It’s well known that the world of jazz is full of original figures who have a mission and tenaciously and utterly devote their energies, even their lives, to it. There are cases that make even the most die-hard fans of certain rock groups pale in comparison.
Many years ago, the esteemed Mosaic introduced us to a certain Dean Benedetti, a saxophonist of some caliber who was active on the West Coast in the 1940s.
In 1945, he met Charlie Parker, and it was a true revelation on his way to 52nd Street: in addition to converting his band to bebop, from then on he followed Parker like a shadow, recording his solos with an amateur vinyl recorder. His commitment to the Parker legend was total, including excesses and a premature death at age 34 from a terrible muscle disease that struck him in 1957 in Torre del Lago, his family’s birthplace (yes, the well-known Puccini place… sic!).
Just recently, we learned of the existence of a certain Frank Tiberi (yes, another ‘paisan,’ one of the many who populate the history of jazz), a musician himself, who from 1961 to 1965 followed John Coltrane and his groups in their performances at clubs in New York and Philadelphia. Along with him, a portable tape recorder, about which, unfortunately, nothing is known. Apparently, he amassed an archive of recordings that, if released in their entirety, would fill more than 80 CDs. Incredible, another example of absolute dedication.
After more than 60 years of maturing in the back of a closet, our Tiberi had the idea to commemorate the centenary of Coltrane’s birth by submitting all his tapes to a label capable of evaluating them. Naturally, the label had to be none other than Impulse!, the home of “new wave jazz,” as its logo proclaimed: in addition to several other gems, its catalog includes nearly the entire studio output of the late Trane, the most mature and innovative.
And since Record Store Day looms on April 18th (an occasion taken very seriously in the States, while in our country record stores have almost disappeared, thanks in part to the real estate speculation that is disfiguring our cities, both large and small), two tracks have been selected, “Giant Steps” and “Satellite,” which will be included on the usual limited-edition audiophile LP (reportedly 6,000 copies), which will enrich the collections of the happy few with “gold” credit cards. It’s worth noting that on the two tracks in question, Coltrane is joined not only by his faithful McCoy Tyner, but also “probably” by Steve Davis on bass and Pete LaRoca on drums: quite an intriguing prospect (although a certain “ghostly” nature to the material can already be discerned, with uncertain attributions of location, date, and lineup).
“Satellite” from a splendid Atlantic box set from many years ago… It’s recently been one of Brad Mehldau’s favorite concert tracks.
Meanwhile, however, the bulk of the tapes are still being sifted through, selecting the recordings that can serve as the basis for a painstaking audio restoration that will make them publishable. A CD box set, of as yet unspecified size, is scheduled for release next September. It will contain the best and most salvageable pieces from this little treasure trove. Undoubtedly, the silver disc is the most suitable format for these authentic relics, given both the length of Coltrane’s live improvisations and the presumably modest original audio quality, which must be supported by the broader dynamic range and better definition of the digital disc.
What can we say about this news? It’s certainly excellent for the large group of Coltrane devotees: as the icon above shows, a church in San Francisco has even been dedicated to him. But even leaving Frisco, the hipster homeland, and crossing the Pacific, a “John and Alice Coltrane House” was built in Osaka, a more secular and less extravagant place that testifies to the seriousness and depth of Japanese admiration for the man of Hamlet, who, after his historic 1966 tour (which he undertook while already battling the cancer that would kill him a few months later), is considered a figure of great stature and spiritual inspiration. The Japanese have not forgotten his stop in Nagasaki.
From “Chasin’ Trane.” I will never tire of recommending this magnificent film, valuable as a document, but also as a great example of cinema—don’t call it a documentary.
But what do we, ordinary, seasoned and disenchanted jazz addicts, think of this? Given that every time I hear Coltrane even today (or rather, especially today) I get a jump start, just like the first time I heard him at 13 years old one distant summer, I can certainly observe that Coltrane’s live performances are extensively documented by official recordings (particularly those on Impulse!, thanks to Rudy Van Gelder and Bob Thiele) as well as by unreleased recordings released in recent years that meet professional audio and editorial standards.
Let’s hope the curators of the future extended edition of the ‘Tiberi Tapes’ will focus on selecting recordings where Coltrane appears in unusual contexts, different from those of the famous Tyner/Garrison/Jones quartet. Naturally, we’ll have to take into account the quality of the tapes, which is likely precarious given that the very young Tiberi of 1961-65 would hardly have been able to afford the highly sophisticated equipment used by other bootleggers who have recently released highly significant historical recordings.
In any case, if they’re roses, they’ll bloom, and we’re ready to pick them in due time and when we know more. We wish Coltrane and his many admirers the same good luck and loving care we’ve been giving this year’s other centenary these days: but that’s a story for another story. Stay tuned, as usual.
Speaking of the much-vaunted (never enough) ‘Chasi’ Trane,’ here’s a beautiful sequence that uses refined visual effects to recount the making of ‘A Love Supreme.’ The precious testimonies of Trane’s daughter, the combative and controversial Stanley Crouch, Jimmy Heath, and that true Coltrane believer, Carlos Santana (listen to “Love Devotion Surrender” to believe it), alternate with precious amateur footage that humanizes Trane by showing him in his familiar surroundings. And even rarer, clips from the filming of the only public performance of “A Love Supreme,” I believe in Antibes 1965… France, as usual the second home of jazz.
