Music Feedback
New This WeekAround TownMusicFilmArtTheaterNews & FeaturesFood & DrinkAstrology
  HOME
NEW THIS WEEK
EDITORS' PICKS
LISTINGS
NEWS & FEATURES
MUSIC
FILM
ART
BOOKS
THEATER
DANCE
TELEVISION
FOOD & DRINK
ARCHIVES
LETTERS
PERSONALS
CLASSIFIEDS
ADULT
ASTROLOGY
PHOENIX FORUM DOWNLOAD MP3s

  E-Mail This Article to a Friend
Songs of hope
Two sides of William Parker
BY ED HAZELL

For sheer energy and inventiveness, few improvisers can match bassist William Parker. Yet as impressive an instrumentalist as he is, he’s also been growing into the role of a great composer as he records more of his own music. Two recent releases reveal his new compositional depth. Raining on the Moon (Thirsty Ear) showcases his rarely heard songwriting. And Bob’s Pink Cadillac (Eremite) finds him drawing on jazz history and his own experiences for some of his most convincing composing and performing.

Parker’s songs have emerged belatedly, though by his own count he’s written about 200 of them. Raining on the Moon, by his newest quartet, with alto-saxophonist Rob Brown, trumpeter Lewis Barnes, and drummer Hamid Drake, features the extraordinary singer Leena Conquest, whose smoky soul-gospel inflections give these numbers sensual immediacy and dignity. The album, only the second to feature his songs, is one of the most accessible — and powerful — in Parker’s 30-year discography.

The music is unexpectedly stable. Drake’s beat remains steady throughout "Song of Hope" and the title track, as do Parker’s propulsive vamps. Although there’s plenty of creative interplay to keep things loose, this quartet never distorts songs beyond recognition. And though Parker’s writing and arranging stretch song forms so they can accommodate soul-music horn riffs, free-jazz soloing, and world-music influences, it’s a mark of his stature as a composer that his stylistic syntheses sound completely natural.

Yet the primary source of Raining on the Moon’s power is his lyrics. These are great free-jazz art songs that emerge from an African-American vernacular. They’re meant to speak on behalf of the defeated and the downtrodden, to offer hope, dignity, and compassion. The pacifist vision of Gandhi as Minister of Defense in "Raining on the Moon" is advanced with tongue firmly in cheek, but Parker’s outrage at life’s injustices is palpable. "Song of Hope" is spiritual without being preachy. "Music Song," in which the "joy of Heaven whispers in my ear," is beautiful and healing. The poems seem simple and songlike, but they’re sophisticated in the way they combine folk elements, fables, mystical nature imagery, surrealist juxtaposition, political ideals, and humor. The William Blake of Songs of Innocence might recognize their blend of childlike innocence and world-weariness; any beat poet would envy their democratic spirit and contemporary æsthetic. Parker wrote in the liner notes to last year’s Song Cycle (Boxholder), his only other album of songs, that "there should be no difference between singing and life." Raining on the Moon comes close to achieving that.

Parker’s integration of art and life likewise gives his instrumental music force and clarity. The first disc of Bob’s Pink Cadillac, a double CD featuring clarinettist Perry Robinson and drummer Walter Perkins, features Parker’s compositions (the second is a live free improvisation) — and as his liner notes make clear, they spring from the same concern with fundamental human emotions and experiences as do his songs, but on a more autobiographical scale. "Overcoat in the River" pays homage to some of his early friends and mentors. The title track is named after a car owned by the late Bob Reid, a little-known but highly talented loft-era bassist. The longest and most harrowing number, "Fence in the Snow," was inspired by a dream. It seems clear that Parker is building a personal mythology and folklore to structure his instrumental explorations.

The CDs are lightly textured, multicolored, and surprisingly lyrical. They also feature some of Parker’s most rhythmically varied performances. The trio slips so naturally into and out of different rhythmic approaches that the album often feels like straight-ahead jazz, though the organization of the music is actually quite radical. Perkins, who has backed jazz giants like Coleman Hawkins and Sonny Rollins, and Robinson, who has played with everyone from Dave Brubeck to Gunther Hampel, help account for this fluidity. Perkins has the crisp drive of a master bebop drummer but an avant-gardist’s interest in timbre and spontaneous structure. And Robinson is a seemingly endless well of melodies and riffs with a rich woody tone and a penchant for veering off into sonic abstraction.

These recordings reveal the dual purpose of Parker’s music. It’s a diary of his life and his evolving thoughts and spiritual beliefs, as well as a remembrance of the people who have shaped his life and thinking. But it’s more than just self-expression. His belief in the social responsibilities and consequences of musicmaking and his acute awareness of fundamental human needs give it a political and social function beyond æsthetic pleasure. No one else in jazz is combining the personal and the universal with the same power or persuasiveness.

Issue Date: June 20 - 27, 2002
Back to the Music table of contents.

  E-Mail This Article to a Friend