Uploaded June 2021 | Updated September 2026, 23 hours ago
Leroy Jenkins - Solo Concert (India Navigation, 1977)
Side A
1) Improvisation (00:00-08:17)
2) Why Am I Here (8:18-16:56)
3) Opus/Supo National Baptist Convention (16:57-25:46)
(For Side B see here: youtube.com/watch?v=uRkHevaGwks&ab_channel=EricJ.Doberman)
"Dedicated to Bruce Hayden, teacher and friend.- Leroy Jenkins.
This recording is composed of excerpts from a solo violin concert at the Washington Square Church, NYC, on January 11, 1977."
From a New York Times report on the concert: “Mr. Jenkins built Solemn, spare interludes into careening improvisations of dazzling virtuosity. Each time he terminated an improvisation to settle back into his theme there was an audible gasp from his audience, and finally he broke the tension the piece had generated by retreating into the wings, still improvising furiously.”
Leroy Jenkins - Solo Concert (India Navigation, 1977)
Side A
1) Improvisation (00:00-08:17)
2) Why Am I Here (8:18-16:56)
3) Opus/Supo National Baptist Convention (16:57-25:46)
(For Side B see here: youtube.com/watch?v=uRkHevaGwks&ab_channel=EricJ.Doberman)
"Dedicated to Bruce Hayden, teacher and friend.- Leroy Jenkins.
This recording is composed of excerpts from a solo violin concert at the Washington Square Church, NYC, on January 11, 1977."
From a New York Times report on the concert: “Mr. Jenkins built Solemn, spare interludes into careening improvisations of dazzling virtuosity. Each time he terminated an improvisation to settle back into his theme there was an audible gasp from his audience, and finally he broke the tension the piece had generated by retreating into the wings, still improvising furiously.”

![Muhal Richard Abrams The Bird Song Part 1
Muhal Richard Abrams (clarinet) Leroy Jenkins (violin) Charles Clark, Leonard Jones (bass) Thurman Barker (drums) David Moore (poet) [Anthony Braxton (alto saxophone), Maurice McIntyre (tenor saxophone) and Abrams (piano) are heard on the second part of the track (not included in this video)]
June 7th, 1967 // Sound Studios, Chicago, IL (USA)
Released in 1968 on the album Levels and Degrees of Light (Delmark Records)
The recitation here is from poet David Moore, subsequently known as Amos Mor, about whom I can find little information. References to birds might suggest jazz history: allusions to Charlie Parkers nickname, Bird, and to Eric Dolphys mimicking of birdsong in his flute playing; perhaps also, as Ronald Radano suggests (following Ralph Ellison), the bird as in-the-know trickster, even hipster (the word hip perhaps deriving from a Wolof word meaning a person who has opened his eyes), as musician tied to the natural world, away from the urbanised, mechanised world of modern America. This should not be taken as anti-technological primitivism, however: the recording was originally drenched in reverb, at Abrams request, and the combination of this electronic experimentation with Moores words places The Bird Song in a line of African-American modernism fusing magic, quasi-historical Afrocentricity, sci-fi, space travel and apocalypticism Sun Ra, Amiri Baraka, Octavia Butler, Henry Dumas, The Art Ensemble of Chicago.
The version posted here is from the CD re-issue, with the reverb removed: wile this enables us to better appreciate exactly what is going on, musically, and to hear every word of Moores mostly a-capella recitation (one reviewer notes the musical quality of his delivery, with its almost chromatic down-ward swoops), George Lewis argues that much of the works dramatic and emotional impact is lost in the transition dried up, rendered that much less fluid, that much less open. Nonetheless, without access to the original LP, this re-mastered version remains an essential item in any examination of the relation between poetry and free jazz, to be put alongside the likes of Joseph Jarmans Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City, Amiri Barakas Black Art, and Sun Ras songs, declamations and chants. Muhal Richard Abrams The Bird Song Part 1](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/J1NqTw7r0hc/mqdefault.jpg)
![Amiri Baraka with Fred Hopkins & David Murray - Rhythm and Blues (for Robert Williams, in exile)
Recorded at the public debut of David Murrays Big Band at the Public Theatre, New York, 2 July 1978, this audience recording features Baraka in a trio with Murray on tenor saxophone and bassist Fred Hopkins, reading a poem from The Dead Lecturer (1964). Baraka, Murray and Steve McCall made the album New Music-New Poetry in 1982: this is a rare recording of Baraka recording material from an earlier phase in his career.
The poem is dedicated to Robert F. Williams, president of the Monroe, NC chapter of the NAACP, author of Negroes with Guns, and an early advocate of armed resistance against white supremacy of the KKK. Williams went into exile after an attack from white racists, for which he and fellow defendant Mae Mallory were, with the distortion typical of the US imperial state, falsely accused of kidnapping a white couple who had taken shelter with them. The year before, Baraka and Williams were part of a delegation organised by the Fair Play to Cuba Committee who took a trip to Cuba in July 1960, a story Baraka tells in the essay Cuba Libre, which marked an important stage in his political coming to consciousness. The cause of Williams and his fellow defendant, Mae Mallory, who remained in the US, was also taken up in benefit readings by the Umbra Poets Workshop. From Cuba, Williams broadcast the show Radio Free Dixie and continued to agitate against white supremacy, and to link the struggles against colonialism and neo-colonialism in Cuba and on the African and Asian continents to the struggle against US racism. Williams story is told Timothy B. Tysons book Radio Free Dixie (1999).
From the poem:
For the well that marks the burned stores. For the deadly idiot of compromise
who shrieks compassion, and bids me love my neighbor. Even beyond the meaning
of such act as would give all my fathers dead ash to fertilize their bilious
land. Such act as would give me legend, This is the man who saved us
Spared us from the disappearance of the sixteenth note, the destruction
of the scale. This is the man who against the black pits of despairing genius
cried, Save the Popular Song. [...]
I am not moved. I will not move to save them. There is no
melody. Only the foot stomped, the roaring harmonies of need. The
hand banged on the table, waved in the air. The teeth pushed against
the lip. The face and fingers sweating. Let me alone, is praise enough
for these musicians.
Offered solely for educational purposes: please let me know if this infringes anyones copyright, and Ill remove. Amiri Baraka with Fred Hopkins & David Murray - Rhythm and Blues (for Robert Williams, in exile)](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/J1OvF4UBPfA/mqdefault.jpg)
![Joseph Jarman - Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City
Info
Joseph Jarman (recitation, alto sax) Christopher Gaddy (piano) Charles Clark (bass) Thurman Barker (drums).
Recorded October 20th 1966, Chicago Sound Studios.
Song For, released on Delmark in 1967, is one of the earliest documents of the Chicago-based Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM), and was pianist Christopher Gaddys only recording. Both he and bassist Charles Clark would die when aged just 24, in 1968 and 1969 respectively: Gaddy of internal disorders sustained during US Army service, Clark (who was the youngest member of the AACM) of a cerebral hemorrhage. Jarman, Barker (and the other musicians on the date, Fred Anderson and Steve McCall), meanwhile, would go on to have long careers in experimental jazz.
Jarmans poem Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City (subsequently the title of a 21st-century Art Ensemble of Chicago album, and the subject of a setting by Roscoe Mitchell for orchestra and baritone singer) is much more than just the Black Dada Nihilismus rip-off one reviewer dismissed it as being. Jarmans delivery is, like Leroi Jones/Amiri Barakas, deceptively quiet, almost menacing; but, whereas Barakas poem (and its companion piece, Black Art) was a deliberately inflammatory, confrontational work, Jarmans is more reflective, concerned, like Jones, with European modernism (dada/new word out of the twenties of chaos) but, though acutely aware of racial concerns (returned in the suntan jar suggesting, perhaps, the white mans desire for the exotic trappings of blackness whilst remaining truly white - everything but the burden), less tied to nationalistic cries for action (exit the tenderness for power/ black or white). Likewise, while some might dismiss this as beat poetry, based on a superficial understanding of its technical workings and general ambiance, in fact, the connection between music and words is actually, it could be argued, more fundamental than in the somewhat tentative experiments of Jack Kerouac or Kenneth Patchen from the previous decade.
As Sean Bonney puts it an essay named after Jarmans poem and published in the online poetics journal Pores: Even with a good poet such as Kerouac, whose writing was exemplary in finding a literary mirror of what music can do, the music is reduced to an accompaniment, and while supposedly subservient to the words, actually carries them and, essentially, does their work. An exploitative relationship that destroys the musics own systems of thought, and where the analogies with capitalist division of labour are absolutely clear. [However], in the most militant periods of the 1960s, poetry began to appear with more and more frequency on radical jazz records, and managed to escape the problems of jazz-poetry we mentioned above. The poems, in recordings such as Joseph Jarmans Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City, in Barbara Simmons work with Jackie McLean, and in Barakas own work with The New York Art Quartet, Sunny Murray and Sun Ra, were able to be incorporated into the sonic field in such a way that they became one equal element in the collective of voices that made up the piece. The music was no longer there as an accompaniment that allowed the poem to sound greater than it actually was, but would respond to the words only inasmuch as the poem would respond to the music. The poem would push the music into clear speech, and the music in its turn would take that speech into places that it wouldnt ordinarily be able to get to, thus refusing the too easy fixion of meaning that a less equal partnership of music and words would be unable to get beyond.
Photograph of Joseph Jarman (c) Amir Bey, 2009 Joseph Jarman - Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Jk5J9f5LFpI/mqdefault.jpg)






