Music

"I listen to musicians. Pure, honest-to-God musicians! And shit, I'm not interested in what the trend is here, or what the trend is there." The vehement speaker was legendary drummer Elvin Jones in response to a question inquiring to which musicians on the current scene he was listening? The unswerving sense of pride and direction revealed by his answer has been honestly brought.

Elvin worked through the mid and late Fifties with such jazz luminaries as Charles Mingus, pianist Bud Powell, tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins, and with Miles Davis. In April of 1960 Elvin got the call to work with John Coltrane's original quartet. The following psychedelic six-year stint is the one that affixed Elvin's immortality. He was a never ending source of high-energy for the group. As Coltrane explained, after Elvin had left the unit, "There's always got to be somebody with a lot of power. [He] was ready from the first time I heard him, you know, I could hear the genius there."

EIvin's stay two weeks ago at Detroit's Savoy, the fine music club located in Shelby Hotel, was a triumphant homecoming. The young drummer, born and raised in Pontiac, had gotten his grits together in the Motor City, which at !he time was one of the most happening scenes in the country. On this Friday night the house was packed with dozens of-well-wishing relatives and many just-as-ecstatic jazz fiends related to each other by nothing more, and nothing less than their love of the music.

The "pure, honest-to-God" musicians Elvin had brought with him were Jr. Cook, long time reedman with pianist/composer Horace Silver and with trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie: Roland Prince, who'd spent some time gigging with Ornette Coleman's unit, including an astounding performance at the Ann Arbor Blues and Jazz Festival 1973; and David Williams, another in the seemingly endless chain of genius bass players around these days.

The band's first tune, "Lord Jesus, Think On Me," was mostly a warmup, notable for Elvin's sly, stamming drum work-out. He grinned his way through the tune, and really, through most of the set.

"Yesterdays," an old Jerome Kern standard and favorite of Elvin's was played next, a request from his family. Jr. Cook contributed a solid, if unadventurous, tenor solo and it was up to Williams to blow the crowd away with an extended bass blaiz, which he did, both arco and Pizzicato.

Cook and Prince stated in unison the pretty, funky melody "Giraffe." Prince took a thoughtful, blues solo that owed quite a bit to both Kenny Burrell and Wes Montgomery, and which included the man's own humorous inventions. Cook was finally pushed to near distraction by Elvin, and then the leader himself took us all the way out for five frenzied minutes as he mercilessly, gracefully, assaulted the battery.

The set concluded with one of William's tunes, "Antigua." The Calypso-like number was the first really up-tempo one of the evening. Everybody was hot and Elvin relentlessly floated the group home.

At the close, he faces us, agleam with sweat and positive vibrations and said "When I get to playing around here", it's a wonderful feeling," Damn near every face turned toward the great Mr. J. mirrored his smile.

Bill Adler