McCoy Tyner's Sound

courtesy Joe Alper

Before it gets too far away from me, I want to give a belated tip of the hat to the late McCoy Tyner, one of the architects of a sound that was key in the development of both jazz and improv-focused rock.  That would be John Coltrane's sound, of course, but what went frequently unremarked over the decades was just how much John Coltrane's sound was also really McCoy Tyner's sound: as Ben Ratliff puts it, "when you are thinking of Coltrane playing 'My Favorite Things' or 'A Love Supreme,' you may be thinking of the sound of Mr. Tyner almost as much as that of Coltrane’s saxophone."  If you are inclined to dig deeper, see David Graham in The Atlantic or pianist/blogger Ethan Iverson.

That means, then, that Tyner unintentionally laid the groundwork for all rock bands who took their cue to "rock out on two chords, Coltrane style" in Phil Lesh's words.  Early 60's Coltrane was a key source of that information for the Dead -- Light Into Ashes' post on this is a must read.  Bob Weir was explicit about the influence of Tyner on his own approach.  I am no musicologist, but the very general jist of what made Tyner's style so influential is that his approach to playing chords ("voicing" in musical terms) was done in a way that was ambiguous and "open" enough to sustain creativity (and attention) over long periods of repetition (i.e., the "two chords" of modal jazz, as opposed to the cycling chord progressions of jazz based on blues or pop music forms).  Part of what makes Weir such a non-traditional rhythm guitarist was his distinct voicings; not all of that came directly from Tyner, although Tyner was certainly who planted that seed.  But every other improvising rock band also owes a serious debt to McCoy Tyner.

On a smaller note, Tyner also wrote the mighty Sama Layuca, which was featured on his album of the same name in 1974, and was performed a handful of times by Garcia with Reconstruction.  3/31/79 or 4/17/79 or 8/10/79 are all fine versions that are worthy of your time and attention.  But you should go listen to some McCoy Tyner first.

it's my bee collection!

You know you're a deadhead when an off-beat article about a strange joke reminds you first of Bob Weir:
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/14/magazine/letter-of-recommendation-the-beekeeper-joke.html

As cringe-worthy as they are, I always appreciated when Weir was willing to fill some space onstage with a joke.  He would sometimes affect an ironic tone -- "ok, I guess someone's gotta be Mr. Show Biz right now" -- but just as often as not, it comes across more like a weird dude telling an awkward joke to fill some uncomfortable space.  Of course, intended or not, his jokes probably elicited as many blank stares as they did chuckles or groans.  Weir may have been joking more for the benefit of his bandmates than for his audience, but that doesn't matter -- in my mind, it makes them even better, given the context of a rock star resorting to tell a joke to cover for time in front of a large, expectant audience.

Even in print, the guy in the article tells the bee collection joke better than Bob did (I think, in Bob's version, the bees are in a box), but the effect is still the same.  Might one make the leap to say that much like this joke, the Dead's music sometimes undercuts, subverts expectations, leads us along expected paths into something unfamiliar, expresses the inconsistencies of the heart so succinctly that laughter fades into reflection?  Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke?  Fuck 'em, it's just a hobby.

10/16/89

Since this blog will likely focus mostly on the Dead and Jerry's various solo endeavors, it seems weirdly appropriate that the first post is on Bobby's birthday. I'm inclined to say that Kreutzmann took the cake for "best birthday shows," though Bob's birthday was marked by several good ones. While my tastes generally lean more towards 1974 than 1989, 10/16/89 is a show that is near and dear to my heart. When I was 15 or 16 I taped the second set off WBAI (NYC) and I was floored. It was one of those "okay, now I see what the big deal is" moments that really got my ass on the bus in a serious way.

http://archive.org/details/gd1989-10-16.mtx.hansokolow.96899.flac16

The show was released officially, but is still up at LMA. I'm not always a matrix guy, but this one does this show proud, particularly the excellent sounding second set, which has just enough ambiance to counter the "late era" sbd sterility. Heads debate the merit of the whole show, but I think it's a great one, period. Nicely spirited runs through Half Step, Stranger, and Memphis Blues make the first set more than just enjoyable, and a killer Let it Grow > Deal really turns up the heat for the main event.

The second set... well, just listen.  It's a perfectly constructed whole, with just the right mix of light and darkness.  Jerry's MIDI effects sound fresh and playful, not yet a part of the stock bag of tricks.

It's one of the great ones of the period.  Happy birthday, Bob!