TT 555: Jack DeJohnette
The drumming great has passed away at 83
Jack DeJohnette was one of the last true jazz superstars, a charismatic and explosive force for a whole spectrum of possibility. He was perhaps the most crucial ECM musician, keeping all those Manfred Eicher productions grounded in something American no matter what. He loved rock music and could lay in a basic beat like a pile driver, yet also espoused experimental freedom in the AACM lineage. Through it all, DeJohnette’s primeval swing ride cymbal remained unimpeachable, delivering a relaxed undulation that could uplift any kind of acoustic jazz ensemble.
The two drummers associated with John Coltrane and Miles Davis in the 1960’s were Elvin Jones and Tony Williams. While Jones emphasized the African 6/4 within 4/4 and spacious devisions of the beat, Williams brought forth even-eighth patterns derived from Cuban and Brazilian music along with blistering speed and accuracy. DeJohnette was the logical next step, putting them together for an inferno of groove.
For many, Elvin-Tony-Jack was and is the holy trinity.
We will not see the likes of them again.
Every jazz fan has their own private relationship to the major figures. In my case, I started collecting sides in about 1985, when I was around twelve years old. Perhaps it is only nostalgia, but in retrospect it seems like the mid-to-late ‘80s was an era of notably prime DeJohnette: the new Keith Jarrett trio with Gary Peacock on Standards vol. 1 and 2, Standards Live, and Still Live (1985-88), Ornette Coleman/Pat Metheny Song X (1986), the first Brecker solo album Michael Brecker, (1987), Dave Holland Triplicate with Steve Coleman (1988). Each of these classic records were essentially concertos for the drums, with DeJohnette always sounding like himself, very large and extremely in charge.
Since getting the sad news I’ve re-listened to them all, and they all still sound great. Indeed, Jack sounds better than ever:
the spacious open even-eighth “The Meaning of the Blues” and gospel backbeat “God Bless the Child” on Standards Vol. 1
the levitating swing of “Stella by Starlight” on Standards Live
the chiming cymbal symphony of “Extension/Intro” on Still Live
the back-in-the-brush whomp with Charlie Haden on “Mob Job” from Song X
the rhapsodic waltz against a brutally stark synthesizer on “Sea Glass” from Michael Brecker
the off-the-cuff dialoging with Steve Coleman on “Taking the Coltrane” and “Segment” from Triplicate.
These are my records, and Jack DeJohnette is my drummer.
The first time I saw Jarrett/Peacock/DeJohnette was in Minneapolis on October 27, 1987. I was so impressed with DeJohnette that I bought a used drum set from my slightly older friend Colin O’Neill the very next day. (The set cost all of $100, and I eventually brought it to New York, where Dave King used it for the first Bad Plus gigs at the Knitting Factory in 2001.)
The obits discuss the ‘60’s work with Charles Lloyd, Bill Evans and Miles Davis, but I like the music with Joe Henderson best: Tetragon from 1968 made “Invitation” a standard with an unbelievable medium swing vibe from Ron Carter and DeJohnette. Even more important is Power to the People from 1969, which ranks as high as anything, documenting that moment when the Fender Rhodes and the electric bass started being common in jazz. JoHen and Jack definitely had a thing together, there’s also a rip-roaring “Vis-a-Vis” on Black Is the Color with George Cables and Dave Holland, while much later in the ‘90s’s they took apart some Jobim with Herbie Hancock and Christian McBride on Double Rainbow. DeJohnette is also on Henderson’s final recording, Porgy and Bess, and last year an archival release of the two with McCoy Tyner and Henry Grimes in 1966, Forces of Nature: Live at Slugs’, was the talk of the cognoscenti. (I wrote up the album for The Nation.)
Dave Holland and Jack DeJohnette is a famous rhythm section. An early example of their fiery finesse is on “The Brain,” a Chick Corea quartet piece from 1969 with Bennie Maupin. That’s a hell of a track. Around this time they were with Miles Davis for a few years, including as part of the “lost quintet” with Wayne Shorter and Corea. Eventually Holland and DeJohnette would appear on about 25 additional albums together, including a stretch in the 1970s where they seemed to be the house rhythm section for ECM. Gateway was the collective trio with John Abercrombie: the countrified “Back-Woods Song” from the first album is famous, while “Opening” off the second is a prime example of a studio improv made immortal through a meticulous Eicher production. Even closer to my heart are the albums with the great Kenny Wheeler, Gnu High, Deer Wan, and Double, Double You, with Holland holding it down and DeJohnette rustling expansively in support of Wheeler’s mournful herald.
The most unfettered Holland/DeJohnette action on record is probably Holland’s own Triplicate with Steve Coleman (mentioned above). To play this freely and this relaxed in a studio environment is truly an accomplishment.
There are many more ECM albums with DeJohnette as a key sideman; some are stone classics, while the less familiar are nonetheless ennobled by peerless drumming. Abercrombie’s rousing Timeless has some of the best Jan Hammer on record, while Richie Beirach’s Elm (with George Mraz) is Beirach’s best trio date; Elm also begins with that essential ECM sonority, DeJohnette’s uptempo ride cymbal in graceful unaccompanied flight. Then there is Pat Metheny’s 80/81, a touchstone for a generation of musicians, with Metheny caught on mic after the end of a killing “Turnaround,” yelling, “Whoo! Boy! Jack DeJohnette, man!!!!”
DeJohnette also recorded prolifically as a leader, both with ECM and on other labels. They were usually fairly conceptual affairs, with avant-garde horn players, synthesizers, drum machines, percussionists, overdubbing, and a wild grab-bag of musical idioms. This area of the discography is not really to my taste, at least so far. In 1987 I automatically bought the new LP Irresistible Forces from DeJohnette’s Special Edition, and to this day I’ve never really known what to make of this music, despite high respect for the amazing talent involved: Greg Osby, Gary Thomas, Mick Goodrick, Lonnie Plaxico, and Nana Vasconcelos. Unlike all the other ‘80s albums I cite at the top of this post, Irresistible Forces doesn’t have a basic sonic image that registers and resonates. (Not only did I listen to the album at home, but also I saw the band live in New Orleans.) DeJohnette was a maximalist, someone who painted in every corner of the frame, and when he was in charge, he covered every base he could think of, which included playing excellent piano. (The piano is one thing, but what about his high-energy Coltrane-styled melodica solo on “Miles’ Mode” from his first album The DeJohnette Complex? Is this a bridge too far?) Again, I have reservations, but DeJohnette was true master, the highest of the highest, and I leave room to understand his work as a leader better in the future.
A pretty good snapshot of DeJohnette’s dominance is captured on a track with Lee Morgan. Live at the Lighthouse from 1970 was the trumpeter’s last record and a certified classic. Mickey Roker was the very great drummer powering the quintet with Bennie Maupin, Harold Mabern, and Jymie Merritt. The original album was four long tunes; more has come out in recent years, including the Morgan blues “Speedball,” where young DeJohnette sits in and has his say. It is an astonishing reversal of roles: Roker kept the band in line, and now suddenly the band has to keep the drummer in line. While Roker was a swinger of the old school, the kid offers cosmic swing, taking the most outrageous chances yet always landing on his feet. There will never be another more exciting drummer than Jack DeJohnette.
Corrections, 10/29: I incorrectly counted the number of records with Holland and DeJohnette together, it is over 40, not 25 (and neither number included the releases with Miles Davis). And apparently it is Charlie Haden, not Pat Metheny, who is exclaiming after the end of “Turnaround.”
One day long ago, I was behind the microphone at WPRB in Princeton doing my regular 4-7 pm shift. The studio phone rang and the voice on the other end identified himself as Jack DeJohnette, who politely asked if I would be interested in booking his band Compost at the school. I did so, and that was the beginning of a friendship that lasted more than 50 years, through my hiatus from jazz while producing rock videos and independent films, and after my return to run Verve, where as you noted he was an essential part of Joe Henderson’s later albums and also Herbie’s The New Standard. From the beginning, he and Lydia always showed me great kindness, and I was delighted when we were able to record and release Sound Travels at eOne Music with an all-star cast and Bob Sadin producing, in celebration his NEA award 13 years ago. It’s a good album, certainly not among his greatest, but it does have a warmth and intimacy that wears exceedingly well. A giant of the music and a great spirit. And my friend.
One of my all time favorite DeJohnette recordings is Betty Carter's Feed the Fire. Her trio of Geri Allen, Dave Holland , and Jack was a masterclass in how to accompany a great singer. An incredible live recording.