The late saxophonist Frank Lowe was one of the crucial torchbearers of ‘60s avant-jazz, extending Coltrane and Pharaoh Sanders into the lofts and performance spots of ‘70s New York City. He also cut a bunch of discs, though the early material found on Triple Point Records’ 2LP Out Loud is only now seeing release. A hand-numbered edition of 550 copies stunningly designed and accordingly priced for the collector, it may not be the easiest entry point into the fiery improvising of its period, but for longtime fans of Lowe and free jazz devotees in general it’s an immersive, educational acquisition.
This writer’s personal discovery of Frank Lowe came via the 1990s deluge of German import CD reissues of the ESP Disk catalog. Black Beings was the LP, a fierce 1973 blitz serving as one in a series of repudiations to the idea that free jazz temporarily withered after the death of Coltrane and the rise of fusion; it also offered a killer appearance by Art Ensemble of Chicago saxophonist Joseph Jarman and the earliest glimpse of bass titan William Parker.
While certainly integral to the ESP Disk story, the existence of Black Beings is simply impossible without the shaping precedent documented across the previous decade by the Impulse label, particularly the work of ‘Trane. Interestingly, Lowe’s recording debut was on Alice Coltrane’s swell ’72 Impulse effort World Galaxy.
The Black Beings CD lending the abovementioned introduction was but a single volume in a mass of plastic dropped without much fanfare into the midst of the ‘90s compact disc reissue boom. Amongst the best of ESP’s later entries, it remains a wooly snapshot of free jazz’s ‘70s transition into the lofts and art spaces of self-reliance and is an absolute prerequisite to a full understanding of Lowe, whose curious “Out of Nowhere,” a one-sided 12-inch compiling two duets with drummer Phillip Wilson, arrived more or less concurrently with Black Beings return to print.
But that CD, sketchily licensed to Germany’s ZYX imprint, while musically vital, contrasts sharply with the release of the Frank Lowe Quartet’s Out Loud, a boutique article from a tiny label operated by a pair of dedicated individuals (Joe Lizzi and Ben Young) with only two other items in its discography thus far; Ailanthus/Altissima, a duo 2LP by pianist Cecil Taylor and drummer Tony Oxley issued in commemoration of Taylor’s 80th birthday, and the Grammy-nominated 5LP doozy Call it Art, an in-depth documentation of the uncirculated music from the vastly important New York Art Quartet.
To call Out Loud’s packaging a beauty to behold is risking understatement. Comprised of heavy duty vinyl housed in a gatefold tip-on jacket splendidly conceived by Svenja Knödler, there’s also a 38-page full color booklet loaded with informative essays from Ed Hazell and saxophonist J.D. Parran adorned by the photos of Valerie Wilmer (author of the indispensable free jazz book As Serious As Your Life) and Omar Kharem. Plus, together with the sounds on the wax there’s an online access code to a rough but fascinating sync-sound video of the quartet performing at Sam and Bea Rivers’ Studio Rivbea.
As Hazell details in the notes, the NYC live scene was thriving, but for the ‘70s disciples of Fire Music getting onto tape could be a struggle, and the belatedness of this set skillfully communicates just how difficult it was. The recordings this outfit made on May 1, 1974 at Rashied Ali’s Survival studio, intended by Lowe as a five part suite named “Act of Freedom” for an album to be titled Logical Extensions, did land him an opportunity with Freedom Records.
Producer Alan Bates apparently dug the tapes, but as producers are known to do, he asked Lowe to cut a new session; the result was Fresh, which drafted an altered lineup and featured two Thelonious Monk compositions, a much different affair from Out Loud’s quartet. Amidst other aspects, Fresh finds Abdul Wadud in place of Parker, the solitary player Lowe retained from the cutting of Black Beings.
One of the finest of all bassists and very likely the greatest to have emerged in jazz post-1970, Parker’s in reliably strong form throughout (a tad surprising given his age), with his partner in rhythm the late Steve Reid. A drummer of true versatility, Reid’s talents span from deep experimentalism to backing up Dionne Warwick to leading his own ensemble. Rounding out the foursome is Joseph Bowie, a guy many know as the trombonist in Defunkt, though his participation in the Black Artists Group, the Human Arts Ensemble, and the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble deserves wider recognition (all made worthwhile records).
If a wonder to behold, Out Loud is even better to behear (to employ Dewey Redman’s terminology). After a bit of thematic tandem blowing, “Untitled 1” (called out by producer Ali as part 1 of “Act of Freedom”) serves up a potent burst of Lowe’s explosive fire breathing, though immediately impressive is the forcefulness of the rhythm section; the piece actually commences with the sinewy motion of Parker’s bass line, sorta reminiscent of Jimmy Garrison on an espresso binge, as Reid aggressively joins the fray with cymbals blazing shortly thereafter.
Once Lowe amply establishes the vigor of his expression, he briefly drops out as Bowie enters to broaden the sonic range. However, when Lowe returns it’s with even more intensity and he and Bowie deliver a vibrant, raucous tangle before the saxophonist steps into another solo spot. Parker also gets a moment by his lonesome; the track resolves with a restatement of the theme.
“Vivid Description” (the suite’s last part) opens with seizures of breath blending with an angular slightly free-boppish head prior to the group collectively going for broke, their methodical assault interspersed with spaces of relative calm; alternately surfacing are strands of achy, lopsided blues, Parker’s bowed, at-times violin-like strings, and gusts and smears of Bowie’s ‘bone.
Immediately after approximating something close to a duck call Lowe picks up the flute for a flash of Roland Kirk; later he sounds especially attractive in a concise three-way with a drawn-out trombone groan and more of Parker’s sturdy bowing. Along the way Reid batters the kit with precise abandon, and as the end nears traces of the Art Ensemble become tangible. The influence of the Windy City collective continues on side B’s short, loose opener “Listen,” part 2 of “Act of Freedom” including extra percussion, bursts of voice and even a rogue whistle.
Here, it’s a prelude to “Untitled 2” (slated as the 4th part of Lowe’s suite), a lengthy BYG-esque excursion into simmering group improv anchored by the rhythmic duo (in particular the lovely repetition of Parker’s incessant, unperturbed lines), accented by further bouts of vocal (notably emphatic shouts of the album’s title, though mentioning this kinda feels like a spoiler) and containing a sweet midsection of Lowe on soprano sax.
At 41 seconds, “Logical Extensions” (“Act of Freedom” part 3) impacts the ear as an engaging coda to the Survival date, and the whole of Out Loud’s first LP sits in fine counterpoint to the side-long explorations captured at Studio Rivbea sometime during 1974; “Whew!” and “Untitled 3,” each over 23 minutes in length, constitute sides C and D respectively.
Those expecting a breakneck plunge into an improvisational maelstrom a la Black Beings might be surprised to learn that much of “Whew!” is relatively restrained, the side presenting attractive bass soloing and additional soprano. Of course, context; the vocabulary of Fire Music is being spoken and will surely halt any moldy fig in their tracks. The same can be said for “Untitled 3,” which unfurls like a batch of AACM members meeting up with Grachan Moncur III.
A splendor of aural reward occurs as the needle treks the 4th groove and it’s enlightening to hear the group, with roughly six minutes left, enter into the theme heard at the beginning of “Untitled 1.” Also welcome is a guest spot on trumpet from Ahmed Abdullah; Hazell describes his input as bringing a flavor of bop to the proceedings, and that’s right on the money, though nobody’s going to confuse this for a mid-‘50s Prestige or Blue Note session.
It’s safe to claim that if the artistry collected on Out Loud had been released at the time of creation it would be long-lauded as a centerpiece of ‘70s loft jazz activity, the roster alone insuring an appreciable level of attention as the leader is consistently on top of his game. Make no mistake; this is searching, occasionally unfocused, frequently demanding and just as often wildly successful music with a fairly limited retrospective appeal.
For an introductory taste to Lowe, one should look elsewhere. Try a copy of Black Beings perhaps, and for a survey of the lofts track down the Wildflowers volumes. But for those with an enduring passion for avant-garde jazz and the dollars to spend, Out Loud is a magnificent labor of love; it’s without hesitation one of the best reissues of 2014.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A+
