by John MacCalkies
It's hard to imagine that chalky-haired saxophonist Charles Lloyd was once at the epicenter of fashion - he seems so out-of-step with today's consumer society.
But back in the turbulent mid-sixties, when the ascendance of rock was threatening to all but wipe out jazz, Lloyd's afro-topped, flower power quartet with Keith Jarrett and Jack DeJohnette cleaned house. Their live recording at the Monterey Festival was one of the first million-selling jazz releases, they played at the Fillmore Auditorium alongside Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, and were the first American jazz group to obviate the Cold War, making headlines in 1967 with a performance in Tallinn, Estonia.
Earlier in his career, as a member of the Cannonball Adderley Sextet, Lloyd had already been treated as pop collateral when the Musicians Union traded a stateside visit from the Beatles for the export of Adderley's group to the U.K. Then, at the height of fame he took his hejira from the scene. Whereas Sonny Rollins chose the metal structure of the Williamsburg Bridge in Manhattan as his woodshed, the nature-loving Lloyd took to the seclusion of Big Sur, which was haven to the likes of Langston Hughes, Jack Kerouac and Lawrence Ferlinghetti. "Mine was a more conventionally Zen retreat - playing in a forest to thousand-year-old redwood trees, looking out to sea, confronting the mirror of solitude" he says. "I was always an idealist and wanted to change the world through music. Lamenting global atrocities I got to a point where I realized the healing had to start with the individual and decided to go and work on myself." Lloyd refers much to the dual natures of expression and reflection. He sees these characteristics manifested in the styles of Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young. Lloyd shares the latter saxophonist's urbane charm and favors an old Conn horn, which he tilts to the side when he plays, much like Young. "I find I can hear the tone better that way," he says.
Pharoah Sanders is perhaps the only other "junior elder" (to use a favorite Lloyd phrase) whose sound suggests an inner quest for that "ineffable something." Both were heavily indebted to John Coltrane. "What moved me with Trane was that he brought the whole tradition along with his spirituality." Clearly out of touch with the Chicago jazz scene (he hasn't played here for twenty years), Lloyd tells a tale about a posh supper club called The London House: "Is it still around? I had a gig there with Cannonball back in '65. We were instructed to play softly during the first set while people were eating their steaks." Coltrane's quartet were at the Plugged Nickel, a cement-floor dive in comparison to the London House, but he and Lloyd stayed at the same hotel. "He was getting a lot of flak from the critics at the time and he asked me what my gig was like. I told him how we had to play ballads for the dinner crowd and he said, 'Well gee, I can play ballads.' I was floored by his bashfulness."
Lloyd has always been conscious of his potency as a performer and mentor in his own right. The story goes, he was coaxed out of hibernation by the late Michel Petrucciani, but it was by association with Lloyd that the French pianist gained his first significant exposure. Back during his days as MD for drummer Chico Hamilton (in whose group Lloyd replaced Eric Dolphy), the saxophonist discovered the talent of guitarist Gabor Szabö. Lloyd's recording with Szabö, 1965's "Of Course, Of Course," became a source of inspiration for John Abercrombie. "I introduced Gabor to Ravi Shankar's music," recalls Lloyd. "He had assimilated our Western tradition and had also listened to the Hungarian gypsies of his homeland, so he brought a different kind of twang to jazz guitar. I love Abercrombie because he's taken that twang and developed it further, he can play very soulfully too."
The guitar/tenor combination works a charm on Lloyd's most recent release "Voice in the Night," his sixth for ECM since returning to active duty. The current quartet also features old friend Billy Higgins, one of the most infectiously positive and alert drummers in jazz, who has bounced back from serious illness. Bassist Marc Johnson replaces Dave Holland on this visit. Johnson has had a close association with Abercrombie over the years and worked with Bill Evans, whose lyrical conception also influenced Lloyd. The saxophonist's brand of mellifluous and transcendental vibes is due for renaissance, but he can only maintain his earthy resonance through periodic trips back to Big Sur. "It recharges my reflective side but also enables me to run up on the mountain top and scream if I want to."
Despite his enjoyment of isolation, he retains an ear for the radio waves and recently clocked the Elvis Costello/Burt Bacharach "God Give Me Strength," seeing fit to cover it on "Voice in the Night." The song has a deep resonance for him. "This music is about freedom and wonder, interpreted by the greatest players it takes an individual truth and makes it universal. I feel younger than springtime and that's because I'm playing to the highest source, the Creator. Anyone picking up on that when they hear me play is sure to leave with a smile."
(Carl Kozlowski)
copyright 1999 New City Communications, Inc.