Charles Mingus Music

Even if you disagree with Mingus' assessment of this as his greatest recording, the musical evidence is sufficiently compelling to make you respect the composer's judgment. Mingus was a larger-than-life figure and dreamer of Faustian proportions, though his projects frequently fell short of realizing their maker's designs. In some respects, he's remarkably similar to the filmmaking genius, Orson Welles (and not only in terms of artistic vision). After the controversy and commercial failure of "Citizen Kane," Welles was largely sentenced to pursuing his Promethean ambitions with self-financed films on shoe-string budgets that simply could not conceal their frequently ragged, unpolished production values.

Recent recordings like Mingus' UCLA and Cornell concerts often show much of the same disparity between the artist's lofty conceptions and inadequate resources for implementation of them (in terms of money, time, personnel, promotional agents, circulation channels). But with the help of arranger Sy Johnson, Mingus came closer than ever to realizing the "grand design" in "Let My Children Hear Music," which amounts to a literal and fitting "valedictory" by the composer-bassist-leader. Call the music portentous and pretentious: it IS. Romantics, dreamers, visionaries, idealists always ARE. And lest there be any doubt, the liner notes quoting Mingus on the project are practically a jeremiad on the state of art and culture in the late 20th century.

Like Welles, William Blake, Shelley, Pound and perhaps all under-appreciated or ignored geniuses, Mingus was a true "maverick" (quite unlike the Presidential candidate who claims the title because he disagreed with his commander-in-chief 10% of the time), distancing himself from liberal revolutionaries as much as conservative stand-patters. As his program notes make clear, Mingus wanted to liberate listeners by opening their ears not just to the music of the present but to the brilliant compositional structures of the past. He was at once "progressive" and "conservative," intensely committed to conserving the best music by insisting that it be heard amidst the frequent noise of the present.

"Let My Children Hear Music" is Mingus writ large (if that's possible), music that's more absorbing compositionally than some of the earlier recordings of these same works. If there's a deficiency to the music, it's ironically the comparative absence of the normally irrepressible Mingus himself. The program opens with a thrilling "Shoes of the Fisherman's Wife" that practically recalls Strauss's "Death and Transfiguration." Yet the impact of the piece is partially dependent on the listener's familiarity with previous, less polished and fully "orchestrated" versions of the composition. Soon, the textures of the program tend to overwhelm individual soloists and even Mingus. In terms of a final result doing justice by each of the personalities in the ensemble while representing in full the character of the leader, Mingus inarguably falls short of his hero, Ellington.

All the same, the textures and scale are in themselves a wonder, and the saxophones of the ageless James Moody and the noble (if wronged) soldier Bobby Jones are added "clinchers" to this fascinating, if not essential, recording. Looking at Amazon's current price for this item and factoring in a tax and postage-free transaction, I'd be surprised if you found many better values on Amazon. But don't take it for granted. Some of Ellington's best music is currently unavailable. In the "culture" of the present, as Mingus himself sensed, there are major obstacles to being heard. Why not pick up a boxful of these and hand them out to young people in exchange for a promise to give up some of the time devoted each day to the Xbox, iPhone, and Face Book. (I know--what to do about the problem of the suddenly obsolescent CD player?) As loud, omnipresent, and inescapable as the "medium" has become, Mingus was enough of a maverick to believe there's still a message that needs to be heard. Some of us are old-fashioned enough to agree with him.

Zappa and the Duke would be proud. Brilliant, angular, evocative. Git it in Your Soul. It won't disappoint.

Mingus has claimed this to be his best work. Never let an artist review his own material - it's by far his worst. "The Shoes of the Fisherman's Wife are Some Jive-A** Slippers" is a multipart masterpiece with brilliant solos and creepy harmonies, but that's all this record has going for it, and even then "Shoes" can be found on the album of the same name, which rounds up the highlights of Dynasty as well. The rest of this disc is a failure: it's more classical than jazz, and Mingus was at his best in the blues/gospel idiom. Charles himself barely plays any bass on this record, instead turning it over to his enormous band, with six different bassists (including Ron Carter). The problem is that none of it works: "Adagio Marron Toppo" is one of the most ridiculous attempt at classical I've ever heard; the two extended pieces ("Hobo Ho"; "The I of Hurricane Sue") both have interesting titles but no other redeeming factors; and the poetry recitation "The Chill of Death" is a miserable flop. Plus he has this annoying habit of opening each song with random chatter, or something along those lines.

There's a rumor going around that, starting very soon, Columbia/Sony and music re-release giant Legacy will discontinue their prodigious line of CD reissues and shutter themselves up completely to fully focus all of their considerable energies on the development and wi-fi distribution of the brand new Miles Davis Complete Cochlear Implant Chip. ;)

Before something crazy like that actually *does* happen, wouldn't it be great if Columbia/Legacy gave the royal treatment to just a few more deserving titles like this classic by Charles Mingus from 1971. Belden could straighten out the confusing personnel list once and for all, and we would no longer have to decode the very questionable messes now posted elsewhere; Tingen could identify every single one of Teo Macero's original edit points and describe with great detail the attributes of each clip left on the floor; and, perhaps most importantly, Charles Mingus' very own monumental essay "What Is A Jazz Composer?" could be reprinted in its ENTIRETY, unlike the present title which offers only brief excerpts. Right now, the only other way to read the entire essay is to obtain the indispensable book "Charles Mingus: More Than A Fake Book" (Jazz Workshop/Hal Leonard Pubs.), which comes *highly* recommended on its own terms. Or you might find the entire text posted on a site somewhere, which is *exactly* the sort of thing that rightfully pisses off people like Mingus' widow and prime-mover Sue Mingus.

But back to the wonderful things that Columbia/Legacy does and could do: They could investigate the existence of additional material from these same sessions, even rumors of additional material, like the strange appearance on the Jazz Discography Project's Mingus page of an extra song from the album called "Quand L'Amour Vient" ("When Love Comes", maybe?). What's up with that, JDP? And of course, we could have a very learned discussion about the true extent to which Mingus himself was or was not actually involved in the preparations and rehearsals and recordings for these sessions. Without trying to take anything away from the man's formidable musical prowess (and it must be stated that Mingus' importance as an American *composer*, and not just of jazz music but of *any* American music, is right there on a par with not only Duke Ellington but also with Aaron Copland and Charles Ives), the masterwork that is "Let My Children Hear Music" seems largely crafted by those who were behind the batons - the arrangers, the orchestrators, and the conductors, few of whom were Mingus himself. And so if any of those people whose contributions were so major are still around today, someone from C/L could talk with them about these sessions, and, and..! Oh heck, why don't I stop beating around the bush - they could hire *ME* to do it!!! "No more coffee for you, mister."

(switch to more appropriate reverential tone)

"Let My Children Hear Music" is an amazing album on so many levels - as a comeback for the man after nearly four years off the scene, as an important example of his compositional genius, as an incredible display of top-notch orchestral bravura, if not just for the sheer joy of the glorious passages of simultaneous free improv by the magnificent players assembled (whoever they may ultimately turn out to be) - that the whole thing deserves a special place on the shelves of all of us whose love for American Music is a primary driving force. Whether you have the original vinyl LP (I do, minus the complete essay insert sheet), or want to get this early 90's CD edition with just acceptable sound, or you want to wait for the deluxe-treatment-special-leather-bound-chip-based-millenium-edition that could be coming to a delivery system near you... just find a way to own this music - it will enrich your life many times over. I promise.

In 1971, if you'd asked me, "Who is the greatest jazz musician?" I would have said, "John McLaughlin hands down"! At the time I was listening to the unrelenting sounds of Mahavishnu Orchestra ("Inner Mounting Flame", "Birds of Fire", etc.) Well, now I can say, like many of my peers, that I wasted a whole lot of time on MO. I could have been listening to "real music"; Mingus' "Let my Children Hear Music"(1971). Wow! This is in a league of its own, as the previous reviewers, who are much more knowledgeable than I, can attest. Mingus was at the forefront of "modern music". In my opinion, only the GREAT Duke Ellington, Mingus' mentor, compares. Ellington's influence is felt on many of the "Swing" passages. Although the music on "Let My Children Hear Music" is as intense and unrelenting as Mahavishu's "Inner Mounting Flame", the execution and instrumental palette are worlds apart. This is a masterpiece by a very bi-polar obsessive-compulsive perfectionist. True to his nature, Mingus DEMANDS that we listen to his inner "voice".
Each instrument INSISTS we hear its timbre. The deep, rich tones reflect the majestic status Mingus sought for himself. "Let My Children Hear Music" has many twists and turns, as is true with all of Mingus' work. At times this music borders on chaos, i.e.) a lot of animal sounds running riot. Children will love this! At other times, Mingus shows his grandiose classical side. He trained as a classical performer before changing course. This music is not for the faint of heart and I suggest one listen to each piece individually before listening to the CD as a whole. Each cut is long and complex. As with all of Mingus' work, this music REQUIRES active, not passive, listening. CAUTION: I imagine this "experience" is like spending one hour in a bi-polar ward at your regional asylum. For much more accessible Mingus music, check out "Changes 1 & 2" from 1974.

Even if you disagree with Mingus' assessment of this as his greatest recording, the musical evidence is sufficiently compelling to make you respect the composer's judgment. Mingus was a larger-than-life figure and dreamer of Faustian proportions, though his projects frequently fell short of realizing their maker's designs. In some respects, he's remarkably similar to the filmmaking genius, Orson Welles (and not only in terms of artistic vision). After the controversy and commercial failure of "Citizen Kane," Welles was largely sentenced to pursuing his Promethean ambitions with self-financed films on shoe-string budgets that simply could not conceal their frequently ragged, unpolished production values.

Recent recordings like Mingus' UCLA and Cornell concerts often show much of the same disparity between the artist's lofty conceptions and inadequate resources for implementation of them (in terms of money, time, personnel, promotional agents, circulation channels). But with the help of arranger Sy Johnson, Mingus came closer than ever to realizing the "grand design" in "Let My Children Hear Music," which amounts to a literal and fitting "valedictory" by the composer-bassist-leader. Call the music portentous and pretentious: it IS. Romantics, dreamers, visionaries, idealists always ARE. And lest there be any doubt, the liner notes quoting Mingus on the project are practically a jeremiad on the state of art and culture in the late 20th century.

Like Welles, William Blake, Shelley, Pound and perhaps all under-appreciated or ignored geniuses, Mingus was a true "maverick" (quite unlike the Presidential candidate who claims the title because he disagreed with his commander-in-chief 10% of the time), distancing himself from liberal revolutionaries as much as conservative stand-patters. As his program notes make clear, Mingus wanted to liberate listeners by opening their ears not just to the music of the present but to the brilliant compositional structures of the past. He was at once "progressive" and "conservative," intensely committed to conserving the best music by insisting that it be heard amidst the frequent noise of the present.

"Let My Children Hear Music" is Mingus writ large (if that's possible), music that's more absorbing compositionally than some of the earlier recordings of these same works. If there's a deficiency to the music, it's ironically the comparative absence of the normally irrepressible Mingus himself. The program opens with a thrilling "Shoes of the Fisherman's Wife" that practically recalls Strauss's "Death and Transfiguration." Yet the impact of the piece is partially dependent on the listener's familiarity with previous, less polished and fully "orchestrated" versions of the composition. Soon, the textures of the program tend to overwhelm individual soloists and even Mingus. In terms of a final result doing justice by each of the personalities in the ensemble while representing in full the character of the leader, Mingus inarguably falls short of his hero, Ellington.

All the same, the textures and scale are in themselves a wonder, and the saxophones of the ageless James Moody and the noble (if wronged) soldier Bobby Jones are added "clinchers" to this fascinating, if not essential, recording. Looking at Amazon's current price for this item and factoring in a tax and postage-free transaction, I'd be surprised if you found many better values on Amazon. But don't take it for granted. Some of Ellington's best music is currently unavailable. In the "culture" of the present, as Mingus himself sensed, there are major obstacles to being heard. Why not pick up a boxful of these and hand them out to young people in exchange for a promise to give up some of the time devoted each day to the Xbox, iPhone, and Face Book. (I know--what to do about the problem of the suddenly obsolescent CD player?) As loud, omnipresent, and inescapable as the "medium" has become, Mingus was enough of a maverick to believe there's still a message that needs to be heard. Some of us are old-fashioned enough to agree with him.

Zappa and the Duke would be proud. Brilliant, angular, evocative. Git it in Your Soul. It won't disappoint.

Mingus has claimed this to be his best work. Never let an artist review his own material - it's by far his worst. "The Shoes of the Fisherman's Wife are Some Jive-A** Slippers" is a multipart masterpiece with brilliant solos and creepy harmonies, but that's all this record has going for it, and even then "Shoes" can be found on the album of the same name, which rounds up the highlights of Dynasty as well. The rest of this disc is a failure: it's more classical than jazz, and Mingus was at his best in the blues/gospel idiom. Charles himself barely plays any bass on this record, instead turning it over to his enormous band, with six different bassists (including Ron Carter). The problem is that none of it works: "Adagio Marron Toppo" is one of the most ridiculous attempt at classical I've ever heard; the two extended pieces ("Hobo Ho"; "The I of Hurricane Sue") both have interesting titles but no other redeeming factors; and the poetry recitation "The Chill of Death" is a miserable flop. Plus he has this annoying habit of opening each song with random chatter, or something along those lines.

There's a rumor going around that, starting very soon, Columbia/Sony and music re-release giant Legacy will discontinue their prodigious line of CD reissues and shutter themselves up completely to fully focus all of their considerable energies on the development and wi-fi distribution of the brand new Miles Davis Complete Cochlear Implant Chip. ;)

Before something crazy like that actually *does* happen, wouldn't it be great if Columbia/Legacy gave the royal treatment to just a few more deserving titles like this classic by Charles Mingus from 1971. Belden could straighten out the confusing personnel list once and for all, and we would no longer have to decode the very questionable messes now posted elsewhere; Tingen could identify every single one of Teo Macero's original edit points and describe with great detail the attributes of each clip left on the floor; and, perhaps most importantly, Charles Mingus' very own monumental essay "What Is A Jazz Composer?" could be reprinted in its ENTIRETY, unlike the present title which offers only brief excerpts. Right now, the only other way to read the entire essay is to obtain the indispensable book "Charles Mingus: More Than A Fake Book" (Jazz Workshop/Hal Leonard Pubs.), which comes *highly* recommended on its own terms. Or you might find the entire text posted on a site somewhere, which is *exactly* the sort of thing that rightfully pisses off people like Mingus' widow and prime-mover Sue Mingus.

But back to the wonderful things that Columbia/Legacy does and could do: They could investigate the existence of additional material from these same sessions, even rumors of additional material, like the strange appearance on the Jazz Discography Project's Mingus page of an extra song from the album called "Quand L'Amour Vient" ("When Love Comes", maybe?). What's up with that, JDP? And of course, we could have a very learned discussion about the true extent to which Mingus himself was or was not actually involved in the preparations and rehearsals and recordings for these sessions. Without trying to take anything away from the man's formidable musical prowess (and it must be stated that Mingus' importance as an American *composer*, and not just of jazz music but of *any* American music, is right there on a par with not only Duke Ellington but also with Aaron Copland and Charles Ives), the masterwork that is "Let My Children Hear Music" seems largely crafted by those who were behind the batons - the arrangers, the orchestrators, and the conductors, few of whom were Mingus himself. And so if any of those people whose contributions were so major are still around today, someone from C/L could talk with them about these sessions, and, and..! Oh heck, why don't I stop beating around the bush - they could hire *ME* to do it!!! "No more coffee for you, mister."

(switch to more appropriate reverential tone)

"Let My Children Hear Music" is an amazing album on so many levels - as a comeback for the man after nearly four years off the scene, as an important example of his compositional genius, as an incredible display of top-notch orchestral bravura, if not just for the sheer joy of the glorious passages of simultaneous free improv by the magnificent players assembled (whoever they may ultimately turn out to be) - that the whole thing deserves a special place on the shelves of all of us whose love for American Music is a primary driving force. Whether you have the original vinyl LP (I do, minus the complete essay insert sheet), or want to get this early 90's CD edition with just acceptable sound, or you want to wait for the deluxe-treatment-special-leather-bound-chip-based-millenium-edition that could be coming to a delivery system near you... just find a way to own this music - it will enrich your life many times over. I promise.

In 1971, if you'd asked me, "Who is the greatest jazz musician?" I would have said, "John McLaughlin hands down"! At the time I was listening to the unrelenting sounds of Mahavishnu Orchestra ("Inner Mounting Flame", "Birds of Fire", etc.) Well, now I can say, like many of my peers, that I wasted a whole lot of time on MO. I could have been listening to "real music"; Mingus' "Let my Children Hear Music"(1971). Wow! This is in a league of its own, as the previous reviewers, who are much more knowledgeable than I, can attest. Mingus was at the forefront of "modern music". In my opinion, only the GREAT Duke Ellington, Mingus' mentor, compares. Ellington's influence is felt on many of the "Swing" passages. Although the music on "Let My Children Hear Music" is as intense and unrelenting as Mahavishu's "Inner Mounting Flame", the execution and instrumental palette are worlds apart. This is a masterpiece by a very bi-polar obsessive-compulsive perfectionist. True to his nature, Mingus DEMANDS that we listen to his inner "voice".
Each instrument INSISTS we hear its timbre. The deep, rich tones reflect the majestic status Mingus sought for himself. "Let My Children Hear Music" has many twists and turns, as is true with all of Mingus' work. At times this music borders on chaos, i.e.) a lot of animal sounds running riot. Children will love this! At other times, Mingus shows his grandiose classical side. He trained as a classical performer before changing course. This music is not for the faint of heart and I suggest one listen to each piece individually before listening to the CD as a whole. Each cut is long and complex. As with all of Mingus' work, this music REQUIRES active, not passive, listening. CAUTION: I imagine this "experience" is like spending one hour in a bi-polar ward at your regional asylum. For much more accessible Mingus music, check out "Changes 1 & 2" from 1974.

The other reviewers are absolutely correct in saying that this album is not a showcase for Mingus' compositions or arrangements. That should be obvious from the song selection, two of the most basic Ellington standards. It's a JATP-style blowing session, pure and simple, but what a blowing session! The soloing is uniformly excellent throughout, in keeping with Mingus' ability to draw the best out of musicians just by being there. However, the standout here, and clearly the reason for this album's release, is Rahsaan Roland Kirk, who takes two extended solos that absolutely stand the room on its collective ear. His consistent creativity, his amazing circle-breathing prowess, and his good-natured rivalry with fellow tenor man George Adams all conspire to bring the crowd to its feet. And check out his takeoff on Adams' trademark screeching style on C-Jam Blues! As Mingus said, "He's cuttin' him at his own s--t!"

If you want to hear Mingus rave on one of his sick free jazz solos, this ain't the place to find it.....Migus says it best himself: "I used to play avant garde bass when nobody else did; now I play 4/4 because none of the other bass players do." - (1975) This record is The Master watching all of his children at play, and having a blast doing it. Five Stars.

I guess one of the reasons I like this so much is it was one of my first Mingus albums bought back in the 70's. Excellent band & while other Mingus albums may showcase his creativity more, this is an excellent example of something he also did with skill, assembling a top notch big band that just cooks.
Nothing like the dynamic of a live session where everybody's tuned in & getting inspiration from each previous solo.

Mingus was never easily categorized - a modernist with a keen sense of jazz history, ironical towards the "copy-cats" of other great modernists, politically bitter in his public statements, etc.
At this CD, Mingus presided over two remarkable jam-sessions on tunes from Duke Ellington's magnificent repertoire.

Naturally, Ellington was just one of the influences on Mingus, who developed highly indivudual and instantly recognizable style and poetics, but this CD gives a great example of the way Mingus approached the music of his elder colegues. The performances are at the same time modern and swinging in the traditional sense, with Rahsaan Roland Kirk, George Adams, Hamiet Bluiett and others (who blew me out my mind with joy by their strong playing) constantly led by the leaders strong rhythmical pulse. A masterpiece.
Full of brilliant improvisations and "cutting contests", these two jams nevertheless have the feal of a "composition" (or "arrangement")in the sense of Ellington's or Mingus's best orchestral work.

Much of the appreciation of Mingus is due to his compositions. And, to be fair, they are among the best in the jazz canon. So, one might shy away from this album because it contains no original Mingus work. Don't let that fool you. Mingus also had the reputation of bringing out the best in those he played with, including Duke Ellington, or, in this case, five of the finest and most underrated saxophonists of the 20th Century: Roland Kirk, John Handy, Charles McPherson, Hamiet Bluiett, and George Adams. As an experiment, ask your favorite saxophonist which soloist he likes best - don't worry, he'll be familiar with the album. I must admit, I like Bluiett.