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Grover Washington Jr. At Masonic Temple

Grover Washington Jr. At Masonic Temple image Grover Washington Jr. At Masonic Temple image
Parent Issue
Day
6
Month
May
Year
1976
OCR Text

In some of the recent press accounts of George Wein's plans for the "Newport in New York" concerts this summer, someone - either Wein or the writer of the story - took, at best, a thoughtless (at worst, a vicious) swipe at Grover Washington, saying that the Festival this summer would be "pure jazz," and that various pop singers - and Grover Washington - would not be featured. Grover was dismissed as f he were some sort of rocker-come-lately pandering to popular taste, or perhaps an adequate R&B back-up man shoved out in front by his record producer to do cliche-ridden instrumental covers of the popular soul numbers of the day. Let's get rid of that notion right now.

Grover Washington is a primo jazz saxophonist reaching out from the dead center of the idiom and its traditions to a wide audience, utilizing the hip dance rhythms of the moment and smooth, tight production, both recorded and live. On record, Grover's warm tone and idiomatic phrasing are his most identifiable characteristics, along with the tight production and funky grooves. (Admittedly, some of his recorded improvisations have been less than memorable.) In live performance the ensemble is similarly tight, the grooves well-projected - but the whole story is about Grover, as a master of his horns (alto, tenor, and soprano saxophones) and as a dramatic musical personality. And the dominant impression, beyond what his recordings might suggest, is the breadth and depth of his expression, and the passion and sensitivity with which he plays.

Case in point: Sunday, April 11, at Masonic Temple. After opening with the trademark, "Mr. Magic" (a little faster than we've heard, and full of tenor heat), Grover switched to soprano for the most sensitively poetic version l've ever heard of the late Oliver Nelson's minor-key blues classic, "Stolen Moments." His dynamic flow made every phrase a heart-lifting experience, as he and the band would drop to a whisper and nuzzle at our ears, etc, and then rise to intense, (barely) contained energy. This sort of toying with our affections went on all night, and I must say I like being so well used by some music.

The modestly funky title tune of Grover's current album, "Feels So Good," segued into the Four Tops hit "People Make the World Go Round," and again the dynamic contrasts and ensemble sensitivity, along with Grover's passionate ingenuity, had the whole house going around in raptures. George Duke's "Malibu," a medium up-tempo slick rocker, was a vehicle for drummer Darryl Washington and the congas and other hip Afro-polyrhythmic percussion of the impressive Dr. Gibbs.

James Simmons' reserved piano opened next as the ensemble snuck into Grover's haunting presentation of his ballad, "Moonstreams." Simmons demonstrated his familiarity with McCoy Tyner's harmonic language on the acoustic piano, moving suavely to electric for Grover's closing statement.

Bassist Tyrone Brown, who had held us breathless through his beautiful "Stolen Moments" solo (he sometimes plays his Rickenbacker electric bass to sound remarkably like a huge acoustic bass violin), now got down and nasty with the (by now) familiar bass line to "Knucklehead" (featured along with Moonstreams" on the new LP). Again Grover brought his blistering "Texas Tenor" sound to the forefront. Grover is not from Texas, nor is Stanley Turrentine, but their playing, like that of David "Fathead" Newman, James Clay, Wilton Felder and other genuine Texans, is characterized by a richly funky phrasing concept and a full-bodied, hard-edged tone.

Grover's playing was all that and more as he did it to death on "Knucklehead", the real climax of the concert. It was followed by an intricately-filigreed exposition of Marvin Gaye's "What's Goin On" on the alto, and the concert concluded with the popular "Black Frost." The rhythm section sounded a bit hurried on these last two, and "What's Goin' On" lacked its customary lope, which perhaps had something to do with these being the last two tunes of what was apparently a fairly extended tour. Let me explain that statement:

The tight light and sound production enhanced Grover's show and contributed to making it a totally absorbing experience. (Special applause to the sound company, by the way- the high-energy passages were all clear, distinct, and undistorted, and the quiet spots came through without a nuance missing.) But the tightness, particularly in the light cueing, demands a pre-set routine. Playing the same eight songs, in the same order, with the same climaxes and transitions, night after night on a long tour can be something of a strain on the players' resources for keeping the music fresh and exciting. It can make spontaneity and conviction, the life blood of this music, more difficult to summon. It is to Grover's credit that his energy never lets up, and that his arrangements and ensemble dynamics maintain the suspense and soul-satisfying resolution that thrills his audiences.

Make no mistake about it, Grover Washington is a jazz artist, firmly rooted in the robust soulful tradition of Gene Ammons, with the fleet chops of Sonny Stitt and a healthy taint of the wizardry of Coltrane and the personal melodic phrasing of a Ben Webster or Sonny Rollins. He maintains the jazz drama and freshness even in the "travelling rock show" production format. But if one were to ask for more from his playing, it would be this: in the straight-ahead blowing with the rhythm section grooving, that kind of note-to-note, phrase-to-phrase suspense (Where on earth is he going? How is he going to resolve this craziness?), the sound of surprise which can be so electrifying, and which is the hallmark of the Giant who was at that very moment playing across town - Sonny Rollins.