by Cecil Taylor Unit
1990, Enja Records

the sound: On June 18, 1976, pianist Cecil Taylor brought his five-piece free jazz unit to the Yugoslavia Jazz Festival in Lubljana. Joining Taylor were Ralphé Malik on trumpet, Jimmy Lyons on alto saxophone, David S. Ware on tenor saxophone and Marc Edwards on drums. As the concert began, the horn players repeated a plaintive six-note wail, while Taylor and Edwards plunked away indiscriminately at their instruments. It seemed like a prolonged sound check at first, but as the music dragged on, it gradually swelled in intensity, rising to a climactic cacophony of noise that continued without pause for over an hour. To the closed-minded listener of the recorded result, the concert is surely a maddening wreck of sonic distractions, like an auditorium full of warped jazz records playing in unison. And yet a finely tuned ear can discern shifting thematic elements to the music, occasional call-and-response sequences between instrumentalists that subtly permeate the subconscious. Each player embarks on extended improvisations, following Taylor’s lead as he devilishly navigates the piano keys with rapid plinks and plonks. When Taylor takes the spotlight for an unaccompanied solo some 45 minutes in, he builds to a devastatingly emotional crescendo that puts listeners in a dreamlike trance. Playing out in a single track titled “Streams and Chorus of Seed,” this 1990 restoration of the show on compact disc is close to 62 minutes of raw, unfettered improv.

the background: Listening to Taylor’s work from the 1970s, it may come as some surprise to learn that he was a classically trained pianist who began playing at the age of 6. Like most groundbreaking artists, he began his professional career performing the most prevalent styles of the day, dabbling with R&B and swing in the early 1950s. But as his career progressed, Taylor’s music became increasingly complex. He ignored musical conventions, squandering any shot at a mainstream audience but gaining the respect of forward-thinking musicians and critics. Taylor emerged as one of the first true free jazz pioneers, working with Coltrane and others in the late ’50s to advance the art. He began working with alto sax player Jimmy Lyons in the early ’60s, sparking a long-term partnership that would produce some of Taylor’s most wild and imaginative work. “Dark to Themselves” reflects the growth of that collaboration after 15 years.

the significance: “Part of what this music is about,” Taylor once said, “is not to be delineated exactly. It’s about magic and capturing spirits.” Arguably the greatest jazz improviser of all time, Taylor said he views music as a manifestation of God, an “eternal sound” that replicates the beauty of trees, stones and rivers. And although it may be difficult for the casual music fan to hear that beauty in Taylor’s abstract free jazz, the music’s potent force is undeniable. Foregoing the traditional verse-chorus-verse patterns of popular music, Taylor brings out the most vivid sonic textures of life, the whining steam pipes and honking horns and screeching birds all wrapped into one organic sound. His shattering of musical barriers paved the way not only for other free jazz artists, but for more daring and experimental rock bands, from King Crimson to The Mars Volta.