TT 456: Roy Haynes in the Piano Trio

and a coda with Stanley Crouch

Part three of three

1. Billy Hart on Roy Haynes

2. John Coltrane and Roy Haynes

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It seems like Roy Haynes could play with anybody. Mark Stryker pointed out to me yesterday that he was especially suited to be in a trio with piano and bass. I hadn’t put that together, but it’s certainly true.

Bud Powell, Inner Fires, a live session with Mingus in 1953, one of Bud’s best. “Salt Peanuts” is blazing. Great drum solo here as well.

Thelonious Monk, a short set at Newport with Henry Grimes in 1958. This is primo Monk, and Haynes is very much in evidence, like on the jaunty opening “Just You, Just Me.”

Phineas Newborn, in the trio led by Haynes and featuring Paul Chambers, We Three (1959). The Newborn composition “Sugar Roy” is very complicated for the era, the trio obviously did a substantial amount of rehearsal for this unique date. Nice transcription here of the insane piano part by Anthony Tseng.

McCoy Tyner, Reaching Fourth with Henry Grimes (1962). McCoy’s early albums for Impulse are all top shelf. In this case the accurate transcription of the burning title tune is done by Juan Ortiz.

(It is perhaps worth noting that both the Phineas Newborn and McCoy Tyner albums have a slow greasy blues, “After Hours” and “Blues Back.”)

Chick Corea, Now He Sings, Now He Sobs with Miroslav Vitous, 1968. Many would cite this as Corea’s best record, and it is undoubtedly the most influential album on this page. One more transcription, this time by Daan Schreuder, of “Matrix,” which has Haynes’s famous flat ride cymbal and wonderful snare drum interjections.

So that’s Bud Powell, Thelonious Monk, Phineas Newborn, McCoy Tyner, and Chick Corea at their highest level in trio with Roy Haynes. Pretty good!

There’s a lot more, of course. I’ve heard Haynes play trio with Richard Wyands, Tommy Flanagan, Jaki Byard, Hank Jones, Red Garland, Stanley Cowell, Joe Albany, Hampton Hawes, Mary Lou Williams, Michel Petrucciani, Kenny Barron, David Kikoski, Danilo Perez, and probably others. Outside of a trio context, Haynes was unbeatable with Andrew Hill, especially on Black Fire, while a good place to hear Herbie Hancock with Haynes is on Jackie McLean’s It’s Time!

A successful trio outlier is the 1978 Alice Coltrane album Transfiguration with Reggie Workman. Haynes seems totally comfortable in this spacey and spiritual environment. On the title track Alice is killing it on organ, her lines are totally fun and fresh. Haynes eventually starts to swing behind her and the music levitates to the next plane.

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I never met Roy Haynes. But I do have one anecdote that I have recounted many times; this story eventually ended up in my Stanley Crouch obit for NPR. On the occasion of Haynes’s passing I can’t pass up the chance to post it again.

Stanley was a great writer, but he might have been an even greater talker. His monologues were florid improvisations. A single prompt brought forth a cascade of insight.

A particularly memorable example concerned Roy Haynes. My wife, Sarah Deming, had also become friends with Stanley. (He told me straight out, "My respect for your sorry ass increased after I learned how cool your wife was.") Stanley would talk jazz with me and boxing with Sarah.

For a year in 2007, Sarah was the New York City brand attaché for Grey Goose, which meant she could expense fancy dinners, as long as her table asked for the vodka by name. (Talk about living in a fairytale.) Sarah took us to Masa for Stanley's birthday, where we ate and drank like Roman emperors. We followed that up with an unsteady stroll over to Birdland, for the second set of the Roy Haynes quartet. The music started and Stanley fell asleep, slumped over in his chair. (Truthfully, after all that food and booze, I was about in that kind of shape myself.)

After the first song, Haynes went to the microphone and said, "I heard Stanley Crouch is in the audience tonight. Stanley! Come up here and tell the audience about how great I am!"

I hurriedly woke Stanley and sent him to do Haynes's bidding. His posture straightened up as he magisterially approached the stage. In full control of the room and the mic, Stanley delivered an impromptu ten-minute lecture on the greatness of Roy Haynes. It was a flawless performance.

Crouch is gone, Haynes is gone, so many others are gone. During my time as a denizen of New York City, I count myself very lucky to have been in the same room with so many 20th-century giants.