CD Review: A Guitar Supreme - Various Artists

by Tom Watson.

A Guitar Supreme (2004) was the first album of a series of five (to-date) tribute (or celebration) CDs released by the team of Jeff Richman and Mike Varney on the Tone Center label built on the idea of assembling well known guitarists from various schools of jazz, rock, blues and mixes thereof in order to pay tribute (or celebrate) music associated with a famous instrumentalist. A Guitar Supreme pays tribute to John Coltrane. Other titles in the series honor John McLaughlin, Miles Davis, Steely Dan, and Carlos Santana. I recently wrote about the Santana related CD, Viva Carlos!, which is why I’m now stuck with repeating the word celebrate in parenthesis.

The guitarists appearing on A Guitar Supreme and the tracks on which they’re featured are: Eric Johnson (“Resolution”); Jeff Richman (“Afro Blue” and “Central Park West/Your Lady”); Steve Lukather (“Crescent”); Greg Howe (“Giant Steps” and “Mr. Syms”); Mike Stern (“My Favorite Things” and “Equinox”); Frank Gambale (“Naima” and “Lazy Bird”); and, Larry Coryell (“Satellite”). Each of the guitarists performs his track or tracks with a “house band” composed of Larry Goldings (Hammond B3), Alphonso Johnson (electric bass), Tom Brechtlein (drums), and Jeff Richman (guitar), who also wrote the arrangements and served as the album’s producer. Mike Varney is credited as concept and executive producer. It was recorded, mixed, and mastered by Paul Tavenner.

While the CD arrived a couple of months ago with Viva Carlos!, it didn’t get a listen until 10 days ago because I have a strange approach to music listening – I only do the listening after a fair amount of thinking and since thinking can be time consuming and pleasant, I'm in no rush.

A Guitar Supreme is ripe for some good thinking. If I’m a diehard Carlos Santana fan, I’m a John Coltrane fanatic. When anyone tells me he’s a Coltrane fan or cites Coltrane as an influence (a frequent occurrence), I wonder to which John Coltrane or John Coltranes he’s referring since there were many. Attempts have been made to characterize the man and his music by years, record label, styles, sidemen (or as a sideman), venues, and such, but, frankly, when I listen to some of the live recordings I often run out of toes and fingers counting how many Coltranes I recognize in a single set.

I’ve softened up considerably toward the concept behind the Tone Center tribute-celebration series since Viva Carlos! As it did with Viva Carlos! the subtitle of A Guitar Supreme says it all: Giant Steps in Fusion Guitar. The word fusion serves as a warning to jazz purists, as do the electric guitar-sax front graphic, the lineup of featured guitarists, and the makeup of the house band.

So, before the listening I have two basic topics to think about: John Coltrane and the word fusion.

Several thoughts about John Coltrane

As I did with Viva Carlos!, I wonder what it is about the music of Coltrane that makes it Coltrane. Is there a common denominator, or, since there were so many John Coltranes, are there common denominators?

Jazz is a strange form of music, at least from a thinking point of view. It’s exactly the vagueness of it that helps us identify the form as jazz. That vagueness stems from what most assume gives jazz its unique character – improvisation.

I have a simplistic approach to listening to improvisation: Improvisation strikes me as either an end in itself (a technical point of view) or as a means of achieving a more accurate musical expression.

Put another way, some improvisations strike me as essentially technical (which can be its own source of pleasure) while with others I sense that the player uses improvisation as the means toward achieving a still higher goal – the execution of a deeper and more detailed heartfelt expression.

While there's no doubt about the technical prowess of John Coltrane, much of his music also points to something beyond itself, something that transcends the technical. Doesn’t matter if he’s playing on an unctuous Johnny Hartman studio track or blowing a not-of-this-earth solo at the Half Note, chords, scales, modes, modulations, all things technical, are a means to Coltrane, not an end. Musicianship and heart are so much a part of the man they become one.

A focus on technique by so many jazz musicians (and writers) has left a lot of non-musicians out in the cold with respect to the genre. Technique tells only half the story.

But, what is “heart” when it comes to music? Some sort of feeling. We can think of a lot of nouns that might help describe the word "heart", such as passion, love, despair, frustration, anger, and hate, but the joy of music (and other arts) is its ability to convey feelings that fall between the cracks of major verbal categories. I can’t tell you what particular feeling Coltrane is expressing in a passage because I don’t think his desire was to convey something that specific. John Coltrane was a musical reporter. His instrument was his pen. He looked inside himself, and in the later years maybe beyond himself, and let loose what he found (felt) – here it is, from my soul to yours.

Three more major elements come to mind about Coltrane’s playing: honesty, restraint, and embouchure.

Coltrane strikes me as an honest player. You have to be careful with musicians. They live to play and play to live, and you can’t always be sure which one is on the bandstand. It’s like the old joke about how to be a successful salesman: The trick to selling anything is sincerity - learn how to fake that and you’ve got it made. I trust what John Coltrane has to say implicitly. When he’s tired, he plays tired. When he’s stuck playing smarmy tunes you feel the pain of a man who wants to weep and say, “People, there’s so much more than this to life and love.”

Vibrato is a technique that reed and wind players share with guitarists. It’s a musical seasoning that’s added or avoided according to taste (which is often dictated by current musical fashion). Coltrane’s use and avoidance of vibrato flowed from his personal sense of taste despite trend or fashion. He had a natural sense of restraint with respect to vibrato that I call the bittersweet approach. I think honesty leads to bittersweet music, music that values honesty over embellishment and is neither too little nor too much.

Great guitarists are recognizable by their unique touch and attack. Put any guitar in the hands of B.B. King and he’ll still sound like King. Sax players are the same, though the word touch becomes embouchure. I doubt that Coltrane’s embouchure and resulting tone will become an issue with A Guitar Supreme, but a mention of it rounds out my thinking about him.

Fewer thoughts about fusion

Fusion is a great word. Mixing genres and styles is something musicians have always done and it’s nice to a have a single word of two syllables to describe it. But, of course, it doesn’t tell us exactly what’s being fused.

Thanks in large part to the 1970 Miles Davis album Bitches Brew, many think of fusion as jazz players incorporating elements of rock, but the fusing swung both ways. Many rock groups and players had infused elements of jazz into their music long before 1970. In fact, with respect to recording guitarists, arguments can certainly be made that Les Paul and Chet Atkins were fusing rock, jazz, blues and country long before music critics latched on to the great word.

The fusion of jazz and rock raises some interesting questions for music thinkers, at the core of which are: What makes music jazz and what makes it rock? What are “jazz elements” and what are “rock elements”? Both genres feature improvisation and both often rely on similar rhythms and chord structures (though we could superficially argue the reliance in jazz on ii-V-I versus the I-IV-V of rock). Mainstream jazz does have a much richer instrumental tradition than mainstream rock, especially with respect to improvisation – who puts The Ventures and improvisation in the same sentence?

This is what I love about the pre-listening phase. I go for days thinking about the music before the listen.

Actually, this wondering about what makes jazz, jazz, and what makes rock, rock, was something I started while listening to the Viva Carlos! CD. There were several guitar solos on that album that struck me as “fusion” simply because of the guitarist’s use of overdrive or some other tone effect not associated with straight ahead jazz. Had they used a jazz box with a clean amp setting and played the same lines, would it no longer be fusion? Did Pat Martino’s “Flor di Luna” become fusion because of the rhythm section (there are a few seconds of Jeff Richman’s rhythm guitar using overdrive)?

Enough wool gathering - let’s pop this puppy in and listen.

A Guitar Supreme

Track one: "Resolution"; featured guitarist: Eric Johnson. Two things dawn on me immediately: a bit of overdrive can make the electric guitar sound very sax-like and Eric Johnson is one hell of a guitarist. Makes sense to kick off A Guitar Supreme with a tune from Coltrane’s 1964 A Love Supreme (“Resolution” is part two of the four movement suite). To many fans, A Love Supreme is the Coltrane album. It represents the Coltrane who’s reached a stage in his career where music theory problem solving and testing have been so thoroughly explored and incorporated that he’s ready to move on to music as a doorway to the divine. I’ve admired Eric Johnson’s playing for years, but his performance on “Resolution” adds a new and deeper dimension to my appreciation of his playing because his take on the tune evidences a player who, like Coltrane, is so steeped in music that theory serves him instead of challenges. I’ve heard other guitarists play this tune and almost without fail it’s sounded tentative, unsure, apologetic. There are moments in Johnson’s “Resolution” where I hear different Coltranes, earlier “sheets of sound” Coltrane and mode-testing Coltrane (with a delightful rockish twist), as if Johnson is using “Resolution” as both a nod to the Coltrane legacy and a demonstration of how that legacy can be put to use in a contemporary setting. Johnson moves to the short list of musicians I trust.

Track two: “Afro Blue”; featured guitarist: Jeff Richman. Before hearing Richman’s “Afro Blue” I’m a little worried for two reasons: 1. “Afro Blue” is one of my favorite Coltrane tunes for a strange reason; and, 2. I usually think of it as more of a pianist McCoy Tyner tune than a Coltrane. The Coltrane version of “Afro Blue” that I like so much is from the 1965 live recording at the Half Note. Coltrane had just finished an almost 30 minute version of “One Down, One Up” and had less than a minute to rest his mouth before playing “Afro Blue”. When Coltrane, Tyner, Jimmy Garrison (bass) and Elvin Jones (drums) launch the tune, Coltrane introduces the theme then for the most parts steps back and lets Tyner deliver one of my favorite piano solos. I get the feeling Coltrane’s tired and counting on Tyner to carry the piece – Coltrane backs off from the mic and when he does solo there’s an element of fatigue. Or, it could be that Coltrane simply wanted to let Tyner shine. Either way, it gives me a sense of place and honesty. What, I wonder, is Jeff Richman going to do with this? The answer is delightful: He makes “Afro Blue” a Jeff Richman piece. Make that a Jeff Richman fusion piece. If I wanted to explain to someone the difference between jazz and jazz fusion, I could demonstrate it by playing the Coltrane and Richman versions of “Afro Blue”. I also like how Richman uses the potential of the electric guitar to create elements of mystery, the heroic, and defiance. Isn’t the electric weapon of rock ‘n’ roll perfectly suited for this? Richman takes some of the sub-themes or atmospherics of “Afro Blue” and strengthens them through overdrive and delay. That’s good fusion. The pressure could have been on Richman’s keyboardist Larry Goldings, but it was a wise move to put him on a Hammond B3 instead of an acoustic piano or Fender Rhodes. He doesn’t take the extended solo of a Tyner and the B3 tone is a perfect fusion fit. It works. Coltrane and Tyner fans will have to remember that this is a fusion tribute, not a jazz tribute.

Track three: “Crescent”; featured guitarist: Steve Lukather. Ouch. Before listening to Lukather’s “Crescent” I’m hoping for at least a romantic candlelit Italian dinner but instead I end up at Arby’s. I know this is fusion, but what I get when I hear this funkified, slaphappy version of “Crescent” is confusion. It’s fun to get funky, it’s fun to go up-tempo, but on “Crescent”? What about “Crescent” suggested fun to Lukather and Richman (the arranger)? The original is a beautiful Coltrane ballad, the title track from a 1964 album (an extended version of “Crescent” is also on the 1966 Live in Japan box set) that serves as a precursor to A Love Supreme (recorded later the same year). Crescent’s sort of an earthly Love Supreme. At about :21 the funk groove fades and I try to think that Lukather’s somewhat exaggerated use of vibrato hints at the feel of “Crescent”, but a minute later the groove return and kills it. Maybe I can’t get out of the jazz box on this one. We had a good thing going on the first two tracks. I know we’re talking fusion, but this take comes as a jolt. Now I’m worried about what’s coming next, “Giant Steps”.

Track four: “Giant Steps”; featured guitarist: Greg Howe. I breathe a sigh of relief. This is an excellent fusion take on an earlier (1959) music-theory-problem-solving-sheets-of-sound John Coltrane. It’s well known that this is a tricky piece of music due to the rapidity and nature of the chord changes and is often considered to be something akin to a jazz etude. Howe’s excellent rock and jazz technique with Richman’s somewhat funky and Jimi Hendrix-ish arrangement makes this classic fresh. What failed with “Crescent” works very well with “Giant Steps”. Listen to Howe at about 2:11. Like with Eric Johnson, for a few seconds I almost thought I was hearing a sax player.

Track five: “My Favorite Things”; featured guitarist: Mike Stern. Stern is no stranger to Coltrane. I’m thinking about his 1997 recording of “Giant Steps” on Give and Take (a more traditional rendition than Howe’s). But then, Mike’s no stranger to jazz, period. It may seem unusual that this Rodgers and Hammerstein song, later made warm and fuzzy by the movie Sound of Music, would come to be a John Coltrane signature piece, but it’s really much more bittersweet than Julie Andrews would lead you to believe. It’s not about good moments but about how we survive bad moments by recalling the good – the sweet helps us endure the bitter. And it’s the emotional theme of bittersweet that makes or breaks the song, whether the style is jazz or fusion. Stern pulls it off. His tone ranges from sweet to haunting and his improvisations achieve a good balance between emotional mood swings. Bittersweet is delicate and demanding - a couple of missteps and the mood is spoiled. Stern doesn't miss a heartbeat. Goldings' B3 work is an added plus. I was curious how this track would compare to John McLaughlin’s 1995 “My Favorite Things” (After the Rain, Polygram). To my surprise, I prefer Stern’s. It’s a great take on bittersweet. Coltrane fans might wonder which Coltrane “My Favorite Things” Stern has in mind since the song remained in Coltrane’s repertoire from 1960 on and the various recordings reflect different Coltranes (from the Miles Davis influence through Pharoah Sanders). If I had to choose, I’d say early to middle Coltrane, though I don’t think Stern is being that specific and, again, we have to remember this is a fusion tribute.

Track six: “Naima”; featured guitarist: Frank Gambale. A fitting follow-up to “My Favorite Things” as “Naima” (the name of Coltrane’s first wife) was the only other song that remained in his repertoire from its introduction (1959) to the end of his career (1967). The original is a slow, melancholic, almost lethargic ballad and I’m thinking this tune could be a challenge on guitar, an instrument that usually has to struggle to achieve the sustain of a saxophone. With this in mind, Richman’s arrangement takes me by surprise – it’s upbeat, almost cheerful and Gambale answers the sustain issue through the use of Wes Montgomery/George Benson octave chords. For the first two minutes I’m feeling smooth jazz – pleasant, though a few giant steps from my idea of “Naima”. But then, at about 2:00 Gambale launches into a late ‘50s – early ‘60s Coltrane-ish improvisation and my ears perk up. What’s interesting is I still hear this George Benson influence but it suddenly becomes a delight as the Gambale/Richman tribute traces a line of Coltrane influenced guitar playing through Montgomery, Benson and Gambale. It’s not “Naima” as I’ve ever known it, but it’s a very fitting guitar tribute to Coltrane. It’s important to constantly remember two words: fusion and tribute.

Track seven: “Mr. Syms”; featured guitarist: Greg Howe. This is another Coltrane tune I associate with pianist McCoy Tyner more than with Coltrane. The original appears on the 1960 album Coltrane Plays the Blues, recorded during the same Atlantic Records session as the album My Favorite Things. Richman’s arrangement is interesting. Goldings’ B3 gets some space but the track’s really about Howe exploring interesting possibilities inherent in a form that seems simplistic – the blues. Howe delivers a “funtastic” mixed bag of jazz, blues and rock - pentatonic passion a la modes – a true fusion.

Track eight: “Central Park West/Your Lady”; featured guitarist: Jeff Richman. This is an interesting medley arrangement and performance by Richman. “Central Park West” appears on the 1960 album Coltrane’s Sound (another album that came out of the October, 1960, Atlantic sessions) and “Your Lady” is on 1963’s Live at Birdland. What’s interesting is that Richman’s medley combines songs from two different periods of what’s called the classic Coltrane quartet. The result is an improvisational buffet that finds Richman paying tribute to a number of different Coltranes, from lyrical to modal, in the space of 5:15, which is no mean feat. Drummer Tom Brechtlein serves up some fine snare work during the “Your Lady” segment in shades of Elvin Jones, though it would have been nice if he’d been given a little more space.

Track nine: “Equinox”; featured guitarist: Mike Stern. I’m a little surprised that Stern and Richman bury the original’s intro, which was a nod to Charlie Parker. Would have been nice to go literal on that and have a tribute within a tribute. This minor key blues jam also originally appears on the 1960 Coltrane’s Sound album. What I really enjoyed about this track is how Stern, like Coltrane, shows how the relationship between a minor key and its related major mode is ambiguous.

Track ten: “Village Blues”; featured guitarist: Robben Ford. Of course, the village in question is New York City’s Greenwich Village where the John Coltrane Quartet debuted. The original of this is another track from the October, 1960, Atlantic Records sessions. The pairing of Ford with what appears to be a classic blues form (at first) may seem a natural pairing, but I’m not convinced. The sometimes almost abrupt key changes the tune goes through as it develops don’t blend all that well with Ford’s classic blues-rock tone and genre approach. Ford likes to wail (and does it well), but his way of wailing needs a little more time to develop than the chord changes allow. They don’t fuse as well as I’d hoped, but listen to the fine lines he plays at 1:53 and 2:18. I also think that Richman’s arrangement goes so blues-rock classic in the beginning that maybe it’s my ears that aren’t quite ready for the changes. Goldings’ B3 work, however, really follows the thread.

Track eleven: “Lazy Bird”; featured guitarist: Frank Gambale. “Lazy Bird” is an interesting inclusion. It’s from 1957’s Blue Train, an essentially hard bop album with a controversial cover photo of Coltrane holding a syringe. “Lazy Bird” foreshadows Coltrane’s approach to chord substitution and harmonic progression (now known as Coltrane changes) that will be made famous by the title track of his next major album, Giant Steps. For a long time I thought that “Bird” in the title referred to Charlie Parker, but it seems the title is a play on a tune called “Lady Bird” by Tadd Dameron, according to Lewis Porter, the author of John Coltrane: His Life and Music. Gambale’s “Lazy Bird” has several excellent moments, but his use of distortion tends to muddy the two low strings to the point where some of the lines lose their impact. My guess is that he went with this tone to achieve increased sustain in the upper register, which he does, but it’s at a price. I would have voted for a little more clarity. Tom Brechtlein weighs in with some excellent drumming.

Track twelve: “Satellite”; featured guitarist: Larry Coryell. This is, in some ways, the most interesting track on A Guitar Supreme (and the third tune that originally appeared on 1960's Coltrane's Sound). The main section leans heavily toward rock in a manner similar to Howe's “Giant Steps”, which will have some jazz-minded fans scratching their heads for at least the first 35 seconds or so. It’s great that producer Jeff Richman and executive producer Mike Varney got Coryell, a key figure in the history of jazz-rock and fusion (I have to separate the two because Coryell’s fusions apply to more than just jazz and rock) to appear on A Guitar Supreme. Coryell’s contribution and Richman’s arrangement remind me that rock and jazz aren’t such distant relatives as they sometimes seem.

A Guitar Supreme works very well as jazz-rock, and at times jazz-funk, fusion, though it might be more accurate to describe it as rock-jazz. It could also serve as an introduction to both the fusion genre and the music of John Coltrane for rock or other non-jazz guitarists. My hope is that some day Shrapnel will produce a Coltrane tribute that focuses on Coltrane's later work. Imagine an Ascension fusion guitar tribute with the guitarists on A Guitar Supreme.

Related Links
Jeff Richman
The Shrapnel Label Group/Tone Center
A Guitar Supreme on Amazon.com
John Coltrane

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