It just sucks that Tony died so early...

[benrand]

Elvin is still alive, amazingly.

[FuseU1]

I 1st heard Tony in the mid-to-late 80's...[because i was already a few yrs. into drumming, i had known of his rep & stature in the world of music, but i hadnt heard his actual drumming until this time, a few yrs later]...

What started me in drumming was the radio pop & rock stuff. Then "most fateful day" #1 - PEART/Rush w the release of Spirit Of Radio/Perm. Waves, PHIL w Genesis Duke, SMITH w Journey, ALEX w Van Halen, & BRUFORD/White w YES [which then prompted me to find earlier albums by these bands].

I then meet a guy in the local popular music store at that time in '81 or 2 who's a gtrst; he's into Rush too, & turns me on to HOLDSWORTH [w CHAD & HUSBAND], RETURN TO 4EVER [LENNY, STANLEY, AL, & CHICK], COBHAM [w MO, & solos], & more of the followg... GILES [& then BRUFORD] w Crimson, more Yes, ROD w the Dregs, Palmer w ELP, GADD w Chick & PSimon, Tull [BARLOW, Bunker, D Perry, etc], Kansas, J BERLIN W SCOTT HENDERSON & S SMITH, CASEY [& later Griffin & Emory] w JLPonty [esp. the Live Dec. '79 alb; & i would later see Griffin, Baron Browne, & Henderson w the Stanley Clarke Band], SIMON/RBailey w JBeck, TBOZ w UK/Mssg Prsns, JEFF w Toto, & SMITH again w Vital Info. [fatefulL "day" #2].

...I go to see SS/VI live in a local club here ATT, & am blown away. The power went out about 5-6 times during the show that eve, so Smith takes a solo over the vamp that was happenin' right b4 it goes, each time. Burnin'. Aft the show, the saxist, Dave Wilczewski, takes me up to the "band room," where i get to meet Stv, Tim L, & T Coster, & run into a few of my buddies/the town's local hot players hangin' out...

...Smith also talks of Tony...

...I also read of Husband speakg of his huge Tony influence, & Allan saying how that to him "Gary sounds like he was influenced heavily by Tony much of the time in his approach"...

Then comes MOST FATEFUL day #3 in '84, sometime btwn Apr-May[?] '84 w this drums/bass clinic. I had seen where this was coming to a local popular music store at that time; the drummer was a Zappa alumnus [the bassist, from Billy's Glass menagerie & Vital Info, altho i didnt know this yet]...i knew enough to know that Zappa has the best musicians, & a gtrst friend of mine let me come over to hear his copy of Zappa's Shut Up- to see if i'd dig this "new" drummer [i was going regardless]. What i heard on that record absolutely BLEW ME AWAY; some of it WAY OVER MY HEAD ATT.

I went to the clinic...this guy was warming up b4hand & kicking some MAJOR MULE, & doing these blazing R & L 1-handed singles betwn hand & kick, just to name 1 of the many ridiculously amazing things he was doing [u know youre impressed by the lix back then [img]wink.gif[/img] ], NTM the balz w which he was playg...& he talked about TONY being a MAJOR influene.

His name is, of course, VINNIE.

Afterwards, I was telling another friend about what i'd just witnessed, & how this cat Vinnie wasted me & spoke of TONY. So he tells me a friend of his from work just gave him a copy of Lifetime. So, i make a cassette tape copy from his taped copy. The 1st tune i hear is "Fred." Holey Shiftin' Sands. I hear Vinnie. And some Stv Smith in there. [...even tho it's actually the other way around [img]wink.gif[/img] ] I "hear snapshots of an Important Part of the Evolution of Drumming." I remember being on the beach of the apts. that i lived in w said buddy, & my GF-ATT...we indulged in a little "experimental" splif [it never really did that much for me other than eventually make me hungry, sleepy, & paranoid, & not necessarily in that order; we all did some dumb things "back then"], & a coupla breu-har-hars [a little libationatory indulgence]...i remember burnin that "boom box" [w "Xtreme/Xtra-Bass" & "Stereo WIDE!"] out on "Fred" & "Proto Cosmos" that day [but ESP. FRED]...I freaked out on Tony, Pasqua, Allan, & Newton on that sunny afternoon...said GF was mad that i didnt pay her more attention that day [img]wink.gif[/img] ...

[At this time [Apr '84] I also picked up the copy of ModDrumr, which had Peart on the cover w his red Tamas. Jeff had a "soundsheet" of "Slipping Away, pt. 2" in it; there was a "Who reads MD - everybody" ad w a photo of Krampf, Vinnie, Blaine, & Keltner; it also had the "Up 'n' Coming" [drummer] sect'n article, by Scott K. Fish - about some guy playg w Simon & Garfunkel named...

...DAVE WECKL.

...I still have that issue.

Then, the 4th MOST FATEFUL day - i was in a local popular music store a yr. or so later & heard them playg CCEB1, which promptly made me go out & buy the album, & go see them live because they actually came thru town in support of it.]

There's a lot more, of course, but these are the majors of the majors.

With all these happenings, i just haven't been the s-s-s-same s-s-s-since.

TONY came in [super-]clinic w CHAMBERS, VIRG, & others, in '96 or 7...i was OOT/OTR gigging, & had to miss it...it would turn out to be the only time that i COULD'VE had the opp to see Tony live. /:=(

PS - I missed ELVIN the last time around...hope i dont live to regret that one [img]eek.gif[/img]

...& yes, it DOES "blow" that Tony had to go, AWA Jeff, Carlos, Bonham, Guerin, & any of the others who left us too early [altho some of them left us KICKIN all the way - u know what i mean]...we all only get so much time here, & none of us know exactly when that time is up...a small consolation is that they left us w a wealth of recorded history, from these giants...respect & appreciate it while u can, while u r still here in this world...

At least we still have our other faves still alive & kickin', & burnin.' Too many to name; we all know who they r...

This topic kinda brought out the "memorabilia-melancholia" in me.

Sorry about the novel.

<font color="#a62a2a" size="1">[ January 25, 2004 02:00 PM: Message edited by: FuseU1 ]</font>

[beats]

Tony is and always be my favorite.

Damn he would have been 58 now going on 59 this year.

Pure Genius

...........................beats

[FlamTriplet]

<font color="#a62a2a" size="1">[ January 25, 2004 08:46 PM: Message edited by: FlamTriplet ]</font>

[FlamTriplet]

[beats]

A friend,ironically enough,just sent this to me 2day,havent read it b4:

Tony Williams: Still The Rhythm Magician
"I wouldn't change anything that I've done because it's all brought me to where I am. And where I am is a good place to be."
Perhaps more than any drummer over the past 30 years, Tony Williams has epitomized that incessant drive towards newness of expression on his chosen instrument. For him, change has been a necessary and vital ingredient to his evolution as an artist, whether it has come through the music of Art Blakey and Max Roach, or from playing with such key figures as Sam Rivers, Gil Evans, Eric Dolphy, Jackie McLean, and Cecil Taylor.

But it was his six-year tenure with Miles Davis, beginning in 1963, that set him apart forever in the annals of jazz drumming. With cohorts Ron Carter and Herbie Hancock, Williams completed one of the greatest rhythm sections of all time. It was with Davis that his new vision for drumming was showcased; lightning-fast cymbal work, displaced accents, polyrhythmic irregularities that served as drum solos as well as rhythmic accompaniment, and a bullet snare working in tandem with a sizzling hi-hat and jabbing bass drum. Williams helped to disconnect drumming from its timekeeping role (akin to Kenny Clarke's innovation 25 years earlier), emphasizing meterless percussive sounds over a steady beat. With the Davis quintet, which also included Wayne Shorter, Williams greased the wheels that turned an exceptional band into one that became known for, among other things, their uncanny ability to listen and dialog with one another. Perhaps most significant, Tony Williams was the percussive bridge for Davis as he moved his music beyond acoustic jazz into the various realms of electronic funk and fusion. Pioneering colleagues they were.

And since he has continued to play in a variety of musical contexts, The Tony Williams School of Drumming, as a matter of course, has included as part of its curriculum the realization "that drumming is more important than style." This becomes very apparent when one considers his immediate forays into alternative post-sixties jazz. His musical conceptions included explosive rock-rhythms and helped to set the standards for seventies jazz fusion with an assortment of new sounds; all of which involved electric music with, at one time or another, such key figures as John McLaughlin, Larry Young, Jack Bruce, and Allan Holdsworth.

As the seventies began to wind down, and into the early eighties, Williams reemerged in more trad-jazz settings -- playing and recording with the celebrated VSOP quintets (Miles' mid-sixties band minus Miles plus Freddie Hubbard or Wynton Marsalis), with Hank Jones and Ron Carter as a trio, and with Sonny Rollins. In 1985, he appeared in the movie 'Round Midnight,' playing alongside such jazz greats as Dexter Gordon and his fellow Davis alums as well as contributing to the soundtrack recording.

Also in '85, Williams formed a new straightahead jazz quintet that has proven to be an excellent forum for his ongoing writing and production talents in addition to his ever-growing drum work. The band has gone on to record three well-received albums and has toured worldwide on a number of occasions. Except for the change at bass of Bob Hurst for Charnett Moffett, the lineup remains Mulgrew Miller on piano, trumpeter Wallace Roney, and Billy Pierce on saxophones.

Looking rather dapper, Mr. Williams dropped hints of future excursions into the unknown -- to places probably just as discontinuous as previous musical dwellings. They were hints that may prove to be windows onto other musical vistas only he knows the looks of, for now.

John Ephland: What was it that steered you in the direction to play the drums?

Tony Williams: What do you mean? Drums; it's a great instrument. My father would take me with him to all these different engagements that he had. So, I was just drawn to the drums. I would sit in the audience when I was a kid and just watch the drummer. And I'd look at the drummer doin' what he did, and I remember the feeling I had, which was, "If he can do that, I know I can do that."

JE: That's something you can't teach somebody.

TW: No, that's just something you know. Children are like that. They don't fear; they don't have the experience to fear things. So, when I was nine, I asked my dad one night if I could sit in with the band. And so, the first time I played the drums was in front of an audience.

JE: You made important connections with Sam Rivers and Jackie McLean. Tell me about your experiences with them.

TW: What happened was, Alan Dawson -- the only person I took [private] lessons from, basically for reading -- was teaching at Berklee. I was too young to go there, and never did, actually.

JE: How long a period of time was that?

TW: On and off for about a year, year-and-a-half. So, there was a club that he played at, the Mt. Auburn Club 47 in Boston, in Cambridge. My dad brought me out to the club and asked him to listen to me. Alan would let me, as part of his show, sit in on a couple of tunes each night. Then a guy named Leroy Fallana, a piano player asked me to join his band. I was about 14 or 15. He hired me, Sam Rivers, and a bass player named Jimmy Towles.

JE: What kind of music did you play?

TW: It was basically straightahead stuff. Leroy was more of a soul, kind of Horace Silver-type of piano player. That was when I started to go around Boston by myself. I didn't need my dad to take me around anymore. I started playin' dates, playin' casuals and things like that. Then around '62 -- to leap, 'cause there were a lot of things happening -- I had been playing in a club called Connelly's, as part of a house rhythm section; a club where they would hire a name horn player to come in from New York for a week. He would play with the house rhythm section. So this one week, Jackie McLean came to Boston. We played the weekend and during the week. He started liking the way I played and invited me to come back to New York with him. When he asked me, I said, "Yeah sure, I'd love to, but you'll have to ask my mom." He came over, and said he would look out for me. She said it was okay. I lived in his house in New York for a couple of months. That was something I had wanted to do for a long time. I mean, I was dyin' to get out of Boston and get to New York. My mom's involvement and Jackie's kindness to my family really helped. I was 16 at the time. So, Jackie was the reason for me to really get to where I am. I imagine I would have gotten to New York eventually, but that was what happened. He was the link.

JE: But prior to this point, you were doing some interesting things with Sam Rivers. Tell me about that.

TW: When we had a band with Sam, we were doing a lot of Third Stream, which meant at the time a combination of jazz players playing avant-garde music. This was the late fifties, early sixties. We were playing with this chamber group [The Boston Improvisational Ensemble], doing things in the afternoons where they had cards and numbers and you're playing to time, watches, and big clocks; playing behind poetry, all kinds of stuff. But I was also playing with trios and cocktail parties, having to do the regular kinds of things -- sorority and fraternity parties. One time I played a fraternity party that was supposed to be a beach party, but it was the dead of winter; so it was indoors, in the downstairs area of the house, and they brought in all this sawdust to simulate sand on the beach. So I'm sitting there with my drums and there's the sawdust, and everytime I hit the bass drum it slides 'cause there's all this sawdust on a wood floor. (Laughs.)

JE: What were the conditions around which you moved to New York and were eventually asked to join Miles' band?

TW: I guess I'd been in New York about four or five months, working with Jackie; we were playing different things around New York and Brooklyn. We played a concert at some hall in midtown Manhattan, and Miles came in with Philly Joe Jones; and that's where he heard me. I think Jackie had been talking to Miles and maybe he had mentioned that he had a new band and said, "Come hear the band." A month later, I got a call from Grachan Moncur, the trombone player; his girlfriend at the time was the secretary for Miles' lawyer, and they were looking for me. And so, I pick up the phone and Grachan says, "Did Miles call you today? He's lookin' for you." And I said, "Yeah, sure. Right. Give me a break." He responded, "No, really. Hang up the phone. He's trying to get in touch with you. He's in California, man." So we get off the phone and Miles ends up calling from California, and he wanted to know could we get together when he got back -- he'd be back in a couple of weeks. And, I was more than happy, because at the time, Miles was my biggest influence musically. I was just in love with his music, his bands.

When I was in Boston -- to get back a bit -- in 1960, '61, he came to Boston, and a year earlier I had met Jimmy Cobb. So when they came to town, it was my first time to see Miles Davis' band. It was the band with Hank Mobley and Wynton Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy. And so, when they did come, I asked Jimmy if I could sit in with Miles, being my usual pest again. [Laughs.] And he said, "You'll have to ask Miles." So, having no fear, being still basically a child, I ran up on stage after the set through the curtains to the back, and caught Miles as he was goin' somewhere. And I said, "Miles," I mean, "Mr. Davis, can I sit in with your band? I already asked Jimmy." And Miles turned around and said, "Go back, sit down, and listen." So that was the first time I met Miles.

JE: At the same time, you were starting to put out some albums as a leader.

TW: My first record was in '64. It was the first record that Blue Note had ever made of free, avant-garde music [Life Time]. I think they wanted me to make a record. I wanted to make a record, and by that time I guess, because I was so adamant about what I wanted to do, they were willing to take the chance.

JE: You wanted to play free music, not the straightahead stuff?

TW: Yeah. I mean, what's been important to me is to show diversity in different things, and to show different colors of things. I mean, if I'm working with a band, it sounds one way; and then I'm recording with other people and it sounds another way, then why not -- if I get the chance to do something of my own -- do a third thing? That makes sense to me. That's logical because it gives me a chance to, number one, show that I can do that, and secondly, it brings a fresh sound to the ear of people who have heard me do the other two things.

JE: And it was consistent with some of the music you'd done before.

TW: Right, before that. And, you know, when I was in Boston, playin' with Sam, one of the things that really opened my ears was the first time I heard Ornette Coleman. That first record I heard -- I think it was Change of the Century -- was just unbelievable, the impact it made on me. This was about 1959, 1960.

JE: So it planted a seed?

TW: Yeah. That music was the way to go, for me, at that time.

JE: It seems to be a trademark of Miles' bands over the years to let his drummers have a real strong personality. What was it like when you started playing with him? Did he guide you in your drumming?

TW: He didn't say anything. I mean, he hired me because of the way I sounded; so what was there to say?JE: And you appreciated the fact that he didn't tell you what to play?

TW: No, I didn't think about it. At the time, I didn't notice it.

JE: You just played as if it were your own band?

TW: No, I played what I thought was most appropriate. And that's what I always do. I mean, if I play with Blossom Dearie, and she's singing, I'm playing behind her; I'm not playing behind, you know, Wayne Shorter. I always try to play what's appropriate for the situation.

JE: If anybody's paid any attention to you, they know that.

TW: Right. If you pay attention, you know that I can sound very different depending on who I'm playing with; which is what I like to do.

JE: Which is different, wouldn't you say, than someone from the Max Roach or Art Blakey school; or the Philly Joe Jones school?

TW: Yeah. If you're gonna pick just one style of playing and you can only play that way, that's what you want to do.; I don't discourage that; but I think that drumming is more important than style. When I've given lessons or clinics, I try to emphasize that learning how to play the drums is more important than having your own style; really knowing what the drums can do and the scope and range of the instrument is more important. You know the reason I play the way I do is because when I first started playing, all I ever wanted to do was to sound like Max Roach, was to sound like Art Blakey, was to sound like Philly Joe Jones, was to sound like Louis Hayes, was to sound like Jimmy Cobb, was to sound like Roy Haynes. I really wanted to figure out why they sounded the way they did. I wasn't interested in my own style. So, I set about playing like these guys religiously, and playing their style because it was just such a wonderful, magical experience. I don't see that kind of wonder in others. I get guys comin' up to me -- they just got a drum set, they've been playin' maybe four years -- and they want their own style. They want to be expressive. I say, "Well, then, if you want to be expressive, you gotta find out what the instrument will do. And to do that, you gotta go back and find out and get an idea of what's already been done."

That's what the instrument's all about. It's the instrument that's more important, the quality and the magic of the instrument are more important than you are. That's one phrase I always use. You know, people use the instrument to make themselves look good. They just want to be able to tell some girl, "I'm a drummer." So anyway, it wasn't as if Miles was letting me do something. Like I said, I knew all his music, I knew every track off all his records. So, on the first date that we played, we went up and played a live date with no rehearsal; he just got the band together -- Ron, George Coleman, Herbie, and myself -- and we went up to, I think it was, Boden College in upstate New York, and we just stomped off the first tune. That was May of '63. I think the first tune was "Walkin'." And after that first set, Miles came off stage and gave me a huge hug; didn't say anything. I'll never forget that.

JE: What did you learn from playing with Miles?

TW: Well, I think basically, the things that I learned from Miles were all in the social area. [Laughs.] One of the things that is most obvious, if you've ever been in a band like Miles', is the way he lets things develop. See, the thing is, if he hires people who are really good, that's what he wants them to be; he wants them to be as good as they are and get better. Most people -- I've noticed in other musicians who will remain nameless but are famous -- will hire a guy that's really good, but they get upset if the audience thinks that they're really good. They don't see it the other way, where if the guy is getting great applause and he's making the audience happy, that reflects on the bandleader. They see it some other kind of way, some weird way, like they're being pushed aside or something, they're threatened, or competition, or something. And that's the beauty, one of the wonderful things about Miles in that he wants those people, he hires you and gets good combinations of musicians together so that they can make this music which then again reflects on him, his judgment.

JE: Going a bit further, your interest in rock rhythms, as you began your departure from Miles' band, caused me to think about some of your early influences. What was it that drew you to rock music, and how come jazz got in there before you could become a rhythm & blues or blues drummer?

TW: Good question. The reason is that because in 1954 and '55, the only interesting things about playing music were in jazz. Jazz was more adventurous. In 1954, you had The Everly Brothers, who I loved, Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers; you had Elvis, you had all these kinds of things in the pop world. But, there were no Bands. Drumming was not something that was exciting in that kind of music.

JE: But wasn't the beat becoming more pronounced?

TW: No, the beat was not becoming more pronounced. What I'm saying is, if I wanted to be a drummer, if I wanted to play music, I looked to where they were playing music; and that was the music of jazz, where guys are actually playing the drums and not just playing beats. Playing beats is one thing; that's not drumming. So, I'm coming home from school and listening to American Bandstand just like all the rest of the kids in my class. But there's no drumming going on. So, the way for me to get into music is to listen to this other music, where there's some interesting drumming going on. Plus, the music my father had around the house was of Count Basie, Gene Ammons, that kind of music. So, by the time the late sixties come along, the middle sixties, there's this music happening where the drums are really startin' to really pound.

JE: Who were some of the people playing then that caught your interest?

TW: The two biggest groups, I thought, were Cream and Jimi Hendrix's band. But before that, I was in love with The Beatles. I was a real Beatle fanatic. When I was with Miles, I had an apartment in New York with a Beatles poster up on my wall. When you walked in the front door, it was staring you right in the face. And in '65, I told Miles, "Miles, we oughtta do a tour with the Beatles; we oughtta open up for them." He said, "What?" We were still wearing suits and ties to these gigs, and I'm telling him, we oughtta be playin' with the Beatles. So anyway, the energy of the music is happening, but it's rock 'n' roll. See, like soul music.

JE: Like Motown?

TW: Yeah, like Motown. The songs were great, but it's still [demonstrates a more fixed beat]. In rock & roll, the guys are goin' [demonstrates a more explosive percussive sound]. You know, they're crashin' cymbals and so forth. But in funk and soul, it's still [demonstrates that more measured beat]. So, because I'm a drummer, I'm attracted more to the power kind of drumming, and the emotional kind of drumming.

[Dazzler]

Elvin is still alive, amazingly

<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">....and sounding amazing! Every time he comes to Ronnie Scotts he knock me out. He never seems to tire or degrade with age. Long may he keep playing. What a musician. He and Tony (and Jack)have to be responsible for changing the course of modern jazz drumming. They've given us SO much.