Last night at "Jazz at the Bistro, St. Louis" I saw The Ahmad Jamal Trio. It was a great experience, especially after my second glass of scotch. He is one the most exciting pianists I've ever heard. His drummer, Idris Muhammad (formerly Leo Morris of Lou Donaldson "Alligator Bogaloo" fame) had sunglasses and a white beret and played totally effortlessly...like he was taking a walk through a park. All his energy from his wrists: ch-ching, ch-ching, pop, band, wop. Was it Art Blakey who said: "You got to hit the drums, 'cause they won't hit back!"?
Ahmad Jamal, in a pale gray double-breasted suit, a glowing knight, uses *all* of the keyboard. He played a new composition, "Ultraviolet," which was also ultra-violent. Crashing on the left end of the keyboard, with swirling arpeggios, Jamal chain- whipped the 12-bar blues, lashing all the way up to the other end. Little melodies popped up in the backwash, Bird quotes, and dense patterns.
The bassist, with sweat pouring down his round face, played furiously, each note giving meaning to the previous note, each string sounded like it had the diameter of a Coke can. The thicker the trading, the thicker the notes.
I saw this trio once before at the Blues Alley in Georgetown. Jamal frequently points with one or two or four fingers at the other two when it's their turn. But their trialogue is almost mental. As soon as the tension between the three becomes too much to bear emotionally, they switch into a rapid new feeling, light peering out of a cloud. After the song, he quickly stops and jumps off the bench and smiles. The set finished, they returned for a thrilling version of "Poinciana."
They make a music that says something about being joyful in
spite of a miserable world. And so it goes.