Customer Reviews

Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall

5 star:		(115)
4 star:		(9)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

With so many things going wrong in the world, it's nice to see one important thing going right-- a certain Mr. Applebaum stumbles onto the recordings at the Library of Congress in January, a crack team spends the better part of the year restoring and remastering, and Blue Note and Thelonious Records put out the CD in September. The music on the CD is astonishing, and the quality of the recording is pristine beyond anyone's expectations. You could not cook up a sweeter story: for almost 50 years, we've heard the complaints that Monk and Coltrane's 5-month partnership was criminally underrecorded due to "non-musical conflicts" - the five glorious tracks put out by Riverside, and some pitifully recorded sets from the Five Spot Cafe were all that came out of it. Such a lost opportunity, particularly for Coltrane fans, because it was well-known (though not well-documented) that the saxophonist--his style, his musical conception--became totally liberated by the challenge of playing Monk's compositions with Monk.
This is the fabled document that everyone was desperate to hear, and it seems so improbable that it should appear so suddenly, so without incident, like any common reissue, that the built-up anticipation may at first occlude the actual material on the disc. But listen twice, and then three times, and then more...
You will hear John Coltrane surging forth, taking a quantum leap from the shaky but determined voice of Miles Davis' early quintet to the astonishing technique that would lead him into "Giant Steps", into his next work with Miles, and into the 1960s, where--though the charm of many of those recordings has worn off a bit for me--he became a prophet for so many musicians, and not just saxophone players. I'm not sure if it's Monk the writer, or Monk the player, or both, that enabled Coltrane to break free. But whatever the catalyst, Trane gets plenty of space and freedom on these tracks to completely lose his mind and go into the stream-of-consciousness solos that immortalized him. The same kind of ferocity that we heard on "Trinkle Tinkle" from that Riverside album is displayed here on the up-tempo tracks. As for the ballads, "Crepuscule with Nellie" has rarely sounded better, and an extended "Monk's Mood" achieves an even more sublime strangeness than we are accustomed to from Monk.
Ah, but half a century later, Monk can still surprise. He must certainly have been aware of how quickly and dramatically his disciple was growing, and he elevated his game appropriately. This is a Monk that we are not so familiar with... it's not his best piano performance, but it definitely stands out now and augments the rest of his output. He doesn't go off the map, but he seems trickier, more freewheeling in his solos, more deliberate in his rhythm work behind Coltrane. Both men are obviously in a state of exuberant transition. Gratitude and appreciation are the only proper responses.
As a side note, these two sets were recorded at Carnegie Hall on November 29th, 1957 as part of a benefit for something called the Morningside Community Center. Also on the bill? Billie Holiday, Dizzy Gillespie's orchestra, Ray Charles, and Sonny Rollins. Has Carnegie Hall ever seen a better night??

Recently it seems stunning jazz recordings have been unearthed every few months-- this piece, Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane from Carnegie Hall on November 29, 1957, is another such piece.

A bit of historical context for the those unaware-- in 1957, Coltrane was thrown out of Miles Davis' band for heroin use. He managed to kick his habit and ended up joining Thelonious Monk for study and an extended residency at the Five Spot, then a club in Manhattan. Listeners testify that Trane was pretty out of place at the beginning, but that by the end of their time there (several months, several nights a week), Trane was on fire, pushing himself and the leader. These shows were sadly totally undocumented, the only evidence of the two of them working together (prior to this release) was a brief studio session (three tunes, if I recall) from 1957 and a low fidelity recording from 1958 where Coltrane sat in with Monk's band. In late November of 1957, towards the end of his residency at the Five Spot, Monk was invited to perform at an all-star benefit fundraiser at Carnegie Hall. This performance was recorded by something called the Voice of America and recently unearthed in the Library of Congress archives by recording lab supervisor Larry Appelbaum and prepared for release by producer Michael Cuscuna (famous for his restorative work on Blue Note, Impulse! and his own Mosaic label) and Monk's son, drummer T.S. Monk.

Monk's performance consisted of two brief sets (each around 25 minutes, although the second one cuts off early) with his working quartet from the Five Spot gig-- the leader on piano, Coltrane on tenor sax, Ahmed Abdul-Malik on bass and Shadow Wilson on drums. It is obvious to any listener that this group had been playing together for quite a while, given the near-psychic level of interaction between the group. As a rule, Monk introduces the themes and the rest of the band joins in-- it seems Monk was viewing his performances as continual by this point as there is no pause between pieces.

The first set begins with a meditative solo piano on "Monk's Mood" that eventually evolves into a duet with Trane on an almost bleak sax as the leader switches to an accompaniment, responding to Coltrane's performance. Coltrane switches to the theme and the rest of the band joins. The remainder of the set finds the quartet in full flight, mostly meditative and tight-- particular highlights include the stunning "Crepuscule with Nellie" (performed without any solo space), Monk's unpredictable nonlinear theme variations solo on "Nutty" and downright stunning cymbal work from Wilson on "Epistrophy" (curiously enough, he doesn't repeat this stunning pattern on the second set).

The second set has that late show feel to it-- it's quite a bit looser, with the band stretching out and feels less arranged, providing a nice contrast to the first set. Trane in particular is on fire and exploratory, his soloing on "Sweet and Lovely" (the only standard on the set) takes off when Monk drops out and Abdul-Malik and Wilson move to double time, but as fierce as he is here, he really cuts loose on "Blue Monk", exploring the piece and pushing it to its limits, including what sounds as a reach towards the sort of free playing he'd do a decade later. Monk seems equally inspired by Trane on "Blue Monk", his own soloing is exciting and equally fiery. It's just a pity that "Epistrophy" cuts off early and we don't get the full set.

A concern with any "found recording" is always going to be sound-- the '58 Five Spot show sounds horrible, this one is a revelation. Professionally recorded, it is crisp, clean, well balanced, with good bass and even response, further enhancing its value. The liner notes include several essays providing historical context, notes on the performance (both individual and in general) and on the finding of these recordings that make for an interesting read (and provide great source material for background information for reviews....).

Bottom line-- this is a great find, a spectacular show, and it sounds great. Jazz fans will probably already have earmarked this for purchase, more casual listeners may find this equally engaging, it's quite a show. Highly recommended.

WOW! This album is everything they are saying and then some. Consider: Monk is playing a Carnegie Hall grand piano. Repeat that phrase to yourself in capital letters, with six exclamation points at the end. It matters. You never heard him sound so fantastic. You realize that the pianos you've heard him record on before are OK instruments, in tune and so on, but this is a PIANO. And he sounds, well, grand. And you can hear him loving sounding grand. Monk is magnificent here. He begins the first tune, "Monk's Mood," solo, sounding like God. And then Coltrane comes in--and he sounds like God too. And why not? It's that glorious year, 1957, the year of Lush Life; Trane is suddenly Trane, and he knows it. You can hear that he knows it. He's stretching and bending like a gymnast; he can do anything he wants to do. Six months earlier, that was not the case. BUT ALSO: his tone is gorgeous. Later, in the famous quartet, his sound changes, becomes harder, steelier, more incisive, a little "uglier." I use that adjective advisedly. But in 1957, there's still Lester in his sound. Compared to most other players of the time (except for Don Byas and all Don Byas-ites), his tone sound pretty stripped down, but compared to later Trane he still sounds fat, and still employs vibrato (though lightly and shallowly). This is what I like about Trane in 1957; it's what makes Lush Life such a great album: the tone. Tone, tone, tone; Ben Webster taught us it's all about tone, even if what you play is stupid (as Webster sometimes was, when he was drunk). Trane was always absolutely conscious of the implications of tone, which is why he changed later. He learned from Bird how to strip it down, cut out the fat, which is also to cut out a certain kind of sonic richness, in the interest of something else. Well, here, he's still cooking with duck fat. He sounds absolutely amazing.

And then there's the room. You can hear Carnegie Hall in the music, that huge acoustically beautiful space all around these cats. The room sounds like God too. Whoever the Voice of America engineer who rigged the session was (nobody seems to know), he nailed it. You can hear everything, and everything sounds just right. When Shadow Wilson and Ahmed Abdul-Malik follow Trane into the tune, by god THEY sound like God.

So: you gotta stop whatever you're doing, hop in your car and get thee to a place of musical commerce! I'm telling you, your soul needs this. It is The Real Deal. Just when we didn't think there would ever again be any more, here it is.

I'm not gonna lie too you, I'm one of those casual jazz listeners eluded to in a previous review from an individual that knows far more about the subject, and its protagonists, than I do. Perhaps the day will come when I have the kinds of relationships with these timeless tracks that others seem to, but until that day, there are cd's such as this. And as long as I'm being so candid, I'd like to point out that the only other Coltrane I own are his Village Vanguard recordings, which, when I purchased, I was wholly unprepared for. I would save you, my fellow novice, from some early frustration by advising you stay away from Coltrane in his later years, until you've put in some time with 'entry level' jazz. The VV series was recorded in '61 (this cd in '57), and as any jazzophile will tell you, Coltrane had surpassed his art to the point that beginners, such as myself, will get lost. Getting lost means that, listening to such advanced Jazz, all you hear is noise at times. What I could not know then, was that I had bypassed an entire process building up to those classic recordings in Greenwich Village.

I navigate life mostly by virtue of analogy, and I look at Jazz like this. Jazz is like Scotch. When you're young, and you take a sip, you're overwhelmed. Your palette lacks the sophistication, and the fortitude to get beyond that caustic first impression. However, in time, and after many 'glasses', you have that eureka moment, and the experience takes on an entirely new dimension. These recently unearthed recordings are such a moment. Their appeal, and their quality are universally appreciable. Coltrane and Monk together, to me, are tantamount to Rachmaninov and Shostakovich coming together to jam. What a joy, and a rare treat this album is! The sound fidelity is very impressive, as are the performances by two of Jazz's Godzilla-esque fathers. This album is a rare treat, a perfect slice of history, hidden away for almost 50 years, only to reemerge to make us fall in love all over again; novice and addict alike. Treat yourself, because Jazz is the best music in the world when stuck in traffic, or sipping scotch and analogizing the world away.

I could go on and on about the good points of this CD, but it would be pointless seeing that it has a 4.5 star rating after 97 reviews. I will however clear up some inaccurate statements, so those who are thinking about purchasing the CD won't be unjustly persuaded, and those new to Jazz won't take such statements as fact.

One of the previous posters used the word pedantic to describe a certain review. I don't think he could have chosen a better word. Spouting off the history of the word "Jazz" is a trivial at best, and does not make you an expert on the music. I personally feel the problem with music today is the hundreds of misconceptions, mostly started by elitist in their quest to look down on everyone. Telling someone they shouldn't like an album because "you say so" is ridiculous; telling them to do so because you play saxophone, so you "know good music" is the definition of elitist.

Everyone is entitled to like whatever they choose, but D. N Voetberg's review calling John Coltrane overrated is nothing short of asinine. What's even more absurd is the comparison to Kenny G - an inaccurate comparison that I'm BEYOND tired of seeing made here on Amazon. John Coltrane has 3 timeless Jazz classics in A Love Supreme, Giant Steps, and Blue Train (or My Favorite Things, depending on who you ask). Giant Steps is the standard by which all saxophonists are judged, and A Love Supreme simply speaks for itself. In addition to that he's appeared on 2 more historic Jazz albums with the Miles Davis hits 'Round About Midnight and Kind of Blue. Although Kenny G has numerous mainstream hits, he lacks a single classic Jazz album, and even further lacks any significant contributions to the genre. That makes it somewhat absurd to compare him to someone that has 5 ground-breaking albums of their own.

It's actually quite ironic that he mentions Kenny G as superior to Coltrane, seeing how it was John Coltrane that single-handily resurrected the soprano saxophone. With his 1960 release "My Favorite Things", Coltrane brought notoriety to the instrument by incorporating it into his compositions. At the time, the soprano sax was considered obsolete, and was virtually extinct in Jazz. So without Coltrane, there is no Kenny G.

We all are entitled to our own opinions, but you have to be more responsible about trying to pass your own off as fact. By doing so, you can wrongly influence a lot of people, and turn them off from music that may suit them perfectly - even if it isn't to your own liking.

WOW! This album is everything they are saying and then some. Consider: Monk is playing a Carnegie Hall grand piano. Repeat that phrase to yourself in capital letters, with six exclamation points at the end. It matters. You never heard him sound so fantastic. You realize that the pianos you've heard him record on before are OK instruments, in tune and so on, but this is a PIANO. And he sounds, well, grand. And you can hear him loving sounding grand. Monk is magnificent here. He begins the first tune, "Monk's Mood," solo, sounding like God. And then Coltrane comes in--and he sounds like God too. And why not? It's that glorious year, 1957, the year of Lush Life; Trane is suddenly Trane, and he knows it. You can hear that he knows it. He's stretching and bending like a gymnast; he can do anything he wants to do. Six months earlier, that was not the case. BUT ALSO: his tone is gorgeous. Later, in the famous quartet, his sound changes, becomes harder, steelier, more incisive, a little "uglier." I use that adjective advisedly. But in 1957, there's still Lester in his sound. Compared to most other players of the time (except for Don Byas and all Don Byas-ites), his tone sound pretty stripped down, but compared to later Trane he still sounds fat, and still employs vibrato (though lightly and shallowly). This is what I like about Trane in 1957; it's what makes Lush Life such a great album: the tone. Tone, tone, tone; Ben Webster taught us it's all about tone, even if what you play is stupid (as Webster sometimes was, when he was drunk). Trane was always absolutely conscious of the implications of tone, which is why he changed later. He learned from Bird how to strip it down, cut out the fat, which is also to cut out a certain kind of sonic richness, in the interest of something else. Well, here, he's still cooking with duck fat. He sounds absolutely amazing.

And then there's the room. You can hear Carnegie Hall in the music, that huge acoustically beautiful space all around these cats. The room sounds like God too. Whoever the Voice of America engineer who rigged the session was (nobody seems to know), he nailed it. You can hear everything, and everything sounds just right. When Shadow Wilson and Ahmed Abdul-Malik follow Trane into the tune, by god THEY sound like God.

So: you gotta stop whatever you're doing, hop in your car and get thee to a place of musical commerce! I'm telling you, your soul needs this. It is The Real Deal. Just when we didn't think there would ever again be any more, here it is.

I hope all the other 'lost jazz' at the Library of Congress is discovered and released during my lifetime. The shock still has not worn off regarding this priceless recording. For those unaware, this Carnegie Hall concert was 'discovered' in February of 2005 at the Library of Congress. What is even more tantalizing is the sound quality. It sounds as if it was recorded yesterday. This could very well be the greatest Jazz Discovery of the last 20 years.

In 1957, as Thelonius Monk was ending his tour of duty at New York's Five Spot Cafe, he played a benefit concert at Carnegie Hall with Sax-God John Coltrane and Ahmed Abdul-Malik (bass) and Shadow Wilson (drums). By this time, Trane and Monk had been performing together for months...almost every night, and the duo's tightness is breathtaking in this concert. It is in his playing with Monk that Coltrane would develop the harmony and lyricism that would become a staple of his later recordings on Atlantic and Impulse.

In my opinion, the highlights of this concert are 'Nutty,' 'Epistrophy,' and 'Blue Monk.' The concert is divided into two sets. The early show is much more relaxed as it opens with 'Monk's Mood'. Monk plays the opening theme and the rest of the band follows. This is the same for all the tracks. The late show is much more intense, as most second sets tend to be. We can already hear Coltrane developing his "sheets of sound" during his solo on 'Blue Monk.' The recording ends a minute before the completion of 'Epistrophy,' but who cares? This release is the greatest discovery in Jazz in a very long time.

Even though it was released in 2005, I consider this Carnegie Hall concert to be just as important as records like KIND OF BLUE, GIANT STEPS, and BLUE TRAIN. I guarantee you will be blown away by the sound quality alone.

After reading about the remarkable discovery of this Voice of America recording of the 1957 Thelonious Monk Quartet, I was, of course, intrigued by the possibility of similar discoveries, but perhaps I was not so excited as I should have been. This is a "lost" recording of an almost legendary group, and because up until now the quartet's recordings were very limited--"Monk's Music" (Riverside) and "Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane" (Jazzland/Riverside) were recorded in the studio in 1957. The lo-fi Bluenote recording "Thelonious Monk Quartet Live at the Five Spot--Discovery" is the other known recording of this quartet. Those discs recorded emerging giants but they did not record the legend. Until now the stories of the quartet's greatness were nearly apocryphal accounts of spectacular interplay, improvisation, and growth--things akin to the Charlie Parker/Dizzy Gillespie groups that revolutionized jazz. This Carnegie Hall recording is the real thing. Not only is Monk in spectacular form--extending himself to lyrical passages and playing as the genius that he was--but Coltrane is coherent, focused, even linear. Monk is playing as if inspired, and his "student" has developed to the point that both musicians elicit the joy and delight at one another's creative gifts, each augmenting the other, feeding the other, so that their music transcends individual genius. These are great renditions of familiar Monk tunes. Anchored by Ahmed Abdul-Malik on bass and Shadow Wilson on drums, Monk and Trane played a memorable concert. "Monk's Mood," "Evidence," "Crespuscule with Nellie," "Nutty," "Bye-Ya," and "Blue Monk" are augmented by the Standard, "Sweet and Lovely" (Arnheim). The recording quality is clean and pure--both artistically and technically. The other recordings mentioned earlier showed what the collaboration was capable of being. These recordings show what it was. As I suggested above, this could have been a simple attempt to sell lost music, but it is, in fact, the restitution of lost treasure. This album is among the few that belong in every jazz collection.

Five Stars? SIX, for sure. New York City hall had given up on Monk! Miles had given up on Coltrane! When Monk's legalities and Coltrane's health allowed, Monk was the first to reach out to Coltrane for his first NYC gigs. A meeting of KINDRED SOULS in need of relaunching their careers and, in the process, REVITALIZING Monk's music. The historic results of their meetings are documented on other CD's as well, but this rare jewel of a recording managed to slip by everyone for decades, hidden away on Voice of America tapes. All jazz fans should hear this CD, and 'to hear it, is to want it'.

Trust me, you may know Monk's songs by heart but these performances at Carnegie Hall have their own fabulous iridescence that demand a place among your most treasured jazz music. The CD yearns for deep concentration that will yield boat loads of enjoyment from some truly stunning solos. As noted elsewhere, it's a pure pleasure to hear Monk on a perfectly tuned concert grand piano that has been played by other masters of classical, jazz, and pop music. He deserved it ! And Coltrane added ANOTHER DIMENSION to Monk's music. A dimension different from Rollins and Rouse. Every song is a "Piece D'Resistance".

The Early Show: Cutting sharply but deeply.
Monk's arpeggios behind Coltrane's magnificent runs on "Monk's Mood" are fabulous, in and out of tempo. "Evidence" has an unusual density not heard before. The unison head notes are pure beauty and the rhythm section of Shadow Wilson and Ahmed Adbul-Malik gets it right on time. "Crespuscule with Nellie" becomes a delta blues of rare beauty and empathy. Monk's solo on "Nutty" is spellbinding and Trane makes his solo memorable as well. "Epistrophy" once again proves that Monk was able to squeeze 'surprise' out of his most well-known compositions. Check out Shadow's protean cymbal work, adding an unusual color to the head.

The Late Show: More arranged structure but longer, looser performances.
Throughly warmed up to it's environs, the quartet takes it to another level with "Bye-ya". Check out Trane's unique launch into this solo. And Monk is the "Comp Master", for sure. "Sheets of sound" make their first definitive appearance as Trane tears out huge chunks of wonderfulness from the theme. Monk polishes up a jewel of a solo. "Sweet & Lovely" finds Monks carving out 'sweet' territory on the song, while Trane plays background harmony until he steps forward with an extended, sweeping, gear-shifting 'lovely' group of statements. "Blue Monk" has Trane's best solo moments of the night, slightly ahead of "S&L". And the fragmented "Epistrophy" is a set closer with Trane really setting sail for distant shores, Monk's incomplete solo fittingly fades into history, unfinished. As all jazz should be!

Thank you, T.S.Monk, Michael Cuscuna, Lewis Porter, Larry Appelbaum, Coltrane family, and thank you Blue Note Records. If you watch the BET Jazz Cable Channel, look for the T.S. Monk piece on how this recording was found, revitalized, and remastered. Fascinating piece of memorabilia. "Bye-ya"!
(Note: don't give up, Larry, find those Rollins and Gillespie tapes from the same concert, please)

This is another one of those suprise jazz records that qualifies as an impressive archeological find and, among those most enthusiastic, as a next-in-order wonder of the world.

The tally says my little offering is No. 70 and no, I didn't get a chance to cruise through all of the previous 69.

Many of us are already familiar with the historical context of this album. In between his two stints with Miles, Trane spent a long year, give or take, playing with Thelonius Monk. While many agree he learned from Monk, many more don't understand exactly WHAT he learned.

The answer can be summed up in two words: Motivic Structure.

The zen, holy-grail, boss, hitbound, stupendous, collosal, retroactive and pre-exsiting secret of jazz soloing that too many people climb (Mt.) Everest, drop acid and jump out of airplanes without discovering is that a good jazz solo behaves in much the same manner as a good melody.

Perhaps motif is too fancy a word for the contemporary plebiscitarian music anti-hero. Fine and dandy. Instead, let's just call it a HOOK.

Whatever you call it, every good melody has one -- from the Ta-ta-ta-TAH that opens Beethoven's 5th Symphony to the Star Spangled Banner where the rhythm of "Oh say can you see" gets picked up in "And the rocket's red glare."

Jazz solos, when they work, are good for the same reason. It's been that way all along. If you don't believe it, dig out a copy of the old Smithsonian Classic Jazz collection, go to Record 1, Side 1, and treat yourself to King Oliver's horn solo on Dippermouth Blues. Wah-WAAAAAHHH-wah-wah-wah.

In Trane's first recordings with Miles, you can hear some dandy potential, but there is also an obvious lack of direction. While it's easy enough to blame it all on lifestyle, the real culprit is -- you guessed it -- lack of motivic structure.

The idea of discussing the relentlessly idiosyncratic Thelonius Shere Monk and structure together borders on the obscene for many who have fallen in love with this individual's very singular persona. Nevertheless, when the focus shifts from personality to actual music, Monk's sense of form and talent for motivic structure are among the best in all of jazz. Go back and listen to Round Midnight, and watch how the rhythmic figure introduced in "it begins to TELL" gets picked up in "I do very WELL" and so on through the tune.

And THIS is what Trane learned from Monk, perhaps as much through osmosis as any other method. No, I wasn't there, but you can hear in all the rest of Coltrane's playing -- including the "sheets of sound," including the modal "My Favorite Things," even in a mind-boggling drums/sax duet with Rashid Ali entitled "Interstellar Space."

For any young or otherwise developing jazz players reading this, please note that, although multitudes of players come up with multitudes of good ideas, the difference in the better players lies in what they DO with those ideas -- how they DEVELOP them. One of the highest compliments any soloist can earn is to have "a good sense of form."

So, next time you come up with your own next great lick of the century, go one step further and work it through an entire chorus of shifting chord changes. Then, take the same rhythm pattern and plug in slightly different notes.

That's motivic structure, that's Monk and -- after 1956 -- that was Trane, too.

There's the motif. The ensuing opportunity is yours!