max roach, RIP
Jazz drummer Max Roach died earlier today.
I hear about musicians dying just about every day, it seems, so it doesn’t always phase me, but hearing about Max Roach’s passing was sad.
During high school and some of college, I played in the jazz band, trumpet being my instrument. I listened to a lot of jazz through these years and I listened to a lot of trumpeters. The last jazz group I really listened to extensively, collecting a lot of their records was the Clifford Brown (my last in a series of favorite jazz trumpeters–such sense of melody, rhythm, everything) and Max Roach Quintet. At the time Roach’s drumming was there backing up Brown’s amazing trumpet playing, but after many listens, anyone could grow to appreciate the fantastic skill and innovative ability that Roach had behind the skins. It’s with a heavy heart that the world of music says goodbye to this drummer.
Clifford Brown and Max Roach Quintet - Cherokee (mp3)
August 17th, 2007 at 5:39 am
sad day to music…nice words you wrote there
August 17th, 2007 at 5:42 am
and by the way…it`s amazing but I`m also a trumpeter…we share almost the same story…
August 17th, 2007 at 9:37 pm
Many years ago; it was in 1970, or thereabouts, when I took my ten-year old daughter to a jazz concert, in Los Angeles. It was billed as “Jazz Giants,” and they were, each of them. Among the musicians reigned Max Roach. My daughter listened intently throughout the concert. When we left the auditorium, she spoke of Max, in a tone of awe, bordering on bewilderment, “Mom, I know he has only two arms and two legs, but…” and her voice trailed off, still thinking of Max. I knew Max rather well; it was in the mid-fifties, in Los Angeles. Max was working on the score of “Carmen Jones,” and he and Clifford Brown, Ritchie Powell and Sonny Rollins were appearing at a local jazz club. Max, Clifford and Ritchie shared an apartment. At that time, Ritchie and I were “an occasional item,” I often had dinner with Max, Ritchie and Clifford; I cooked (and not well, at that.) Ritchie and Clifford adored Max. His role was almost that of a father figure. In their eyes, Max could do no wrong. He, in turn, took loving care of his “flock.” Conversation was rife at the dinner table, with many voices going going in different directions. Max and I were naturaly antagonists. I found him to be well-informed, with a gift for the English language, but also humorless, unsmiling and self-absorbed. After the accident that took the lives of Clifford an Ritchie, we learned that Max had been the driver of the car; they were on their way to the next gig. How did Max ever get on with life after that? Goodby Max; you were an original.
August 17th, 2007 at 11:45 pm
Actually, Nancy Powell (Richie’s wife) was driving the car. As the NY Times obituary says, though, Roach was quite effected by their deaths and it plunged him into a period of depression and heavy drinking.
August 18th, 2007 at 9:21 am
The last of the hip men has finally gone to meet some very old friends whom he has not seen for quite a while…..