We interrupt these Frist Quarter Report posts for a few words on pianist McCoy Tyner, whose death was announced earlier this week.

I’m poorly placed to undertake an obit for Tyner, in that his entire (vast) catalogue as a band leader / solo artist remains a blind spot for me, and I know next to nothing of his life and times, personality or beliefs. But, I’ve been on a big John Coltrane kick over the past year or so, and during that time, it’s been McCoy’s contributions to his work through the first half of the ‘60s which have most consistently knocked me out.

Time after time, recordings begin with Trane laying down the law, as is only right and proper, but after that first solo / chorus part / whatever, it’s Tyner’s coveted 2nd solo spot that can really spin yr head around, whether digging baroque new variations out of the architecture of some standard or show tune in the earlier years of their collaboration, or riding serene and siren-like across the broiling sea of chaos once the free/spiritual currents began to take hold. To call his playing “inspired” in this context would be shallow, obvious and unnecessary, but what else can I do with these clumsy, bear-like word-paws?

I know – randomly pick a couple of examples from roughly either end of Tyner’s Trane journey which highlight the singular nature his artistry. That’s what I can do. Here then is ‘Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise’ from ‘Live at the Village Vanguard’ (1961), and ‘Compassion’ from ‘Meditations’ (1965). On the latter in particular, it’s almost impossible to believe that both hands hammering the piano belong to the same human being; just extraordinary, ambidextrous stuff, perfectly controlled whilst simultaneously sailing off in ten completely different directions. Enjoy.

Labels: deathblog, John Coltrane, McCoy Tyner