Eric Dolphy, page 2
Dolphy claimed he wanted to make his horns talk, and the exact harmonic sequence of his solos has little to do with the appeal of hearing them. One reason Charles Mingus picked Dolphy for his band was because of the vivid vocal quality of his saxophone playing. Mingus was a bit of a literalist. In "What Love" (recorded in 1960 but not for Prestige) Mingus and Dolphy recreate an argument, affectionately resolved, between them, and their bickering through their instruments is a joy to hear. All of Dolphy's best work has this singing quality -- yearning and laughing stretches broken by harsh tones that never impede the forward roll of his thoughts. If Dolphy lacks the relentless searching quality of Coltrane or the flair for beauty-amidst-chaos of Coleman, he is a more disciplined poet than either, and perhaps a more classic modernist.
"The Complete Prestige Recordings" is a big, expensive chunk to bite off for a Dolphy beginner, but it will hold up for anyone who claims to be a half-serious fan of modern jazz. The ideal starting point is the unaccompanied bass clarinet treatment of Billie Holiday's "God Bless the Child" on disc nine. In the course of six- and-a-half faultless minutes, Dolphy covers the original outline of the song with dazzling Cubist angles and refractions. Very "outside," it's never merely wild. The same can be said for "The Prophet," part of a tremendous in-concert band showcase that incorporates all of the celebrated Live at the Five Spot tracks. Dolphy shines in the company of the equally adventurous trumpeter Booker Little, and Dolphy's first solo on "The Prophet," though filled with seeming shrieks and holy cries, uses firm technique to take risks. Underpinning everything is the unmistakable drumming of Ed Blackwell, a Coleman associate who's always the essence of brains and funk.
"The Complete Prestige" also includes Dolphy highlights like "Far Cry," featuring Booker Little and almost as exciting as the Five Spot numbers, and Dolphy's breakthrough as a leader, "Out There," with its eerie cello work from famed bassist Ron Carter. The box gathers probing albums by others with strong Dolphy features: Oliver Nelson's "Straight Ahead" and, especially, Mal Waldron's overlooked "The Quest." But even all these can't cover Dolphy's prodigious activity at the time.
While he recorded for Prestige, Dolphy played on such jazz monuments as Ornette Coleman's "Free Jazz," George Russell's "Ezz- thetics" and, just after Prestige, "John Coltrane's Live at the Village Vanguard." Dolphy took a long break as a leader after leaving Prestige, working on such wondrous but little-known albums as Andrew Hill's "Point of Departure. " Dolphy's absolute timeless masterpiece under his own name, "Out to Lunch," dates from this later period. Perhaps, given more time, he would have led a sterling band such as the one on that Blue Note album. Up to the very end, even as his unsuspected diabetes felled him in Europe, his solos on "Last Date" show he was finding deeper, richer combinations.
Dolphy speaks his most famous lines after the final notes of "Last Date": "When you hear music, after it's over, it's gone in the air. You can never capture it again." His magnificent 9-CD box alone proves this is not so, but the remarks are usually applied to Dolphy's premature departure. And indeed, his like will never be captured again.