Published on Mar 10, 2004
Quick, name the artist who issued the first jazz album ever
certified gold.
Miles Davis would be a good guess; so would a half-dozen other
jazz greats of the late ’50s-early ’60s era. The answer, however,
is Eddie Harris.
The success of Harris’s debut album, 1961’s
Exodus To Jazz, was considered an amazing fluke at the time;
Harris was a complete unknown making his debut album for an r&b
label, not to mention the fact that they signed him as pianist, yet
he played nothing but tenor sax on the album.
That was the first big clue that Eddie Harris was not going to
play the music industry’s “fulfilling expectations” game. Harris is
a musical chameleon who explored the outer reaches of his
audience’s ability to adapt in a 35-year career that veered from
straight bop to electric jazz to jazz-funk and even a stab at a
somewhat raunchy nightclub comedy act. That said, during the ’60s,
he was one of the most melodic, inventive sax players on the scene,
and this 1969 collection — whose 1989 CD version adds a generous
five tracks and 25 minutes to the original LP — is all the
evidence required.
These tunes have an innate swing and panache that turns even
epic free-for-alls like the hard-bopping “Freedom Jazz Dance” (all
9:39 of it) into compelling entertainment. The other principal
highlight here — and the most notable addition to the CD reissue
of this album — is “Sham Time,” a bruising workout featuring a
nine-man band (including six horns) that milks every groove and
spotlights superb soloing.
It’s easy to see from this album, however, that Harris was never
going to be satisfied being pigeonholed into any single genre or
style. Why else record a string-drenched piece of schmaltzy
Hollywood jazz like Charles Stepney’s “Theme In Search of A Movie,”
doubtless considered heresy by traditional jazz purists?
The fun part of listening to this album – besides the
finger-snapping grooves of cuts like “Live Right Now” and “Love
Theme From ‘The Sandpiper’ (The Shadow Of Your Smile)” — is
hearing Harris defy expectations again and again, ever the
determined explorer in search of a new vein of sound to mine.
For example, the closing “Is It In?” is a snazzy excursion into
electrified jazz-funk that’s miles (pun intended) from where this
album started out. Meanwhile, the live cut “Movin’ On Out” shows
off the potential of one of Harris’s major innovations — the
electric sax, sweet-toned and full of sound-fattening echo. It’s
not for everyone, but it’s intriguing and all Eddie Harris’s
own.
Perhaps the highlight of Harris’ career was his all-too-brief
teaming with Les McCann at 1969’s Montreaux Jazz festival,
chronicled on the album
Swiss Movement, co-credited to McCann and Harris. That album
is a must for anyone with any interest at all in jazz. If you’re
looking for more, though,
The Best Of Eddie Harris might make a good next purchase —
a concise summary of the 1965-73 middle phase of one of the most
talented and innovative sax players of the modern jazz era.