1949.[21] He studied and converted to Islam during this period, taking the name Abdullah Ibn Buhaina, although he stopped being a practicing Muslim in the 1950s[1] and continued to perform under the name "Art Blakey" throughout his career.[9]
As the 1950s began, Blakey was backing musicians such as Davis, Parker, Gillespie, Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk;[21] he is often considered to have been Monk's most empathetic drummer,[22] and he played on both Monk's first recording session as a leader (for Blue Note Records in 1947) and his final one (in London in 1971), as well as many in between.[21] Blakey toured with Buddy DeFranco from 1951 to 1953[2] in a band that also included Kenny Drew.[6]:25
The Jazz Messengers
Main article: The Jazz Messengers
Blakey on a tour billed as part of the "Giants of Jazz" in Hamburg, Germany, in 1973
On December 17, 1947, Blakey led a group known as "Art Blakey's Messengers" in his first recording session as a leader, for Blue Note Records. The records were released as 78 rpm records at the time, and two of the songs were released on the "New Sounds" 10" LP compilation (BLP 5010). The octet included Kenny Dorham, Sahib Shihab, Musa Kaleem, and Walter Bishop, Jr.[21]
Around the same time (1947),[2][10] or 1949[6]:20[8] he led a big band called Seventeen Messengers. The band proved to be financially unstable and broke up soon after.[6]:20 The use of the Messengers tag finally stuck with the group co-led at first by both Blakey and pianist Horace Silver, though the name was not used on the earliest of their recordings.[23]
The "Jazz Messengers" name was first used for this group on a 1954 recording nominally led by Silver, with Blakey, Mobley, Dorham and Doug Watkins[24] – the same quintet recorded The Jazz Messengers at the Cafe Bohemia the following year, still functioning as a collective.[23] Donald Byrd replaced Dorham, and the group recorded an album called simply The Jazz Messengers for Columbia Records in 1956.[25] Blakey took over the group name when Silver left after the band's first year (taking Mobley and Watkins with him to form a new quintet), and the band name evolved to include Blakey's name, eventually settling upon "Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers". Blakey led the group for the rest of his life.[14]
It was the archetypal hard bop group of the 1950s, playing a driving, aggressive extension of bop with pronounced blues roots.[2] Towards the end of the 1950s, the saxophonists Johnny Griffin and Benny Golson were in turn briefly members of the group.[26][27] Golson, as music director, wrote several jazz standards which began as part of the band book, such as "I Remember Clifford", and "Blues March", and were frequently revived by later editions of the group. "Along Came Betty" and "Are You Real" were other Golson compositions for Blakey.[8]
Performing at the Umeå jazz festival, Sweden. 1979
From 1959-61, the group featured Wayne Shorter on tenor saxophone, Lee Morgan on trumpet, pianist Bobby Timmons and Jymie Merritt on bass.[14] From 1961-64, the band was a sextet that added trombonist Curtis Fuller and replaced Morgan and Timmons with Freddie Hubbard and Cedar Walton, respectively.[14] The group evolved into a proving ground for young jazz talent. While veterans occasionally reappeared in the group, by and large, each iteration of the Messengers included a lineup of new young players. Having the Messengers on one's resume was a rite of passage in the jazz world, and conveyed immediate bona fides.[7][10][14][28]
Many Messenger alumni went on to become jazz stars in their own right, such as: Lee Morgan, Benny Golson, Wayne Shorter, Freddie Hubbard, Bobby Timmons, Curtis Fuller, Chuck Mangione, Keith Jarrett, Joanne Brackeen, Woody Shaw, Wynton Marsalis, Branford Marsalis, Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison and Mulgrew Miller.[7][9][14] For a complete list of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messenger alumni, some of whom did not actually record with the band, see The Jazz Messengers.
Later career
At radio interview, KJAZ, Alameda, California, October 11, 1982
Blakey went on to record dozens of albums with a constantly changing group of Jazz Messengers. He had a policy of encouraging young musicians: as he remarked on-mic during the live session which resulted in the A Night at Birdland albums in 1954: "I'm gonna stay with the youngsters. When these get too old I'll get some younger ones. Keeps the mind active."[14] After weathering the fusion era in the 1970s with some difficulty (recordings from this period are less plentiful and include attempts to incorporate instruments like electric piano),[citation needed] Blakey's band was revitalized in the early 1980s with the advent of neotraditionalist jazz. Wynton Marsalis was for a time the band's trumpeter and musical director,[citation needed] and even after Marsalis' departure Blakey's band continued as a proving ground for Johnny O'Neal, Philip Harper, Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison and Kenny Garrett, among others. He continued performing and touring with the group through the end of the 1980s. Ron Wynn notes that Blakey had "played with such force and fury that he eventually lost much of his hearing, and at the end of his life, often played strictly by instinct."[29] He stubbornly refused to wear a hearing aid, arguing that it threw his timing off, so most of the time he played by sensing vibrations. Javon Jackson, who played in Blakey's final lineup, claimed that he exaggerated the extent of his hearing loss. "In my opinion, his deafness was a little exaggerated, and it was exaggerated by him. He didn't hear well out of one ear, but he could hear just fine out the other one. He could hear you just fine when you played something badly and he was quick to say 'Hey, you missed that there.' But anything like 'I don't think I'll be available for the next gig.', he'd say 'Huh? I can't hear you.'" Another bandmate, Geoffrey Keezer, claimed that 'He was selectively deaf. He'd go deaf when you asked him about money, but if it was real quiet and you talked to him one-on-one, then he could hear you just fine.'"[30]
Blakey's final performances were in July 1990.[8][31] He died on October 16 of lung cancer.[2][7][12]
Drumming style
Blakey assumed an aggressive swing style of contemporaries Chick Webb, Sid Catlett and Ray Bauduc early in his career,[10] and is known, alongside Kenny Clarke and Max Roach as one of the inventors of the modern bebop style of drumming. Max Roach described him thus:"Art was an original… He's the only drummer whose time I recognize immediately. And his signature style was amazing; we used to call him 'Thunder.' When I first met him on 52d Street in 1944, he already had the polyrhythmic thing down. Art was the perhaps the best at maintaining independence with all four limbs. He was doing it before anybody was."[11]His drumming form made continuing use of the traditional grip, though in later appearances he is also seen using a matched grip.[32] As the supporting materials for Ken Burns's series Jazz notes, "Blakey is a major figure in modern jazz and an important stylist in drums. From his earliest recording sessions with Eckstine, and particularly in his historic sessions with Monk in 1947, he exudes power and originality, creating a dark cymbal sound punctuated by frequent loud snare and bass drum accents in triplets or cross-rhythms." This source continues:
"Although Blakey discourages comparison of his own music with African drumming, he adopted several African devices after his visit in 1948-9, including rapping on the side of the drum and using his elbow on the tom-tom to alter the pitch. Later he organized recording sessions with multiple drummers, including some African musicians and pieces. His much-imitated trademark, the forceful closing of the hi-hat on every second and fourth beat, has been part of his style since 1950–51. … A loud and domineering drummer, Blakey also listens and responds to his soloists."[19][33]
Legacy
The legacy of Blakey and his bands is not only the music they produced, but also the opportunities they provided for several generations of jazz musicians.[34] The Jazz Messengers nurtured and influenced many of the key figures of the hard bop movement of the late 1950s to early 1960s, and of the Neotraditionalist movement of the 1980s and 1990s, both of which had the Jazz Messengers in a stylistically seminal role. In the words of drummer Cindy Blackman shortly after Blakey's death, "When jazz was in danger of dying out [during the 1970s], there was still a scene. Art kept it going."[34] Blakey was inducted into the Jazz Hall of Fame (in 1982), the Grammy Hall of Fame (in 2001), and was awarded the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2005.[1]Personal life
In addition to his musical interests, Blakey was described by Jerry "Tiger" Pearson as a storyteller, as having a "big appetite for music [...] women [and] food", and an interest in boxing.[35]Blakey married four times, and had long-lasting and other relationships throughout his life.[1] He married his first wife, Clarice Stewart, while yet a teen, then Diana Bates (1956), Atsuko Nakamura (1968), and Anne Arnold (1983[35]).[1] He had 10 children from these relationships — daughters Gwendolyn, Evelyn, Jackie, Kadijah, and Sakeena, and sons Art Jr., Takashi, Akira, Kenji and Gamal.[1] Sandy Warren, another longtime companion of Blakey, published a book of reminiscences and favorite food recipes from the period of the late 1970s to early 1980s when Blakey lived in Northfield, New Jersey with Warren and son Takashi.[36][37][38]
Blakey traveled for a year in West Africa (1948) to explore the culture and religion of Islam he would adopt alongside changing his name (see above); Art's conversion to "Bu" took place in the late 1940s at a time when other African-Americans were being influenced by the Ahmadi missionary Kahili Ahmed Nasir, according to the Encyclopedia of Muslim-American History, and at one time in that period, Blakey led a turbaned, Qur'an-reading jazz band called the 17 Messengers (perhaps all Muslim, reflecting notions of the Prophet's and music's roles as conduits of the divine message).[1] A friend recollects that when "Art took up the religion [...] he did so on his own terms", saying that "Muslim imams would come over to his place, and they would pray and talk, then a few hours later [we] would go [...] to a restaurant [...and] have a drink and order some ribs", and suggests that reasons for the name change included the pragmatic: that "like many other black jazz musicians who adopted Muslim names", musicians did so to allow them to "check into hotels and enter 'white only places' under the assumption they were not African-American".[35]
As John Cohassey reports, Blakey was a "jazz musician who lived most of his life on the road, [and] lived by the rules of the road."[35] This lifestyle resulted in run-ins related to but predating the civil rights era (including a 1939 Fletcher Henderson band episode in Albany, Georgia, where an altercation and Blakey's treatment after arrest led to surgery in which a plate was inserted in his head).[35]
Drummer Keith Hollis, reflecting on Blakey's early life, states that his fellow drummer "wound up doing drugs to cope";[36] like many of the era, Blakey and his bands were known for their drug use (namely heroin) while traveling and performing (with varying accounts of Blakey's influence on others in this regard).[35][39] Other specific recollections have Blakely forswearing serious drink while playing (after being disciplined by drummer Sid Catlett early in his career for drinking while performing), and suggest that the influence of "clean-living cat" Wynton Marsalis led to a period where he was less affected by drugs during performances.[35] Blakey was a heavy smoker; he appears in a cloud of smoke on the Buhaina's Delight (1961) album cover,[40] and in extended footage of a 1973 appearance with Ginger Baker, Blakey begins a long drummers' "duel" with cigarette alight.[41]
Death
Blakey had been living in Manhattan when he died of lung cancer, aged 71, at St. Vincent's Hospital and Medical Center. His New York Times obituary notes that he was survived by four daughters (Gwendolyn, Evelyn, Jackie, and Sakeena), and by four sons (Takashi, Kenji, Gamal, and Akira).[11]Awards
- Jazz Mobile Development and Preservation of Jazz (1970)
- Newport Jazz Festival Hall of Fame (1976)
- Down Beat Jazz Hall of Fame Reader's Choice Award (1981)[3]
- Smithsonian Performing Arts Certificate of Appreciation (1982)
- Lee Morgan Memorial Award (1982)
- Jazz Hall of Fame Induction (1982)[42]
- Grammy Award Best Jazz Instrumental Performance, Group, for the album New York Scene (1984)[43]
- Jazznote Award (1986)
- Doctorate of Music (1987; Berklee College of Music)
- Martin Luther King Humanitarian Award (1991)
- Grammy Hall of Fame Induction for the single "Moanin'" (1998)[4]
- Grammy Hall of Fame Induction for the album Moanin' (2001)[4]
- Pittsburgh Jazz Festival Award
- Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award (2005; awarded posthumously)[44]
Discography
Main article: Art Blakey discography
References
- "Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award". Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award. Retrieved September 17, 2014.
