Kevin Whitehead
π€ PersonAppearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
In the new century, Haynes assembled his so-called Fountain of Youth Band, which featured a series of up-and-coming players. That band's last release session comes from 2011, when Roy Haynes was 86, capping a 65-year recording career studded with more jazz classics than we have time to even hint at. He was a heavy hitter whose limber beat could lift a bandstand.
In the new century, Haynes assembled his so-called Fountain of Youth Band, which featured a series of up-and-coming players. That band's last release session comes from 2011, when Roy Haynes was 86, capping a 65-year recording career studded with more jazz classics than we have time to even hint at. He was a heavy hitter whose limber beat could lift a bandstand.
In the new century, Haynes assembled his so-called Fountain of Youth Band, which featured a series of up-and-coming players. That band's last release session comes from 2011, when Roy Haynes was 86, capping a 65-year recording career studded with more jazz classics than we have time to even hint at. He was a heavy hitter whose limber beat could lift a bandstand.
That's alto saxophonist David Sanborn at his best. Scalding, eruptive, passionate, and phraseologically unpredictable. Jazz, blues, and gospel fused in his sound, and his ability to play with anybody from the Butterfield Blues Band to David Bowie to Tim Byrne made him a longtime presence and musical catalyst on late-night TV as a host, band member, or guest.
That's alto saxophonist David Sanborn at his best. Scalding, eruptive, passionate, and phraseologically unpredictable. Jazz, blues, and gospel fused in his sound, and his ability to play with anybody from the Butterfield Blues Band to David Bowie to Tim Byrne made him a longtime presence and musical catalyst on late-night TV as a host, band member, or guest.
That's alto saxophonist David Sanborn at his best. Scalding, eruptive, passionate, and phraseologically unpredictable. Jazz, blues, and gospel fused in his sound, and his ability to play with anybody from the Butterfield Blues Band to David Bowie to Tim Byrne made him a longtime presence and musical catalyst on late-night TV as a host, band member, or guest.
In a jazz setting, no one framed him better than arranger Gil Evans with the open-ended 12-minute Sanborn Concerto, Short Visit from 1977. As capacious as jazz is, some talents are too big for just one field. Entertainment dynamo Quincy Jones made a splash from the start as a spectacularly talented, fresh and original writer for big band in the 1950s.
In a jazz setting, no one framed him better than arranger Gil Evans with the open-ended 12-minute Sanborn Concerto, Short Visit from 1977. As capacious as jazz is, some talents are too big for just one field. Entertainment dynamo Quincy Jones made a splash from the start as a spectacularly talented, fresh and original writer for big band in the 1950s.
In a jazz setting, no one framed him better than arranger Gil Evans with the open-ended 12-minute Sanborn Concerto, Short Visit from 1977. As capacious as jazz is, some talents are too big for just one field. Entertainment dynamo Quincy Jones made a splash from the start as a spectacularly talented, fresh and original writer for big band in the 1950s.
On his version of Along Came Betty by another jazz great who passed this year, Benny Golson, Quincy's smooth writing and well-drilled musicians make silky muted brass pop. The deaths Quincy Jones ran up running his dream band are why he became a pop producer.
On his version of Along Came Betty by another jazz great who passed this year, Benny Golson, Quincy's smooth writing and well-drilled musicians make silky muted brass pop. The deaths Quincy Jones ran up running his dream band are why he became a pop producer.
On his version of Along Came Betty by another jazz great who passed this year, Benny Golson, Quincy's smooth writing and well-drilled musicians make silky muted brass pop. The deaths Quincy Jones ran up running his dream band are why he became a pop producer.
But even after Leslie Gore and Michael Jackson, he'd still promote jazz to a wider audience, presenting Duke Ellington as songwriter in a remarkable jazz vocalist-studded TV special, touting Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan to hip-hop listeners with Back on the Block, and before that, tipping his hat to the style of funky electric sax man Eddie Harris with the sitcom theme Sanford and Son.
But even after Leslie Gore and Michael Jackson, he'd still promote jazz to a wider audience, presenting Duke Ellington as songwriter in a remarkable jazz vocalist-studded TV special, touting Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan to hip-hop listeners with Back on the Block, and before that, tipping his hat to the style of funky electric sax man Eddie Harris with the sitcom theme Sanford and Son.
But even after Leslie Gore and Michael Jackson, he'd still promote jazz to a wider audience, presenting Duke Ellington as songwriter in a remarkable jazz vocalist-studded TV special, touting Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan to hip-hop listeners with Back on the Block, and before that, tipping his hat to the style of funky electric sax man Eddie Harris with the sitcom theme Sanford and Son.
Another crossover artist of sorts who passed this year, alto saxophonist Lou Donaldson, was the last survivor of Art Blakey's original 1954 Jazz Messengers. Back then, all hip young alto players emulated the Quicksilver Charlie Parker, Donaldson included, but his own feisty personality peaked through in his sly phrasing. ΒΆΒΆ Lou Donaldson on Quicksilver, 1954.
Another crossover artist of sorts who passed this year, alto saxophonist Lou Donaldson, was the last survivor of Art Blakey's original 1954 Jazz Messengers. Back then, all hip young alto players emulated the Quicksilver Charlie Parker, Donaldson included, but his own feisty personality peaked through in his sly phrasing. ΒΆΒΆ Lou Donaldson on Quicksilver, 1954.
Another crossover artist of sorts who passed this year, alto saxophonist Lou Donaldson, was the last survivor of Art Blakey's original 1954 Jazz Messengers. Back then, all hip young alto players emulated the Quicksilver Charlie Parker, Donaldson included, but his own feisty personality peaked through in his sly phrasing. ΒΆΒΆ Lou Donaldson on Quicksilver, 1954.
Late in life, he criticized young musicians for straying from the true jazz path. In the 1960s, though, with family to support, Donaldson started making populist records long before David Sanborn. Danceable music aimed at party people, not jazz snobs. And that's okay. On his 1969 cover of Johnny Taylor's Who's Makin' Love, Donaldson gets credibly funky.
Late in life, he criticized young musicians for straying from the true jazz path. In the 1960s, though, with family to support, Donaldson started making populist records long before David Sanborn. Danceable music aimed at party people, not jazz snobs. And that's okay. On his 1969 cover of Johnny Taylor's Who's Makin' Love, Donaldson gets credibly funky.