By Ferruccio Martinotti
Waiting to see what kind of sonic wind will fill our sails to navigate in
the forthcoming 2026’s waters, what’s better than a quick warm up trip
towards an old, safe harbor? Coming out: being pretty obsessed with
underrated artists, whatever their field, having in our hands, not one but
two (!) live recordings of Rahsaan Roland Kirk, the epitome of such
beautiful losers, represents a chance hugely immoral to be missed. We all
know that this “much loved maverick,” as defined by the Penguin Guide to
Jazz, was an astonishing multi-instrumentalist, totally at ease with the
whole reeds family, clarinets, harmonica, English horn, trumpet, m’bira and
flute, this last played while singing (the “humming” technique, main
influence for Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull fame) or with the nose. His deep
and ongoing passion for sounds, drove Kirk to play ancient instruments such
as the manzello (a soprano with a mellophone bell) and the stritch, a
contralto without bell, or to invent brand new sonic devices like the rokon
(a sort of whistle), the black mystery pipes (rubber hoses) or the evil box,
an electro noise maker.
Kirk often embraced three saxes together, not to show
a bizarre posture but for the sake of a strict, handy necessity due to his
blindness since the age of two. This legendary picture, part of the timeless
jazz imaginary, has been often used by kritiks (the “k” is not a typo) and
musicians to downgrade Kirk as a freakshow, criminally overlooking the
amazing sound explorer he was, the timbric balance and the smart eclecticism
that allows him to deal with dixie, blues, gospel, soul and funky in a
visionary, infectious, furious, passionate but always respectful way.
Championed by Charles Mingus until the very last days, revered by Eric
Clapton and Frank Zappa, Kirk was for Jimi Hendrix a “stone cold blues
musician”, while the black community will never forget when, along with
other members of the Jazz and People’s Movement founded in 1970 (Billy
Harper, Andrew Cyrille and Lee Morgan), he entered the CBS Studios, showing
banners like “More black artists on TV” or “Honor American Jazz Music”,
forcing the stop of the Merv Griffin Show that was on air. Fuckin’ ultimate
punk gesture, man!
As a late stop, Santa’s sledge, with the license plate
Resonance Records, left at our front door two magnificent live gifts by Mr.
Kirk. Moving chronologically, the first one, Vibrations in the Village,
Live at the Village Gate, was recorded at the New York’s Village Gate on
November 26-27, 1963 with pianist Horace Parlan, Melvin Rhyne and Jane Getz,
along with bassist Henry Grimes and drummer Sonny Brown. The music,
originally recorded for a documentary film, was in storage for the next 62
years until now, when finally restored and mastered from the original tapes
by Matthew Lutthans at The Mastering Lab and 9 tracks for an hour of
ecstatic pleasure taking no prisoners, driving the listener on a brakeless
rollercoaster of blues, ballads, edgy swinging originals and fearless
improvisations. Icing on the cake, an extensive booklet with rare photos and
liner notes from Jan Persson, Tom Copi, Raymond Ross, John Kruth and May
Cobb, plus interviews and testimonials from Jane Getz, James Carter, Chico
Freeman, Steve Turre, Adam Dorn (son of long-time Kirk’s producer Joel Dorn)
and others.
With the second, Seek & Listen, Live at the Penthouse, we
set the time machine to September 8 and 15, 1967, when Our Man played at the
Penthouse jazz club in Seattle accompanied by Rahn Burton on piano, Steve
Novosel on bass and Jimmy Hopps on drums. The music, never before released,
was originally recorded by radio DJ Jim Wilke for King-FM Radio, then ended
up lost somewhere, before being unearthed, restored and mastered, as for the
previous record, by Matthew Lutthans. Covers and medleys by Duke Ellington
(I’ve got it bad; Sophisticated Lady; Prelude to a kiss; Satin Doll), Burt
Bacharach (Alfie), Cole Porter (Every time we say goodbye), Milton Ager
(Happy Days are here again) and Bobby Gentry (Ode to Billie Joe) are
interspersed with originals, for a joyful, relaxed, even tender journey. Two
different live records, two sides of the same coin, the one of a real
Maestro: don’t miss it. Post Scriptum. A legendary West London post-punk
combo formed in 1980, Rip Rig & Panic, took their name after the most
famous Kirk’s album, and the sublime Neneh Cherry had the chance to
collaborate with them before the band disbanded in 1983. Yes, exactly, dear
reader: tout se tient.