by Rahsaan Roland Kirk
1997, 32 Jazz Records

the sound: Saxophonist Rahsaan Roland Kirk was a man of truly rare musical talents. His exceptional gifts included playing up to three saxophones at once, using circular breathing techniques to hold interminable notes, and playing flute with his nostrils. All of these feats can be heard on the three-disc box set, “Dog Years in the Fourth Ring,” which consists of 33 live and studio tracks, including original material and covers. The first disc begins with Kirk’s distinctive voice describing a whistling ring—a vivid illustration of his lifelong fascination with wind instruments of all types. He plays flute on the first song, introducing his indefinable style. Listening to the music on all three of the discs, it is not surprising to learn that Kirk drew much of his inspiration from dreams he had while sleeping. At times surreal, at others intensely passionate, and at others nearly unlistenable, the sound belongs exclusively to Kirk, an eccentric mad scientist of jazz. Although it is difficult to compare him to any other musician, Kirk paid frequent homage to his influences, covering songs like Count Basie’s “Lester Leaps In” and John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps.” That he considered jazz a quintessentially black American music is evident on “Blacknuss,” in which he joyously spells out the deliberately misspelled word. Perhaps the biggest treat and most defining moment on the entire box set comes at the end of the first disc, during a prolonged version of “I Say a Little Prayer.” When it seems like the song is winding down, Kirk suddenly fixes on a saxophone note and lets it hang for about three minutes, using circular breathing to hold the note without letting it break. After a while, the unceasing whine begins to grate on the ears, like an oversized mosquito buzzing around your head. But, just when you think your glasses are about to shatter, the band crashes back in and Kirk begins playing wildly, still without pausing to take a breath. To top things off, he later grabs a second horn and starts wailing away on both at once.

the background: Born in Columbus, Ohio, in 1936, Kirk went blind shortly after his birth. Perhaps his lack of sight fed into his internal visions and his insatiable ear, which continually sought new and unusual sounds. He collected archaic saxophones, clarinets, flutes, whistles and other instruments and learned how to play them all, sometimes all at once. But, his sound was not always easy on the palate, and his first album, released in 1956, went virtually unnoticed. An album and tour with Charles Mingus in the early 1960s helped bolster Kirk’s reputation, as did a later stint with Quincy Jones, and he eventually became a small sensation within the jazz world. A man who quite literally turned his dreams into realities, Kirk began playing three saxophones at once after seeing himself do so in a dream, and he added “Rahsaan” to his name after hearing himself called that in another dream. In an act that sealed his reputation as a jazz warrior, Kirk even continued to tour the world after a stroke left one side of his body paralyzed in 1975. He released somewhere around 40 recordings before dying of a second stroke in 1977, at the age of 41, and numerous other recordings have emerged post mortem, including the “Dog Years” set.

the significance: “I didn’t ask my mother to buy me a trumpet or a violin. I started right on the water hose. My uncle used to come over to the house and play on the piano, and I’d get a water hose and play the melody with him,” Kirk is quoted as saying in the sleeve of the “Dog Years” box set. How someone makes music with a water hose is a mystery, but if anyone can do it, it’s Kirk. His musical quirkiness and inexhaustible creative energy made for an imaginative voice that deserves its own chapter in the chronicles of jazz history. Although his style has rarely been copied or imitated, stretching music to the limits of outer space has always been an essential part of the jazz tradition. Great jazz and blues players easily slip through the cracks and are forgotten forever, but “Dog Years” gives listeners a chance to get a thorough dose of this little-known jazz genius.