ROLLINS PLAYS FOR BIRD...A Tribute
Jazz Photography by William P Gottlieb
Following Parker’s death on March 12th 1955 there would follow a host of tributes to the saxophonist, both in print and as albums recorded as a memorials or dedications. Many would pay no more than lip service from those who had paid little attention to Bird during his lifetime, with plaudits and accolades that were denied him during his all too brief career that came pouring from the media of the time. Often these would seemingly backtrack on their previous commentary, replacing the outrage and sometimes disgust in the way Parker conducted his private life to that of misunderstood and underappreciated genius. The truth can of course be found somewhere in the middle of these two extremes.
Of the tributes recorded, perhaps one of the most pertinent and relevant was that recorded by tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins. Rollins was, after all, perhaps Bird’s natural successor. Never a bebop player per se, Sonny had a secure command of the idiom, even if before Parker’s death he was already moving away from bop and into new territory. Taking Bird’s legacy and the new rhythms of the hard bop movement that was beginning to gain momentum, along with his vast harmonic sophistication, Sonny despite his own insecurities and lack of self confidence (he would take several sabbaticals during his career, disappearing from the scene for extended periods of self examination and wood shedding), was already showing signs of forging his own distinctive style.
Neither was he in a rush to jump on the band wagon as far as recording his own tribute to Parker was concerned. It was not until October 1956 that Sonny entered the studio to record what would be released as Rollins Plays For Bird (Prestige 7095) for producer Bob Weinstock, some eighteen months after Bird’s passing. Leading a quintet comprising of Kenny Dorham on trumpet (who had recorded on some of Parker’s own sessions), and pianist Wade Legge; completing the rhythm section was George Morrow on bass, and drummer Max Roach. Morrow, Rollins and Roach were intimately familiar with each other’s playing having been in the classic Clifford Brown-Max Roach Quintet that was silenced by the tragic death of trumpeter Brown and pianist, Richie Powell in June of that year. Roach had also been the tenorist’s drummer of choice on his Saxophone Colossus album recorded on 22nd June, just four days before the car accident that claimed the lives of Brown and Powell. It should also be remembered that Max had also had the closest connection to Charlie Parker, having contributed too many of the alto saxophonist’s finest, and definitive bebop recordings of the forties.
Neither was he in a rush to jump on the band wagon as far as recording his own tribute to Parker was concerned. It was not until October 1956 that Sonny entered the studio to record what would be released as Rollins Plays For Bird (Prestige 7095) for producer Bob Weinstock, some eighteen months after Bird’s passing. Leading a quintet comprising of Kenny Dorham on trumpet (who had recorded on some of Parker’s own sessions), and pianist Wade Legge; completing the rhythm section was George Morrow on bass, and drummer Max Roach. Morrow, Rollins and Roach were intimately familiar with each other’s playing having been in the classic Clifford Brown-Max Roach Quintet that was silenced by the tragic death of trumpeter Brown and pianist, Richie Powell in June of that year. Roach had also been the tenorist’s drummer of choice on his Saxophone Colossus album recorded on 22nd June, just four days before the car accident that claimed the lives of Brown and Powell. It should also be remembered that Max had also had the closest connection to Charlie Parker, having contributed too many of the alto saxophonist’s finest, and definitive bebop recordings of the forties.
Alternate LP Sleeve
For the repertoire for the session Rollins mostly steered away from playing original compositions by Parker, and instead chose standards that were associated with Bird. One theory, put forward by All Music Guide critic, Michael G. Nastos for this was that, by doing so Rollin’s could save himself the trouble of transposing the music from the alto’s home key of E flat to B flat for his tenor saxophone… a laughable proposition when Rollin’s could probably have sight-transposed the music when reading from the alto parts. The chosen standards were then performed in the form of a medley taking in seven standards over its twenty seven minute duration.
Pianist, Wade Legge does a neat job of stitching this all together with seamless transitions from one tune to the next as well as getting two features to himself on ‘Old Folks’ and ‘My Little Suede Shoes’, (the only Parker composed piece on the album). Legge is in danger of becoming one of the forgotten figures in the jazz of this period. Born in 1934, and starting out as a bassist before switching to piano, he could frequently be found in the recording studios of Savoy and Prestige recording in some pretty fast company including that of Dizzy Gillespie, altoists Jackie Mclean and Gigi Gryce, and Charles Mingus. In the equally fast company of Sonny Rollins he acquits himself well on this recording and is deserving of a second hearing. Sadly, Legge was dead before he reached thirty and how he would go on to develop is now subject to speculation.
Strangely, and somewhat out of character, trumpeter Dorham is less than at this best. He of all the participants, along with Max Roach, would have had the closest association with the albums dedicatee having worked extensively in parker’s quintet. Whether he was having an off day is uncertain, but even on his two featured vehicles, ‘My Melancholy Baby’ and ‘Just Friends’ he fails to ignite.
Pianist, Wade Legge does a neat job of stitching this all together with seamless transitions from one tune to the next as well as getting two features to himself on ‘Old Folks’ and ‘My Little Suede Shoes’, (the only Parker composed piece on the album). Legge is in danger of becoming one of the forgotten figures in the jazz of this period. Born in 1934, and starting out as a bassist before switching to piano, he could frequently be found in the recording studios of Savoy and Prestige recording in some pretty fast company including that of Dizzy Gillespie, altoists Jackie Mclean and Gigi Gryce, and Charles Mingus. In the equally fast company of Sonny Rollins he acquits himself well on this recording and is deserving of a second hearing. Sadly, Legge was dead before he reached thirty and how he would go on to develop is now subject to speculation.
Strangely, and somewhat out of character, trumpeter Dorham is less than at this best. He of all the participants, along with Max Roach, would have had the closest association with the albums dedicatee having worked extensively in parker’s quintet. Whether he was having an off day is uncertain, but even on his two featured vehicles, ‘My Melancholy Baby’ and ‘Just Friends’ he fails to ignite.
Alternate LP Sleeve for Esquire
Of the frontline partnership it is Rollins who shines. His solos are packed with interest, but rather than slavishly throwing in any bop licks follows his own path. The medley kicks off with Rollins playing the opening phrase of ‘Parker’s Mood’ and then, as pointed out by Ira Gitler in the original LP sleeve notes, follows the sequence of one chorus of melody, one of improvisation and the third with exchanges with the drummer before Rollins returns to the theme. This is followed for six out of the seven pieces in the medley and up to the eighteen minute mark. By this time, Rollins must have been yearning to stretch out, and this he does on the final piece of the jigsaw. Both horns are featured in the closing ‘Star Eyes’, but again it is the saxophonist who engages with his solo that is full of the characteristic twist and turn we have come to expect from a Rollins’ solo.
The remainder of the ‘tribute’ album is made up of one original in ‘Kids Know’ (that features some great playing from Max Roach), and ‘I’ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face’, a fine feature for the saxophonist. A recently reissued release of the album on Essential Jazz Classics (EJC 5565) also adds an additional track not released on the original LP, ‘The House I Live In’.
The remainder of the ‘tribute’ album is made up of one original in ‘Kids Know’ (that features some great playing from Max Roach), and ‘I’ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face’, a fine feature for the saxophonist. A recently reissued release of the album on Essential Jazz Classics (EJC 5565) also adds an additional track not released on the original LP, ‘The House I Live In’.
For all his individuality, it is perhaps appropriate to be reminded that Rollins and Parker actually recorded together, and both on tenor to boot. The session took place in January 1953, and was recorded by Bob Weinstock for Prestige. The date, under the leadership of Miles Davis, has been available as Collector’s Items (Prestige ) but only produced four cuts; two takes of ‘Serpent’s Tooth’ and ‘Compulsion’ by the trumpeter, and Monk’s ‘’Round Midnight’.
At the time of the recording, Parker was contracted to Mercury Records and appeared under the pseudonym ‘Charlie Chan’. He would use this again on the recording of the famous Massey Hall concert later that same year released on Charles Mingus’ Debut imprint. The session is disappointing when considering the talent gathered, with the horns never quite gelling and suffering from intonation problems throughout. Miles was still dependent on narcotics, and it was not until 1954 that he rid himself of his habit and started recording some of his classic albums; and though Parker was off heroin he was substituting its absence with large quantities of alcohol. Sonny was also beset with his own problems, and it therefore surprising that there was anything released from the session at all.
For all its inherent problems, the session does serve as a useful pointer to how things may pan out for some of the participants in the not too distant future. The rhythm section of Walter Bishop Jr. on piano, bassist Percy Heath and drummer Philly Joe Jones function rather more than adequately, with Heath going on to play on some of Miles more interesting and rather better albums leading into a more productive juncture for the trumpeter circa 1954; whilst Philly Joe would be Miles drummer of choice for the first Great Quintet of 1955.
Of the four cuts deemed fit for release, ‘Compulsion’ is a pretty much a standard bop theme, and not even ideally a suitable vehicle for its composer. Even at this early stage Davis is leaning more stylistically and sound wise, to his Birth of the Cool nonet recordings from 1948/50, looking for a clean, vibrato less tone and lyrical economy that is almost alien to bebop. The first take of ‘The Serpent’s Tooth’ suffers the worst of all for intonation problems, and if take two is not perfect the intro and main theme sit more comfortably and there are some interesting solos from front line and Walter Bishop at the piano. For those more familiar with Davis’ famous version of ‘‘Round Midnight’ from the 1955 Newport Jazz Festival and the studio version cut for his debut album for Columbia Records, this will come as quite a departure. Not as assured in both Monk’s melody or how to deal with his solo, this does ably demonstrate how over the next eighteen months, and free of drugs, that Miles would blossom into the master soloist who would spend the mid and latter part of the decade producing one classic album after another.
For Bird, perhaps the high spot of 1953 musically speaking, would be the Massey Hall concert featuring a quintet comprising of himself, once again billed as ‘Charlie Chan’ and this time back on alto saxophone, withhis former and original frontline partner, Dizzy Gillespie, with pianist Bud Powell, Charles Mingus (bass) and Max Roach behind the drum kit.
Perhaps his last great triumph, the Massey Hall concert will be forever preserved and remembered by followers of Charlie ‘Yardbird’ Parker for his wonderfully inventive playing, recalling his at his best almost ten years earlier. And it is this fact that was probably partly to do with Parker’s undoing, as he was to go on to confess that he was unsure of how to take his music further. Many would say he had done enough, but for a creative and restless mind, he simply did not know how to slow down and take stock.
His final months would find him sick and often destitute and relying on friends. On March 9th 1955 he found himself staying with the Baronness Pannonica "Nica" de Koenigwarter, the patron of modern jazz that had befriended and assisted other jazz musicians in the past, including pianist Thelonious Monk. Three days later he would be dead, suffering a heart attack whilst watching the Jimmy Dorsey Show on television silencing the larger than life personality, and one of the greatest musical minds of the 20th century.
At the time of the recording, Parker was contracted to Mercury Records and appeared under the pseudonym ‘Charlie Chan’. He would use this again on the recording of the famous Massey Hall concert later that same year released on Charles Mingus’ Debut imprint. The session is disappointing when considering the talent gathered, with the horns never quite gelling and suffering from intonation problems throughout. Miles was still dependent on narcotics, and it was not until 1954 that he rid himself of his habit and started recording some of his classic albums; and though Parker was off heroin he was substituting its absence with large quantities of alcohol. Sonny was also beset with his own problems, and it therefore surprising that there was anything released from the session at all.
For all its inherent problems, the session does serve as a useful pointer to how things may pan out for some of the participants in the not too distant future. The rhythm section of Walter Bishop Jr. on piano, bassist Percy Heath and drummer Philly Joe Jones function rather more than adequately, with Heath going on to play on some of Miles more interesting and rather better albums leading into a more productive juncture for the trumpeter circa 1954; whilst Philly Joe would be Miles drummer of choice for the first Great Quintet of 1955.
Of the four cuts deemed fit for release, ‘Compulsion’ is a pretty much a standard bop theme, and not even ideally a suitable vehicle for its composer. Even at this early stage Davis is leaning more stylistically and sound wise, to his Birth of the Cool nonet recordings from 1948/50, looking for a clean, vibrato less tone and lyrical economy that is almost alien to bebop. The first take of ‘The Serpent’s Tooth’ suffers the worst of all for intonation problems, and if take two is not perfect the intro and main theme sit more comfortably and there are some interesting solos from front line and Walter Bishop at the piano. For those more familiar with Davis’ famous version of ‘‘Round Midnight’ from the 1955 Newport Jazz Festival and the studio version cut for his debut album for Columbia Records, this will come as quite a departure. Not as assured in both Monk’s melody or how to deal with his solo, this does ably demonstrate how over the next eighteen months, and free of drugs, that Miles would blossom into the master soloist who would spend the mid and latter part of the decade producing one classic album after another.
For Bird, perhaps the high spot of 1953 musically speaking, would be the Massey Hall concert featuring a quintet comprising of himself, once again billed as ‘Charlie Chan’ and this time back on alto saxophone, withhis former and original frontline partner, Dizzy Gillespie, with pianist Bud Powell, Charles Mingus (bass) and Max Roach behind the drum kit.
Perhaps his last great triumph, the Massey Hall concert will be forever preserved and remembered by followers of Charlie ‘Yardbird’ Parker for his wonderfully inventive playing, recalling his at his best almost ten years earlier. And it is this fact that was probably partly to do with Parker’s undoing, as he was to go on to confess that he was unsure of how to take his music further. Many would say he had done enough, but for a creative and restless mind, he simply did not know how to slow down and take stock.
His final months would find him sick and often destitute and relying on friends. On March 9th 1955 he found himself staying with the Baronness Pannonica "Nica" de Koenigwarter, the patron of modern jazz that had befriended and assisted other jazz musicians in the past, including pianist Thelonious Monk. Three days later he would be dead, suffering a heart attack whilst watching the Jimmy Dorsey Show on television silencing the larger than life personality, and one of the greatest musical minds of the 20th century.
