Human Revolution: William Parker Moves Free Jazz Ahead

The neo-boppers and other relative conservatives get most of the ink these days, but free jazz is far from dead. With Compassion Seizes Bed-Stuy (Homestead), bassist William Parker has capped off a trilogy of recordings that stand as a remarkable achievement in the music's recent history. He launched this ambitious project last year with In Order To Survive (Black Saint), a CD that also marked the return to recording of trombonist Grachan Moncur III. Part two was Testimony (Zero In), a stunning solo performance recorded live at the Knitting Factory. These albums document the work of a composer-instrumentalist who has stepped away from his role as perennial sideman and taken his place as an important leader.

Throughout the '80s and early '90s, Parker's association with pianist Cecil Taylor brought him the most recognition, but he was an active sideman with many others, including Billy Bang, Charles Gayle, Bill Dixon, and Peter Brötzmann. More recently, he's been a regular member of the David S. Ware quartet and Matthew Shipp trio. In those years he released only three albums as a leader or co-leader; thanks to the trilogy and his big-band album Flowers Grow in My Room (Centering), he's more than doubled his output as a leader in the past two years.

The music has a life-and-death urgency. The septet on In Order To Survive, recorded live at the Knitting Factory on two different occasions, burns with righteous fire. That CD also boasts some strong individual performances, especially from alto-saxophonist Rob Brown, one of the most consistently musical and compelling of the new free-jazz players. And it's good to hear the honest bluesy rumble of trombonist Moncur again.

Testimony places Parker among a select number of bassists -- Dave Holland, Barre Phillips, and Peter Kowald among them -- who have sustained solo albums. Parker plunges in as if he were trying to save a sinner from the devil. From its opening moments, "Sonic Animation" grabs you with alarming force as Parker wails and declaims with the fury of an Old Testament prophet. "Testimony" is another musical jeremiad, with Parker returning to an insistently strummed passage like a preacher harping on the subject of his sermon. With his arsenal of rhetorical devices, speed, and facility on the bass -- and a dark, woody tone that projects honesty and strength -- Parker maintains a remarkable level of intensity for nearly 80 minutes.

As good as those two albums are, Compassion may be the best of the lot. The quartet line-up includes saxophonist Brown, pianist Cooper-Moore, and newcomer Susie Ibarra on drums. They use Parker's compositions as a springboard for some dazzling ensemble work. Each track is a cathartic cry from the heart, complex, yet with utter clarity of structure. On "Goggles," which is dedicated to bassist Earle Freeman, a shuffle beat submerges and resurfaces throughout, creating a steady pulse that holds the band together. On "For Robeson," a piano vamp provides the framework. As Parker bows furiously, saxophonist Brown starts off meshed in Cooper-Moore's pattern but ends up traveling far afield. Parker's playing grows more intense in concert with the group's. He will repeat or vary a phrase to create a melodic-rhythmic underpinning, spin out long lines whose contours shadow Brown's, or take flight with arching bowed lines that sail upward with the band.

These players are all daring soloists too. Cooper-Moore doesn't so much impose structure on the group as articulate the underlying flow they follow. His off-center, staccato bursts of chords and spiky and oblique melodies are sometimes reminiscent of Andrew Hill's. On "Malcolm's Smile," his lines sweep up the keyboard, then cascade down in one of the album's most vivid solos. Ibarra, a former student of Milford Graves, dances in and around the music. She uses waves of cymbals washes punctured from below by tom and snare rhythm patterns. Brown shapes his solos with phrases that mimic speech cadences before usually giving way to vocal cries and untempered sounds. As his lines accelerate on "Holiday for Hypocrites," distinct notes blur into pure sound. Even then, he manipulates that sound with the same musical rigor that marks his linear improvisations.

Parker sees his art as more than purely musical -- it's an integral part of striving for a greater common good. In the liner notes to Compassion, he writes that all three albums "speak about embracing and making a commitment to life in its highest partial. The premise was to start a human revolution. To bring dreams closer to present-day reality." On Compassion Seizes Bed-Stuy, the revolution and the dream are very much alive.

-- Ed Hazell