Kevin Whitehead

Gene Ammons' drive and massive sound made him a ready competitor in friendly battles with other tenor players, with Dexter Gordon and Billy Eckstein's band, and then with Sonny Stitt, off and on for decades, starting around 1950. On his own in the 50s, Gene Ammons made plenty of up-tempo stompers, but he was also a master of tender ballads. His big tone was variable.

He could bleed or blat like a rhythm and blues honker or caress a note at a whisper. His grand gestures, sudden eruptions, and Lester Young-inspired repeated notes were especially effective at slow tempos, where he could really linger over a phrase. Gene Ammons on Old Folks from 1952. In that decade, recording engineers started making his sound even more striking by bathing it in reverb.

He could bleed or blat like a rhythm and blues honker or caress a note at a whisper. His grand gestures, sudden eruptions, and Lester Young-inspired repeated notes were especially effective at slow tempos, where he could really linger over a phrase. Gene Ammons on Old Folks from 1952. In that decade, recording engineers started making his sound even more striking by bathing it in reverb.

He could bleed or blat like a rhythm and blues honker or caress a note at a whisper. His grand gestures, sudden eruptions, and Lester Young-inspired repeated notes were especially effective at slow tempos, where he could really linger over a phrase. Gene Ammons on Old Folks from 1952. In that decade, recording engineers started making his sound even more striking by bathing it in reverb.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Canadian Sunset, 1962. Gene Ammons recorded a lot that year, but six years would pass before he'd record again. Ammons was a heroin user who spent most of the 1960s in an Illinois prison. On release, he got right back to work, resuming his bouts with Sonny Stitt and his recording career. The music had changed in his absence, with new electric instruments and pop influences.

Canadian Sunset, 1962. Gene Ammons recorded a lot that year, but six years would pass before he'd record again. Ammons was a heroin user who spent most of the 1960s in an Illinois prison. On release, he got right back to work, resuming his bouts with Sonny Stitt and his recording career. The music had changed in his absence, with new electric instruments and pop influences.

Canadian Sunset, 1962. Gene Ammons recorded a lot that year, but six years would pass before he'd record again. Ammons was a heroin user who spent most of the 1960s in an Illinois prison. On release, he got right back to work, resuming his bouts with Sonny Stitt and his recording career. The music had changed in his absence, with new electric instruments and pop influences.

Gene Ammons carried on as usual. He was a populist already. Gene Ammons died in 1974 of cancer and pneumonia at age 49, the uptempo bruiser who played some of the prettiest ballads around. His bold, painterly strokes, dramatic use of space, and feisty attitude could make him sound bigger than life size at any tempo.

Gene Ammons carried on as usual. He was a populist already. Gene Ammons died in 1974 of cancer and pneumonia at age 49, the uptempo bruiser who played some of the prettiest ballads around. His bold, painterly strokes, dramatic use of space, and feisty attitude could make him sound bigger than life size at any tempo.

Gene Ammons carried on as usual. He was a populist already. Gene Ammons died in 1974 of cancer and pneumonia at age 49, the uptempo bruiser who played some of the prettiest ballads around. His bold, painterly strokes, dramatic use of space, and feisty attitude could make him sound bigger than life size at any tempo.

Drummer Roy Haynes, what saxophonist Stan Getz in 1961. Haynes was on one of his several hot streaks in the early 60s, enlivening a few classic records with drum intros that grabbed your attention and sparked the action. Here's Roy Haynes kicking off a tune by Oliver Nelson. ¶¶ And one by pianist Andrew Hill. And one more, Eric Dolphy's G.W.

Drummer Roy Haynes, what saxophonist Stan Getz in 1961. Haynes was on one of his several hot streaks in the early 60s, enlivening a few classic records with drum intros that grabbed your attention and sparked the action. Here's Roy Haynes kicking off a tune by Oliver Nelson. ¶¶ And one by pianist Andrew Hill. And one more, Eric Dolphy's G.W.

Drummer Roy Haynes, what saxophonist Stan Getz in 1961. Haynes was on one of his several hot streaks in the early 60s, enlivening a few classic records with drum intros that grabbed your attention and sparked the action. Here's Roy Haynes kicking off a tune by Oliver Nelson. ¶¶ And one by pianist Andrew Hill. And one more, Eric Dolphy's G.W.

Behind the drums, Roy Haynes displayed power and intelligence. He was a quick and highly interactive listener who knew when to support a soloist and when to provoke them. He grew up in Boston, picking up the sticks around age seven, and started playing professionally before he even had a full drum set.

Behind the drums, Roy Haynes displayed power and intelligence. He was a quick and highly interactive listener who knew when to support a soloist and when to provoke them. He grew up in Boston, picking up the sticks around age seven, and started playing professionally before he even had a full drum set.

Behind the drums, Roy Haynes displayed power and intelligence. He was a quick and highly interactive listener who knew when to support a soloist and when to provoke them. He grew up in Boston, picking up the sticks around age seven, and started playing professionally before he even had a full drum set.

His parents were from Barbados, and a variety of Anglo and Latino Caribbean rhythms would inform his phrasing. On a 1951 Charlie Parker record date with a Latin flavor, Haynes on drum set seamlessly blends with Afro-Cuban conga and bongo players, then swings in straight jazz time on his own, moving easily from one groove to the other.