By the time of his Paris concert, Cecil Taylor's quartet had reached a particularly high level of musical communication. Not only did altoist Jimmy Lyons (whose sound but not choice of notes was sometimes close to Charlie Parker's) find a place for himself in the dense ensembles, but one can hear him and the pianist/leader echoing each other's phrases in spots.
This double-LP is the only recording that exists of Cecil Taylor and his group (other than two songs on the bootleg Ingo label) during 1962-1965. Taylor's then-new altoist Jimmy Lyons (who occasionally hints at Charlie Parker) and the first truly "free" drummer Sunny Murray join the avant-garde pianist in some stunning trio performances recorded live at the Cafe Montmartre in Copenhagen. With the exception of an interesting version of "What's New" (which finds Lyons showing off his roots), the music is comprised entirely of Taylor originals and is atonal and full of power.
One of a rare few albums done by pianist Cecil Taylor for the Blue Note label in the 60s – some of the most outside work recorded for the imprint at the time! The word "structures" here is perhaps a bit misplaced – as the work has a strong sense of freedom with the soloists – who operate based on a system of energy and impulses described by Taylor in the notes, at a level that's maybe one of his most inventive, ambitious expressions of the decade!
Recorded live in Berlin at the Total Music Meeting in early November 1996, and released by FMP in 2005, the nearly 77-minute performance ritual Almeda easily stands among Cecil Taylor's finest large ensemble realizations, including Unit Structures (1966), Winged Serpent/Sliding Quadrants (1986), and The Owner of the River Bank, a collaboration with the Italian Instabile Orchestra which occurred in 2004. Almeda's forces are expansive and colorfully unfurled. Here the pianist, poet, and composer was anchored by his regular working unit of bassist Dominic Duval and drummer Jackson Krall, with guest cellist Tristan Honsinger.
This is a classic Cecil Taylor solo concert, performed at the 1974 Montreux Jazz Festival. Taylor plays his five-movement work "Silent Tongues," along with a couple of brief encores. To simplify in explaining what he was doing at this point of time, it can be said that Taylor essentially plays the piano like a drum set, creating percussive and thunderous sounds that are otherworldly and full of an impressive amount of energy and atonal ideas. Many listeners will find these performances to be quite difficult but it is worth the struggle to open up one's perceptions as to what music can be.
This four-part suite for piano and violin was commissioned by the Library of Congress, and recorded in performance there in February of 1999. It was composed by Taylor, but the liner notes indicate that what Taylor provided in terms of a score was idiosyncratic – columns of individual notes along with "symbols and scribbles to suggest attacks, transitions, etc." Violinist Mat Maneri took a day to figure out his part based on Taylor's unorthodox score, and the resulting performance is what you might expect: basically a set of four improvisations based on a sketch of musical ideas.
Dark to Themselves is a continuous 61-plus-minute performance by pianist Cecil Taylor and his 1976 quintet (which also includes such fiery players as trumpeter Raphe Malik, his longtime altoist Jimmy Lyons, tenor saxophonist David S. Ware, and drummer Marc Edwards). There is a quick theme along with brief transitions that form the composition "Streams and Chorus of Seed," but the bulk of the passionate performance is taken up by spontaneous and intense solos. Listeners with very open ears, and longtime fans of Taylor's, can consider this explosive performance essential.
Originally recorded in the early 1960s and unreleased for a decade, these Cecil Taylor small group arrangements find the pianist at an intriguing stage of his musical development, encompassing the traditional post-bop jazz of "Jumpin' Punkins" (the difference between the two versions included here is instructive), and the more radical, yet still structured approach of the title track. Accompanied by an all-star lineup, including the drummer Billy Higgins, the trombonists Roswell Rudd and Clark Terry, and the soprano saxophonist Steve Lacy, Taylor's playing is like aural modern ballet–fractured, flowing, and lyrical.
Recorded in 1990 in Berlin upon his return to the city where he spent a month performing and recording two years before, this document of Taylor playing piano and percussion and reciting his poems is a mixed bag. Partially it's because Taylor's poetry doesn't translate well on record. His use of elliptical language and speech devices, which has read wonderfully on the page and comes off as dramatically beautiful live, is a cipher on a compact disc. Thankfully, that of the two cuts here, the poetry, which is on the longest part of the work, is brief.