By Asim Memon
"Crossing Jordan. You ever watch that?" queries pianist Orrin Evans. He's recording the season premiere of the NBC forensic drama at his mother's house in the East Mt. Airy section of Philadelphia.
"I've always been into mysteries where I have to figure something out," continues the pianist, walking back from the VCR in the other room. "I'm a major Law and Order fan . . . and then my other good show is The Practice. I've always been into it: Agatha Christie, Hitchcock, all of those. I used to watch Matlock and Murder She Wrote, anything that makes you go 'hmmm' with a little twist at the end."
Evans, 27, vocalist wife Dawn Warren and their two sons, 9-year-old Miles and 4-year-old Matthew, have been staying with Evans' mother while they wait to close on a house in the same Mt. Airy neighborhood.
Though Evans has chosen to pursue his passion for crime shows off-the-beaten-jazz-track, he's no mystery in the world of improvised music. Most of Evans' work is focused in New York where he enjoys an international career. He placed second in the 1999 Thelonious Monk International Piano Competition and has boasted sideman gigs with the likes of Roy Hargrove, Stefon Harris and Bobby Watson. A leader in his own right, he's cut five albums with Dutch label Criss Cross and two on his own label, Imani Records. The New York Times has described Evans as "a singular young pianist," in whose sound "you hear an adventurous mind with a refreshing aversion to clichÃÂÃÂÃÂé." Commenting on his Criss Cross release, Listen to the Band, a JazzTimes reviewer wrote that "as Evans becomes more adventurous his work just seems to get better and better."
Evans has cultivated a reputation as a cocky young gun uncompromising in his sound. Some critics venture that his percussive piano style that exhibits a penchant for repeated notes and phrases is too intense for the casual listener. Evan's doesn't contest this opinion: "To be truthfully honest, I don't care about the listener. I don't think God gave me this gift to play the piano to worry about that.
"There's a song, a standard I used to play. It says, 'I want be happy, but I can't be happy till you're happy too.' I always hated those lyrics. I switched them around: 'I'm going to be happy. I hope you can follow in my example.'"
This critical acclaim and relentless pursuit of his own voice has paid dividends. In late September, Evans released Meant to Shine on Palmetto Records, his debut on a major U.S. label. A set of mostly Evans originals, the album features Sam Newsome on soprano saxophone, multi-reedist Ralph Bowen, Gene Jackson on drums and bassist Eric Revis.
Evans hopes that Palmetto's strong radio base and distribution channels will propel him to the next level. "The biggest way to reach the people now is radio," explains Evans. "I love Criss Cross: I've dealt with them for five records. But as far as radio promotion, they weren't great. As far as U.S. distribution they weren't. It's great to actually have a label, a U.S. label. You can say, 'Yeah, my record is here.' I've always had to say, 'Yeah, it might be.' Now I can pretty much say, 'Yeah, go down here and check it out.'"
The irony of this recent Palmetto coup is that Evans had to temper his demanding style for the new album.
"I think Meant to Shine is the first record--and I don't say this with joy, but it's just a fact--this is the first that I did that I catered to the radio listener, more so than any record. I'm not saying that the tunes are smooth, 'cause that's not the deal. What it is, there's less solo work."
Indeed, Meant to Shine eschews piano intros--a prominent feature on albums like Grown Folk Bizness and Listen to the Band. And Evans refrains from soloing on the song, "Elevation."
"There was even a point where [on] a tune that didn't make the record I did an opening piano solo," recounts the pianist. "I was like, 'Man!' and I just stopped and the whole band started laughing 'cause they knew why I stopped. I was like, 'All right, take two.' I knew that wasn't what I was going for this time but they knew that that was what I wanted to play--I censored myself."
Evans insists that these changes do not reflect a qualitative departure from his previous challenging oeuvre. "I just shortened the songs," he says. "I didn't take off the edge of the music at all I didn't try to soften it."
To some extent he's not being disingenuous. The pianist's interplay with drummer Gene Jackson and bassist Eric Revis recalls the abrupt and fragmentary style he's developed over the years with a cadre of rhythm section players. On tunes like "Don't Write No Shit About Me," "Meant to Shine," and "Commitment," Evans conducts a precipitous dialogue with Jackson and Revis that demands focused attention.
Notwithstanding Meant to Shine's concession to commercial viability ("I wanted it to be played"), Evans vows he's committed to his iconoclastic vision.
"I'm not going anywhere. People are going to be forced to hear my music but just in a four minute fifty second version."
Evans says he takes pride in having honed a style of playing that keeps the listener guessing. "That's why I like mysteries," he explains. "That's why after this is over I'm going to go watch Crossing Jordan--I don't know what's going to happen."
This article first appeared in the Nov-Dec 2002 issue of All About Jazz: Philadelphia.
