VICTOR BAILEY electric bass Although it has been ten years between albums (his Bottom's Up on Atlantic came out 1990), the timing of Bailey's Lowblow is right on the money. "In the last 20 years, by the time that my generation of guys was mature enough to become artists, everything became so different," he says. "Straight ahead became the sound of 30 or 40 years ago. And electric music became smooth jazz. I think a lot of us reached a point where we got fed up. I hadn't made a record in ten years because every label wanted the radio thing. It took me that long time to run into a label guy (ESC Record's Joachim Becker) who would let me just play my bass and record the music I wanted to record." In tandem with a pair of unparalleled drummers in Omar Hakim and Dennis Chambers, Bailey grooves with authority on tunes like "Sweet Tooth", "Knee-Jerk Reaction" and the exceedingly funky Larry Graham tribute "Graham Cracker". Special guests Bill Evans and Kenny Garrett contribute their own virtuosity on soprano sax while stellar support is also given by Wayne Krantz on guitar, Jim Beard, Michael Bearden and Henry Hey on keyboards. The burning samba flavored "Brain Teaser" is a stunning showcase of Victor's single note prowess while the lovely, melancholy ballad "She Left Me" features some of his most lyrical playing on the record. He affects a warm, rounded upright bass tone on the piano trio ballad "Babytalk", which features Jim Beard on the Wurlitzer piano and Dennis Chambers flaunting some supple brushwork. The title track highlights Victor's vocal scatting in union with his tight, staccato basslines and "Feels Like a Hug" is a melodic vehicle underscored by cleanly picked arpeggios and synth bass while also featuring some two handed tapping excursions on Victor's solo. "I wrote those lyrics about a week after Jaco died," says Victor. "I can't even say that I wrote it... it just came through me. I wrote the lyrics exactly as they are in about ten minutes. I didn't change a word from that first writing. They just kind of flowed out and it just happened. Of course, I knew the whole thing intimately because I spent half of my childhood practicing it. Every day after school I had my routine of things that I would do. And one was to play 'Continuum'. I mean, I layed that song every day. To this day I can put that record on every day and listen to it. So I really knew the solo well and it seemed like the words already there. It was one truly inspired moment. It just happened and I'm very proud of it." A native Philadelphian and current resident of Los Angeles, Bailey is a link in that long lineage of Philly bass that has produced such extraordinary players as Jymie Merritt, Tyrone Browne, Alphonso Johnson, Stanley Clarke, Jaco Pastorious, Jamaaladeen Tacuma, Charles Fambrough, Gerald Veasley and Christian McBride. And yet, he maintains that his mission on Lowblow went beyond that deep bass tradition. "The main thing that I'm trying to show as a recording artist is that I'm not a bass player," he maintains. "I don't play the bass, I play music. It just so happens that the instrument that I specialize in is the bass. In this post-Jaco and Stanley Clarke era, there've been a lot of records with a lot of phenomenal bass playing on them but not as much phenomenal bass music... things like Jaco's 'Teen Town' and 'Baha Mama' or Stanley's 'Schoold Days', which hold up as great pieces of music in spite of the fact that they were done on the bass. And on this recording I really wanted to show the music that I have inside of me and show that I'm more than a bass player but also a writer, arranger and composer." Growing up in a musical household (his father Morris Bailey was a respected saxophonist and writer-arranger for many of the acts on Philadelphia Sound Records), Victor was exposed at an early age to a constant flow of great Philly musicians. "I can't say that I really had any mentors, per se, but I'd come home from school and my father would be there rehearsing with guys like Tyrone Browne. So naturally hearing somebody like that when you're 16 and you'd been playing for only a year... it was inspiring to me. After Tyrone would leave I'd want to stay up and practice until midnight... like six hours straight. So he was a big influence on me though I wouldn't say mentor." While still a teenager, Victor honed his chops on local gigs with the likes of organist Shirley Scott and jazz drumming great Mickey Rocker. "Philly is a great place to get your musicality together," he maintains. "The standard of playing is so high and there is so much competition. But it's a great education. If you're 16 and you think you can play and you wanna go to a jam session, you gotta get up and play with the older cats who run all of the club scene. So you have to learn how to play tunes and you have to learn how to play changes. You never step on the stage in Philly unless you really got it together." Larry Graham was a particular bass hero of his in those formative years. "I was a Larry Graham nut before I ever played bass," says Victor. "I played drums when Graham Central Station first came out. I went to see him at the Capitol Center in D.C. and just to sound of the bass alone... it was the first time I had ever heard anybody slapping, and just the sound of the bass was in my head for weeks. I knew he was hitting the bass in some kind of way but my seat was so far back, I really couldn't see what he was doing. But the tone of the bass being slapped and humped was just so phenomenal to me." "And like most guys of my age who are known as jazz guys, I grew up playing in a funk band, covering tunes by Larry Graham, Kool & The Gang, Earth, Wind & Fire, Bootsy Collins. I kind of always played it in a real jazzy style and over time it sort of just became what it became." After a stint at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, Bailey migrated to the New York scene. It was on his first recording date in town, guitarist Bobby Brown'sClean Sweep (GRP), that he met drummer Omar Hakim. They also did two gigs with singer Miriam Makeba before joining Weather Report in 1982. "As far as chemistry, it was immediate," says Victor. "It's that thing that every drummer and bass player dream of. You have certain guys that you just hook up with, and with Omar I never have to think about where the time is, where the groove is, where the feel is. We just play and it's like instant communication. I think we have a good combination of the virtuosity and the education and the heart and the soul and the groove and all that, in equal proportions to each other. I think our styles fit each other because we're both funky but we're not really funk guys, and we're jazz but we're not really jazzy guys. When we get called for something and we know that the other guy is on the gig, we instantly know that it's going to be happening, it's going to be grooving and there's going to be a lot of energy. If it's an improvising situation it's going to be a lot of fun improvising. It it's a groove thing like Madonna was, it's going to be a GROOVE thing... capital letters, please." The Madonna gig came after her 1982 appearance on "Saturday Night Live". As Victor explains, "They were just putting a rhythm section together for her appearance on the show and she knew who we were and asked the musical director to see if he could get us. So we did that show and she really enjoyed it and she said at the time 'Whenever I do a tour, I'm gonna use you guys.' And we were surprised at how hip she was. I mean, like, at the end of a songs at rehearsal we'd play certain things and she'd turn around and say 'Don't play that Weather Report shit at the end of any tune'. And we both said to her, 'You know about that?' And she sure did." Considering his deep-seated love of groove, Bailey was fulfilled in the pop setting of Madonna's music as he was in the jazzier realms of Joe Zawinul's world beat fusion music. "That is something that I've always been fighting, that notion that I'm a jazz guy," he says. "Fortunately, I've been able to transcend some of the boundaries. I mean, I'm just as happy laying it down with Madonna, and in her band I'm playing with the same heart and the same passion that I play with Joe." While he remains the bass anchor in the Zawinul Syndicate, Victor also eargely awaits the opportunity to spread the bass gospel on tour with his own band."There's a whole new generation of kids out here who have never seen Jaco or Stanley Clarke. That's like my slot now, that's my audience right there. There's a whole new audience that I can turn on to that genre, that thing. It's like I'm carrying the torch. For real. I'm at the age where I'm one of the torchbearers." Victor carries the torch in fine fashion on Lowblow (Bill Milkowski) SELECTED DISCOGRAPHY Solo Album Bottom's Up - Atlantic With Weather Report Procession - CBS Domino Theory - CBS Sportin' Life - CBS This is This - CBS With Steps Ahead Magnetic - Electra Musician NYC - NYC Records With Bill Evans Escape - ESC Records Touch - ESC Records With Joe Zawinul & The Zawinul Syndicate World Tour - ESC Records With Michael Brecker Now You See It, Now You Don't - GRP With Lenny White Present Tense - Hip Bop Records
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Easily the most inspired track on Lowblow is Bailey's vocal treatment of the Jaco Pastorious signature piece "Continuum". Having memorized the song and the solo note for note when he was still a teenager, Victor would later put heartfelt words to the tune in memory of the late, great bassist who was such a towering influence on so many players.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
VICTOR BAILEY
Thursday, March 12, 2009
STEVE SWALLOW
Birth name Steve Swallow
Born October 4, 1940 (age 68)
Origin Fair Lawn, New Jersey, U.S.
Genre(s) Jazz
Occupation(s) Double bassist, Electric bassist
Instrument(s) Double bass, Electric Bass
Associated acts Jimmy Giuffre, Art Farmer, Carla Bley, John Scofield,
Steve Swallow (born October 4, 1940) is a jazz bass guitarist and composer born in Fair Lawn, New Jersey.
As a child, Swallow studied piano and trumpet before turning to the double bass at age 14. While attending a prep school, he began trying his hand in jazz improvisation. In 1960 he left Yale, where he was studying composition, and settled in New York City, playing at the time in Jimmy Giuffre's trio along with Paul Bley. Since joining Art Farmer's quartet in 1964, Swallow began to write. It is in the 1960s that his long-term association with Gary Burton's various bands began.
In 1974-76 Swallow taught at the Berklee College of Music. It is often speculated that he had an influence on the contents of The Real Book, which includes a fair number of his early compositions. He later recorded an album of the same name, with the picture of a well-worn, coffee-stained Real Book on the cover.
Swallow had consistently won the electric bass category in Down Beat yearly polls, both Critics' and Readers', since the mid-80s. His compositions have been covered by, among others, Jim Hall (who recorded his very first tune, "Eiderdown"), Bill Evans, Chick Corea, Stan Getz and Gary Burton.
"I believe it's written somewhere: 'Steve Swallow has to sit uneasily at the piano for ten hours before receiving his next idea,' so I sit there as patiently as possible. Eventually, an idea always comes..."
"Occasionally, when I run into a great bass backstage at a festival I'll play a few notes on the low E string, just to feel the instrument vibrate against my belly."
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During his years at Yale University he studied composition with Donald Martino and played dixieland with many of the greats, including Pee Wee Russell, Buck Clayton and Vic Dickenson. In 1960 he met Paul and Carla Bley, left Yale in a hurry, moved to New York City, and began to play with Paul Bley, The Jimmy Giuffre Trio and George Russell’s sextet, which featured Eric Dolphy and Thad Jones. He also performed in the early '60s with Joao Gilberto, Sheila Jordan, and bands led by Benny Goodman, Marian McPartland, Chico Hamilton, Al Cohn and Zoot Sims, Clark Terry and Bob Brookmeyer and Chick Corea.
In 1964 he joined The Art Farmer Quartet featuring Jim Hall, and began writing music. Many of his songs have been recorded by prominent jazz artists, including Bill Evans, Chick Corea, Stan Getz, Gary Burton, Art Farmer, Phil Woods, Jack DeJohnette, Steve Kuhn and Lyle Mays. And he was recently sampled by a Tribe Called Quest.
In 1970 he switched from acoustic to electric bass and moved to Bolinas, California where he wrote music for Hotel Hello, a duet album for ECM with Gary Burton. Returning to the East Coast in 1974, he taught for two long years at the Berklee College of Music. In 1976 he was awarded a National Endowment For The Arts grant to set poems by Robert Creeley to music, which resulted in another ECM album, Home. He performed with such diverse soloists as Dizzy Gillespie, Michael Brecker, George Benson and Herbie Hancock, and recorded with Stan Getz (on an album featuring Joao Gilberto), Bob Moses, Steve Lacy, Michael Mantler and Kip Hanrahan. He also played on recordings produced by Hal Willner, on tracks featuring, among others, Carla Bley, Dr. John and James Taylor.
He toured and recorded ofter with John Scofield from 1980 to 1984, first in trio with drummer Adam Nussbaum and then in duet. He has since toured occasionally with Scofield, and has also produced many of his recordings.
Since 1988 he and Carla Bley have performed duet concerts in Europe, the United States, South America and Japan. Duets, an album of their songs arranged for piano and bass, was released in 1988, and a second recording, Go Together, in 1993.
In 1991 he composed and produced Swallow, a recording featuring his five-string bass and several of his long-time associates, including Gary Burton, John Scofield and Steve Kuhn.
He recorded often in 1993. John Scofield and Pat Metheny’s I Can See Your House From Here, on which he played with drummer Bill Stewart, was released on Blue Note Records; this quartet toured in the summer of 1994. Real Book, his third XtraWATT disc, was recorded in December of 1993 and released in 1994; its cast included Tom Harrell, Joe Lovano, Mulgrew Miller and Jack DeJohnette.
In Spring of 1994 he was featured at the London Jazz Festival in a concert of his compositions with lyrics written and sung by Norma Winstone. 1994 also contained concert appearances in Japan with Steve Kuhn and in Europe with The Very Big Carla Bley Band, Jimmy Giuffre and Paul Bley, The Paul Motian Electric BeBop Band, Niels-Henning Orsted Pedersen, Carla Bley and Andy Sheppard. A live recording of this trio, Songs With Legs, was released on WATT in early 1995, at which time they again toured Europe. He also recorded in Spring 1995 with Steve Kuhn, Michael Franks, John Taylor, Pierre Favre and Julian Arguelles. In July he and Carla Bley performed duets in Brazil, and in the fall returned to Europe for a lengthy tour.
In November of '96 he introduced the Steve Swallow Quintet, which includes Chris Potter, Ryan Kysor, Mick Goodrick and Adam Nussbaum, to audiences in Europe, and recorded with this group after its tour. The resulting album, Deconstructed, features his compositions based on classic Tin Pan Alley song structures; it was released in early 1997. He intends to tour further with this band, and has hopes that he will thus achieve belated fame and fortune.
In the Spring of 1998 he toured and recorded with Lee Konitz and Paul Motian, and toured with Brazilian guitairst Paulo Bellinati. He also participated with Carla Bley in the Copenhagen Jazzvisits program, and was nominated for the 1999 Danish Jazzpar. In April he directed and performed his music for big band with the Harvard University Jazz Band, and in June recorded with pianist Christian Jacob. In July he participated in a tour, presenting the concert version of Carla Bley's Escalator Over the Hill. He expects to play in the Fall with Paul Motian's Electric Bebop Band, in duo with Carla Bley, and with John Scofield and Bill Stewart.
September 1998
Source: http://www.ejn.it/mus/swallow.htm
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A Fireside Chat With Steve Swallow
I think I can count all the hip electric bassists playing improvised music on one hand. And I can count the most interesting electric bassist in my time on one finger. He is Steve Swallow. Say what you will about the electric bass, but no one can deny the artistry of Swallow when he starts firing away on an electric bass. It is no wonder he has been winning poll after poll for the past umpteen years. I sat down with Swallow to talk about his new release with Carla Bley, his impressions of Eric Dolphy, and his time at Yale, as always, brought to you, unedited and in his own words.
FRED JUNG: Let's start from the beginning.
FJ Did you manage to learn some hot licks?
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, I memorized all fifty of them. I was like a serial improviser. I figured that that is how it was done. I memorized these fifty licks and I just strung them together in a different order every time I took a solo. I took exactly the same solo. But all my solos were composed of these licks.
STEVE SWALLOW: No (laughing), everybody thought I was really hot and so did I. Actually, not too long after I had done that, a bunch of us started playing together. I was at this point in junior high school and after marching band practice, a bunch of us would hang out in the band room and try to figure out how to play jazz. Nobody played the bass, but there was a bass in the room, so at one point we decided that everyone had to play one tune on the bass and that way we will just keep rotating and nobody will get too hurt too seriously and we will have a bass in the band. The very first time I put my hands on the thing, I knew I was in deep trouble and I refused to pass it on to the next guy and went home on my bike with bloody figures, but the dye was cast and I knew it right away. It was one of those fateful moments where you are very sure of something.
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, I did. I'm not proud of it, but I did.
STEVE SWALLOW: To play. There is a nice story there too. It dovetails nicely with you having talked to Carla because what happened was that I was midway through my second year and I wasn't even a music major. I was majoring in Latin literature, but I was taking a lot of music courses and spending an increasing amount of time away from school. It was the early Sixties, late Fifties and there was a really healthy ghetto music scene. The black community was just full of clubs with live music and a lot of really good players who had come up from New York, usually for personal reasons, usually because they had to get away from New York to preserve their health and their sanity. There are some really excellent older guys who were very generous to me and were teaching me a lot about music. At any rate, I got a call from a friend who said a guy named Paul Bley needed a bass player, a cheap bass player for a concert he was doing and that I should do it. My friend was a guy named Ian Underwood, who became a Mother of Invention after that and we were close and played together almost every day. Ian had been exposed to Paul and said, "OK, this guy needs a bass player and you should really do this. You're going to be amazed." I said, "OK, I will do it," and went to Bard College, a small college up the Hudson River, to play this job blind. I had no idea what Paul Bley played like. I went to the record store in New Haven and there was no evidence that he existed there. I met Carla and Carla was married to Paul at that time, so I showed up expecting to rehearse and Paul said, "No, we won't need to rehearse." I said, "Well, what are we going to do?" And he said, "You'll see." He was his usual kind of elliptical self and I had no idea what was going to happen when we hit the bandstand to play this concert. It was one of those nights again where everything was very vivid and clear and nothing seemed to go wrong. Whatever note I seemed to play was the right one. I was playing in an idiom that I had never played in before. I was playing bebop in the bars of New Haven and playing in college Dixieland bands for profit as well, but I had no exposure to whatever you want to call it, post-Ornette music, I guess. It was a revelation to me. I went home, back to my dorm at Yale and got violently ill. I had an incredibly high fever for three or four days and stayed in bed and when the fever broke, I got out of bed and marched over to the registrar's office and quit and went to New York and presented myself at Paul and Carla's doorstep and said, "OK, I am here."
STEVE SWALLOW: With open arms. Luckily, they remembered me and it had been a good night, so Paul was not unhappy to see me. I kind of apprenticed myself to Paul and also to Carla. I had never seen a real composer before either. So I just kind of dove in right at that point and never looked back. I think at that point, this would have been 1960, I think at that point, that's what you did if you wanted to be a jazz musician. You just packed up and went to New York. There wasn't the spectrum of options that exist today.
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, I think it was not a bad thing and it was a wonderful time to be in New York. The scene was just exploding and music was everywhere and my first loft, which was on 6th Avenue, cost forty dollars a month and there were endless five dollar jobs. For five dollars and a meal, you could play coffee houses on Bleeker Street. This was prior to the folk and rock and roll incursion into the New York coffee house and club scene and so there were endless five dollar jazz gigs and all you had to do was work eight of those and your month's rent was covered and so it was not a difficult time. It was a perfect environment in which to develop as a player. I had a perfect teacher in Paul and endless subsequent people that I hooked up with during those years in New York. It couldn't have been better.
STEVE SWALLOW: He was wonderful. It was interesting in that Eric was a young player when I worked with him. He never got to be an old player, but George's band was extremely young. Most of us were in our very early twenties. I was twenty-one. So Eric was kind of the elder in the band at twenty-nine or thirty and kind of assumed that role as well. We definitely saw him as the guy with experience and the guy who had found the mature voice of his own already. So we were ready to receive whatever he had to offer us. He was very gracious and very generous. He was very unassuming, but on the other hand, he spoke when he saw the chance to affect the music positively. George wrote the music and he played the piano, but he was seemingly disinterested in a lot of the nuts and bolts aspects of getting it played, the phrasing and the articulation, and so Eric jumped into that role. I think we also kind of pushed him toward it. After Eric left the band, Thad Jones came into the band and assumed that role. That was also an education and a half because he was already a brilliant rehearser. I remained in awe of Eric, even as I got to know him and saw him as a friend. I was still amazed at the flow he had in his playing. It really was, as much as anybody that I had played with at that time, the metaphor of just kind of turning the faucet on applied to him. It seemed to flow without any impediments. It was astonishing.
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, exactly, I did. I had written stuff in school, but only as exercises. I had never written a tune that I was willing to stand behind. The actual first tune I wrote was one that's kind of endured and been played a fair amount called "Eiderdown." I lucked out on my first tune. I took it to Art and he liked it and the band began playing it, so I started off with the illusion that this wasn't hard at all and that anybody could do this. It had taken several decades to disabuse me of that notion, but I am well disabused at this point. I wrote that tune on a dare. In those days, one had a roommate on the road. You didn't get your own room and Pete LaRoca was my roommate and we were very close and loved to stay up after the gig and talk till we dropped. I always talked a good game about theory and writing and all of that, but I wasn't producing anything at all and Pete noticed this and finally one night, called me on it and said, "Look, it is put up or shut up. I am daring you to write a tune." We were in a hotel in Berlin, Germany as a matter of fact, playing a three week gig. Those were the days, a three week gig at a club in Germany. So I took him up on the dare and said, "Yeah, OK, I will do it." During three or four afternoons, I went to the club and used the piano in the club and came up with the tune and presented it to Art. He liked it and we started playing it. So I kept at it.
STEVE SWALLOW: (Laughing) No, I think there might have been a dinner or something. I'm sure I called his bluff because I actually did write the damn tune.
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, it was another one of those. You seem to have a knack for putting your finger on those kind of crossroad moments, Fred, but it was definitely one of those. I resisted the electric bass on principle for years. I refused to touch one. I had the usual jazz musician's attitude toward electric instruments and rock and roll. I was working with Gary Burton. This would have been in late 1969 and we were doing a NAMM (National Association of Music Merchants) show. I guess it was an early NAMM show, all the instrument manufacturers and Gary was doing demonstrations and brought me along so he didn't have to play solo and so the two of us were playing, playing twenty minutes, taking an hour off, playing twenty minutes all day long in a giant exposition place in Chicago. Midway through the second day, I was bored to tears and I had done everything, but gone into the Fender booth and so I went over there during one of our breaks and I made sure that nobody saw me. I ditched Gary and kind of snuck over. It was really like going into a peepshow or something. I looked stealthfully around to make sure nobody saw me and then split very quickly into the Fender booth. I picked up a Fender bass and the same thing happened. My fingers sent an immediate message to my brain and saying that we liked this. We want to do this. My brain was appalled and said no, but the dye had been cast. I went to the Gibson booth and did the same thing and preferred the Gibson instrument and so I asked them if I could take it back to the hotel and they said, "Sure." I took it back to the hotel and took the instrument out of its case and played it for what I thought was about twenty minutes. I looked up and looked at the clock and a couple of hours had gone by. There was no turning back. It was a very base and physical attraction that I just couldn't deny. Luckily, Gary was very supportive of all of this and receptive to the idea of using it in the band. So I began just using it on one or two tunes a night and it just gradually grew to the point where I was using it on more tunes than I was using the acoustic bass and then I moved to California with my family for a variety of reasons, but among them, to really learn to play the electric bass. At that point, I felt that I couldn't play both the acoustic and electric any longer. There just weren't enough hours in the day. I was just constantly guilty as well, when I was playing one, I saw the other sitting in the corner looking forlorn and very conflicted and so eventually, I got rid of my acoustic bass and I haven't had one since and I haven't regretted doing that either.
STEVE SWALLOW: I think it is. You would think I would play it as if it were a bass, but I think one of the things that drew me to the instrument initially was physically, the guitar aspect of it. I loved manipulating that instrument. Initially, I played with my fingers, but fairly shortly, after I began playing the electric bass, I discovered the pick and discovered that I preferred that, that I liked the way I could articulate with the pick and I preferred the sound that I got. I was lucky to play with a succession of wonderful guitar players, starting with Jim Hall, but in the Burton band there was an endless string of them, starting with Larry Coryell and I was able to have a twenty-four hour question answering service available to me at any time and endless examples of how to manipulate the instruments. I empathized strongly with the guitaristic approach physically. On the other hand, I have also kind of insisted whenever anybody asks over the years, that it is a bass, that even though it doesn't look like an acoustic bass and sound like an acoustic bass, it is there to perform the same functions. The day before I first played the electric bass, I loved Paul Chambers and the day I first played the electric bass, I still loved Paul Chambers and nothing changed. I didn't take up the electric bass to effect a change in the idiom that I was playing. I had no desire to do that what so ever. I just wanted to bring the electric bass to the idiom that I always loved.
STEVE SWALLOW: No, I really don't, Fred. I'm so happy with the electric and learning the electric is still such a consuming and on going process that I can't imagine reaching the end of it or ever having time to divert from that course. One of the great things for me about the electric bass is that it has almost no history. There are very few people standing over your shoulder, watching you play. When I played the acoustic bass, I did feel very strongly, the presence of everybody looking over my shoulder. That history just doesn't exist with the electric bass. I have had the sense that I am plowing forward into a country that I have never been in before.
STEVE SWALLOW: I think it is. I found it liberating of necessity to devise my own style and my own tactics and to look for a voice on the instrument because there weren't really any that impacted strongly on me.
STEVE SWALLOW: Mick Goodrick and Adam Nussbaum were two old compatriots of mine. The trumpet chair changed from one record to the next. The first one was Ryan Kisor, but then he got a real job with the Lincoln Center big band. I love this band dearly. I have had a long association with Goodrick. We played together in Gary Burton's band and hung out together during my time in Boston. He still lives in Boston. I learned a lot from him. In a sense, you can hear us as one large instrument sometimes. I hear it myself and I am really thrilled by it. It is if our hands are being guided by the same brain. It is something I really value. Nussbaum and I have been together forever as well, starting with the Scofield Trio in the early Eighties. I have the classic bass player-drummer relationship with him. I can't live with him and I can't live without him. I love him dearly. We have a wonderful pugnacious relationship.
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, I am on a roll.
STEVE SWALLOW: No. I'm not displeased, but I proceed on as I am doing now if I weren't winning the Down Beat Poll. Nothing would change. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to be able to play what I want to play. I have gotten so used to doing that that I couldn't stop. I think in some ways, winning polls and that kind of stuff allows you that, affords you the great privilege of being able to play what you want to play. In that sense, I am very grateful indeed that all of that has happened. I have been doing this for so long now that I am totally unfit to do anything else. If all of that support were yanked out from under me, I would still march relentlessly on and continue doing what I am doing.
STEVE SWALLOW: Yeah, I am, Fred. I am indeed. I'm extremely lucky and I know it and I'm grateful.
Source: http://www.jazzweekly.com/interviews/swallow.htm
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Steve Swallow: Embracing Music and Greater Awareness
For 50 years, Steve Swallow has represented the pinnacle of jazz bass playing. First on acoustic, then exclusively on electric bass, the versatile Swallow approaches every musical situation with grace and understated virtuosity. His discography reads like a Who's Who of the important improvisers of the 20th and early 21st Century. Swallow continues to tour extensively around the world and record with Carla Bley, Gary Burton, John Scofield and many others. AAJ contributor Matthew Miller spoke with Swallow at his winter home in Camino, in the British Virgin Islands.
All About Jazz: Has the New York audience changed during your career?
Steve Swallow: Yeah, sure. When I began playing in the late '50s, there was a circuit of clubs in minority neighborhoods that sustained the music. You were playing for a community. That scene imploded in the late '60s and shifted to a primarily white, male audience and that hasn't really changed since then. That was a major shift.
AAJ: That shift corresponded with the emergence of jazz education. As someone who has taught in addition to gigging, touring and recording, can you give your impression of jazz education?
SS: I'm ambivalent about jazz education. One of my favorite lines on the subject comes from Paul Desmond, he said: "Jazz can be learned, but never taught." I've ended up being associated with jazz education because of my tenure at Berklee in the mid '70s, but aside from that, I've made it a point to restrict the amount of teaching I've done. After a few years at Berklee, I stopped because I had come to a crossroads. I had to choose between teaching and performing.
AAJ: Did you face a similar decision as a literature student at Yale in the late '50s when you left school to move to New York?
SS: Yes. In 1960, I left school because I had to play. I wanted to jump into the [New York] community of players, to search out my peers, to test myself against them. I had some reservations about leaving Yale, but I felt that I was faced with an either-or decision. I had to make an emphatic decision to embrace music.
When I came to New York, there was a community of older players and gifted peers. The university world wasn't the right environment to become a bass player. At this point, it might be a better choice for a young bassist to go to Berklee instead of NYC, but that wasn't the case then. That's not to say that New York hasn't remained the place to go. I think there's a wonderfully vibrant scene in NYC right now.
AAJ: You were a literature student as an undergrad and your recent release, So There, featured the poet Robert Creeley. How have literary influences or any non-musical interests, affected you musically?
SS: They've had a tremendously strong influence on me. Literature particularly, but also the visual arts and life around me. I've learned as much from Bob Creeley as any musical source. There's a great deal to be had from non-musical sources and my music has been greatly enhanced by them. I think there's a great danger in narrowing your sources too much. I've known remarkable bass players who have spent endless hours practicing, but they've paid a price: a lack of awareness of the world outside the bass. In the end, that limits their effectiveness as musicians.
AAJ: How has living with Carla Bley influenced you as a player and composer? How have you influenced her?
SS: We've had a profound influence on each other. It was inevitable. Our collaboration is a kind of complicated back and forth. I think I'm basically a player who writes and she is a writer who plays. I've told her more from a player's perspective and she's helped me from a composer's perspective and so we've been of most assistance to each other in that way.
We write on a daily schedule, seven days a week, in periods defined by beverage: coffee, tea, etc. It's a job. We never write together, but we do talk about it. Occasionally, one will say something that sets the other off in a promising direction. Eventually, we'll play it together and then it's back to the drawing board. You have to establish in your mind your value as a composer. Nobody calls on the phone to ask me for a piece of music, whereas when you're a player, the phone rings and you're asked to play. In terms of composing, it all comes down to self-motivation and discipline; Carla definitely has these qualities. She's shown me the discipline I lack and I've shown her things as a player.
AAJ: Her writing is so pure and personal. It seems that she's writing for herself, for the sake of the music, instead of writing for a particular player. Kind of like the antithesis of the Ellington model.
SS: She's usually writing for particular players, but the cast is changing. She's been writing music specifically for the The Lost Chords and most recently for trumpeter Paolo Fresu. In terms of Duke's music and Monk for that matter, I think it's there to be reinterpreted by subsequent generations. I think Monk's music is being played better now than in his lifetime. Young players are giving knowing and assured performances. Carla's music has a similar degree of difficulty and complexity. I strongly believe that the performances she's hoping for will happen after she's dead. Carla is constructing formidable challenges and standing apart from the community, for better or worse. She gives players what they need instead of what they want. She's done that with me.
AAJ: In terms of your playing, I've always been impressed with your sensitivity as an accompanist and the virtuosic understatement that underlies all your work. In your eyes, how has your playing evolved over the years?
SS: Um, I like to think it has evolved. I very seldom listen to my past recordings. I'm reluctant to listen to them. I'm afraid I'll find myself better in 1965 (laughs). I recently listened to a recording with Monk I did in the mid-'60s [at the Monterey Jazz Festival]. Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised; I felt I sounded good. I knew it was indeed me and I found that interesting. It leads me to believe that what you play is like your fingerprint. It's you.
A player should be reconciled to the fact that the elements of his playing are unchanged, like his voice. Of course, there are parts that can be rearranged and that's what I've tried to work with. Technique is the broad word for it, but I need to define it further. For me, it's the sound I'm getting. It's interpretation, how to phrase, how to make the music sing and breathe. It's been an ongoing process at a steady measured pace. Every now and then one has an "ah ha!" moment, but it certainly seems to be mostly a slow, consistent move forward for me. I wish I had had a greater sense of urgency when I was 20. It took me a lot of time to get focused and even more time to hit my stride; I was a late bloomer.
AAJ: You started out on piano and trumpet. What made you take up the bass?
AAJ: Ever pick up the upright for old-times sake?
SS: No. But every once in a while, if I see a beautiful one lying backstage at a festival, like Charlie Haden's bass, I'll pick it up and hit the E string, just to feel it vibrate against my body. It's one of the great feelings in life.
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Steve Swallow
Born: 4-Oct-1940
Birthplace: New York City
Gender: Male
Race or Ethnicity: White
Sexual orientation: Straight
Occupation: Jazz Musician
Nationality: United States
Executive summary: Prolific jazz bassist
Girlfriend: Carla Bley (musician)
The Carla Bley Band Bassist 1978-present
Condemned to spend his teen years in a New England private school, Steve Swallow made his first ventures into improvisational jazz with classmate (and future saxophonist for The Mothers of Invention) Ian Underwood. He went on to study composition at Yale until meeting Paul and Carla Bley in 1960, after which he moved to New York City and began a dizzying number of collaborations and group involvements with other musicians in the New york jazz scene.
In 1968, after two years with The Art Farmer Quartet, Swallow joined a quartet led by Gary Burton, beginning a musical relationship which was to continue up through Burton's 1992 release Six Pack. In 1970, he made a change from acoustic upright to electric bass guitar, as well as making a more temporary change from East to West Coast. A series of records for ECM, a period teaching at the Berklee College of Music, and his usual plentiful-like-grains-of-sand-on-the-beach musical collaborations continued through the 70s and 80s.
Initiating the second of his long-term band involvements, in 1978 Steve Swallow joined The Carla Bley Band. The pair have worked together ever since, touring throughout the 80s, 90s and 00s in contexts ranging from duo to big band and including everything in-between. Solo projects have continued throughout, in addition to work with Pat Metheny, Karen Mantler, and many others.
Source: http://www.nndb.com/people/485/000044353/
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Biography by Scott Yanow
Source: http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=11:jifrxqy5ldse~T1
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Selected discography (as leader or co-leader)
Duets (with Carla Bley)
Go Together (with Carla Bley)
Are We There Yet? (with Carla Bley)
Carla
Swallow
Real Book
Deconstructed
Always Pack Your Uniform On Top
Damaged in Transit
L'Histoire du Clochard (with Ohad Talmor)
What a wonderful world (guest on "R.I.P." LP : http://www.myspace.com/ripsound) , 2007.
Your Songs: The Music of Elton John (with Paul Motian, Gil Goldstein and Pietro Tonolo) on ObliqSound, 2007 Readmore...
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
CANNONBALL ADDERLEY
Download music!: Cannonball Adderley-Walk Tall; Cannonball Adderley-Stars Fell on Alabam; Cannonball Adderley-Wabash
"He had a certain spirit. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it was there in his playing every night." --Miles Davis
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Julian Edwin "Cannonball" Adderley (September 15, 1928 – August 8, 1975), was a jazz alto saxophonist of the small combo era of the 1950s and 1960s. Originally from Tampa, Florida, he moved to New York in the mid 1950s.
He was the brother of jazz cornetist Nat Adderley.
Educator and saxophonist
His educational career was long established prior to teaching applied instrumental music classes at Dillard High School in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Cannonball was a local legend in Florida until he moved to New York City in 1955.
He joined the Miles Davis sextet in 1957, around the time that John Coltrane left the group to join Thelonious Monk's band. (Coltrane would return to Davis's group in 1958). Adderley played on the seminal Davis records Milestones and Kind of Blue. This period also overlapped with pianist Bill Evans's time with the sextet, an association that led to recording Portrait of Cannonball and Know What I Mean?.
His interest as an educator carried over to his recordings. In 1961, Cannonball narrated The Child's Introduction to Jazz, released on Riverside Records.
Band leader
The Cannonball Adderley Quintet featured Cannonball on alto sax and his brother Nat Adderley on cornet. Adderley's first quintet was not very successful. However, after leaving Davis' group, he reformed another, again with his brother, which enjoyed more success.
The new quintet (which later became the Cannonball Adderley Sextet), and Cannonball's other combos and groups, included such noted musicians as:
pianists Bobby Timmons, Victor Feldman, Joe Zawinul (later of Weather Report), Hal Galper, Michael Wolff and George Duke
bassists Sam Jones, Walter Booker and Victor Gaskin
drummers Louis Hayes and Roy McCurdy
saxophonists Charles Lloyd and Yusef Lateef.
The sextet was noteworthy towards the end of the 1960s for achieving crossover success with pop audiences, but doing it without making artistic concessions.
Later life
By the end of 1960s, Adderley's playing began to reflect the influence of the electric jazz avant-garde, and Miles Davis' experiments on the album Bitches Brew. On his albums from this period, such as The Price You Got to Pay to Be Free (1970), he began doubling on soprano saxophone, showing the influence of John Coltrane and Wayne Shorter. In that same year, his quintet appeared at the Monterey Jazz Festival in California, and a brief scene of that performance was featured in the 1971 psychological thriller Play Misty for Me, starring Clint Eastwood. In 1975 he also appeared (in an acting role alongside Jose Feliciano and David Carradine) in the episode "Battle Hymn" in the third season of the TV series Kung Fu.
Adderley died of a stroke in 1975. He was buried in the Southside Cemetery, Tallahassee, Florida. Later that year he was inducted into the Down Beat Jazz Hall of Fame.
Joe Zawinul's composition "Cannon Ball" (recorded on Weather Report's album Black Market) is a tribute to his former leader.
Songs made famous by Adderley and his bands include "This Here" (written by Bobby Timmons), "The Jive Samba," "Work Song" (written by Nat Adderley), "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy" (written by Joe Zawinul) and "Walk Tall" (written by Zawinul, Marrow and Rein). A cover version of Pops Staples' "Why (Am I Treated So Bad)?" also entered the charts.
Adderley was a member of Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia Fraternity of America Incorporated (Xi Omega, Frostburg State University, '70), the largest and oldest secret society in music and Alpha Phi Alpha, the oldest existing intercollegiate Greek-letter fraternity established for African Americans (made Beta Nu chapter, Florida A&M University).
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Biography by Scott Yanow
One of the great alto saxophonists, Cannonball Adderley had an exuberant and happy sound that communicated immediately to listeners. His intelligent presentation of his music (often explaining what he and his musicians were going to play) helped make him one of the most popular of all jazzmen.
Adderley already had an established career as a high school band director in Florida when, during a 1955 visit to New York, he was persuaded to sit in with Oscar Pettiford's group at the Cafe Bohemia. His playing created such a sensation that he was soon signed to Savoy and persuaded to play jazz full-time in New York. With his younger brother, cornetist Nat, Cannonball formed a quintet that struggled until its breakup in 1957. Adderley then joined Miles Davis, forming part of his super sextet with John Coltrane and participating on such classic recordings as Milestones and Kind of Blue. Adderley's second attempt to form a quintet with his brother was much more successful for, in 1959, with pianist Bobby Timmons, he had a hit recording of "This Here." From then on, Cannonball always was able to work steadily with his band.
During its Riverside years (1959-1963), the Adderley Quintet primarily played soulful renditions of hard bop and Cannonball really excelled in the straight-ahead settings. During 1962-1963, Yusef Lateef made the group a sextet and pianist Joe Zawinul was an important new member. The collapse of Riverside resulted in Adderley signing with Capitol and his recordings became gradually more commercial. Charles Lloyd was in Lateef's place for a year (with less success) and then with his departure the group went back to being a quintet. Zawinul's 1966 composition "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy" was a huge hit for the group, Adderley started doubling on soprano, and the quintet's later recordings emphasized long melody statements, funky rhythms, and electronics. However, during his last year, Cannonball Adderley was revisiting the past a bit and on Phenix he recorded new versions of many of his earlier numbers. But before he could evolve his music any further, Cannonball Adderley died suddenly from a stroke.
Source: http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=11:difixqr5ldte~T1
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Bio by Barry Kernfeld, The New Grove Dictionary Of Jazz
Julian Adderley. The nickname "Cannonball" was a childhood corruption of "cannibal," describing his large appetite. He played alto saxophone in Florida bands from around 1942 and directed a high-school band in Fort Lauderdale for more than two years from September 1948. After serving in army bands from 1950 to 1953 he resumed teaching until 1955.
He then moved to New York, intending to play with his brother, Nat, and to begin graduate studies at New York University. Instead, a chance jam session led to his joining Oscar Pettiford's band and signing a recording contract.
The Adderley brothers formed a promising quintet in january 1956, but in September the following year the group was forced to disband because of financial difficulties. Adderley then replaced Sonny Rollins in the Miles Davis Quintet in October 1957. He stayed in Davis's famous sextets, playing with John Coltrane, until September 1959, when he formed a second quintet with his brother. This group, which played soul jazz and bop, remained intact until 1975, achieving considerable success.
A masterful, confident improviser, Adderley was called "the new Bird" because his debut in 1955 occurred shortly after Charlie Parker's death. This unfortunate label caused resentment among the press and public, and set him unattainable standards.
Although he at times imitated Parker (as did all bop alto saxophonists), his first bop recordings reveal more chromatic and continuous lines and a more cutting tone than Parker's. On other recordings he played and composed in a simple blues- and gospel-oriented style. "Cherokee" [mp3] with Bud Powell & Don Byas from 1961.
Source: http://hardbop.tripod.com/cannon.html
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Jazz: Cannonball Adderley
Those of you who have poked around Randy's Rodeo much have no doubt ascertained that my tastes can be a tad, um, mainstream. Certainly, I love a good, catchy single, and I am drawn to emotive, accessible records. My fondness, then, for the music of Cannonball Adderley should come as no surprise, for his was a joyful, soulful strain of jazz. Consequently, he has been, in the words of the Penguin Guide To Jazz, critically undervalued. "Cannonball always fell back on cliques," the book contends, "because he just liked the sound of them. But, there's a lean, hard-won quality about his best playing that says a lot about one man's dedication to his craft."
Julian "Cannonball" Adderley recorded prolifically for 21 years (1955-1975), playing with a who's who of jazz, including John Coltrane, Bill Evans, Art Blakey, Horace Silver, and Miles Davis. Cannonball earned his bones, in fact, as a member of the legendary Davis sextet that recorded Kind Of Blue, Milestones, and Porgy & Bess (1958-59), and Davis' contribution to Adderley's 1959 Blue Note LP, Somethin' Else, helped make it an indisputable jazz classic; grudgingly perhaps, the Penguin Guide gives it four stars - their highest rating.
But, Cannonball was very popular with the general public, thanks in part to his ingratiating personality; during concerts, he would launch into lengthy, humorous, spoken introductions that clearly pleased his audience. His success, however, was mostly due a series of catchy, rock-solid singles he recorded in the years following his high profile work with Miles Davis. These include "Work Song" (1960), "African Waltz" (1961), "Jive Samba" (1962), "Save Your Love For Me" (1962), and one of the all-time great jazz hits, "Mercy Mercy Mercy" (1966), which reached #11 Pop and #2 R&B.
Tragically, Cannonball's life and career were cut short by a stroke at age 46. But, his recorded legacy, I argue, makes him an important figure in both the hard bop school of the late 50's and the development of soul jazz in the 60's. Perhaps more importantly, he played an important role as an ambassador for jazz and was instrumental in advancing the careers of many young players - Charles Lloyd and Yusef Lateef among them. Truly, Cannonball Adderley was an expansive, engaging bandleader; together with his easygoing musical style, this made him one of the most popular (if not respected) jazzmen of his day.
An alto saxophone player, Cannonball Adderley was inevitably influenced influenced by post-war giants Charlie Parker and Benny Carter. By the mid-50's, he was a moonlighting from his job as a high school band director in a group with his brother, cornet virtuoso Nat Adderley, in their native Florida. While visiting New York, he and Nat sat in with Oscar Pettiford and were subsequently signed to Savoy Records. Before long, Miles Davis tapped Cannonball to play alongside John Coltrane in that immortal sextet. Following following his stint with Miles, Adderley picked up where he has left off, playing with his brother. Over the years, the Adderley siblings performed in a variety of settings, from small groups to big bands, but their best and most popular sides were recorded by quintets and sextets that, over the years, included Joe Zawinul (who wrote "Mercy"), Charles Lloyd, and Bobby Timmons.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. In 1955, Adderley and his brother participated in several hard bop sessions for Savoy that featured a rotating cast of soon-to-be-legends, including Kenny Clark, Horace Silver, Donald Byrd, and Hank Jones. The sessions yielded (at least) three different albums: most famously Bohemia After Dark, but also Cannonball's and Nat's respective debuts, Presenting Julian Cannonball Adderley and That's Nat. These sessions have been reissued many times - most expansively on Summer Of '55 (1999) and most concisely on Spontaneous Combustion (2006), or on any number of other Savoy reissues.
Beginning with 1955's Julian Cannonball Adderley (and throughout his celebrated stint with Miles Davis), Cannonball recorded for the EmArcy label, and these sides are often overlooked by fans and (especially) critics. And it's true, some of these sessions were overtly tailored to pop tastes. By the way, two of the best such albums - Adderley And Strings (1955) and Jump For Joy (1958) - are available as a 2-for-1 CD from Verve.
Most of Cannonball's EmArcy sessions, however, were bop-oriented, and these recordings are compiled in their entirety on Sophisticated Swing: The Emarcy Small Group Recordings - including sessions issued under brother Nat's imprimatur. When EmArcy was shuttered, Adderley switched to Mercury, which reissued his EmArcy sides in the early 60's under a variety of titles new and old including Cannonball EnRoute (1961) and The Lush Side of Cannonball (1962).
As an overview of this period, pick up Verve's The Ultimate Cannonball Adderley (1999) which brings together highlights from all the EmArcy and Mercury recordings, including the fabled quintet sessions with John Coltrane (see below) and a 1962 date with Ray Brown. In the alternative, look for Verve Jazz Masters (1994) or Cannonball Adderley's Finest Hour (2001).
Though Cannonball Adderley was quickly coming into his own as a bandleader, his two landmark recordings from the late 1950's are inextricably tied to his tenure with Miles Davis. Somethin' Else, of course, was an absolutely stellar session with Miles Davis, Hank Jones, and Art Blakey, and Sam Jones, and it has become Adderley's most highly regarded album. Then, Cannonball quickly followed up with Quintet In Chicago, a magnificent jam with Adderley's mates from the 1959 Davis sextet, including John Coltrane and Wynton Kelly. It is among the most challenging work Adderley ever did - and among Coltrane's most instantly likeable. (Quintet In Chicago was released on Mercury, and later reissued by Verve as Cannonball And Coltrane)
Around this time, Adderley began a productive sojourn at Riverside Records (from 1958 till it went bust in 1963) marked by popular singles like "This Here," "African Waltz," "The Jive Samba," "Work Song," and "Waltz For Debby" (with Bill Evans). Among the standout studio albums from these years are his Riverside debut, Portrait Of Cannonball (1958); Things Are Getting Better (a tremendous date with vibraphonist Milt Jackson, Art Blakey, and Wynnton Kelly, 1958); Quintet In San Francisco (1959); Them Dirty Blues (1960); Know What I Mean? (with Bill Evans, 1961); and the live sextet workout, In New York (1962). Fantasy's Greatest Hits: The Riverside Years collects (all too brief) highlights from this period - excellent as jumping-off point or as a taster for casual fan. During this period, Adderley also waxed Poll Winners with Ray Brown and Wes Montgomery (1960) and the popular Nancy Wilson & Cannonball Adderley (1962) for Capitol.
It was Capitol that snatched up Cannonball Adderley after Riverside folded, and they took control of several of his Riverside masters. During these years, Adderley settled into a pleasant, easy groove - though he inarguably continued to produce good music. The first Capitol releases, Jazz Workshop Revisited (an excellent 1962 live date), Cannonball Takes Charge (an authoritative 1959 studio session), and Cannonball's Bossa Nova (featuring Sergio Mendes) were originally recorded for and/or released by Riverside. But, his surprising Fiddler On The Roof (1964) was all new. The popular LP Mercy Mercy Mercy (1966, billed as "live at The Club," which it is not) is also very good, and it gave Adderley the biggest hit of his career.
Contrary to popular wisdom, Adderley pushed and stretched his music later in his career, experimenting with electric music, among other things. But the soulful sides are what he did best (and is best known for), and Capitol's Best Of Cannonball Adderley nicely sums up this aspect of his career. And, it is a good companion to Fantasy's Greatest Hits. Under their Blue Note imprint, Capitol also collaborated with Verve to produce The Definitive Cannonball Adderley; in a word, it's not definitive (it would take a boxed set to achieve that), but it cherry picks cuts from four labels and spans 15 years - something no other album has attempted.
Adderley continued to record for Capitol until 1973. He switched briefly to Motown and then to Fantasy before returning to Capitol shortly before his death. All told, the recordings of Cannonball Adderley are many and varied; as many as we've discussed here, there are dozens more. Collecting Cannonball, then, becomes a daunting task. Thankfully, some good compilations exist to expedite the process - though none are any more comprehensive than the all-too-brief Definitive Cannonball Adderley.
Together, five discs - Spontaneous Combustion (Savoy), Ultimate (Verve), Somethin' Else (Blue Note), Greatest Hits (Fantasy), and Capitol's Best Of (which overlaps slightly with Fantasy's set) - provide a good start, comprising an ad hoc boxed set (sans box) that surveys most of Adderley's prolific catalog. Plus, a huge amount of Cannonball's repertoire is now available for download, making it easier to fill in the gaps. Beyond that, jazz buffs will find a cornucopia of albums to dig - most reissued on CD more than once.
Source: http://www.randysrodeo.com/jazz/adderley.php
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Discography
As a leader
Julian Cannonball Adderley and Strings (1955)
Jump For Joy (1957)
Portrait of Cannonball (1958)
Somethin' Else (1958) - with Miles Davis, Hank Jones, Sam Jones, Art Blakey
Things Are Getting Better (1958)
Cannonball Adderley Quintet in Chicago (1959) - with John Coltrane
The Cannonball Adderley Quintet in San Francisco (1959)
Cannonball and Coltrane (1959)
Blue Spring (1959) - with Kenny Dorham
At the Lighthouse (1960)
Them Dirty Blues (1960)
What Is This Thing Called Soul? (1960)
Sweet and Lovely (1960/1961)
Know What I Mean? (1961) - with Bill Evans
African Waltz (1961)
The Quintet Plus (1961)
Nancy Wilson and Cannonball Adderley (1961)
In New York (1962)
Cannonball's Bossa Nova (1962)
Dizzy's Business (1962)
Jazz Workshop Revisited (1963)
Nippon Soul (1963)
Fiddler on the Roof (1964)
Domination (1965) - Orchestrated and arranged by Oliver Nelson
Mercy, Mercy, Mercy! Live at 'The Club' (1966)
Cannonball in Japan (1966)
Why Am I Treated So Bad! (1967)
74 Miles Away (1967)
Radio Nights (1967)
Accent On Africa (1968)
Country Preacher (1969)
The Price You Got to Pay to Be Free (1970)
The Black Messiah (Live) (1972)
Inside Straight (1973)
Pyramid (1974)
Love, Sex, and the Zodiac (1974)
Phenix (1975)
Big Man (1975) (Musical with Joe Williams and Randy Crawford)
As sideman
With Miles Davis
Milestones (1958)
Miles & Monk at Newport (1958)
Jazz at the Plaza (1958)
Porgy and Bess (1958)
Kind of Blue (1959)
As a producer
Wide Open Spaces (1960) - David Newman
A Portrait of Thelonious (1961) - Bud Powell
Don Byas & Bud Powell - Tribute To Cannonball (1961)
Awards
1967 Grammy Award, Best Instrumental Jazz Performance, Small Group or Soloist with Small Group for "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy! Live at 'The Club'" by Cannonball Adderley Quintet.
Readmore...