Cecil Taylor Unit: Fragments: The Complete 1969 Salle Pleyel Concerts

Cecil Taylor, a pioneer of free jazz, pared down his Cecil Taylor Unit ensemble for a trip through Europe to partake in a 15-date tour in late 1969, in support of the Duke Ellington Orchestra and the Miles Davis Quintet. This foray was billed as the Newport Jazz Festival In Europe. Taylor's Unit of the day—Taylor on piano, Sam Rivers on reeds, Jimmy Lyons on alto sax and Andrew Cyrille in the drummer's chair—sounded nothing like the elegance and swing of Ellington. And it did not sound anything like Davis' Seconds Great Quintet's fierce modal attack. This was around the time Davis came out with forward-leaning and slightly electrified Filles de Kilimanjaro (Columbia, 1968).

Sonic diversity must have been the name of the game for that tour, where, in November of 1969, The Cecil Taylor Unit performed two shows, afternoon and evening, in Paris, France. The concert was taped. It finally gets an official release in 2026, with the arrival of Fragments: The Complete 1969 Salle Pleyel Concerts. For this we can thank the Jazz Detective, Zev Feldman, who has apparently made his life's mission one of uncovering and presenting to the world 'lost' music from the past masters.

For those new to the world of Cecil Taylor, the 140-plus minutes of music on 2 CDs (three albums) presented here may be a hair-raising, spine-jolting shock to the system. Taylor and drummer Cyrille are assaultive, a fortress-storming percussive force. Rivers and Lyons honk and squawk and howl in the manner of late-period John Coltrane. The unaccustomed ear may hear, in the sax squabbles, something akin to a flock of seagulls fighting over an abandoned sandwich. A method to their saxophone madness may be judged as allusive, at best, for those who have not experienced the Taylor Unit mode.

For Taylor fans, this sound fits into the way the pianist rolled since his groundbreaking Unit Structures (Blue Note, 1966). Freedom rings here. Taylor fires off fusillades, sometimes with jackhammer intensity, sometimes with a snappy, zinging delicacy. What begins as chaos coagulates into a sort of focused mayhem. Taylor enjoys ample room for his keyboard ramblings as, at times—sometimes extended times—horns hold back. Given the extended length of the three pieces presented here—and the horn men's willingness to let Taylor fly free with just the drummer in tow—the pianist probably has as much solo room as he does on some of his more (relatively) abbreviated solo albums. Sam Rivers' use of his flute makes for some surprisingly lovely interludes; noting that the word lovely is rarely found in reviews of Cecil Taylor recordings.

The massive 70-plus minute "Afternoon Set Version Part 2" features a brief interlude of Taylor screaming like a maniac, or a man possessed.

A man possessed he was, with his Unit circling close in an obsessive orbit, the horns blistering the air while the leader fires off piano note salvos that—if each note were a bullet—would leave no survivors. This is Taylor and company at the top of their game, hopped up on the sounds they were making, not even thinking about taking any prisoners. 

Adult supervision by a committed Cecil Taylor fan is recommended for those unfamiliar with the pianist's music.