Prince Lasha: The Cry!

This recording is, at first glance, a bit of an unusual choice by Craft Recording for its Contemporary Records Acoustic Sound Series audiophile vinyl series. Neither Prince Lasha (pronounced Lashay) nor Sonny Simmons make an appearance in Bill Kirchner's The Oxford Companion to Jazz (Oxford University Press, 2000). An earlier reviewer for AAJ allowed as how both players were talented, but probably understood no more about Ornette Coleman's theory of "harmolodics" than the average listener did. Skepticism or, indeed, lack of notice may be understandable. Coleman was hardly transparent about what he had been up to, so why expect any more from some followers? The judgment is, perhaps, a bit unfair. At a remove of sixty years from the recording, and the passing of the principals, perspective, if not objectivity, may be somewhat easier to come by. Lasha and Simmons were not simply disciples of Coleman, they were childhood friends of his; assuming they had no idea what he was up to is, for want of a better word, unserious.

Lasha had played with Coleman in high school in high school in Ft. Worth, TX. Simmons had met Lasha in Oakland, CA in the early 1950s. Together they went to Ft Worth in the early 1960s, recording The Cry! in 1962. They were considered free players, like Coleman, although they ultimately evolved and went in different directions. Lasha went to Europe for some time, recorded, and returned to the East Bay where he made a fortune in real estate, although he never gave up music entirely. Simmons, who had been a bopper and a follower of Charlie Parker, went to New York, had considerable exposure and success, then returned to California, and fell apart. His story is distressingly familiar. Simmons ended up strung out and playing for change in San Francisco. He did not return to form until the 1990s but resumed playing and passed on in 2021.

It may well be that originality is not a strong point of the recording, but it is by no means just some pale imitation of Coleman. Simmons is a terrific player who exploits building tension and finding release in a solo about as well as anyone. This is especially true on tunes like "Bojangles" and "Red's Mood," where Simmons' interaction with Peacock is outstanding. On "Red's Mood," the entire vibe brings back some of Coleman's more dramatic entrances on "Tears Inside," an influence, but not simply an imitation. Bassist Gary Peacock is a revelation throughout, and since Gene Stone is largely keeping time on drums, a great deal of the creative imagination in the rhythm section is attributable to Peacock, sort of the unsung hero of the entire production.

Above all, The Cry! is a document from an era when some jazz musicians thought they might alter the social structure, seeking the musical freedom to do it. That is really what the music is about. In the liner notes, Simmons calls the early 1960s "a time of tragedy. I am conscious of that when I play this." Jazz is not the sound of surprise, but the sound of American history, whether or not much changes.