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I'm your host Kofi Natambu. This online magazine features the very best in contemporary creative music in this creative timezone NOW (the one we're living in) as well as that of the historical past. The purpose is to openly explore, examine, investigate, reflect on, studiously critique, and take opulent pleasure in the sonic and aural dimensions of human experience known and identified to us as MUSIC. I'm also interested in critically examining the wide range of ideas and opinions that govern our commodified notions of the production, consumption, marketing, and commercial exchange of organized sound(s) which largely define and thereby (over)determine our present relationships to music in the general political economy and culture.

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Saturday, December 21, 2019

Jimmy Lyons (1933-1986): Legendary, iconic, and innovative musician, composer, arranger, ensemble leader, producer, and teacher

SOUND PROJECTIONS



AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE



EDITOR:  KOFI NATAMBU



WINTER, 2019



VOLUME EIGHT   NUMBER ONE

 
HERBIE HANCOCK

Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:

MELBA LISTON
(November 30-December 6)


KENNY CLARKE
(December 7-13)


LEONTYNE PRICE
(December 14-20)


JIMMY LYONS
(December 21-27)


PATRICE RUSHEN
(December 28-January 3)


ELVIN JONES
(January 4-10)


GARY BARTZ
(January 11-17)


HALE SMITH
(January 18-24)


BENNY CARTER
(January 25-31)


BENNY GOLSON
(February 1-7)


BENNY BAILEY
(February 8-14)


SKIP JAMES
(February 15-21)


 

https://www.allmusic.com/artist/jimmy-lyons-mn0000766028/biography 

 

 

 

Jimmy Lyons 

(1933-1986)

Artist Biography by Chris Kelsey

 

 

 

Imagine what Sonny Stitt might have sounded like had he embraced free jazz after mastering bebop, and one can probably conjure a pretty good mental impression of Jimmy Lyons. Like Stitt, Lyons was enamoured of Charlie Parker's style, particularly in terms of phrasing. Lyons' slippery, bop-derived rhythms and melodic contours lent his improvisations a Charlie "Bird" Parker-like cast, even as his performance contexts were more harmonically free. Lyons made his reputation playing with pianist Cecil Taylor, with whom he became inextricably linked. He was a near-constant presence in Taylor's bands from 1960 until the saxophonist's death in 1986. Lyons always lent an explicitly swinging element to the pianist's music, helping remind the listener most emphatically that -- regardless of how much Taylor may have been influenced by European art music -- this was unquestionably jazz.
Live at the Café Montmartre
A teenaged Lyons was given an alto sax by the clarinetist Buster Bailey, an important member of Fletcher Henderson's band in the '20s and '30s. Lyons studied with veteran big band saxophonist Rudy Rutherford, and at a young age made friends with such jazz luminaries as Elmo Hope, Bud Powell, and Thelonious Monk. Lyons came into his own as a professional upon his association with Taylor in 1960. With Taylor, Lyons recorded a number of landmark albums, including Cecil Taylor Live at Café Montmartre (1962), in a trio with drummer Sunny Murray; and Unit Structures (1966), in a larger band who included, significantly, drummer Andrew Cyrille. Lyons took his own bands into the studio infrequently. In 1969, he led his first session, an album entitled Other Afternoons, which was issued on the now-defunct BYG label. Beginning in 1978, he began leading record dates more often. In the years to come he would release several albums on the Hat Hut and Black Saint labels. Like many jazz musicians, Lyons was compelled by circumstance to augment his performance income by teaching. In 1970-1971 he taught music at Narcotic Addiction Control, a drug treatment center in New York City. From 1971-1973 he served -- with Taylor and Cyrille -- as the artist in residence at Antioch College, and in 1975 he directed the Black Music Ensemble at Bennington College. Perhaps Lyons' stature as a musician is best illustrated by the fact that Taylor essentially found him irreplaceable. After Lyons, Taylor never established a similar long-standing relationship with another musician. Jimmy Lyons' premature death at the age of 52 robbed Taylor -- and avant-garde jazz in general -- of a vital, swinging, eminently creative voice. 

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/the-emergence-of-jimmy-lyons-jimmy-lyons-by-robert-levin.php?page=1

The Emergence of Jimmy Lyons


by

[Editor's Note: From Jazz & Pop Magazine, 1970]

Since 1960, when he began working with Cecil Taylor, alto saxophonist Jimmy Lyons has been developing from a somewhat diffident musician into one of the more potent voices in the New Music. In recent recordings and appearances with Taylor, Jimmy has been playing with a glowing assertiveness and an often stunning beauty.
This past spring, Jimmy's first record under his leadership, Other Afternoons on the French BYG label, was released and it should make anyone who can get hold of it take serious notice—not only of his increasing mastery of the alto saxophone, but also of his newly revealed and exceptional talent as a composer. The album is highly charged and demonstrates Jimmy's capacity to play and write with a startling rhythmic energy, a strong sense of melody, and a near-to-excruciating lyricism. He's accompanied on the record by three first-rate musicians, trumpeter Lester Bowie, who makes fierce and electrifying music and two colleagues from Taylor's unit, Alan Silva, a fine bassist and brilliant cellist, and Andrew Cyrille, who I think sometimes might be the best drummer on the planet.
Born in Jersey City, December 1, 1933, Jimmy began playing alto when he was in high school. "At the time, and mostly from records, I was into Ernie Henry. I'd heard Bird first, but when I heard Ernie Henry I dug him more. Afterwards I heard Bird again and could see how he offered more. Then I started listening to people like Dexter Gordon, Wardell Gray, James Moody.... What really got me to start was a chick who lived next door. She had a baby grand and used to have people coming over and jamming all the time—Elmo Hope, Bud Powell, Thelonious Monk, and a lot of local players. I'd been playing for about six months then, mostly by myself, tunes like 'Indiana'—I had no teacher, but I had a very good ear—and she heard me and one day she said, 'Hey, you're sounding good, why don't you come over?' I did, and Monk was there. We played for about a half hour. He told me he wanted me to play a certain figure—sevenths—so I thought, sevenths? I didn't know what he was talking about. I could hear it, but I'd never studied or learned. Monk said I was talented, but that I had to get down and take care of business; had to learn about music and do a lot of wood-shedding. It was actually a beautiful experience. Later I played with Elmo Hope. We had a piano too at that time, and he used to practice on it afternoons when my mother was out working. We used to play and put things together, but I still hadn't had any formal training.

"In 1959 I met a cat named Rudy Rutherford. He wasn't as modern as some of the cats I was playing with, but he said, 'C'mon, I'll teach you how to play the saxophone.' I needed to learn and he showed me a few things. He was very helpful.

"A year later I met Cecil. I was playing with a bassist at a club called Raphael's on Bleecker Street. Cecil worked opposite us on weekends. He had Archie Shepp and Denis Charles with him, and the whole thing really knocked me out. Up until then I was playing mostly as a hobby, working at the Post Office, with just occasional gigs here and there. But hearing Cecil made me want to get into music full-time. Later a mutual friend said Cecil was looking for another horn, so I went down—he was living on Dey Street then—and we started rehearsing."

With Cecil, Jimmy was obliged to take a leap into a whole new methodology. "I had to reorganize my whole approach to music and break a lot of habits. That's not very easy to do. I'd spent about a year trying to get myself together scale-wise and key-wise and tune-wise. Then, all of a sudden, this other thing came up. It took me a little while to get myself together in Cecil's music, to stop thinking chord-wise and to think about linking idea to idea. Like on the [Gil Evans Orchestra] Into the Hot album (Impulse, 1961), I didn't feel I was playing as well as I should be."

If Jimmy's work on Into the Hot was uncertain and tentative (and still more imitative of Charlie Parker than an extension of the Parker tradition into the New Music), it gradually, as I've said, assumed authority and individuation. Witness the progression of his playing on Taylor's four succeeding albums: Live at the Cafe Montmartre (Fantasy, 1964), Nefertiti, the Beautiful One Has Come (Fontana, 1962), Unit Structures (Blue Note, 1966) and Conquistador (Blue Note, 1966).
In my conversation with Jimmy I posed a number of questions at random. His comments on various aspects of his approach and aesthetic, as well as the New Music and the current scene in general, follow.
His influences: "Well, of course there was Bird and there is Cecil. Also, I really dug Sonny Rollins a lot—and Jackie McLean. The man who wrote the liner notes for the BYG album said I'd been influenced by Ornette, but I haven't really. I like Ornette, and I must say it's always good to hear him. But if Ornette and I sound alike in any way it's because of the mutual influence we share of Bird. As for Bird, I think he was what every musician should be. He's an inspiration for every musician to do his own thing instead of being imitative. That's the realization I came to. I mean the major thing to learn from Bird was not to play like him, but to play yourself."

His procedure: "Music has come to me to be an abstract thing. I don't try to imitate sounds like birds, or give a direct symbol of the sky or anything like that. I try to just let the music come out of myself without giving any special meaning in front. I might think about what it might symbolize after I play it, but not before. It's more innate with me than deliberate."

The New Music and bebop: "Bebop was very romantic in a sense. It talked about heroic actions—things to do politically as well as musically, rather than doing it now. Of course Bird got to some things, and a lot of the cats who are playing today aren't as modern as he was. When I say 'modern,' I mean using techniques that are indigenous to the modern school, like wide skips or things of that nature. But basically bebop was about the idea of doing what had to be done, rather than actually doing it. Now we're doing it."
The meaning of freedom: "When we talk about 'free jazz' it doesn't mean that you play whatever pops into your head. It just means greater freedom of choice, and not being tied to some previous cat or things like chord structures."

The jazz continuum: "To move to the next step you have to have a knowledge of tradition—of the tradition of the black aesthetic—to have heard all of the things of the past and to truly have been moved by them. I don't mean just checking them out, but having been really moved by them."
Rock: "Rock is dealing with a lot of electricity. You hear a full orchestra playing, then a rock group with four pieces comes along and blows them all away because of all that electricity. But I spent a year in North Carolina and heard a lot of those blues singers and players, and my father was a good dancer who had a good collection of blues records. I feel I've absorbed what most of rock is about, and the point now is to go on. I really want to push forward rather than dwell on what's gone before."

"Classical" electronic music: "Much of it strikes me as bland. Of course, some of it would take a whole lot of fantastic blowing to get. But for me it lacks the human quality. When you hear a John Coltrane record, for example, you not only hear it, you visualize it too. I think the music of the black avant-garde is at least on the level of Stockhausen. But the black avant-garde doesn't have the kind of scene and patronage that he has. Those cats are able to work and write at their leisure."
Finding a place to play: "It's obvious that clubs are not the right atmosphere. Guys go to a club to hit on some chick and the music comes along and pulls the whole thing apart. I prefer to play in schools or concert halls because I think the intensity of the music demands the full attention."

Finding an audience: "An audience will have to come through education. Black avant-garde music has to be inculcated into the ghetto, and schooling may accomplish that. I mean if you go to a white slum neighborhood where people live in utter poverty and you play them a record by Chopin, they'll say, wow, that's really something. They may not really like it, they may be being hypocritical, but they'll have a certain respect for it because they've been educated that way. This isn't true of black slum neighborhoods. There's no real respect for jazz. They haven't been taught in the schools that they should respect it. If it's taught in the schools they may not like it at first, but they will respect it and support it, and eventually they'll get to it."

I asked Jimmy about his plans for the future. "Of all the groups out there playing, I think I'm most satisfied playing with Cecil. Of course I'd also like to have my own context, to set up certain things and build up my own milieu. Like Coltrane. He's working out of his own thing, and he built it and built it and built it until it was overwhelming. In the last year and a half I've been doing a lot of composing—writing things down and putting them aside and developing them when I have the time. Often ideas pop up while I'm playing and I write them down later. I'm also learning things from composing that are changing my playing. Writing and composing can be two very different things, of course. I've met a lot of cats who compose some out-of-sight shit, but they can't play it at all. I want to be able to do both well. What I'd really like would be, say, to write for three months, then woodshed on it for six months, then play it in public for the next three months. Then I'd want to start fresh all over again with new material and ideas. Economics won't permit that, of course. But I want as best I can to keep moving from one area and context to another, to really get into one thing, get out of it, then get into another thing.

"I want to always be moving. Moving forward." 

Jazz: Jimmy Lyons Leads a Quartet







STUDIO RIVBEA at 24 Bond Street is presenting its Early Spring Festival this month. While the Ladies's Fort down the block presents a different jazz group every night in April and covers a wide variety of styles, from free‐form to mainstream, Studio Rivbea is giving a small, select group of musicians a showcase. Most of the players have been a part of Studio Rivbea festivals in the past, on Friday and Saturday nights.

Jimmy Lyons, who has been playing the alto saxophone with Cecil Taylor's groups since the early 60's led a quartet at Rivbea on Saturday night. For some time now, Mr. Lyons has been forging ahead along his own musical path when not working with Mr. Taylor, and while he has used different rhythm sections, hts group has always included Karen Borca, a remarkable jazz bassoonist. On Saturday night the quartet was rounded out by Bernard Fennell on cell and Roger Blank on drums, and the music was original and fascinating.

Compositionally and as an improviser, Mr. Lyons owes allegiance to no school. His written lines sometimes recall the clambering, asymmetrical phrases and whiplash antiphony of Cecil Taylor's compositions, with some evident influence from Ornette Coleman—a kind of pan‐tonal bluesiness and a way of swinging that exprapolates on Charlie Parker as well.
But Mr. Lyons has been playing the new jazz. for almost 20 years now, and there is nothing derivative‐sounding about his work. The kind of ensemble interplay he goes after and gets is more reserved and deliberate than the inter- play in most of Mr. Taylor's groups, and the music's interactive and rhythmic flows are more radically conceived than in Mr. Coleman's more open and jauntier style. Mr. Lyons gets a distinctively warm, dry sound from his alto, and he is a constructive, exceptionally musical improviser whether he is working with leaping, arpeggiated phra,4es or overblown shrieks.

Bernard Fennell accompanied and soloed brilliantly on cello, pouring forth streams of controlled, high-velocity bowing and plucking. Miss Borca added a delightfully different color to the group sound and her solos were agile and interesting; she seems to be a real jazz bassoonist, not a classical maverick. Mr. Bank was a careful player and a hard listener. The net result was superb ensemble jazz.

Jimmy Lyons: Jimmy Lyons Box Set

by



Add Jimmy Lyons' name to the list of under-appreciated jazz musicians. Despite several solo albums and side projects, his destiny irrevocably links him to Cecil Taylor. No other musician has a longer association with the revolutionary pianist, and no other musician seemed so intent on keeping Taylor honest jazzwise. While as fearless and inventive as anyone playing free jazz, the alto saxophonist always kept something of Charlie Parker in his playing no matter how far outside he went. That effervescent phrasing, the streaming ideas, and phrase-ending lilt made him indispensable to Taylor's Units. He was usually the most overtly playful voice in any ensemble. Where he went and how he got there remained a surprise, but the white-knuckle ride always justified the trip.

Ayler Records brings Lyons out from behind Taylor's imposing shadow with a lovingly produced 5-CD live set, each disc featuring a concert from a different year, beginning in '72 and ending in '85, a year before his untimely death. While the tapes were recorded casually without thought of commercial release, the performances themselves override any quibbling over sound quality. While Taylor himself is absent, Lyons surrounds himself with various Unit alumni, including William Parker, Karen Borca, and Raphe Malik.

The Jimmy Lyons Quartet recorded at Sam Rivers' Rivbea loft space in '72 gets things started with Lyons, trumpeter Raphe Malik, drummer Sydney Smart, and bassist Hayes Burnett. On 'Jump Up,' Burnett sets a steady bass with Smart busily beating along. Lyons and Malik play a little tag, then Lyons plays it cool before slipping the leash and taking off. Malik takes his time over the tumultuous rhythm section, but after some nudging from Jimmy he flies into smears and runs.

Returning to Rivers' loft in '75, Lyons and Burnett join Henry Letcher for some trio variations. On 'Heritage II,' Letcher stays fairly steady while Burnett and Lyons go exploring. Lyons sings in short burst phrases, launching cluster upon cluster. After extensive variations, the saxophonist moves into extended territory before coming back for many measures of sweetly voiced inventions.

Jimmy goes solo from a performance in '81, playing mid-range and dropping to hit root notes with ease. From '84, Karen Borca joins him on bassoon and Paul Murphy drums for 'We Sneezawee.' Lyons sails through the piece with Murphy right there with him. Borca adds some accents, but during her solo she shows herself capable of replying in kind.

The concert from '85 recovers the quartet format, again with Borca and Murphy, this time with William Parker on bass. 'Shakin' Back' has Parker taking on the daunting task of creating at Jimmy's pace. Lyons eases up a bit a lets Parker lead. Borca gives no slack and takes her solo at breakneck speed.

Included in the package are rare photos and the most exhaustive biography of Lyons available. Priding itself on the quality of its unissued live performances, Ayler has added a valuable entry to the Jimmy Lyons discography. 

Personnel: Jimmy Lyons, alto sax; Karen Borca, bassoon; Hayes Burnett, William Parker, bass; Henry Letcher, Paul Murphy, Sydney Smart, drums; Ralph Malik, trumpet.

Title: Jimmy Lyons Box Set | Year Released: 2003 | Record Label: Ayler Records

https://jazztimes.com/reviews/albums/jimmy-lyons-the-box-set/



Jimmy Lyons: The Box Set



Jimmy Lyons is one of the most intriguing musicians to emerge in the 1960s, as the alto saxophonist provided one of the strongest links between bebop and the New Thing. Unlike many of the movement’s provincially raised exponents, Lyons spent his formative years in New York, where he was able to jam with the likes of Cannonball Adderley and Elmo Hope before his historic, quarter-century association with Cecil Taylor began in 1961. Unlike some of his contemporaries, Lyons’ solos were about not just notes but phrases: short, jolting cries and serpentine, blues-drenched lines passionately and expertly strung together. There is no more direct route connecting Charlie Parker to the ’60s and its ongoing aftermath than Jimmy Lyons.

Yet this did not initially benefit Lyons, who, for a number of reasons, was slow to make his own records. After balking at an offer of a Prestige date in ’61, Lyons had to wait until 1969, and then only made the minor classic Other Afternoons (BYG/Actuel) because of the last-minute cancellation of a Taylor-led session. Gaining traction as the leader of working bands took even longer. Lyons’ units worked primarily in the New York loft scene until well into the ’70s, and it was only a few years before his death in 1986 that Lyons found a steady outlet for their music with the Black Saint label. Still, Lyons left a sufficient body of work for him to be considered a major voice in his own right, a legacy significantly enhanced by The Box Set, a five-CD collection of ensemble and solo concerts spanning the years 1972 to ’85.

In a 1978 interview excerpt with WKCR programmer Taylor Storer that is included in the collection, Lyons states that he saw few distinctions between composition and improvisation, a sensibility no doubt reinforced by his association with Cecil Taylor. However, Lyons pursued this position through conventionally formatted pieces, with themes usually stated in unison by the front line. The evolution of his thematic materials is an important thread of this collection, one that is potentially overlooked given the wealth of impassioned performances. The earliest concert, a ’72 Studio Rivbea set with trumpeter Raphe Malik, bass player Hayes Burnett and drummer Sidney Smart, reveals Lyons to be navigating several overlapping currents. The tune that came to be Lyons’ signature, “Jump Up,” is a revving motivic line somewhat in the vein of Sonny Rollins’ “East Broadway Run Down.” “Mr. 1-2-5 Street” shows adeptness at the early Ornette Coleman gambit of gluing together fragmentary phrases with buoyant rhythmic shifts. And “Ballad 1” initially drifts toward Coleman and then veers with a Coltrane-ish phrase.

Largely because of his alto’s central role, Lyons’ pieces never seem derivative. The saxophonist bonded a jabbing attack and a plaintive tone in an instantly recognizable manner, and everything he wrote flowed from the resulting soul-stirring sound. This is most evident in the hour-plus solo concert recorded in ’81 at Soundscape. It is simply engrossing to hear Lyons’ sense of design morph effortlessly into cascading improvisations without being triggered by the abrupt abandonment of the theme by a second horn or the on-cue stretching of the rhythm section. This is not to suggest that Lyons could not achieve comparable results at the helm of a small group, a fact attested to by the expansive ’75 trio outing with Burnett and drummer Henry Letcher. Still, this 90-minute Studio Rivbea workout does not represent Lyons’ music at its pinnacle.

It takes the enlistment of two musicians outside the New York loft scene for Lyons’ ensemble sound to reach full maturity. One is Paul Murphy, a drummer whose relentless drive and conservatory-honed precision and agility could single-handedly propel Lyons’ music, as confirmed by a bass-less 1984 concert recorded in Geneva. However, the crucial catalytic voice in Lyons’ group was bassoonist Karen Borca, the most dazzling double-reed player in jazz history. Not only did Borca’s throaty chortle perfectly complement Lyons’ tone, her virtuosity gave Lyons the latitude to ratchet up the degree of difficulty of his rapid-fire themes and to explore contrapuntal writing. On both the Geneva concert and the ’85 Brown University concert that closes this set (with the now omnipresent William Parker rounding out the quartet), Borca’s subwooferlike rumble in the heads and her high-voltage solos prove to be essential to Lyons’ music.

All in all, The Box Set is a triumph.

http://www.janstrom.se/2.-preface/2.5.-biography-6220705

JIMMY LYONS SESSIONOGRAPHY


2.5.   BIOGRAPHY


This material doesn't claim to be a complete biography of Jimmy Lyons. It will just be some quotes from fellow musicians and critics.

Jimmy Lyons was born December 1, 1933, Jersey City, NJ and died May 19, 1986 in New York.

A detailed history about Jimmy Lyons's childhood and his musical approach is covered in the Bob Rusch interview in Cadence Magazine, October 1978.

More from Jimmy´s life is given in the liner book to "Jimmy Lyons - The Box Set" on Ayler Records from 2003 by Ben Young  and Ed Hazell.

In the same book there are also notes from Raphé Malik, Hayes Burnett, Sydney Smart, Henry Maxwell Letcher, Karen Borca, William Parker and Paul Murphy.

Brief information of Jimmy Lyons's history was given by WKCR-FM, NYC in a radio broadcast on the 27th of May, 1996. The program was dedicated to a Jimmy Lyons Memorial Day and his music was played.

Jimmy Lyons met Cecil Taylor in 1961 when he was playing with his own band opposite Cecil Taylor in New York and this Sessionography also starts, 1961, and ends, 1985, with recordings together with Cecil Taylor.

Many of the innovators in jazz have been treated in both negative and positive words and the same goes for Jimmy Lyons.

As an example of the former, here is Miles Davis in "Downbeat" 1964 when listening to the title "Lena" from Cecil Taylor's album "Invitations", recorded in Copenhagen, Denmark, 1962, session No. 62-1123:
"Take it off! That's some sad ____, man. In the first place, I hear some Charlie Parker cliché's ... They don't even fit. Is that what the critics are digging? If there ain't nothing to listen to, they might as well admit it. Just to take something like that and say it's great, because there ain't nothing to listen to, that's like going out and getting a prostitute." " ...... And when the alto player sits up there and plays without no tone ... That's the reason I don't buy any records."
Concerts with the same Trio but performed one month earlier at the Golden Circle in Stockholm, Sweden, was reviewed by Lars Werner in "Orkesterjournalen" (SE), November 1962. (Session No. 62-1000B and 62-1014):

" ....... If one was listening carefully to Jimmy Lyons' alto saxophone playing (which is the most basic and most insight from Parker I've ever have heard, the substance in the tone is there and the beauty in the music as well), one suddenly discover that the Parker, one thought was a closed period, has enough music strength left to stimulate to continuing conquest. Taylor, Lyons and Murray have really started to utilise the many rhythmical intimations about new horizons which are there at Parker and at the forties- Roach. It requires such a deep musical insight to be able to develop Parker's work, that I have believed that it was impossible, but now I have experienced it.

And you, who listened at The Golden Circle, remember that you have experienced something equal to the Armstrong Hot Five or just the Parker Quintet.

My God, I have rarely had so much fun when I've been listening to music as when I heard the Cecil Taylor Group. Did you hear the interaction between Taylor and Lyons, Taylor was Lyons' left hand speaking piano ... "

The photographer, Brian McMillen, was present at a concert with Cecil Taylor Unit at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco in 1978:

"As far as reminiscence about the Cecil Taylor concert, that was 22 years ago! But, I was struck by the members of the band's communications about cues, etc. It seemed that just a glance, or maybe osmosis, was needed from Cecil, for the other players to come in and play their parts after a long and seemingly unpredictable solo.

I respect this music so much, if only for its mystery. I don't pretend to "understand" it. But after hearing a performance by these musicians, I feel like I've just partaken of a nourishing 5-course meal – satiated!"
Jimmy Lyons music is maybe best described by Stanley Crouch who in the liner notes of the album "We Sneezawee", Black Saint, 120067-2 (session No. 83-0926-27) summarises my own feelings:
"At this point in his career, Jimmy Lyons is clearly a master of what he does and his decisions are backed up with a technique equalled by few associated with the avant garde.

Listen to the confidence he has in every register of his instrument; listen to the size of his sound; note the ease with which he gives definition to each tone, darkening this one, wising that one.

In fact, he is the veteran songbird of so-called new jazz and one of the few virtuosi that body of players can claim.

The command of articulation is often startling and the large reservoir of heart that centres his expression gives the resonance of purity to his ideas.
But Lyons has long been quite separate from many gathered under the misnomer avant garde because his work is the result of choice, not last resort. When he picks up the saxophone, his authority is so obvious that the listener quickly realises he is listening to a blue ribbon instrumentalist.

This is far from a simple accomplishment in a day when any kind of ineptitude is excused with facile theories about "concept", no more than a seven-letter veil for men who are usually no more than folk – as in unsophisticated – musicians at best. Lyons is far above that and his work glistens with midnight oil. It is easy to hear the many, many years spent developing the muscles of the throat, the mouth, the lungs, and the fingers. The ease which he spins out such difficult passages bespeaks the slow and laborious task of learning where each note is and how many different ways it can be fingered for a specific texture. Beyond that, there is the suppleness of the directions he takes and the emotional sweep from the harsh and isolated to the buoyant a joyous. Of course, if one has yet to master his instrument in the terms of his idiom's language, he is in deep trouble when it comes to expressing himself. Which is way I have pointed so far at the excellent technique of Jimmy Lyons: it is the result of much hard work that has panned out for statements than have more to say than how he practised. He has authority.

What gives Lyons his personal authority is the richness of his melodic imagination, something he brings with powerful confidence to all playing situations. He now and then uses noise elements for heated punctuation, but his greatest feeling is for the lovely linking of songs-in-progress.
It was this gift that made one of the three most important alto saxophonists in the sixties.

His work in the Cecil Taylor Unit stood up next to that Ornette Coleman and Eric Dolphy, revealing, as did theirs, the heavy conceptual shadow of Charlie Parker. In fact, it is quite interesting that most who hated the work of those men because it used other material than bebop, never noticed how much those alto saxophonists had obviously studied flight patterns of the Kansas City Bird.

But Lyons is primarily a New York saxophonist and his sound is full of the subway, the skyscrapers, the density of people covering the sidewalks, the bleachers, and the grass of the parks. His lines have swiftness and the explosion of stickball or the fast breaks on the asphalt courts. Or he can coax full moon whole notes from the horn that are resonant with delicate desire. Then there is the fury which seems less like anger than the force of blood swirling through the body. Inside the sound there is also a shyness and the humble elegance of an actual gentleman, not by rote but by the reined power of sympathetic personality.

It usually takes a superior man to make a superior musician. Jimmy Lyons is both."

Stanley Crouch also kindly contributes with his: "One Fast Blues For Jimmy":

"Some time, around twenty years ago, I was booking the Tin Palace, a club on Second Street and the Bowery. I tried to present the best of the serious swingers like George Coleman, Clifford Jordan, Philly Joe Jones, and Gary Bartz--as well as the best of those working outside of the basic conventions, musicians like Dewey Redman, Henry Threadgill, Arthur Blythe, and Jimmy Lyons.

I was especially fond of those four musicians, since each of them brought something particular to the bandstand, as player, composer, and leader.

For a while, the Tin Palace was THE hot club on the Eastside, with the club filling up late at night as other rooms closed and those still seeking to hear some jazz came rushing in.

When Jimmy Lyons was in there with his Quartet, featuring bassoonist Karen Borca, even those who had contempt for anything outside of bebop were chastened by his abilities.

First, he had an enormous sound and used no microphone. The sound was not only fat; it was thick and had plenty of weight to it.

Freed from the insistence of Cecil Taylor's piano, Lyons played quite differently that listeners were accustomed to hearing. He was able to take his time and there was the space to mash his sound on the air. He could give in to his lyricism, which was shining while full of the tart recognition that underlay the tragic observations of Charlie Parker, from whom he, like Ornette Coleman, surely came. In Lyons, one could hear the line from Parker reworked to fit all of the options Cecil Taylor had introduced him to, not only in terms of harmony but in terms of phrasing and even more disjunctive melodic phases than those Parker played.

Bassist Ted Wald, who had played with Parker in the great Bird's last days, was telling people to go to the Palace and hear Lyons and they came, those musicians, along with listeners who were not accustomed to hearing Lyons out there on his own.

I don't recall seeing anyone leave when he was playing nor did I notice any sneers. Not only because of what Lyons was playing but because Borca was flying over the bassoon, too.

Lyons and I talked often on the phone and he was one of those deep New Yorkers who had heard plenty of music, loved to watch basketball games, and could handle him some gin, if I'm recalling correctly. Lyons was from the Bronx. He had plenty of stories about the lore of the music, the people he had seen and been around growing up, such as Elmo Hope, who lived next door and would come home with Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk, where they would drink, argue, and play the piano, one after another challenging the other two.

He was a good man and a witty guy with broad intelligence. There was plenty of humility there and there was such abundant soul that, when he once guessed with David Murray's Octet at the Public Theater, many were shocked by how down home he got when playing a duet with Olu Dara on the blues.
There was so much more to his ability than was heard in the Cecil Taylor's band, which was wonderful for what it was, of course. But those who never heard Jimmy Lyons work outside of that context and call upon the vast knowledge and feeling that he had for jazz truly missed something.

But, well, it was hear, it was heard, and those of us who were there will remember it and we, at least in terms of the way it changed our own emotional makeup, will pass it on."

Lars- Olof Gustavsson, Silkheart Records:

"Jimmy Lyons is one of my absolute favourites. I will never forget when I heard Cecil Taylor's group at St. Patrick's Cathedral, 5th Avenue in New York on New Years Eve 1972. The concert began at 11 p.m. and was supposed to continue to 1 am the next day. By the way, I have some photographs also.

The group started and it was a huge sound between the stone walls in the church. Especially the drums gave very strong echoes but also the piano was very strong. So, it was a very arduous concert. Andrew Cyrille was on drums and I think it was Sirone on bass. Just before 12 o'clock, a fuse was broken and it became completely dark in the whole church.

The fantastic thing was that, the musicians continue to play as nothing had happened. Very strong. It took about 10 minutes before someone found some candles which then were the only light for about 10 to 20 minutes. It was a fantastic scene. Jimmy Lyons playing was unbelievable! The melodic flow and his fantastic clear tone. He very seldom played in the low register when he played with Cecil".

André Martinez: I do remember us playing in Messina, Cagliari, Sardinia with Jimmy in 1983. I know for sure because I was carrying a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black for a friend from Brooklyn to give to his brother in Sicily and Jimmy persuaded me to give it to him, and that we would replace it before we reached Messina.

Jimmy is one the greatest saxophonist of all time. I remember one day on tour in Poland he told that me that the happiest time he ever had in the last 25 years was with this Unit. I have never forgotten that.
About the tour in Europe October 1984: I was the only drummer. Rashid and Brenda only played the 3 concerts of the tour series due to the fact that an accident occurred after a concert in Milan where Brenda was stroked in the head by falling stage lights which could have been fatal had not the piano an my percussion table prevented it from it hitting the floor where she laid.

In an interview Andrew Cyrille, drummer, says:

"Jimmy was consistent. I never saw a change in terms his dedication or his concept. Jimmy was the extension on alto saxophone of Cecil's piano playing. I mean, as fast as Cecil would play some of those licks on the piano, Jimmy would execute that stuff on the saxophone, you see, and with all those rhythms, etceteras".

"'Cause Cecil would actually give him lines to play. And then of course he would play those lines and then extrapolate on those lines in relationship to what else was going on as far as the concept was concerned, like a prescription".

"We had prescriptions, as odd as that may sound. In other words, we had written music. That's what I call by prescription".

(ã Cadence Jazz Magazine www.cadencebuilding, Vol. 21 No.1, January 1995)

Andrew Cyrille again:

"Jimmy was frustrated. Jimmy was a very sensitive person and he felt that he did not get what he deserved.

He felt that there were so many other people who were not as well versed as he, and didn't put their time and energy in, that were getting things, that people were just overlooking him".

"He wanted to develop his group. There were a host of reasons for staying in the Unit (Cecil Taylor's), but I think the main one was economic. He needed the money. Cecil would call him for a gig; he'd want to make the gig. But a lot of times Cecil wouldn't work and, you know, you have a mortgage to pay, you got rent to pay. So how you gonna do that?

And Jimmy was not enterprising enough or – yeah, I guess so, you gotta kind of have the aggressiveness or at least-"

"He was a gentle fellow, yeah, refined.

And you go out and gotta hang out in some of those clubs and sometimes people say no, but you gotta go back or you gotta go someplace else or you gotta think of somethin' to do that'll keep your shit out there. And he wasn't working with other people. A lot of times didn't call him for jobs, he was with Cecil".

"Jimmy, you know, was just frustrated. And that's what brought the tears. I was with him the night he died. And that was just awful".

"His mother and Karen were with him. You know, of course, I had to go and a few hours after I left the hospital, it was morning, I got the call from Karen that said he's gone. I remember I left the hospital and I went down to Sweet Basil's, so I'm sitting up in the front, over on the side and I'm feelin' terrible and all of a sudden who comes through the door but Cecil. I said "Cecil!" "Who's that?". "It was me". And he comes over and I said. "Man, Jimmy is gone." We sat there talking and then I went home".

(ã Cadence Jazz Magazine www.cadencebuilding, Vol. 21 No.2, February 1995)

Cecil Taylor, pianist, from an interview:

"Oh, Jimmy Lyons is the right arm of Cecil Taylor's music. He's the instructor".

(ã Cadence Jazz Magazine www.cadencebuilding, Vol. 4, No. 1, April 1978)

Joel Futtermann, pianist, says:

"Jimmy was a beautiful and warm person with a fantastic ear. I met him first time at Newport, Virginia in 1979.

I never forget when he came down to my place in Norfolk, Virginia. He was here two times and played in my home with me and Robert Adkins, and we also played in a church and it was a very hot day. I gave him some sheet music and he started to take it in. Jimmy took his shirt off and played for 7 straight hours. Just a break for a beer. He was a beautiful man"

(On telephone, 13 July, 2000)

In 1982, Jimmy came down because we had a concert in Newport News, Virginia.

One day we visited this occult book store. Some cat who owned the store was trying to sell us some books by following us and just rapping about these certain books. In that moment, Jimmy began sneezing. Probably 8 or 9 sneezes in a row.

I asked Jimmy if he was ok and his reply was.

"Joel, I think I'm allergic to this dude. Let's get of this scene."

Also, we did a beautiful spontaneous rendition of When Smoke Gets In Your Eyes and Round Midnight. Jimmy played my daughter's flute and I played on an upright piano at the time in the garage.

It wasn't corded recorded. But the music was very hip!! (E-mail January 29, 2006)
 

Jules Epstein:

"In the mid-seventies, here in Philadelphia, there was a well-regarded jazz club, The Foxhole (a reincarnation of Geno's Empty Foxhole), that operated in the basement of St. Mary's Church. The club was run by a non-profit collective, of which I was a member.

We brought Cecil Taylor in to perform, and the concert was in the church itself. My memory (I ran the stage, did the miking/sound) was of kneeling in awe at the side of Taylor and watching his hands slash away at the piano. We had rented a grand for the occasion (a major budget problem for our truly non-profit club). On the first night, all of a sudden a black shape went whizzing away; at the break we found it to be one of the piano's black keys, sheered away by the simple strength of Taylor's strikes. We somehow glued it back on and the music continued".


Bobby Zankel: The value and significance of things is best understood in their relationship to their environment.

When I first heard Jimmy, the great Sam Rivers was the other voice in Cecil Taylor's band. I heard the group a few amazing evenings at Slug's in NYC.
Later I got to hear them rehearse and perform a number of times in Madison, Wisconsin (Cecil was teaching and had a big band that I was part of).

The magic of Jimmy's sound was overwhelming. He had an incredible projection and penetration without ever seeming loud-the core was fat and round and surrounded by a rainbow of overtones (when we practiced together it did not sound like the same instrument).

His concentration was so intense that his control was the same at "highest tempos".

The depth of his mastery of the history of the saxophone is epitomized in his relationship with Charlie Parker. Jimmy thoroughly internalised bird's sound, attack/articulations, phraseology and then put that knowledge to serve his own aesthetic/emotional needs.

I had the great fortune to work under Jimmy in Cecil Taylor's big band for 2 years in Ohio and I studied with Jimmy at his home in the Bronx he was modest kind and generous. I never forget playing a solo in front of Cecil's big band at Carnegie Hall in 1974 and coming back to my music stand in seeing Jimmy smile at me and give me a hug , I was a kid , and he was a Master and he gave me a dream.


Gunnar Moreite, drummer, remembers:

"The Cecil Taylor Trio with Jimmy Lyons and Sunny Murray stayed at Hotel Standard in Oslo for about a week in October 1962 and played at the "Metropole Jazz Club".

The Trio created more or less a scandal with its music and the jazz "experts" became divided in two camps – pro or against.

In those days, jazz was also music for dancing and the club was regularly visited by the "ladies" who hooked their customers on the dancing floor. But, as it was impossible to dance to the Trio's music, the ladies business was destroyed. The pimps threatened to through the Trio out on the street which forced the management to hire a dance band to play in intermissions.

This was a fantastic week and I will never forget it".
 

Jon Christensen, drummer

".... so up popped Cecil Taylor at Metropol with Jimmy Lyons and Sunny Murray and that was an eye opener. I was there with some other chocked Norwegians. We had never heard anything close to this. It was quite "far out" for us. To see Sunny Murray playing contributed to shape my way of thinking. Snare drum, one cymbal and bas drum – what he got out from these! And he played all the time. Normally it was drums and bas .... ding-ding-dingading .... And possibly a drum solo if you where a Gene Krupa or Buddy Rich. But. Here he played drum solo all the time. What was this? No standards, no four beats or eight beats. That was strong, for sure!"
From "JazzNytt" (NO), No. 01.2010.
 

Marc Edwards, drummer:

Listening to the "Jimmy Lyons – The Box Set", the music is stunning in its beauty, sparkling like a diamond under a bright light.

Jimmy was more than a good alto saxophonist. He's what I call a musician's musician or a virtuoso if you will. Virtuosos are not only masters, experts at what they do; they talk directly to God through their instruments or whatever their respective activities happens to be (in any career field).

I was very fortunate that I had the opportunity to work Jimmy while I was in Cecil Taylor's band also known as the Cecil Taylor Unit. Some musicians feel that Jimmy didn't get his due, meaning his fifteen minutes of fame, because he remained with Cecil all those years. Yes, that's one point of view. I feel that had Jimmy Lyons done more gigs under his name, the recognition would have come.
After I left the CT Unit, I went to see Cecil and company at the Village Gate around December 1976. They played there for two nights. I think I was there on a Friday night. Jimmy kept asking me questions in between sets. It wasn't until after I got home that I realized he was interested in using me in his band. At the time, I was going through changes. Playing this music can stir up one's personal stuff on the inside. This may be a reason why some artists take time off from the music and return at a later date. Had I not been going through this, I would have loved working with Jimmy. I would have said, "Yes Jimmy, I'm interested."

I first met Jimmy when he came to a rehearsal for Cecil's large ensemble.

At first, we had less than ten people attending the rehearsals. When the rehearsal ended, Jimmy sat down on the couch. He smiled in our direction, but that meant, he wanted us to play. He needed to see what we could do.

Cecil probably told him about us and I'm quite sure Jimmy had heard the word of mouth on the grapevine regarding David S. Ware and I. We started doing our thing, the high energy approach.

During this time period, that approach was popular in the seventies. Cecil had left as he had a commitment elsewhere. We did some nice peaks and then we settled down to the coda (final section of a musical composition) of this spontaneous improvised piece and brought it to a close. I went over to Jimmy and he started talking to me. I found that Jimmy was very down to earth. He liked what David and I were playing. He could tell that we were above average musicians. Most musicians talk a good game but when you hear them play, often times; it's the exact opposite, all talk and no music.

A record producer once told me, "Marc, sometimes there's more philosophy than there is music." I concur with that. I will say that for some musicians, most of the time, there is nothing but talk (philosophy) and the artist can't play. If they can't play then, one can expect little music from such an individual. No music will emerge from an empty can. Cats love to talk but few can back up their talking with their playing. The talking and playing are often times, light years apart. I've met lots of musicians and a very small percentage was exceptionally talented.

Jimmy was light years ahead of most horn players as he had lived through the Bebop era and could play that music. Lots of free cats are primarily limited to playing free. I haven't mastered all aspects of inside playing however, when I play time, you'd never know it was a free drummer playing. Keeping time is the primary function of a drummer. As the music evolved, drummers began to deviate from this role.
Jimmy and I hit it off very well. I told David that he should talk to Jimmy. David did that the next day. Jimmy returned to the rehearsal and he lead the band until Cecil arrived. We may have had a few more people in the ensemble that day. Word was slowly spreading that Cecil had a large group and he needed more musicians to play his music. David and I had gotten the word directly from Cecil. We were hanging out with him at Carnegie Hall seeing the Gil Evans big band that night. We saw Marvin Hannibal Peterson on trumpet. I thought he was going to be very big in Jazz but it didn't happen. David maintained his contact with Cecil. We didn't know it but we were already on our way to making a name for ourselves.

As word got around, the band grew to a sizable number. Shortly before we were about to do the show at Carnegie Hall, there was a large influx of musicians. Most could read so it wasn't a problem. Jimmy would often lead these sessions if Cecil wasn't around. He would tell the horn players how to play the lines properly if the lines didn't sound right. Jimmy even told the drummers very early on during these rehearsals, not to use sticks all the time. The music had changed and Rashied Bakr and I had not made an adjustment when the melodic lines had gone noticeably to softer dynamics.
The band had gone from loud to soft. We were playing, using a more upbeat approach. That's when Jimmy stopped the ensemble and told us, "Drummers! Change up, ........ use brushes!"

I began using brushes a lot more after Jimmy offered this timely tip. Rashied Bakr was the second drummer in the band during the rehearsals. He was just starting out on the drums.

I recall Emmett Chapman, the inventor of the instrument he called, "The Stick." Chapman did visit one of the early rehearsals, but did not join the ensemble. He had an amazing sound on that instrument. He really stood out from other instrumentalists during the seventies era. What I liked about Jimmy was that he was patient with the musicians. Most caught on to the materials fairly quickly and did whatever was asked of them. As the date for the show got closer, Jimmy and Cecil began to focus on nuances of the lines. The band had gotten the music down pat.

When we actually did the show at Carnegie Hall, nearly the entire audience got up en mass and left the room. This happened as soon as the ensemble started playing. Only a few die hard Cecil Taylor fans were left in the vast open space of Carnegie Hall. Gene Ashton was there in the balcony. He yelled something to David just before he took his solo. My mom heard Gene and she told me what he had said in the morning.

Jimmy took a solo during this performance. Cecil didn't really take a solo. He was playing, but he stopped and crossed his leg while he listened closely to David S. Ware while he was soloing. I was surprised but kept playing as did a number of the musicians. Everyone wanted to play with Ware. When Sonny Murray came in the ensemble he wanted a little more order in the percussion section.

We had agreed that each of us, the four drummers would play behind the various soloists. It's no big surprise I chose David S. Ware.

Before we went on stage, Cecil told David to take his time and build his solo. David had the flu that night. I don't know how he got through his solo. He played for a few short minutes. Had he been healthy, he would have played for a longer duration.

I can't recall how long Jimmy played but he was in fine form as he is on this box set. Most of these shows were done before I joined the Cecil Taylor Unit.

I was working with Jimmy from the fall of 1973 until we did the show at Carnegie Hall in March of 1974.
I was somewhat idle after that period (March 1974 - June 1976) until I got a call from Cecil. He wanted me to join the band. I did join and was very pleased to be working with him and Jimmy. David S. Ware and Malik were already in the band. They were very pleased to see me come on board.

Andrew Cyrille had left Cecil to start a solo career. I was in the right place at the right time.

Jimmy was warm and friendly as ever. He and Raphé Malik had bonded while Ware and I kept each other company and out of trouble, meaning women. We were so focused on the music that we didn't bother having girlfriends during this period. We considered ourselves to be serious musicians, the likes of which this world had never seen. I laugh about that now. I'll talk more about Jimmy Lyons and the impact he has had on the scene. Most horn players don't study Jimmy. They really should. Jimmy was very proficient on the alto sax. Every musician should study anyone who has mastered their instrument(s).

I'm listening to the first CD in The Box (aylCD 036). I didn't know Raphé Malik had worked with Jimmy Lyons. I knew he had met Jimmy, Cecil, and Andrew while he was in college. Malik loved the music and he would often check out cats. That's how he met David S. Ware, Gene Ashton and yours truly. I remember how excited he was when he saw us playing. We were playing and all of a sudden we saw Raphé in the room, leaning against the wall, nodding his head, digging the music. He had heard us playing as he was walking down the street. He followed the sounds until he located us on the third floor. Raphé reminded me that it was he that used to attend the Apogee rehearsals at the building across the street from the New England Conservatory. I had forgotten about him because I was so focused on the music of Apogee. I didn't focus so much on the people that would sometimes stop by to check us out. Such visits were almost rare. It was the three of us playing the music. I like what I'm hearing on this CD. Raphé is very much in sync with Jimmy. This CD, aylCD-036, is a revelation.

As I listen to the audience applause, I'm reminded that before cable TV, home videos and video games caught on in America, people would go out frequently to hear live music. We don't see as large audiences today as we have in the past. Only the Jazz stars are pulling in the larger audiences. Most people are staying home after a hard day at work, preferring to play video games or watching their favourite satellite/cable TV programs.

I must say I'm impressed with the music on all of the CDs in this Box Set.

Kudos to all of the musicians. Special kudos to drummer, Sydney Smart. His drumming is razor sharp throughout. He is another musician I missed during this time period. Karen Borca is very vibrant on these recordings. I wish she were more active on the current scene. I did not hear of bassist, Hayes Burnett until this recording. I would have told Ware about his playing had I seen him perform. I was in New York City and I did sometimes attend shows at the Studio Rivbea. I was mostly spending time with Apogee.

We continued our rehearsals during the week three to four nights out of each week. We would often rehearse on Saturday afternoons. Since I had a day job, I couldn't attend rehearsals every day. The band had gotten very tight so Ware and Ashton felt we didn't need to hit it that often. I was glad, I would have had problems trying to work a day job and play at night. That would be burning the candle at both ends; not an easy thing to do.

Drummer, Paul Murphy also sounds good during his tenure with Jimmy. He adds the right amount of spice to the music without playing loudly nor overpowering the band.

Former band-mate, bassist, William Parker always sounds good.

Jimmy was very level headed and calm. The only time I saw him get angry was off the band stand while we were travelling. Some bonehead fool had violated Jimmy's space in the men's room. Jimmy angrily reported him to the local train officials. The European official got on top of that situation. There was a time when it meant something to be an American citizen. Over the years, the image of the US has gone down. Regardless, Jimmy was quickly backed to his normal self after the incident passed. We were travelling to our next show somewhere in Europe.

When we got on the train, I would show Jimmy and Raphé some of my drumming techniques. This was at Jimmy's request. He was curious about what I was playing. I would play my ideas slowly and then give Jimmy my sticks and ask him to repeat what I had played. Jimmy caught on quickly as did Raphé. Ware already knew drumming concepts. He would show me stuff whenever we got together during Apogee (this was a trio consisting of David S. Ware on tenor sax, Gene Ashton - piano, and yours truly on drums) rehearsals.

Raphé would tease Jimmy while we were on the road and we would all laugh.

There was a lot of good nature kidding and joking in the band. This helped to release the tension we'd sometimes feel after playing such intense sets while the band was on tour.

Before we went to Europe, the band did a short tour in the US and Canada.

We went to the West Coast performing in San Francisco at a club called the Keystone Corner. What was interesting about this club was it had a colourful painting on the side of the building. It featured Sonny Rollins playing a large horn of plenty. I told David that I had seen this image in a dream. In my dream, the horn was huge. Newk was playing it, standing on the second floor of a small building while the bell of the horn extended down to the street sidewalk. At the street level, the horn had an extremely wide opening. Newk was incredibly melodic on this instrument. I don't think I've heard him play better except on a small select few of his albums. I was in a state of disbelief when I saw that painting. I kept a diary so I know I wrote it down prior to our visiting the club.

We played there for a week. Just before we went on, Archie Shepp and others in his band were treating us (David, Raphé and yours truly) like we were inexperienced little boys). After we played the first set that put an end to that mentality. Their attitude changed fast. They saw that we were dead serious about playing the Free Jazz.

They started treating us with a lot more respect, even as their equals.

I could tell Cecil was pleased with the band. During the rehearsals, we were playing the lines so well that he started smiling as we went through his compositions. Jimmy sounded great soaring over the music, while Cecil and I kept creating chaotic vortexes, whirl winds of destruction underneath. Sometimes, Cecil stood while the band played the lines and he would observe what we were doing. At times, either of the horn players would ask Cecil a question regarding the phrasing of the lines. Cecil readily provided the answers. The horns did sound good. They could do no wrong with the lines. We didn't realize it but the preparation was the major reason we were able to get to this audience, emotionally and otherwise.

The crowd was very hip to the Free Jazz. They were with us and they showed their love by giving us standing ovations at the end of each set, night after night. It was unbelievable. I have never had this experience in my later years when I've done shows. Some in the audience had only planned to see us play for one night. After we played so well, the word or mouth went out and the next night, even more people had shown up to catch the band. Everyone was in fine form. I don't know if anyone recorded the music from the CT Unit nor Archie Shepp's band.

Both bands were competing somewhat although we weren't thinking of it that way.

What I liked about Jimmy and Cecil is their use of melodic lines or themes. Not all musicians in the Free Jazz use this approach. This is how I learned this music. It was through the use of written compositions and/or lines that I learned how to support horn players when they're soloing. This technique is also useful when one is playing behind more than one horn player whether it be a small group or a large ensemble. A drummer must listen and simply be aware of what's happening in the band.

It's not a free-for-all. There's a lot of listening involved. Jimmy was aware I had the ability to pay attention and he would utilize this in the CT Unit. Even with my loud drumming I was able to maintain a certain level of excitement in the music based upon what was happening at any given musical moment. This, in my opinion, cannot be taught. Such a quality has to come from the artist. Either you have it, or you don't. Jimmy and Cecil were pleased that all of us played our butts off at each and every show. It didn't matter if we were tired, jet-lagged or whatever. When we got on the band stand, we always took care of business.

When the band went to Canada, we had to change planes at the Seattle airport in order to get to Vancouver. The airport had a futuristic appearance. I almost expected to hear a director say "Cut! That's a wrap."

I had never seen an airport like this one; very impressive! We had to take a shuttle to travel to a different section of the airport to catch our plane. Again, the shuttle looked like something out of a science fiction movie. I was bowled over. Once we arrived in Vancouver, we headed for the hotel.

That night we played at a club called Oil Can Harry. I remember the term from a western movie, although I can't recall its significance at the moment. A writer spoke to Jimmy and Jimmy complained to me afterward. He thought the writer's comments were off base. That's what most musicians have told me about writers over the years. I told Jimmy, "Here's my take on that scenario".

When we started playing Cecil was playing by himself. The writer was listening to Cecil doing a solo act. Cecil was now the focus of his attention. After Cecil had played at length, you joined in. Now the writer is focusing on the two of you." I watched them play for a while and at some point I joined in drumming somewhat loudly. Because the writer was already engaged with Cecil and Jimmy, he told Jimmy after the set that what he had played was the best that he had heard Jimmy play in years. Jimmy didn't like the writer's comments. Jimmy told me, "Marc, I'm always playing," and that was true. Jimmy always played his ass off. After I had shared my opinion, Jimmy could see where the writer was coming from. Because the three of us did not all play together at the same time until the very end, that made the writer see and hear Jimmy in a different light.

I don't know if it was the same writer, but a writer did approach me later during the week. He was asking a lot of questions. The impression I got, "He's trying to get me to validate his ideas and opinions about the music." I thought he was nuts. His opinions were so off the wall, I'm glad I don't have a clear recollection of what he wanted me to validate. I don't need that kind of junk in my head. Over all, the band played well at the club. Attendance was light if I remember correctly. I believe I did see this same writer at a Jazz talk that was held at the Village Vanguard.

This was the "Talking Jazz Live at the Village Vanguard" on April 26, 2002. Three talks were held there. I was primarily interested in the second talk which discussed the plight of the Jazz musician. The name of that talk was "Work Song." This was an in-depth survey of Jazz musicians.

I had participated in this survey and offered my thoughts about the music and the problems musicians face within the Free Jazz. All of the thoughts and opinions were collected and compiled into this one report.

As I sit here digesting these new sounds from Jimmy Lyons and company, the current scene of musicians doing the Free Jazz are a lot poorer for not having been here when Jimmy was alive. Few alto saxophonists can measure up to the level Jimmy played on. Most alto saxophonists doing this music are weak. They really need to study the alto a lot more. Few are willing to do this. Most young musicians are too busy concentrating on becoming the next biggest thing in Jazz and they're not taking care of business where it counts; achieving mastery of their respective instrument. This isn't limited to those on the alto saxophone; it cuts across the board for all instrumentalists. Jimmy kept pushing himself and he found new challenges to help improve his playing. Practicing is the key but it has to be tempered with performances in front of live audiences. Keep doing this and you'll grow. Anyone will grow using this formula.

I'm sadden that too many of the young musicians are busy looking for short cuts so they can make a name for themselves. I've been playing a number of years, and I conclude that there are none. I wish Jimmy had lived longer; then, the scene would be much stronger in terms of the musical output I'm hearing from the young upcoming musicians. They are the losers in the tragic situation. I hope they will continue to study their horns and include daily offerings of listening to this Jimmy Lyons box set. This will help to make up for Jimmy's absence. It is almost impossible to calculate Jimmy's impact on the Free Jazz scene. There are too many variable to come to a reasonable answer. I can safely say that we were lucky to have Jimmy Lyons with us period. It's unsung heroes like a Jimmy Lyons that keep things moving. Their presence keeps others on their toes.

We don't have as many players on this level today. The few that remain are old and they're getting older. Some day, they too will pass on. I hope that the listeners of this box set will play this music for their family, especially the children. We have to cultivate their musical tastes while they're young, not when they enter the school system. By then it may already be too late. Start with them while they're babies and keep giving them a healthy dose of good music.

I had been off the scene for a good ten years. All of a sudden during May 1986, I was filled with inspiration to play music again. This happened while I was doing my evening meditation. I certainly wasn't expecting anything like this to happen.

I later learned that Jimmy was dying during this month. I called David S. Ware and told him that I felt we should start playing again. David wasn't thrilled. He was in a cycle where he didn't want to perform. Ware told me, "This is why we're good for each other. When you feel like playing, I don't and vice versa." I decided to give him the rest of the details. I told Ware, "I received information during that meditation. I was told that we needed to start playing now because certain opportunities were coming and we needed to position ourselves so we could take advantage of them when they arrived." That got Ware's attention. He said, "We'll have to start playing again." I knew he wouldn't dismiss that last bit of information. We started to rehearse and I was very out of shape. It took a while to regain my playing form.

Had it not been for the inspiration I received from Jimmy Lyons, I might very well have not returned to scene and began playing in public again. I was happily living a normal life, a life in which many people that I would meet did not know who I was. I was okay with that. For some artists, this is what they live for. Not all of us are in agreement on this but this is how it is for me. I hope in the days ahead, the Jazz media will give Jimmy his due and give him the recognition he so richly deserves. I was communicating with another musician recently and we touched base on this subject. Some of the artists that get the most attention aren't the ones that are the true trailblazers. They are neither carrying nor bringing new music to the table. They're using someone else's sound and they're forging careers. I have always found the Jazz media totally incomprehensible. Perhaps more years are required to pass before the dust settles. When it does, future generations will discover Jimmy Lyons and recognize that he was a special musician within the Free Jazz category. This is something that may or may not happen in my lifetime. Whenever it does occur, the Free Jazz will be a lot better off because with the attention, aspiring young musicians will begin to study the things they need to know and not short change themselves as is the case with some of the musicians currently on the scene. This will be a great day when that happens.

Jimmy Lyons was one of the greatest musicians I've had the opportunity to work with. Cecil Taylor would be the other. One does not often meet musicians of this calibre. Speaking as a member of a small group of musicians that worked with Jimmy (& Cecil), it was an honour and a privilege to work with Jimmy.
Do tell your friends about this Box Set and let's help turn others on to his music. One final word to the Jazz media:

It is my hope, my wish, that Jimmy gets his due in the near rather than distant future.
Oluyemi Thomas, saxophonist. About Cecil Taylor Unit´s performance at Keystone Corner, March, 1976:
The performance of the Cecil Taylor unit was very deep and long. I really enjoyed talking with the unit during the break. We all looked at each other with creative joy and firmness, meaning the music was strong and sweet so they looked like the artists that would make frontier minded tones as they wonderfully did. Awesome was that night, the music was being built before my eyes and soul to help me be a more universal spirit being for service to all. I remember and can still hear the music clearly after 38 years ago. Also I remember the beautiful painting of Sonny Rollins on the wall of the building. Marc is right lovely.

Mr. Jimmy is among the best Alto Saxophonist to blow this frontier minded music. He has the cleanest sound, quick thinking, breathing and hands, fullness of tones, direct focus all time and most of all he is connected to the deep modern/ancient spirit world.
I really enjoyed watching him release his joy on his horn, indeed so…
 

True evolving artist and gentleman, we still and always will love him.
 

MR - JIMMY - ALTO – LYONS.  Smiles.
 - Oluyemi Thomas - Bass Clarinet, Saxophone
 

Ras Moshe, tenor saxophonist:

"Ah... Jimmy Lyons. I saw his bands whenever he played. I think I was 13 the first time I saw him. He didn't play that frequently and that's unfortunate, just like Julius Hemphill. His music was incredible...very thought out and disciplined without sacrificing the freedom in the music...he knew Elmo Hope, Bud Powell...he was an original Harlemite. He wrote out some exercises for me that was a great help...hard as hell..but it was worth it..I learned through him that Avant Garde music was not about bullshitting the people and then getting praised for it. I especially remember his performance at The Sound Unity Festival in the spring of '84...Raphe, Karen Borca, William Parker, Paul Murphy...my mind is still blown. We talked on the phone a lot, he was very cool. I didn't know he was sick. I asked him teenage questions like "do you like Jackie McLean"...he got a kick out of that one...he laughed and said "little brother, Jackie is my man..." He actually made me ungrip a Beer with a look at the Blue Note when he was playing there with Cecil in the winter of '84, I was ready to drink it and he gave me a fierce look..that's all he had to do! I let that bottle go with a real quickness. We need to go back to that those days...the way things are now. Sure enough, I tune in to WKCR and I hear about the "late Jimmy Lyons"...oh boy...I think I threw a sandwich against the wall. He told me to "practice and study the classic "Jazz" music, but use it to be free in the music...and fuck what they have to say..." Right on Jimmy Lyons...and thanks for your encouragement...many people were not in the habit of encouraging crazy little Black Jazz fans by the time the '80's came around. I'll get into that at another time sisters and brothers...."
Drummer Dominic Fragman about Paul Murphy´s recording "Cloud Burst":

Cloud Burst is Mad Murphy Records second release. MM2, recorded February 1983 at RCA. This is the first time that RCA ever recorded digital. The company that recorded that session was called Soundstream Inc. Dr. Thomas G. Stockham Jr. founded Sounstream in 1975 out of Salt Lake City, Utah. They were the world's first digital audiophile recording company, providing commercial services for recording and computer-based editing. Also, at this session RCA and Soundstream recorded Paul's drums sound and Jimmy's alto sound to be use as sound sources and reference points for the initial settings for Drum Set and Alto Saxophone.
 

Drummer Paul Muphy: "I loved Jimmy with all my heart .We were very close and the music strongly alludes to our musical thoughts and exploration of composition. Jimmy was the strongest musician I ever played with."
Ras Moshe: I will never forget seeing The Jimmy Lyons Ensemble in 1984 at The Sound Unity Festival. Incredible.Raphe-Karen Borca-Paul Murphy-William Parker.... I couldn't believe that music. The music was tight,but the tightness wasn't a reduction or compromise of the freedom in the music. Not at all. So,I never had that hangup of being "unconnected to tradition",just through hearing these people in person.

I met him when I was 17..I excitedly asked him a really silly 17 year old question: "Do you like Jackie McLean?!"

He enjoyed that one a lot. He laughed and said:"yeah man,Jackie's my man..I've been knowing him forever,that's the cat to listen to."

Finally, Andrew Cyrille again:

"Jimmy Lyons and his music lives within me".

Performances and Recordings of Jimmy Lyons compositions:
 

Glenn Spearman Recorded Jimmy Lyon's composition (?) "Lyons Roars" in May 1994.
On cassette "Glenn Spearman Sextet, Mobiu Music".
with Glen Spearman,ts; Lisle Ellis,b; Marco Enedi,as; Raphe' Malik,tp; Donald Robinson,dr; James Routhier,g.
 

Biggi Vinkeloe The CD "Biggi Vinkeloe Trio – Mr. Nefertiti", Canastereo 124801/J, has the following compositions by Jimmy Lyons:
- "Wee Sneezawee".
- "Jump Up".
- "Shakin Back"
Biggi Vinkeloe, as, fl; Georg Wolf,b; Peeter Uuskyla,dr.
 

Mats Gustafsson Performed and recorded on private tape: "Homage á Jimmy Lyons" in concert at the Museum of Art, Norrköping, Sweden, June 30, 1998.
Mats Gustafsson,as, Peter Brötzmann,ts, Tommy Scotte,b, Kjell Nordeson,dr.
 

Karen Borca 98-0525 Orensanz Art Center, NYC
This concert was part of a Vision Festival Tribute to Jimmy Lyons.

Jimmy Lyons composition "Something Is the Matter" was performed by:

Karen Borca(bassoon,cond), John Hagan(ss,fl,ts), Jeff Hoyer(tb), Arthur
Brooks(tp), Glydis Loman(cello), Scott Currie(bs), Rob Brown(as), Marco
Eneidi(as), Mark Hennon(p), William Parker(b), Jackson Krall(dr), Lisa
Sokolof(vo)


Marco Eneidi Cotton Hill Studios, Albany, NY
September 12 & 13, 1991
Released on cassette:
- "Driads"
- "Never"

Marco Eneidi(as), Raphé Malik(tp), Glenn Spearman(ts), William
Parker(b), Jackson Krall(dr)
 

Mathias Rissi Q4 Orchester Project – Lyons' Brood
A 16 pieces group recorded under leader and composer Mathias Rissis' his work "Lyons' Brood" in Tonstudio Lussi, Basel, Switzerland on
November 25 & 26, 1989.

Creative Works Records, CW 1018-3
 

Charles Tyler recorded on 92-0330 a composition he called: "Photo of Cecil Taylor and Jimmy Lyons" (Bleu Regard CT 1942).
John Tchicai (tenor saxophone)
Glenn Spearman (tenor saxophone), Lisle Ellis (bass) and Mark Oi (guitar)
 

"What To Do About (Jimmy Lyons)"
November 14th, 1993, Bannam Place Theatre, San Francisco, California
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4bbqcMm_mE&feature=youtu.be

Deric Dickens:


Drummer Deric Dickens has released a recording of his Jimmy Lyons tribute band "Words Are Not Enough" recorded in NYC in March, June and August 2014.

Three of Jimmy Lyons kompositions are on the record: "We Sneezawee",
"Premonition" and "My You".
Record: "Streams", Tree Music MTM-005

Deric Dickens and altosaxophonist Jarrett Gilgore has also released a Lyons/Cyrille inspired duo recording called: "Pallaksch", Tree Music.


http://www.dustedmagazine.com/features/157


Lyons' Pride

by Derek Taylor
Dusted Magazine

When Paul Desmond started recording as a leader in late 1954, he and his employer Dave Brubeck ironed out an agreement. The gist of the unwritten pact stated that the alto saxophonist would not involve piano, Brubeck's instrument, in any of his solo ventures. Jimmy Lyons and Cecil Taylor seem to have struck a similar bargain. None of Lyons' solo recordings incorporate piano and the same holds true for six-plus hours of music issued on this sumptuous five-disc Box Set by Ayler Records. Proof of his talent and creativity, Lyon's melodic and harmonic facility makes the absence hardly noticeable. His compositions actually work better without a chordal anchor to ground them, and there are plenty of examples in this set that bear this claim out.

The first disc captures a September 1972 gig at the Sam Rivers-run Studio Rivbea. Sound is surprisingly clean, with clear separation between the instruments and Hayes Burnett's bass especially well preserved by the sonics. The responsive repartee between Lyons and trumpeter Raph' Malik can't help but recall the synergy shared by the more widely touted team of Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry. The horns bounce note clusters back and forth, engaging in a series of sprinting chases that also highlight stylistic differences between the two. Malik alternates staccato bursts with longer lyrical arcs, while Lyons, sounding limber and expressive, races through lithesome lattices of notes.

Drummer Sydney Smart favors volume over finesse and his trip-hammer sticks propel the band at high speeds. He quickly has the audience shouting and cheering with delight and pulls out the stops for blustery bookending solo on the first leap through Lyon's signature 'Jump Up'. 'Gossip' fades in with the quartet already in the throes of a velocious exchange. Once again Smart's drums sound off at stentorian levels and Burnett has to pummel his strings vigorously in order to be heard above the crashing cymbal tide. Lyons' phrasing is a bit brambly in spots as he surfs the frothing rhythmic breakers summoned by his colleagues, but Malik's steady brass is a model of attentive and carefully meted energy from start to finish.

'Ballad One' packs in more emotion than its generic title might imply. Gliding through a loosely harmonized head, the horns eventually defer to Burnett who builds a deep thrumming statement from the bottom reaches of his fingerboard. Sans the militant zeal of Smart, the bassist finally has space to move. Lyons' own extemporization sounds somewhat tentative. Malik makes up the difference again with a lattice of poignant brassy lines. Their colloquy later in the piece comes across as more cohesive and Lyons seems more at ease. 'Mr 1-2-5 Street', another up-tempo piece with an accelerated angular theme, quickly diverts into individual solos by the horns. Burnett and Smart propel the piece at a rapid-fire pace, goading Malik toward some truly ferocious blowing.

A second version of 'Jump Up' covers nearly twice the ground of its predecessor. Lyons sounds more focused, riding out the rushing swells of Smart's drums with florid swathes of notes. Even so, Malik and the drummer end up the true lodestones of the piece, the former through an extended solo and the latter in a closing statement that shows off strong polyrhythmic propensity not as present in his earlier work. Compared to the original compositions, the clipped reading of 'Round Midnight' that closes the concert seems more like set filler, but it's still enjoyable to hear the quartet tackle such a shop-worn jazz standard.

Disc Two turns the calendar pages forward nearly three years to another Rivbea gig circa summer 1975. Burnett still holds down the bass chair, but the drum stool is now home to one Henry Letcher. Two sprawling pieces, 'Family' and 'Heritage', comprise the set. Each is monolithic in size, but far from monosyllabic in scope. Communal connotations inherent to each track title are borne out in prolonged improvisations that make full use of the trio's collective powers. Lyons sounds challenged by the dearth of a second horn foil and the set's notes do make mention of the ways in which his compositions were commonly more suited to multiple frontline voices. He adapts well to the leaner configuration and ends up showing off facets of his on-the-fly ingenuity that stand up beautifully under scrutiny.

'Family' takes up over 40 minutes and expands from a sirocco of flurried alto scribbles. Burnett and Letcher stoke a vertical momentum, framing Lyons' fleetly-quoting lines with a flexible array of rhythmic accents and commentary. The bassist is again slightly compromised by the recording mix, particularly during his arco passages, which lose some of their harmonic lucidity in proximity to Letcher's more tumultuous traps play. Lyons own extended sortie rivals late-period Coltrane in terms of loquacity. It's 25 glorious minutes before he takes the reed out of his mouth and defers to his partners. Burnett's successive long-form exploration of his strings makes versatile use of pitch variations, high resonating harmonics and percussive repetition. Letcher chooses an equally variable tack, moving from quietly textured frugality through incremental increases in density and velocity.

'Heritage' occupies only slightly less time than its predecessor and sacrifices nothing in terms of skillful execution. After a terse prefatory exchange between Burnett and Letcher, Lyons arrives with a series of piquant melodic elaborations, playing fast and furious from the outset. Hitting stride early, he hunkers down for the long haul and jockeys through squealing note streams with impressive speed and alacrity. His partners show similar dedication and the mileage of the piece scrolls by with several solo and ensemble detours along the way. The sum is at once unrelenting and exhilarating as all three men barely pause for breath and maintain a stamina-taxing level of intensity for the majority of the piece. Bass and drum solos eventually give way to Lyons in a more reflective mood, revisiting the melody of 'Jump Up'. Periodic tape dropouts mar the action, but the marathon run stands as a memorable achievement in spite of these minor blemishes.

The second Rivbea set concludes on Disc Three with a more concise reading of 'Heritage', less ambitious than its predecessor, but still brimming with bracketed energy to spare Most of disc's running time is devoted to a solo Lyons performance taped at Soundscape in April of 1981. The solitary setting brings both his melodic acuity and the wide repository of patterned phrases that constituted his vocabulary into bold relief. Breaks based on shifts in thematic content divide up the concert into individual tracks, but Lyons quotes freely over the expanse of the entire recital. Digested in a single sitting the concert can feel like a daunting prospect. But the chance to hear Lyons' alto alone and at length on record, something heretofore not possible, is something to savor just the same.

'Clutter' reels out as a chain of melodic links that incorporate kernels of Lyons' own compositions along with paraphrases of standards like 'It Might As Well Be Spring' and Monk's 'Bemsha Swing'. His tone is clear and confident and while the improvisations have an air of the academic about them, the sincerity audible in Lyons' spontaneous inventions delivers a staggering emotive punch. 'Mary Mary', a line written for pianist/composer Mary Lou Williams, references cells from other pieces in Lyons' repertoire. The next two tracks, 'Never' and 'Configuration C', sound more like sketches and each transpires in quick succession. The lengthier 'Repertoire Riffin'' engulfs nearly a quarter of an hour in its methodical dissection of a clutch of component riffs. 'Impro Scream' finds the altoist trying on a variety of tonal hats through a quick bout of aggressive blowing that unleashes an uncharacteristic gush of multiphonics for added effect.

Disc Four presents Lyons in the company of bassoonist Karen Borca and drummer Paul Murphy, colleagues who would follow him to the end of his career. Both were regulars on his final albums and each is fine form on the set taped at a concert in Geneva, Switzerland in May of 1984. Borca was also Lyons' life partner and a principal source of support during the various tribulations the altoist would endure in attempting to actualize his musical goals. Her presence as second horn effectively counterweighs the absence of bass as formal harmonic anchor. For his part, Murphy demonstrates an Olympian brawn behind the drum kit, fueling each of the pieces with tumbling press rolls and driving beats. The trio's songbook borrows in part from Lyons' contemporaneous Black Saint records with a playful take on 'Wee Sneezawee', kicking the concert off at a rapid clip.

Lyons gallops out of the gate in a swiftly darting succession of lines. Borca's heavier double reed answers by navigating the lower registers in coarsely wound legato braids. Adopting the weight and girth of a baritone saxophone, her horn retains the enviable agility of an alto in an instantly engaging display of skill. Murphy belts his skins with blurred sticks, conjuring up a rhythmic core around which the horns twine in tightly angling arcs. His short solo near the opening track's close gives but a small indication of the amount of energy he has bridled within his tautly-flexed sinews. For the pathos-rich ballad 'After You Left', the trio trades wanton energy for slowly developing counterpoint and call-and-response. Murphy responds in kind, moving to brushes and engaging in sympathetic conversation with each of the horns individually and in tandem.

The bebop inflected 'Theme' works off more close interplay between Lyons and Borca. The saxophonist is at his most lubricious, firing off ideas at speeds that require Murphy to keep up on the demanding rhythmic front. Keep pace he does, while once again showing himself as more than up to the task of propelling the trio in both metric and free contexts. 'Shakin Back' resituates the trio back in humor-ripe surroundings. The horns shimmy and shake through a simple swinging theme while Murphy whittles out a syncopated string of beats behind them. Borca's contradictory 'Good News Blues' closes the concert on an upbeat note and finds the composer blowing the hell out of her bassoon. There's even the intrusion of what sounds like festival security walkie-talkie banter on the monitors during Murphy's closing solo. A short radio interview segment taped at WKCR-FM in the summer of 1978 rounds out the remainder of the disc. It's an all too brief exchange, but a fascinating listen just the same. Lyons touches on his early musical education, his initial years with Cecil and the synonymous nature of composition and improvisation.

The set's final disc documents the trio on disc four with the added muscle of William Parker's bass. Recorded at a Tufts University gig in February of 1985, the music finds the band running through familiar tunes along with a few new ones. Curiously enough, the fidelity here is the least accommodating of the set, surprising since the recording is of the most recent vintage. Fortunately any audio foibles wither under the might of the music and the quartet succeeds in giving the students, faculty and general audience quite a show. Curiously enough, the first two tunes in the set list are the same as the Geneva gig from nearly a year earlier, even clocking in at close to analogous times.

Parker contributes a welcome bottom end to the band and his amplified pizzicato figures mesh athletically with Murphy's fields of cymbal and snare electricity. Lyons' usual quicksilver lines are a bit recessed in the mix and there are times when he has to vie with the rhythm section's vociferousness to be heard. But the raw fidelity is a small price for the concentrated energy on hand. Borca is less compromised by the slightly stilted sound. Her snaking, stoutly planted phrases slide and shout atop the clamorous backgrounds built up by Murphy and Parker and once again she makes her double reed speak in demanding tongues.

Alongside tried and true numbers like 'Shakin' Back' and 'Gossip', the latter an incomplete take; the quartet also tries out a pair of new compositions. 'Tortuga' takes shape in a customary theme-solos progression, opening with a gorgeous echo-laden a capella by Lyons and Borca. 'Driads' is more intricate in design and undertaking. Parker wields his frenzied bow along with tugging fingers and his anchoring harmonic structures serve as orbital center for the spiraling circular forays of the horns. Murphy crafts a near continuous wash of metallic static that further augments the tension and Lyons sounds at his most ebullient in a soaring solo that attains supersensory heights. Collected in sum, this date delivers one of the most consistently galvanizing highlights of the entire box.

Lyons succumbed to lung cancer in May of 1986, a sad fate echoing that of the recently deceased Frank Lowe. In light of his extremely finite discography, the manna of the set is obviously the music, all of it previously unreleased. But the package and accoutrements are also worthy of praise. An accompanying 60-page booklet, littered with archival photos, includes in-depth essays on Lyons career and music by Ben Young and Ed Hazell. The box itself is a model of economical and esthetic beauty with the five discs housed in lightweight cardboard sleeves. There's also added value in that each disc is crammed nearly to capacity with music. Jan Str'm and his partners at Ayler Records have come up with a celebratory set worthy of Lyons' memory and legacy. Limited to a modest pressing of 500 copies, it's sure to sell out fast.

Rare music from overlooked alto saxophonist Jimmy Lyons is back in print


by  

May 20, 2016

Chicago Reader

cvsdcd022.jpg
Last month New York's Whitney Museum of American Art celebrated brilliant and singular pianist Cecil Taylor with a series of performances, film and video screenings, listening sessions, and poetry readings, plus an exhibition of "archival videos, audio, notational scores, photographs, poetry, and other ephemera," all under the name Open Plan: Cecil Taylor. The whole thing was bookended by rare performances from Taylor himself. The pianist has worked with loads of fantastic musician throughout his long career—many of whom participated in the exhibition, including bassist William Parker, drummers Tony Oxley and Andrew Cyrille, and cellist Tristan Honsinger—but few players have inhabited Taylor's aesthetic and work with the devotion, clarity, and commitment of Jimmy Lyons, a powerful alto saxophonist who performed with Taylor between 1961 and his own death in 1986. In some ways he was to Taylor what John Gilmore was to Sun Ra—a brilliant improviser whose dedication to the vision of a charismatic composer and bandleader trumped his own solo career.

Lyons did perform and make recordings under his own name, but they always felt secondary to his work with Taylor. Those Lyons albums are in no way minor, though—they're dynamic accomplishments fueled by a rhythmic dexterity rooted in bebop but liberated from that style's harmonic demands. Time hasn't been kind to Lyons's catalog: most of his recordings are out of print and hard to find, which makes last month's reissue of the 1979 triple album Push Pull by the local Corbett vs. Dempsey imprint all the more valuable. The music—now on a pair of CDs—captures an epic 1978 performance in New York featuring the saxophonist's sublimely talented wife (and long-term collaborator) Karen Borca on bassoon, Hayes Burnett on bass, Munner Bernard Fennell on cello, and Roger Blank on drums.

Lyons had a sharp, spry tone, but what set him apart was his ability to channel the rhythmic innovations of Charlie Parker within Taylor's distinctive, architectural musical system—he injected a continuity from traditional jazz into a radical setting, and he understood the pianist's music like no one else, riding its furious waves of energy and motion like they were custom-made for him. On his own, Lyons was able to take more space for his improvisations, allowing his lines to glisten free of Taylor's thick harmonic swells. Push Pull, which has never previously been released on CD and has long been out of print on vinyl too, captures Lyons at his best, displaying his bobbing-and-weaving flow with deft support from a highly empathetic, agile band. Below you can check out the title track of the set, which is packaged in a gatefold jacket designed by Sonnenzimmer that retains the gorgeous original artwork by Klaus Baumgärtner.




Cecil Taylor, The Great Concert of Cecil Taylor: Full Album


Calling It the 9th




Jimmy Lyons




Cecil Taylor Quartet with:
Cecil Taylor, piano
Jimmy Lyons, alto saxophone
Alan Silva, bass
Andrew Cyrille, drums


Paris November 1966.


Jimmy Lyons on Ayler Records: "Jimmy Lyons - The Box Set", aylCD-036 - 040.






Cecil Taylor - Dark to Themselves






Jimmy Lyons Quintet - Give It Up. Black Saint, 1985