Museum Of Time
A Note For Jack DeJohnette
Hank Shteamer’s beautiful New York Times obituary for Jack DeJohnette here;
I love Shteamer’s more personal celebration of Jack here;
Nate Chinen composed this fond overview of his time with Jack, with plenty of links to Hank Shteamer’s and Ethan Iverson’s previous writing on DeJohnette;
while Ethan Iverson’s freewheeling and heartwarming run-through of some DeJohnette recorded highlights and memories is the model for my note.
Freddie Hubbard’s Straight Life (CTI, 1971) was in my father’s record collection. The trumpet/drums fanfare that opens “Straight Life” was all I needed at age twelve, but it didn’t prepare me for the ever-evolving percussive tapestry on the rest of the track, while “Mr. Clean” featured what could only be called expert rock drumming. Jack DeJohnette1. Got it.
Around the same time, Bill Milkowski tipped MD readers off to the existence of John Abercrombie’s Lifetime-adjacent Timeless (ECM, 1974) featuring Jan Hammer and Jack. When I stumbled across a copy soon after, it seemed like Side 2’s “Red and Orange” might even surpass Lifetime, at least in terms of speed and intensity. “Red and Orange” remains a personal favorite of the mind-blowing, drum-concerto Jack DeJohnette. It starts at 10 but creeps up to 11, yet everything Jack plays is completely personal— how could you imitate this guy? I could hear a ride cymbal, and the thing just drove and swung like mad, but past that? What’s he even doing? Like all of us, I was hooked.
Freshman year of college in New Jersey, I somehow got ahold of a ticket to a Keith Jarrett Standards Trio concert at NJPAC in Newark. Does anyone forget their first Standards Trio concert, or get over the quietly mutual reverence for each other, the music, and the audience that Keith, Gary Peacock, and Jack conveyed? The subtle joy and hint of a head-turn and smile that Peacock and DeJohnette shared as they hit a groove on “Scrapple from the Apple” is a crystal-clear memory, as is Jack swinging ever-harder and becoming more boisterous and joyful as the night went on. You can hear it all on After The Fall, a recording of the concert that ECM released in 2019.
Something like a week later, Jack DeJohnette, Jerome Harris, and Michael Cain came to William Paterson for a Sunday afternoon concert. I was aware of Jerome Harris from a Bill Frisell album (Rambler, ECM, 1985) but I didn’t know Michael Cain. What was this?
Calling themselves Oneness, and helmed by DeJohnette but with an unmistakably collective vibe, Jack, Michael Cain, and Jerome Harris turned the familiar stage of the Shea Auditorium into an alien planet; I couldn’t tell where a melody, solo, or song began or ended. They did play Wes Montgomery’s “Four On Six”, but it was unlike any “Four On Six” I’d ever heard or could imagine. Though I understood not one moment of that concert, I loved it. It’s forever fixed in my mind as a magic moment.
In 2018, someone said that Jack was playing in Brooklyn at ShapeShifter Lab, with Matt Garrison and Ravi Coltrane. This seemed impossible, but the internet said it was so and that tickets were available. I arrived early enough to see a stylish and dashing Jack emerge from a car and enter the club, and chose my seat carefully, determined to hear Jack purely acoustic, without anything from the PA.
After a piano intro, Jack moved to the drums and played a classic Jack broken straight-eighth groove, mostly on the hi-hat, not loud or intense, but…sitting in a bee line from the magic and power of Jack, I immediately went someplace else. It seemed like I’d never heard anything so real before2. When Ravi (on sopranino), Matt, and Jack got into EW&F’s “Serpentine Fire” after a long improvisation, a few in the audience screamed out in joy. It was an unforgettable gig, undoubtedly recorded by someone. Thanks Jack, Ravi, and Matt!
Underneath all the profundity of Jack DeJohnette— the craft, excellence, commitment, deep roots, and complex reality he embodied— he was so much fun. Listening to Jack pretty much non-stop since I heard the news, the sense of play, joy, optimism, and hope in his drumming seems obvious. Very often, Jack is celebrating when he plays.
You undoubtedly have your own favorite Jack— feel free to share on the comments.
In the meantime I’m working on a survey of Jack’s New Directions and Special Edition, six albums for ECM from 1977 to 1984. This is some incredible music that’s slightly out-of-circulation, at least for my generation. I’m learning a lot and hoping to put a little spotlight on this corner of DeJohnette’s huge contribution.
Ethan Iverson told me that in a recent meeting with Billy Hart, Billy spoke highly of Jack on Straight Life in general and of Jack’s rock ‘n’ roll drumming on “Mr. Clean” specifically. Billy also pointed out that “Mr. Clean” was written by Weldon Irvine, composer of “Young, Gifted, and Black”!
Of course, I had, but that’s the power musicians like Jack: listen close enough, and nothing will ever sound the same. Jack DeJohnette on a hi-hat will make you realize how wonderful everything around you is.
Thanks for this post. Appreciate your ears.
FWIW, for me "Album Album" is the most rewarding of Jack's records as a leader--conceptually, the compositions, the balance within the band, the improvisations, the flow of the program. Some of the best work by these sidemen. Even the cover and photos in the gatefold. The whole thing really hangs together.
I was lucky enough to witness Jack DeJohnette on quite a number of occasions over many years. Starting in 1967 at London’s Royal Festival Hall with Charles Lloyd, Keith Jarrett and Ron McGlure, through to appearances at the Bracknell and Cheltenham festivals here in the UK. Closer encounters occurred when I booked him and John Surman and later his Special Edition for dates in Leeds in 1989 and 1992 respectively.
All were significant experiences but possibly the most memorable was in 1968 when, for a brief period DeJohnette was a member of the Bill Evans Trio. I saw the group at Ronnie Scott’s club in London during the fabled residency that included the visit from Miles Davis which resulted in Dave Holland, bassist in the support group, eventually joining the trumpeter’s quintet. No Davis on the night I was there!
Jack DeJohnette with Bill Evans was astonishing and the recordings that have emerged with that lineup (Eddie Gomez on bass) are, I believe, testimony to that. However, possibly linked to its unexpected and novel nature, what remains just as memorable about that night at Ronnie Scott’s was what happened after Bill Evans’ first set of the evening. Earlier a trio of Pat Smythe piano, John Marshall drums and Holland bass had opened the gig backing singer, Elaine Delmar. For their second set the three instrumentalists appeared minus Delmar but with Jack DeJohnette holding a melodica on which he led the musicians through a series of numbers before returning to the drums for Bill Evans’ final performance of the night. There are few advantages to being elderly; recalling remarkable musical experiences that fewer and fewer people are around to recall is one of them!