By Laurence Donohue-Greene

If you visit the Ayler Records’ website (www.ayler.com), you’ll immediately notice their statement of purpose, “Ayler Records produces recordings from live performances of preferably free and improvised music”. The first three recordings from this Sweden based label certainly follow to that formula, giving us one historic document from the late ‘70s (John Stevens Trio – Live At The Plough), and two soon to be just as historic documents, one from 1997 (Noah Howard Quartet – Live at the Unity Temple) and the other more recent session from 1999 (Peter Brotzmann – Live at Nefertiti).

The first installment of these three Ayler Record releases feature leaders who are free-jazz colleagues of sorts, all separated by only a few years in age. The late English drummer, John Stevens, would have turned 61 earlier this year (he tragically passed away in 1994). Back in the mid ’60s, Stevens was one of the co-founders of the groundbreaking London-based improvisational group, the Spontaneous Music Ensemble which boasted at one time or another a list of some of the major contributors to the European free jazz movement. From Trevor Watts, Derek Bailey, Dave Holland, and Kenny Wheeler (though Canadian born, he is certainly musically from London having moved there in the early '50s), to Evan Parker, Peter Kowald and Paul Rutherford, amongst many, many others.

Live at the Plough features a stellar trio of alto saxophonist Mike Osborne, bassist Paul Rogers, and of course John Stevens at his typically minimal drum set-up ala Max Roach (check out Stevens’ snare based and Roach influenced solo on “Blue Rondo”). Even with the obvious disadvantages of a live recording as far as sound quality with the boomy sounds and unfortunate abrupt segues between each tune, John Stevens’ trio creates music of timeless quality. Osborne, who evidently ceased performing since the early ‘80s, composed four of the seven tunes from this session done at the English pub located just south of London. This live date seemingly is just as much under the leadership of Osborne as Stevens. Osborne even composed four of the seven pieces played (compared to none by the drummer). Though his experiences on the other side of the Atlantic were expansive (from having worked with Chris McGregor and John Surman, to, later on, Keith Tippett and Louis Moholo), it is hard to believe that Osborne did not become more of a household name here in the States during that time period of the late ‘60s and ‘70s alongside other great altoists such as Oliver Lake, Marion Brown, and Sonny Simmons.

The opening tune of Jackie McLean’s “Blue Rondo” is a tip of the hat to an obvious influence of Osborne’s. After a “Welcome to Birdland” type feel, where you’re just waiting for Birdland club announcer, Pee Wee Marquette, to make some of his classic opening remarks to rile up the audience (as he did on so many classic Art Blakey and other live at Birdland recordings), Osborne skips naturally between the McLean classic and “Old Devil Moon”. He frequently shows off his Sonny Rollins-like arsenal of quotes from the standard jazz repertoire from “It Don’t Mean A Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)” and “Giant Steps” (both heard on the 23-minute closing track, “MO Recapulations”) to Coltrane, once again, and his now oft quoted “Love Supreme” (found here on Osborne’s “Carousel”).

Even through the slightly muddy sound quality, the young Paul Rogers hints through his solos and solid bass foundations at what a significant contributor he would so soon there afterwards become for English jazz, not to mention the European and international avant-garde jazz scene as a whole. You certainly can appreciate him to a larger extent when Stevens works his more subtle side to the kit as done on the title track, “Plough Story”. Roger’s bass walks right into the blues with a much more prominent role in the mix. Osborne’s inspired alto solo soars through a Coltrane-like opening vamp, throwing out several Bird quotes and a nod to the one tune whose changes so many others are based upon, “I Got Rhythm”. Stevens then subtly complements on brushes, and again Rogers is able to show off his solid technique in a Mingus-like fashion. There are actually times when Rogers plays so convincingly that one could swear there were two bassists on stage! It seems as if during the course of this live recording, certain adjustments were made for the bass in particular and, as a result, the listener can appreciate more of the dynamic playing of Rogers especially on the penultimate tune of the evening, “The Restart”.

The two jazz standards performed, “Cherokee” and “Summertime”, are done in very distinct fashion. The former of the two is performed in a frenetic pace with the trio developing a ferocious momentum leaving the days of 52nd Street far behind. The latter, “Summertime”, is a nice slow blues with Osborne reaching desperately for a few notes mid-way through the tune and towards the ending, where he hits a high sustained note in his renowned squeal-like manner which, in conjunction with the arco bass of Rogers, proves to be successfully beautiful and memorable.

This historic and, by the way, unedited document reminds the ears of quite a few other live documents of the music that were recorded under not so ideal recording conditions but which have withstood the test of time and still to this day deserve repeated listenings. For starters, anything recorded at the so-called “birthplace of be-bop” Minton’s Playhouse, countless Charlie Parker recordings, and in particular Monk’s Live at the Five Spot (featuring John Coltrane), Graham Bond’s Live at Klook’s Kleek (recorded in 1963 at the now defunct London club and featuring Jack Bruce on upright acoustic bass, drummer Ginger Baker, and guitarist John McLaughlin), and who could forget the Massey Hall Concert with Bud Powell, Mingus, Roach, and Bird? This, too, should be held in such high esteem, if not simply for the reason alone that anything Stevens recorded is of historic significance.

The other two Ayler issues are actually of much better sound quality and should be treated with just as much musical respect as the Stevens session. Peter Brotzmann’s Live at Nefertiti is, as would be expected from anything by the great European equivalent to Albert Ayler, anything but background music. This documented music of the moment, recorded at the Swedish club Nefertiti, not only demands to heard but to be listened to. The session opens with electrifying and haunting tenor screams from the German born Brotzmann along with a sparse bass and drum accompaniment. Peter Friis Nielsen is heard on electric bass throughout the disc and Peeter Uuskyla, who played with Cecil Taylor in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s as well as with the Swedish free jazz pioneer, Bengt Nordstrom, is heard on drums. The initial interaction soon morphs into a frenzied exchange with Brotzmann’s intense tone and momentum slowly but surely moving towards a subdued standstill as the trio exhaust the tune after the first eight minutes of this 70 plus minute live session.

The second tune, “Nidhog 2”, features Brotzmann on his unique style of clarinet. Focusing on the lower register of the licorice stick, a range shared with its more unwieldy family member--the bass clarinet, Brotzmann slowly moves up into higher register proclamations over Funkadelic-like bass lines. Nielsen pops notes and lines while supplying deeper acoustic bass-like tones from his instrument, as if he were playing two parts and thus making the trio a quartet. The ending is as near perfect as one could imagine or hope for, making one wonder why ending a tune has become such a lost art nowadays.

The 20-minute excursion into Uusyla’s “Third Sun” abruptly takes the listener back into the world Brotzmann is renowned for and most closely associated with. In an almost overwhelming fashion, with not a space left unturned, the tenor man offers up his equivalent to Coltrane’s latter day “sheets of sound” though taken to an extreme. With Brotzmann, it would be more accurate to describe his style as a barrage or blanket of sheer force. When he does finish his say, he gives way to the composer, Uuskyla, who takes a drum solo which shines in a light much different than when Brotzmann is otherwise involved in the mix. The cymbals and bass drum especially seem to have much more relevance, and Uuskyla certainly exploits that fact knowingly. With a snare roll re-introducing the leader, Brotzmann hulks in like a discontented dinosaur, moving slowly but with a weight not to be reckoned with as if to make up for the lost time during Uuskyla’s drum spotlight. Uuskyla scurries out of the way with Nielsen echoing each Brotzmann step, following at a safe distance and consciously not getting in the way of the intimidating tenor’s screams of anguish. And then as the journey comes to a close, and as if in disbelief that he stands as the sole survivor of the piece, Brotzmann ends on a sudden question mark from his path of destruction echoed by a lingering bass note from Nielsen.

The unique sound of the tarogato, which resembles a wooden soprano saxophone, is given a beautiful treatment by Brotzmann on “Nidhog 3” (another of the four Brotzmann compositions, from “Nidhog 1” to “Nidhog 4”). The opening minute-long introduction to the single reed instrument (which is most common in Romanian and Hungarian circles) is of sheer beauty and is actually reminiscent of the heavenly inspired, bordering on out-of-tune electric guitar sounds from the late Sonny Sharrock. The appropriate brush accompaniment from Uuskyla frames the exoticism and sincerity of the reed instrument. Towards the closing minutes of the tune, Brotzmann gladly reminds the listener that there should be no doubt as to whom is breathing through the instrument, as he offers up his tenor-like splatters of notes on the more delicate instrument. Brotzmann proves, once again, that he is not only one of the most well documented of European improvisers, but that he is and has been truly one of the world’s improvisational music giants.

The actual debut CD of Ayler Records is found with the Noah Howard Quartet’s Live at Unity Temple, the only release out of the three Ayler discs which was recorded stateside and has an American born leader. Unity Temple, designed by the great American architect Frank Lloyd Wright, can be found in Chicago. Howard (originally born in New Orleans) is actually an American expatriate having been based in Belgium for some time now. You can hear the obvious influences of Albert Ayler and Dewey Redman (who he performed with in the early ‘60s) in addition to Johnny Hodges, whose playing, in addition to that of Ornette Coleman, is at the root of Howard’s style.

The sound quality, once again, is of substantial difference to that of the Stevens disc (though the unfortunate segues between tunes continue). Bobby Few, who Howard has been associated with since the late ‘60s as members of Frank Wright’s group, is the pianist along with the great rhythm section of Wilber Morris (bass) and Calyer Duncan (drums). Duncan, an unfamiliar name with a great propulsive sound, convincingly keeps Howard moving forward (if not upward!) with his phenomenal cymbal work and superb solos. On the 18-minute seamless medley of sorts, “Lovers/Schizophrenic Blues”, Duncan pulls all the stops with Few displaying a very introspective side to his playing, as well. Howard plays an unaccompanied intro to the tune with a “My Favorite Things” of Coltrane’s type bounce in the momentum of the piece. Morris double strikes multiple bass strings simultaneously to grand effect.

“Lightning Rod, Pt.1” and “Lightning Rod, Pt.2” (the final two pieces on the disc) almost go hand in hand as two separate though related movements, the first allegro and the latter andante. On the former of the two, Howard is featured on tenor sax, a rare instance to hear Howard on anything but alto sax, his instrument of choice, of course, which he is otherwise featured on throughout the rest of the session. It’s a 23-minute journey which spells intensity from moment one. The second of the two pieces, starts out slow and is taken up a notch by the quartet mid-way with Howard still showing signs of the tenor playing from the previous tune, as his alto sound borders at times on coming across as a tenor sax interestingly enough.

Howard’s singable themes and high energy peaks, not to mention his compositions (some of which he is identified with, such as the aforementioned “Schizophrenic Blues”, as well as the opening piece, “The Blessing”), make this disc another welcomed addition into the Howard discography which is approaching merely a dozen as a leader since his debut recording as a leader for ESP back in 1966.

Though many would consider Ayler Records’ namesake an unfortunately neglected founding father of free and improvised music, Albert Ayler’s spirit can at least be contented in the fact that the movement he actually helped create is not only alive but thriving. Ayler Records has left us, as fellow musicians and listeners, historic (and soon to be historic) music documents to enjoy and refer to, and we can only hope that this is but a mere sign of more to come. By the way, look out for the next batch of releases, which will feature the Arthur Doyle/Sunny Murray/Frippe Nordstrom trio.

Keep your ears open to the music!