Lazaro Vega

The Dexter in Radioland series on Steeplechase is full of great music.

I wouldn't typify Wild Bill Davis as a novelty player. He was more of the Big Band era as seen in the popularity of his arrangement on "April in Paris" as played by the Basie band, and the invitations from The Maestro Duke Ellington to play and record often near the end of Duke's career, not to mention Wild Bill's work with Johnny Hodges. That isn't exactly novelty music. Smith brought the instrument into what might be thought of as back to basics reconsideration of the language of Bird, and another attempt to bring the music back to the Black audience.

Yeah, I remember driving my first car through Grand Haven, Michigan, and happily listening to the radio until they said Roy Eldridge had died. That one really got to me. Maybe because Roy always brought the party.

James Oscar you are in our prayers. "The Sermon" "The Duel" "Oh, No, Babe" Three faves. To quote a recent album title, "Damn!" "Drinks! Drinks for all my friends!" Line exclaimed while Smith's "The Sermon" played in the sound track to "Bar Fly." Old friends from Detroit told tales of Smith at the Bluebird wringing wet, lost in the ecstacy of jazz performance taking the towel from around his neck and at the height of frenzy snapping it at the keyboard, "Whap!" "Whap, eeek! Thwack" then jumping back on board like James Bond getting behind the wheel of a moving boat in some crazy scene on the Detroit River to light up a blues run down the length of the keys, then grabbing that Ivory beast by the throat, making it stand up and exclaim like a preacher saving the world from the doors of hell, all the while kickin' the bass and all that Motor City grime right down the bar room drain..... Now comes the quiet. RIP Mr. Smith.

Larry, There was some discussion at the Chicago Improv list about that concert and whether Muhal and Malachi Favors played with the great man, or if they were a "warm-up" band. Was there any musical interaction between Hawkins and the AACM Chicagoans? Lazaro

Jim: I thought that Litweiler's book was just fine. Yes, it was, yet at some point the first person accounts from Ornette fall away. J.L. does a great job from that point on through his own insights, but when Ornette backed out from the interview process, probably thinking he should save something for his own book, it seemed to leave room for more. Let the cry go out across the land: MORE ORNETTE!!! And p.s. Jack Sheldon would be a riot. He's still playing well. Have you heard any of those Butterfly Records releases?

The Candid CD re-issue of Max Roach's "Freedom Now!" suite is a dub from an lp (and no personnel listings in the liner notes). The Columbia reissue of that from the 80's sounds better. The Taylor Candid's capture an artist in transition, don't you think?, as well as a musician finding an ensemble of like minded players to begin to realize his own personal music.

Ornette. Von Freeman. Fred Anderson.

In celebration of Black History Month, the History Honors Society, the History Department and the Office of Multicultural Affairs at Grand Valley State University, Grand Rapids, MI, presents: Black Music, Black Power The Response of Jazz Musicians to the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s Lecture featuring Dr. Craig Benjamin of the GVSU History Department and concert featuring the GVSU Faculty Jazz Ensemble Kurt Ellenberger on piano Rob Hartman on double bass Paul Smith on drums Mel Dalton on tenor sax Craig Benjamin on flute and alto sax Thursday Feb 10th, 7:00-9:00 pm Loosemore Auditorium, Devos Campus Downtown Grand Rapids Grand Valley State University

Larry or Uli, did either of you guys catch the Bronzeville Jazz Festival at Hot House last Sunday?

Jazz Consumer Guide Updates, Not Throwbacks Gypsies and Jews, Afro-Cubans and avant-gardists, led by two smashing piano players by Tom Hull (Village Voice) January 4th, 2005 1:55 PM Pick Hits MATTHEW SHIPP Harmony and Abyss Thirsty Ear Shipp's early records were minimal affairs, often duos where he would project long melodic lines like Bud Powell swept into the avant '90s. Until he hooked up with Thirsty Ear he never showed much interest in rhythm, but working for a rock label brought out his inner David Bowie as he veiled his increasingly percussive play behind horn leads. This one is the breakthrough he advertised on Nu Bop and promoted on Equilibrium, because finally the masks are gone: no horns, no vibes, just a piano trio plus programmer Chris Flam. Shipp's piano (or synth) is always up-front, the pieces are all differentiated by rhythm, and the rhythms are as diverse as Shipp's melodic lines once were. A DON PULLEN Mosaic Select [1986-90] Mosaic Pullen had a gimmick: he would turn his hands over and smash out huge clusters of notes with his knuckles. It was an astonishing sound, and he could produce it long enough to take your breath away. But it was less a gimmick than the ultimate example of his unprecedentedly physical attack on the piano. He built up harmonies with explosions of dissonant color and rhythmic complexity, as fast as Art Tatum with his curlicues. But he died in 1995, at 51 neither a shooting star nor a living legend, and his records have vanished—especially the eight he cut for Blue Note from 1986 until his death. This limited edition squeezes the first four onto three CDs. The first two are quartet albums with r&b-flavored saxophonist George Adams. Both are rousing, especially the first. The next two were trios, where the focus is even more squarely on his piano. He was also the most interesting organist to emerge since Larry Young, and his later Ode to Life is poignant and moving. But this was the pinnacle of his pianistic power. A RABIH ABOU-KHALIL Morton's Foot (Enja/Justin Time) The Lebanese oud master's albums shift as jazz collaborators come and go. Tarab features Selim Kusur's nay flute and is in the improvisational tradition of Arab music, while Charlie Mariano's alto sax turns Blue Camel into his most cosmopolitan showcase. This mostly Italian band showcases a new mix: with accordion, tuba, and clarinet it sounds gypsy (meaning a genre, not the ethnic Rom), while Gavino Murgia's traditional Sardinian vocal style can be taken for doo-wop. A MINUS GERI ALLEN/DAVE HOLLAND/JACK DEJOHNETTE The Life of a Song (Telarc) The achievement here is sonic as well as musical. Holland's bass line has rarely been rendered so clearly. It is the center of the universe, the pulse all heavenly bodies orbit around—even the Detroit horn players who crash the trio on the last cut, a serenade for Mal Waldron. A MINUS STEVEN BERNSTEIN Diaspora Hollywood (Tzadik) What if the Jews who scored '40s Hollywood movies and the Jews who chilled West Coast jazz in the '50s had reached deeper into their ethnic legacy? That's the concept here: traditional pieces played soundtrack-style not as social music but for atmospheric effect. Special treat: X drummer D.J. Bonebrake on vibes. A MINUS BIG SATAN Souls Saved Hear (Thirsty Ear) Tom Rainey's perpetually broken time gives this trio a lurching stutter step that Tim Berne's abstract sax only renders more cartoonish. Marc Ducret's guitar provides the sinew that keeps the works from flying apart, and fills in stretches of relative calm when his cohorts take a breather. Berne's albums always hew close to the edge. It's a pleasure to hear one that doesn't crash. A MINUS CHICAGO UNDERGROUND TRIO Slon (Thrill Jockey) The first cut is acoustic, with Rob Mazurek's cornet racing over a fast beat. The second is electronic, a fractured beat with the cornet providing a bare wash of color. The rest work between those poles, with the electronics more prevalent, but the real kick coming from the cornet soaring over Chad Taylor's drums. Synthesis isn't the point; why be "underground" if not to experiment? A MINUS DENIS COLIN TRIO Something in Common (Sunnyside) An update, not a throwback to the black power jazz of the early '70s. The trio is French; the instruments are bass clarinet, cello, and zarb; the lead song is Wyclef Jean's "Diallo." But black power is the spirit. Most songs have vocals: rappers, soul sisters, gospel group. They play Hendrix ugly, Stevie Wonder sweet and sour; they channel Coltrane, Rollins, Shepp, John Gilmore; they go Pan-African to Beaver Harris. If the years haven't blunted anger at injustice, that's because they haven't blunted injustice. A MINUS SATOKO FUJII QUARTET Zephyros (NatSat) Her crashing entrance shows why she gets compared to Cecil Taylor. Then she backs off and lets the band do some work. Propelled by Takeharu Hayakawa's electric bass, the rhythm section was built for speed. But husband and trumpeter Natsuki Tamura prefers to wax lyrical even when surrounded by chaos—which gives this music a touching voice on top of the finely drawn manga violence of Fujii's piano. A MINUS JERRY GONZALEZ Jerry Gonzalez y los Piratas del Flamenco (Sunnyside) In the flamenco that Gonzalez encountered when he moved from New York to Madrid he found a third ingredient to add to his fusion of rumba and Monk. The old world is evident in Nino Josele's guitar and Diego El Cigala's vocals, but the beats sound Afro-Cuban. This record came from a rehearsal tape, with most tracks limited to two or three musicians. One is just conga and cajon; others muted trumpet, guitar, and percussion. And, of course, Monk goes flamenco, with hand claps. A MINUS GONZALO RUBALCABA Paseo (Blue Note) The title translates as "stroll": a leisurely walk through pleasant surroundings, but with a contemplative distance. For Rubalcaba this means back in time to his Cuban roots, and sideways through the maze of modern jazz. With his New Cuban Quartet the dominant voice is saxophonist Luis Felipe Lamoglia, who owes more to Coltrane than to the Caribbean. But the pace and variety come from the rugged Afro-Cuban terrain that keeps the stroll interesting. A MINUS SEPTETO RODRIGUEZ Baila! Gitano Baila! (Tzadik) Roberto Juan Rodriguez learned klezmer as a Cuban expatriate in Miami, working bar mitzvahs and Yiddish theaters. His synthesis of Jewish melody and Cuban percussion dreams of roots that never were, yet it is convincing enough that one can imagine generations of conversos gathering in private to keep the ancient secrets of their culture alive. This sequel to El Danzon de Moises is less surprising but broader and happier, with touches of tango and gypsy dance. A MINUS TRIPLEPLAY Gambit (Clean Feed) The delta from Spaceways Inc. to Tripleplay is the replacement of Hamid Drake with Curt Newton, but switching bassist Nate McBride from electric to acoustic shifts the feel from funk to blues. Both moves make the band more intimate, and Ken Vandermark responds with some of his most thoughtful chamber jazz. Even if it was made up on the fly, which it largely was. A MINUS WARREN VACHÉ Dream Dancing (Arbors) The difference between this and 2Gether, the duo Vaché and Bill Charlap cut for Nagel Heyer in 2000, is the difference between a fine Danish modernist antique and an overstuffed easy chair. With bass and drums, Charlap eases back, and Vaché settles into his comfort zone. Now that he's too old to be called a young fogey anymore, maybe the notion that his genteel swing is retro should also be retired. A MINUS -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Additional Consumer News Honorable Mention ADAM PIERONCZYK Amusos PAO Free jazz as postmodern cool, an ether of saxes, bass, cello, beats, and voice where all that is solid melts into air. FIREHOUSE Live at Glenn Miller Café Ayler Jon Lindblom's punk-jazz guitar, with horns piled on because they're loud. MATS GUSTAFSSON/ SONIC YOUTH Hidros 3 (to Patti Smith) Smalltown Supersound A real-time mix of guitar noise and Mats's bull elephant contrabass sax, with Kim Gordon confessing her lack of fashion sense. PAAL NILSSEN-LOVE/KEN VANDERMARK Dual Pleasure 2 Smalltown Supersound Leftovers from last year's Dual Pleasure—abstract clarinet, avant-honk, drums. THE THING Garage Smalltown Superjazz Mats Gustafsson's heavier metal power trio undoes your new wave faves, then plays Brötzmann to relax. JAN GARBAREK In Praise of Dreams ECM Sax with strings, only Garbarek's such an ascetic he allows himself just one viola and a dash of percussion. PARADIGM SHIFT Shifting Times Nagel Heyer Less a throwback to the organ-guitar soul jazz of the '60s than an update, ready to cross over but not to beg. SATOKO FUJII TRIO Illusion Suite Libra With Mark Dresser and Jim Black, one long and three short pieces full of texture that escalates into energy. EDDIE GALE Afro-Fire Black Beauty Black rhythm's still happening, but these days Sun Ra gets filtered through Afrika Bambaataa. THE GREAT JAZZ TRIO Someday My Prince Will Come Eighty-Eights/Columbia Last chance to hear something new from Elvin Jones. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Duds HELEN MERRILL Lilac Wine Sunnyside BOB MINTZER BIG BAND Live at MCG With Special Guest Kurt Elling MCG Jazz STEVE SWALLOW/OHAD TALMOR SEXTET L'Histoire du Clochard: The Bum's Tale Palmetto KIM WATERS In the Name of Love Shanachie -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dud of the Month CHICK COREA ELEKTRIC BAND To the Stars (Stretch) The problem with fusion wasn't that good jazz was cheapened by crass rock and roll. The problem was that so many fusioneers were suckers for bad rock. Here Corea reconvenes his 1986-93 Elektric Band to power through a suite of pieces based on the L. Ron Hubbard sci-fi novel, and you can guess the rest: vintage space opera that Pink Floyd or Hawkwind wouldn't have played on acid, soundtrack melodramatics without visual cues, and a fresh coat of Jelly Roll's Famous Latin Tinge. C

The insight about Tony Williams and Miles, and Miles subsequent desire to keep the background in the background is an interesting way to look at that, Larry. I can dig that. Was just checking out the new "Yo Miles!" recording by Henry Kaiser and Wadada Leo Smith, it is called "Upriver," where they take on some of that post-Bitches Brew music, with Greg Osby, John Tchicai and Rova playing winds. Even in Leo's wildness there's still a sense of playing in front of a curtain of rhythm, as opposed to what Davis had going on in that 60's era quintet......

On the 11th, especially!

Yes. That's how he could fund the Brotzmann Tentet project, for one. Re: collaborations -- was glad to have Vandermark and Fred Anderson come to Michigan back in '95. That was Fred's first appearance in Michigan since 1966 when he played Detroit with Jarman's band. And Fred dominated that band (Kent Kessler, bass; Tim Mulvena, drums). He and Ken got into some real throw downs. At one point both of them honked out stacatto blasts in what sounded like a T-rex come to life. The sounds came at you like giant squares, just huge blocks of sound launched out of machine guns with 6 inch diameter barrels. About 180 people in a nice art gallery loft space. No amplification needed. Roscoe played there, too, with his Note Factory featuring Reggie Workman on bass, and that turned out to be Gerald Cleaver's "audition" with Mr. Mitchell. Fun. On Fred's return to Michigan (Grand Rapids) in 2002 with Roscoe Mitchell's Quartet the tables were turned and Roscoe took the lion's share of the attention, though Roscoe's band overall made an incredible impression (Craig Taborn, piano; Harrison Bankhead, bass; Vincent Davis, drums). Just heard Sonore recently in Kalamazoo, with Vandermark, Brotzmann and Gustaffson (sp) and that music benefitted from their ablility to play so many horns. This wasn't the balanced, based on string-quartet model the saxophone ensemble often comes from -- it was wilder, unpredictable, with Brotzmann the idea man in solo, both Ken and Mats responding with empathetic spontaneous accompaniments and turn on a dime dynamic shifts. What Ken has going on is that he is in BANDS that take their music out on the road and work it into shape. That sounds so trival, but in this day and age.... I suppose the repertory aspect of jazz has permeated the post-Ornette Coleman world of jazz, too, where players approach those developments as merely another style to be played "correctly."

Speaking of Marshall Alllen, looking forward to presenting he and Henry Grimes live on the radio Tuesday, March 8th at 10 p.m. on Blue Lake Public Radio, WBLV FM 90.3 and WBLU FM 88.9. The duo will be on tour then. Check your local listenings! (Acually, I'll post something in the live music section). Hoping to get Marshall to play "Over The Rainbow."

And, likewise, Larry I'm not knocking the North Side Chicago scene at all. There's some great energy there, some ambitiousness that seems to be stymied elsewhere, especially when it involves large ensembles such as the one you described. I remember one of those early nights when Vandermark played with the NRG Ensemble at the old Hot House. That was before Ken went home for three or four years to study and shed after the reception he got. But Hal's band provided the nucleus (did I spell that right?) for subsequent developments in Vandermark's career. And Hal had that "crossover" thing going on before those other bands you mentioned, didn't he? I mean, crossing over into the alt community playing his music but attracting those listeners.... For what it is worth the Vandermark 5 was one of the most together, on-point bands at Lester Bowie's farewell concert in Chicago those many years ago. He had orchestrated "New York Is Full of Lonely People" for the occasion and amid a lot of malarkey and posturing, Ken's segment seemed more focused on the music of Bowie than everything outside of Roscoe's band (which was marred by the sound man who couldn't seem to find Sco's mic and turn it up). In any case, though his solo style is more derivative than even Rempis, Ken's ensemble music has potential. That cut for Jack Montrose, "Full Deck," from "Simpatico" swayed me the first time I heard him play it live in Grand Rapids. Sure, the Brotzmann Tentet was nearly a theme-solo-theme band at the onset, which was a huge disappointment given the forces at hand, but they seemed to evolve a compositional framework that enlivened the solo sections with more interplay, counterpoint and textural "response" than when they started out. O.K. you guys go to bed. By the way, I brought Hal Russell's band with Mars to Grand Rapids around 86-87? It was after they played the Chicago Jazz Festival and did that Fred Astaire thing with the dancers. They couldn't afford to bring both dancers to Grand Rapids so the guy partnered up with a rubber blow up sex doll. That confused the hell out of many folks. Got them all into a woman's rights/treatment of women defensive posture, though had to let that down as it was really hilarious. Humor. Hal was The Lion Tamer (didn't Litweiler say that?). G'night guys. I'm staying up with the new Henry Grimes Trio Cd on Ayler Records with David Murray, Grimes and that wonderful Hamid Drake on drums....Listening to this I'd really like to hear this band with Fred Anderson instead of Murray. Hell, with Harrison Bankhead AND Henry Grimes.

Well, and for what it is worth, some of the young folks who are now on the scene Ken helped create haven't paid any real dues. The scene was there, and there are those who approach the bandstand as if it always will be. I mean, Ken's telling me about a violinist playing with a guitarist who uses a lap top for all his musical effects. Can't get the lap top to run, but doesn't leave the stage. A performance of frustration -- button pushing, failure, stomp on the ground, violinist brushes the bow over the strings half waiting, half playing, button pushing, stomping, and that's about as together as it ever got. Whatever you may think of Ken as a player, his organizational abilities, not just in terms of concerts and the scene but in terms of a vast array of bands and using the size of Chicago to reach across the ocean to the energy of creative music over there, is to be commended.

In Chicago you have guitarist Jeff Parker who, from what I've heard, isn't a b.s. - er. The jazz media is missing the scene in Chicago. Man, WNUR -- where else?

The comment about younger audiences at Free Jazz events might apply to New York, but would be cut from the Chicago Reader. Young alt audiences have been keeping that scene in beer for some time now. Even in Kalamazoo when the Brotzmann Tentet played Kraftbrau Brewery and all the college kids showed up to their usual alt rock beer hang, they flipped for the heterodox jazz.

Sounds like you'd have to be high just to look at those outfits. High as a 7 iron in Tiger Woods' backswing.

Isn't "Resolution" the second movement?

Well, whatever you do be sure to not make the song YOURS.

Hey! JSngry is quoted in Larry's book! In that section on Miles. Did you guys start that discussion here?

A Suitably Pyrotechnic Revisitation of Coltrane's Signature Testimony Branford Marsalis Quartet's Coltrane's A Love Supreme and Live in Amsterdam by Francis Davis January 25th, 2005 2:47 PM Branford gets it right. photo: Jazz at Lincoln Center Branford Marsalis Quartet Coltrane's A Love Supreme Live in Amsterdam Marsalis Music Released on both audio and video in one package, Branford Marsalis's live version of A Love Supreme gets it right. Coltrane's four-part suite was his religious testimony; Marsalis is chasing Coltrane, not salvation, but whereas his earlier attempt on Footsteps of Our Fathers left him panting, here he keeps pace with a display of saxophone pyrotechnics comparable to Coltrane's, though very different in character. His tone is lighter and his phrasing bluesier, especially on "Pursuance" (the second movement, and more or less Miles Davis's "Nardis" turned upside down), where his gradual ascent into the scream register shows he knows the difference between building to a climax and giving in to self-induced frenzy. And though his mano a mano with drummer Tain Watts is almost as brutal as Coltrane's with Elvin, some of the theme statements are so abstract ("Acknowledgement" 's, for example) that you recognize the familiar melodies only from Joey Calderazzo's piano chords. This is the Branford Marsalis we've been waiting for. He does honor to a classic while finally emerging as his own man.

Old School Two approaches to the dawning problem of expanding jazz repertoire, one of them novel by Francis Davis January 24th, 2005 4:13 PM Don Byron Symphony Space January 8 Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra A Love Supreme Palmetto Inasmuch as subcultures have a way of first surfacing via oddball chart hits, novelty and innovation can amount to the same thing in pop. Itself once a novelty, jazz is supposedly a different story now, protected from aberrations like fusion and frippery like smooth by a hundred years of evolution beginning with ragtime and continuing through . . . well, there's the catch. With evolution on hold since Coltrane, maybe novelty is our last hope. Or so I'm tempted to conclude after being blown away by Don Byron and the Sugar-hill Gang at Symphony Space earlier this month and left cold by Wynton Marsalis's big-band arrangement of Coltrane's A Love Supreme, the new CD by Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra. Admittedly, one thing has nothing to do with the other. But both Byron and Marsalis are tackling the problem of expanding the jazz repertoire beyond derivative "originals" and a handful of distressed standards, and Byron's more novel solution seems to me at least as valid as tweaking the canon—it all depends on the results. A typical jazz repertory concert resembles a college survey course, with the bandleader as prof. Even when Byron is comparing Earth, Wind & Fire to Schoenberg, as he did in introducing "Shining Star," his shows are more like mix tapes—a breezy assortment of stuff he enjoys and wants you to hear the way he does. Following a Stravinsky trumpet fanfare nobly delivered by James Zoller and Ralph Alessi, Byron's Symphony Space Adventures Orchestra—nine pieces plus singers DK Dyson and Gordon Chambers—covered EW&F, Henry Mancini, Sly & the Family Stone, and Herb Alpert. It didn't even matter whether you ever liked Earth, Wind & Fire or the Tijuana Brass. These sounds are part of our DNA, and the arrangements by Byron and his band members captured the panache of the original recordings. The fun was in listening for affinities in songs not usually included on the same playlists. Byron even took Mancini outside, cuing improvisers on "Futter's Ball" like a cross between Bugs Bunny and Butch Morris. Although he never touched his clarinet, he wailed on baritone over juking horns on "Let's Groove Tonight." Euphoria kicked in with what Byron, who grew up in the South Bronx around the time of Kool Herc, called "for me, the Kunta Kinte portion of tonight's concert"—Sugarhill Records revisited. Along with the West Street Mob's "Let's Dance," the band also did Sequence's "Here Comes the Bride" and Wayne and Charlie's "Check It Out," supposedly the only rap record by a ventriloquist and his dummy (talk about conceptual art!). This wasn't nostalgia, because obscurities like those last two, which few remember, appeal to memory only if there were such a thing as generic Sugarhill, which Byron conclusively proved there wasn't. What was novel about Sugarhill back in the day were the raps. Byron helped call attention to the boundless riffs and countermelodies behind the toasts and pilfered basslines. Yes, these were great party records, but they also turn out to be sturdy pop songs in the grand convention—for Chrissake, "Here Comes the Bride" even has a bridge. For the climax, he brought out Wonder Mike, Big Bank Hank, and Master Gee to do "Apache" and the inevitable "Rapper's Delight." With the horns pyramiding behind them, the Gang showed they still have it—especially the charismatic Wonder Mike, whose doofy rhymes about spoiled food and such always were nimbler than most scat singing, not to mention the sullen raps of today's truculent thugs. But there I go showing my age and/or my pallor. Back in '79, the dancers in the audience might have bum-rushed the stage. The women dancing in the aisles in this older and whiter crowd waited for Wonder Mike to wave them up, and by the end the stage looked like closing night of any recent Democratic National Convention. Again, so what? This music belongs to everyone now, including jazz performers who approach it honestly and respectfully. Reviewing a 2002 Symphony Space concert at which the Adventures Orchestra played only Sugarhill, Ben Ratliff of the Times objected that these were recordings that were never intended for live performance. Although I disagree on general principle, a vaguely similar objection could be raised against JALC's A Love Supreme, the original 1964 version of which even most of us old enough to have witnessed Coltrane in the flesh know only as a recording (he performed it in concert only once, at a French jazz festival the following year). Singular and totemic, A Love Supreme is unsuitable for big band because what's sacrificed if an arranger orchestrates Coltrane's solos for the entire saxophone section, as plenty have with Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young, is the sense of one man's quest being responsible for the work's urgency and religious aura. This doesn't stop Marsalis from pointlessly letting all the horns take turns with Coltrane's tenor chants on both "Acknowledgement" and "Psalm," the opening and closing movements. This isn't Marsalis's first A Love Supreme. His problem in 1993, when he performed the entire suite with a quartet featuring Elvin Jones at Lincoln Center, after recording a truncated version with Jones in Japan the previous year, was that spiritual to him meant churchy. But at least he sailed blithely over the opening movement's Latin cross-rhythms. Everything about this new version is misguided, despite the alert Eric Lewis-Carlos Henriquez-Herlin Riley rhythm section. Unlike in classical music, where a composer's score is regarded as definitive and the goal of interpretation is transparency, jazz takes it for granted that a musician will impose his own sensibility on the material he chooses. This being Wynton, Coltrane winds up sounding like Ellington, right down to the trombone wah-wah. But not even Wynton's crush on Duke explains the twee flutes. "Most of [Coltrane's] innovations were not in what was written, but in how his band played," Stanley Crouch points out in the liner notes. Exactly. So why bother revamping A Love Supreme? Because it's in the syllabus, I guess.