Chick Corea's Musical Universe
Zappa, Sisters w/Transistors, Get Happy!, Timmy Chan's, Prince, My Way
As a serious piano student learning to play jazz in the late seventies and early eighties, Chick Corea was one of my top two role models and influences, the other being Herbie Hancock. These were guys who were schooled as jazz pianists and had managed to develop their own voice in traditional jazz environments but who were nonetheless fascinated by the places where jazz was beginning to travel. Both played with Miles Davis during his crucial juncture with electric music that came to be known as fusion, and I'd say that the musical language of the Fender Rhodes electric piano was laid down for jazz, and a good deal of pop music as well, by Hancock and Corea (with maybe an assist from Ramsey Lewis). This past week Vernon Reid tweeted about the influence of Corea and Hancock's fusion playing on Stevie Wonder, citing the instrumental "Contusion" from Songs in the Key of Life as being influenced by their work, and you can hear it on a song like "Too High" as well.
Both pianists are also musical polyglots, moving easily between straight-ahead jazz, avant-garde, electric fusion, funk, rock, classical, and popular music, leaving their imprint on any genre they touch. And, of course, they recorded and performed together numerous times and had a deep love and respect for each other. Losing one of these masters is like losing an arm or an ear.
Corea's career really took off during his time with Miles, and he sought to bring the rhythm section further and further outside of time, aided by a strong musical connection to bassist Dave Holland. Between 1968 and 1970 he participated in recording sessions with Miles Davis for Filles de Kilimanjaro, In a Silent Way, Bitches Brew, Live-Evil, and Live at Fillmore East. He also played with Davis at the Isle of Wight Festival, a turning point in the acceptance of jazz fusion by popular music fans, after which both he and Holland left Miles, forming a free improvisation group, Circle, with drummer Barry Altschul and saxophonist Anthony Braxton. They recorded three albums that are well worth seeking out, and the trio (without Braxton) also recorded the album A.R.C., where the three musicians experimented with taking the whole rhythm section 'outside,' something Miles had never allowed them to do.
Corea's next move was characteristically restless: he recorded a series of solo piano improvisations for ECM Records. Many of these are based on compositions or themes that became familiar to Corea's listeners. A track like "Sometime Ago," a song that he recorded with Return to Forever along with lyrics sung by Flora Purim, has the feel of a folk melody about it that helps put it over even if it seems a tad simplistic. Corea went even simpler (more minimal) for Children's Songs in 1984, a series of simple themes with little development that seems heavily influenced by Bela Bartok. Interestingly, Corea recorded the tracks that became Piano Improvisation V. 1 & V.2 on April 21 and 22, with the first volume released in 1971, while Facing You, Keith Jarrett's first album of solo piano improvisation was recorded in November of '71 and released in March of '72. I don't think it's a question of artists copycatting each other so much as, in all likelihood, Manfred Eicher discovering a partial early niche for his fledgling record company. In 1972 Eicher recorded and released Paul Bley's gorgeous Open, To Love, and the idea of solo piano as a musical genre was firmly in place.
But Chick Corea was already moving on, forming the first incarnation of his fusion band Return to Forever, whose first ECM record is a fusion classic. Featuring Stanley Clarke, Joe Farrell, Airto Moreira, and his wife, vocalist Flora Purim, with Corea on electric piano, the group had a light, somewhat Brazilian-tinged sound, with Farrell frequently playing flute or soprano sax. The same group recorded a second album, Light as a Feather, and were the backing band on Stan Getz's excellent record Captain Marvel. Corea then disbanded this group to create a second version of Return to Forever that was, in essence, a prog-rock band. Guitarist Al DiMeola, Clarke, and drummer Lenny White were all excellent musical technicians as well as composing and leading groups on their own, and the classic RTF albums, Where Have I Known You Before and New Mystery, combine jazz, rock, and funk to create some truly great music. The classic lineup's final album (until a later reunion) was Romantic Warrior, an album that is way more like an Emerson Lake & Palmer or Rick Wakeman record than anything on the jazz side of the fence.
After that Corea made a bunch of studio records that seemed to be trying to communicate with a wider audience--some, like The Leprechaun, featured some actual songs with lyrics that were written and sung by Gayle Moran, Corea's second wife. My Spanish Heart went back to Corea's roots, playing and hearing Latin and Latin jazz music while growing up, and featured some classic Corea compositions. One thing that I find interesting about Corea is that he definitely understood popular music and followed at least some of what was going on there, but he never really seemed interested in playing or collaborating with rock or other popular musicians, something that Hancock and Miles Davis did in later parts of their careers. Instead, Chick seemed intent on creating his own musical universe, even a pop music one. While many jazz fans (even fusion fans) were critical of records like The Leprechaun or Tap Step, these records demonstrate Corea creating his own brand of sunny pop featuring lyrics that spoke of the kind of world he wanted to live in, one of kindness and acceptance.
From that point until his death this past week, Chick Corea released a dizzying array of recordings and participated in an equally stunning number of live performances around the world with musicians from every niche and category. He formed groups like Origin, and the Chick Corea Elektric and Akoustic bands to play the new music he was writing. He wrote a piano concerto and performed other classical works or improvisational playing based on the work of classical composers. He played RTF-style fusion and rock, and eventually, he reunited with RTF.
He particularly went out of his way to explore the music of Thelonious Monk, recording Monk's compositions in both the studio and live setting a number of times, including a memorable program at Jazz at Lincoln Center. He also explored the piano work of Bill Evans on the album Further Explorations.
Though he did great work as a solo artist, part of Corea's real genius seems to have been his ability to communicate with other musicians and to be inspired by them as well. This is apparent in each of the many bands that Corea has led. Each one seems to have its own vibe based on the musicians involved and the relationships that they share. One place where it becomes very apparent whether a musician is a good listener or not is in working in a duet with one other musician. In these environments, there is nowhere to hide, and you cannot play effectively in the moment with one other musician unless you are listening to them carefully.
Corea has recorded duets with a number of other artists, including banjo player Bella Fleck, pianist Hiromi, and his long-running duet partner, vibraphonist Gary Burton. Corea and Burton recorded the classic Crystal Silence in 1973 and have since recorded seven records together, creating a decades-long musical conversation and friendship that listeners were lucky enough to overhear. Even Burton himself was surprised by the longevity of their collaboration: “I kept thinking, ‘Surely it’s going to run out of steam here at some point,’” Burton told an interviewer. “And it never did. Even at the end, we would still come offstage excited and thrilled by what we were doing.”
You can sense that Corea was probably not too difficult a guy to work with or get along with by the fact that he maintains relationships with musicians who he enjoys working with quite readily. In 2018 he reunited with Steve Gadd, the sought-after studio drummer who powered such Corea records as The Leprechaun and My Spanish Heart, to record Chinese Butterfly, a solid album that demonstrated Corea's continued vitality and relevance to the fusion genre. Return to Forever also reunited for a concert tour and a new album in 2008-09.
In listening to a lot of Chick Corea albums and records where he was a sideman, I am struck by the sheer range of creativity that his discography represents. In terms of versatility and also as a composer, very few musicians of any genre can match Corea, with his fellow pianist/co-architect of jazz fusion, Herbie Hancock being an exception. Few artists have ceaselessly dedicated themselves to creating music that communicates with their fellow humans without sacrificing the core of their musical identity. I hope that future generations discover and share aspects of Corea's work that they find most interesting and that his musical garden will continue to grow new, ever-fresh perspectives on his work. Corea, always encouraging and supportive, left this message on his Facebook page: "It is my hope that those who have an inkling to play, write, perform or otherwise, do so. If not for yourself then for the rest of us. It’s not only that the world needs more artists, it’s also just a lot of fun.”
I have created a six-hour retrospective playlist of Chick Corea's music which I'll likely add to in future weeks. Just listening to the variety of music Corea created goes a long way to alleviate the grief of his passing.
Bonus Tracks
In Brilliant, Broke & Willfully Annoying Michael Dwyer of the Sydney Morning Herald writes about how Alex Winter's documentary, Zappa, is as much about the corporate takeover of the music business as it is about the life and work of Zappa himself. "When he said that, back in the Reagan era, it was still possible to feel shocked by the insidious corporate takeover of music. Today it’s a given that we process the stuff in terms of numbers. Charts, sales, streams, views, budgets, box office, trends, searches, awards, likes, followers. But to watch Winter’s film is to realise how completely we’ve squandered the wondrous potential of music since those golden years. The freedom of the composer to express and explore beyond industry-defined parameters is almost an esoteric idea now. As esoteric as Frank Zappa."
Even if you're into electronic music or modern composers there's a good chance you aren't familiar with Clara Rockmore, Delia Derbyshire, or Suzanne Ciani, and that's because, just as in other endeavors, women's contributions have largely been written out of electronic and experimental music history. That will change with the release of Lisa Rovner's documentary Sisters with Transistors, slated for national release this spring. "Narrated by Laurie Anderson, the film celebrates the achievements of early pioneers such as Daphne Oram, who was hired by the BBC as a studio engineer in the 1940s. After hours, Oram began recording and manipulating sounds on magnetic tape, experiments that led to the co-founding of the BBC's Radiophonic Workshop in 1958. Another pioneer, Delia Derbyshire, crafted sounds for nearly 200 BBC programs, including the iconic theme music for the sci-fi series Doctor Who, which debuted in 1963."
Get Happy! is one of my favorite Elvis Costello albums, and it is turning forty. While I'd love to write about it (maybe I will), I can't pass up the chance to hip readers to this piece on the album by Elizabeth Nelson, published at The Ringer. It's a pretty deep dive into the album that 'speaks double Dutch/to a real double dutchess'. "By age 24, Costello was well established as a genius auteur whose mastery of song form situated him alongside not only the major figures of the rock era, but also connected him to the larger traditions of Tin Pan Alley and the Grand Ole Opry. He threw off great tunes at such a rate that he couldn’t release them all, so they were farmed out to icons like Dave Edmunds and George Jones. His momentum so unbridled it could not be stopped and could hardly be contained. There was only one person who could halt the inextricable rise of Elvis Costello."
A standout read for me this past week has been Alana Dao's evocative essay about Timmy Chan's, a Chinese restaurant-turned-fried chicken restaurant that Dao's grandparents started in the 1950s (they sold it in the eighties). Timmy Chan’s has become a well-known purveyor of food for Houston's hip-hop community. Dao takes us through the years, from egg rolls and fried rice to chopped and screwed, a Houston-centric style of hip-hop mixing. This essay is only marginally about hip-hop, but it has a lot to impart about Houston's hip-hop culture, the modern South, and the assimilation of immigrants into the fabric of American society. It's a magical piece, and I strongly recommend you set aside time to read it.
We're only beginning to put the career of Prince Rogers Nelson into perspective, not to mention the processing of the various vault recordings he left behind, but Alex Pedtritis takes the arrival of the fifth anniversary of Prince's death to delve deeply into his life and career, looking for a reflection of who the man was, and what his career meant. "Furthermore, you work for Prince in the full knowledge he doesn’t actually need you. He can do everything himself and he can do it better than you — write songs, play any instrument, produce, sing in a voice that sweeps effortlessly from a baritone to a piercing falsetto, dance — something he isn’t above making you aware of if he’s in a bad mood. That’s a working environment that’s bound to have some kind of psychological impact."
In 'My Way' Has Always Been the Anthem of Despicable Men, Tim Grierson writes about how Paul Anka's anthem of self-celebration has shifted over the years until it has become a song that can only be appreciated without irony by the most toxic of men--even Sinatra came to dislike it. Far from being a snowflakey generational screed, Grierson gives us a solid history of the song and what has become of it since it was unleashed on the world. Oh, and there's a playlist with ten versions of 'My Way' for your listening pleasure. "(Donald) Trump has long admired Sinatra — “I have the greatest respect for people who have experienced adversity and then come back,” he once wrote — and you could see why a champion self-pitier like our now-former president would emotionally invest in 'My Way.'"
Leaving you on this Fat Tuesday with Professor Longhair's version of 'Mardi Gras In New Orleans' accompanied by photographs of Mardi Gras in the French Quarter taken over the years. Here's hoping that next year's celebration will be like those seen here--it's sure to be a wild time.
Wishing you a terrific week, and looking forward to the time when we'll meet again.