Tag Archives: jerrygarcia

Essential 1980s Jazz/Rock Albums (Part 1)

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1980s jazz/rock generally gets the side-eye these days.

But it wasn’t all the Chick Corea Elektric Band prancing around the stage in tracksuits or pitiful WAVE-style smooth jazz.

The 1970s jazz/rock pioneers were mostly going strong and if some were too tempted by synths and drum machines, the best music was made by sticking pretty rigorously to the tried-and-tested real drums/bass/guitar/keys lineup favoured by Miles, Weather Report, Return To Forever et al.

So here’s a selection of 1980s jazz/rock albums that have consistently gripped movingtheriver, most of which he queued up to buy at the HMV or Virgin Megastore, or found in an Our Price bargain bin. (These are not proggy or funky. So no Herbie, Brecker Brothers, David Sanborn or David Torn, but there are elements of R’n’B/Latin/soul/whatever mixed in with the jazz).

Bireli Lagrene: Foreign Affairs (1988)
Just 21 years old when he recorded it with producer Steve Khan, the French guitarist’s second Blue Note album is a cohesive gem and massive improvement on the debut, with terrific contributions from keyboardist Koono and drummer Dennis Chambers.

Ornette Coleman: Virgin Beauty (1988)
One of the most ‘accessible’ albums of the master’s career, with memorable melodies, a brilliantly expressive bassist (Al McDowell) and some decidedly odd guest appearances from Jerry Garcia.

Tribal Tech (Scott Henderson/Gary Willis): Nomad (1988)
Recorded in April 1988 but not released until early 1990, guitarists were rightly wowed by Henderson’s brilliance, a mixture of Michael Brecker, Allan Holdsworth and Stevie Ray Vaughan, while the rhythm section is groovy and propulsive and both Henderson and Willis’s compositions are excellent. And ‘Tunnel Vision’ may feature the perfect guitar solo…

John McLaughlin: Mahavishnu (1984)
OK there are some question marks in the keyboard and sax departments, and a few mediocre tracks, but Billy Cobham has rarely sounded better and John contributes three or four classic compositions and a few brilliant solos to this reunion album of sorts.

Marc Johnson’s Bass Desires: Second Sight (1987)
Wonderful interplay between guitarists John Scofield and Bill Frisell, plus some classic compositions including Scofield’s surf-rock-meets-jazz ‘Twister’, Frisell’s Monk-like ‘1951’ and Johnson’s moving ‘Hymn For Her’.

Larry Carlton: Last Nite (1987)
Guitarists of all stripes were blown away by Carlton’s playing in the 1980s, and here’s the best evidence, captured live at LA’s Baked Potato club with Alex Acuna, Abe Laboriel and JR Robinson.

Human Chain: Cashin’ In (1988)
This Brit jazz/rock classic, released on EG Records, had elements of the Canterbury sound, West Coast cool jazz, English folk music and 1980s Weather Report, featuring Django Bates’ fantastic keys and French horn and some weirdly impressive guitar and fretless bass from Stuart Hall (who he?). Also injects a healthy dose of much-needed humour to the ’80s jazz world.

Hiram Bullock: Give It What U Got (1988)
All the fun of the fair from this gifted but troubled guitarist: raunchy funk/rock, instrumental Steely Dan, Brecker Brothers horns, classic fusion and an Al Jarreau guest appearance on a Sam Cooke tune, but all shot through with jazz chords and Hiram’s lyrical playing.

Ronald Shannon Jackson: Mandance (1982)
Ornette-style harmolodics and Mingus-like ensemble work meet NYC punk-jazz on the drummer’s intriguing and powerful album, recorded live in the studio, featuring future Living Colour axeman Vernon Reid.

Weather Report: Sportin’ Life (1985)
It was a toss-up between this and Night Passage, both classics, but this gets the nod courtesy of the newly-minted rhythm section of Omar Hakim and Victor Bailey, plus a few classic Wayne Shorter tunes including ‘Face On The Barroom Floor’ which reportedly Joni Mitchell was particularly smitten by.

Wayne Shorter: Atlantis (1985)
Wayne again, fronting this fascinating, complex song-cycle featuring Alex Acuna on drums and Joni’s husband Larry Klein on bass. Takes some time to digest, but like a good wine gets better every year.

Allan Holdsworth: Secrets (1989)
A toss-up between this and Metal Fatigue, this gets in because of his delicious guitar tone and the inspired contributions of drummer Vinnie Colaiuta – ‘City Nights’, ‘Spokes’, ‘Peril Premonition’ and ‘Joshua’ are musical landmarks. Fiery, exciting, unmissable.

Steps Ahead: Modern Times (1984)
Messrs Brecker, Erskine, Mainieri, Gomez and Bernhardt were embracing some new technology but they never let it overshadow the mostly excellent compositions with telling solos, particularly from Brecker.

John Scofield: Still Warm (1985)
Take your pick between this, Blue Matter and Loud Jazz, all fantastic pieces of work, but Still Warm gets the nod courtesy of its dynamite rhythm section (Darryl Jones and Omar Hakim) and arguably John’s best writing of the ’80s.

Mike Stern: Upside Downside (1986)
Produced by Hiram Bullock and featuring a crack band including Dave Weckl on drums, it showcases Stern’s finest/fieriest playing on record to date and also one of Jaco Pastorius’s last notable appearances. Still the best Stern solo album and quite extreme in its own way.

(If you’re new to any of these albums and they float your boat, please consider buying physical copies to support the artists.)

Book Review: The Speed Of Sound by Thomas Dolby

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A cursory survey of Dolby’s musical career reveals that he’s a pivotal figure by any standards, collaborating with Prefab Sprout, Stevie Wonder, Eddie Van Halen, Jerry Garcia, George Clinton, Herbie Hancock, Trevor Horn, David Bowie, Def Leppard, Joni Mitchell…

And that’s not even factoring in the excellent solo albums and technological innovations (he created the software for the first popular mobile ringtones).

So if it’s pithy, musicianly anecdotes and the bittersweet memories of an Englishman (mostly) abroad you’re after, his enjoyable autobiography ‘The Speed Of Sound’ certainly does the business. But, as we’ll see, it’s very much a book of two halves.

A music-and-technology-mad teenager, Thomas Morgan Robertson first builds up his performing chops during a lengthy period of busking in Paris, finding out quickly that playing ‘Stairway To Heaven’ is the only way to make any money.

Returning to London, he’s in the right place at exactly the right time and on the verge of launching his solo career when summoned across the pond to work on Foreigner 4.

Christened ‘Booker T Boofin’ by the AOR legends for his considerable efforts, it nonetheless turns out to be a not entirely edifying entrée into the world of mega-bucks recording.

Then there’s solo-artist fame in the US, tempered by difficult video shoots, stage fright and the occasional debilitating panic attack. He’s summoned by Michael Jackson to come up with a few new post-Thriller tunes. It doesn’t end well.

His tours are well-attended but lose money and his second major single release ‘Hyperactive’ and attendant solo album The Flat Earth flatline partly due to dodgy record company ‘accounting’.

It’s a chastening experience; he focuses more on production work in the mid-’80s and any fans of Prefab’s Steve McQueen and Joni Mitchell’s Dog Eat Dog will find loads to enjoy here.

But Dolby inadvertently locks horns with Joni and finds himself sending in keyboard parts and arrangement ideas from Jenny Agutter’s spare room. Only in LA…

We get the inside story of his appearance with David Bowie’s at Live Aid (with only three short rehearsals), hear about a hilarious fishing trip with George Clinton and a memorable serenading by Stevie Wonder in a studio broom cupboard.

Then there’s an enjoyable detour into the world of movie soundtracks, ‘hanging out’ with George Lucas and meeting the love of his life in LA. By the early ’90s, we’re deep in ‘Spinal Tap’ territory when Dolby has amusingly mystifying dealings Eddie Van Halen and Jerry Garcia.

So far so good. But the second half of ‘Speed Of Sound’ focuses on Dolby’s lengthy sojourn in Silicon Valley. Depending on your taste, this will either be a trial or treat. I skipped large chunks of it.

I wanted a lot more music and a lot less tech, and you sometimes get the feeling Dolby did too throughout that period (he frequently laments the fact that his more ‘personal’ music on Aliens Ate My Buick and Astronauts & Heretics failed to find an audience).

The other issue – hardly Dolby’s fault of course – is that everyone seems to be writing a memoir these days and it only emphasises the dearth of decent recent music. And slightly lessens the mystique of the best ’80s material. I’d trade one more decent Dolby solo album for any number of ‘Speed Of Sound’s… But it’s still a very enjoyable read.

‘The Speed Of Sound’ is published now by Icon Books.

Dolby discusses the book here.