The Jazz Detective Zev Feldman has unearthed another gem as Blue Note Records issues the sleuth’s latest discovery, the emergence of the iconic drummer, Elvin Jones, as bandleader on Revival: Live at Pookie’s Pub. The scene is sadly strikingly symbolic as this was a period of time when rock was all the rage and jazz was dying. We find the legendary drummer leading a quartet in a little-known bar, in an obscure part of Manhattan, which had a capacity of only fifty and often had less than ten patrons a night to witness these sessions (July 28-30, 1967) that took place over a seven-month residency. Historian and Coltrane expert Ashley Kahn gives a vivid history in the booklet. This recording was made just ten days after the passing of John Coltrane, with whom Jones was a pivotal member of the Classic Quartet for six years. He had left Trane a year earlier as Trane was moving into serious avant-garde and Indian music. Jones was trying to establish himself as a bandleader and the Pookie’s gig, paying all of $150 per week at least constituted a paycheck and the opportunity to gain experience in the bandleader role.
Comprising the quartet was the underrated tenor saxophonist Joe Farrell, who was unenviably in the role of Coltrane but shines brilliantly, and the lesser known but sturdy pianist Billy Greene and bassist Wilbur Little. Larry Young, the formidable organist of Blue Note and fusion fame, plays piano on “Gingerbread Boy.” Needless to say, true to his reputation, Jones, referred to as the “God of Thunder” by Santana drummer Michael Shrieve in the accompanying booklet, upholds that moniker to a tee. The double CD/3LP set was produced by David Weiss, bandleader of The Cookers and the extensive booklet included interviews and memories from drummers Alvin Queen and Shrieve, pianist Richie Bierach, and Jones alumni saxophonists Pat LaBarbera and David Liebman, as well as bassist Gene Perla.
The set consists of extended originals from band members and standards, beginning with the drummer’s present to his wife, the twenty-minute plus “Keiko’s Birthday March,” featuring volcanic solos from Farrell and Jones. Interestingly, pianist Greene begins his solo by quoting the theme from A Love Supreme. Jimmy Heath’s “Gingerbread Boy,” gets an edgy, ‘out there’ treatment. Farrell contributed the namesake of his residence at the time, “13 Avenue B,” another aggressive, freewheeling tenor showcase, which can be applied to Sonny Rollins’ “Oleo,” and “M.E” as well. Jones shows his penchant for Latin rhythms and Farrell delivers the strongest melody of the set for “On the Trail.” Of the nine selections, six extend beyond fifteen minutes with Farrell turning to flute for “My Funny Valentine” and “Softly as in A Morning Sunrise,” a much tamer version here than those laid down by Jones and Coltrane, especially 1962’s Live at the Village Vanguard. Also included here is “Raunchy Rita,” one often done in Pookie’s residency and included on Jones’ 1968 studio release Heavy Sounds (Impulse!) with tenorist Frank Foster, pianist Greene and bassist Richard Davis. Both “Keiko’s Birthday March” and “Gingerbread Boy” appear on the 1968 Blue Note release Puttin’ It Together with the noteworthy Elvin Jones Trio that included Farrell and former bandmate, Jimmy Garrison on bass.
Farrell, who passed far too soon in 1986, was a beloved colleague of Jones, and recorded six albums with the drummer, mostly on Blue Note, is likely better known as an original member of Chick Corea’s Return to Forever and for his remarkable albums on the CTI label – most notably Joe Farrell Quartet (1970), Outback (1972), and Moon Germs (1973). He was also a member of the horn section for The Band’s live album Rock of Ages, among his several forays into rock and pop.
As with all of Feldman’s archival releases, the accompanying booklet yields bountiful treasures. Here are some excerpts, beginning with Jones’ explanation of his technique – “Take a solo. When I start, I keep the structure and melody and content of the tune in my mind and work up abstractions or obligatos on it. I count the choruses as I go along, and sometimes I’m able to decide in advance what the patten of a whole chorus will be, but more often five or six patterns will flash simultaneously across my mind, …I can see forms and shapes in my mind when I solo, …my cymbals will be one color and my snare another color and my tom-toms each a different color. I mix these colors up, making constant movement. Drums suggest movement… My drumming can shade from a whisper to a thunder…”
