I really want to write a book about fusion. Not just as a specific musical genre, but as an ethos. Because the music of the six-year span from 1969 to 1975, which I often feel was the best era for music, period, was almost entirely defined by the values of fusion: technological advances and advances in instrumental technique; the blurring of lines between jazz, rock, funk, soul, Latin music, African music, and more; and a kind of spiritual openness that manifested in lyrical and musical concepts. From Miles Davis to all his ex-bandmates' bands (Mwandishi, the Headhunters, Return To Forever, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Weather Report) to Alice Coltrane to Pharoah Sanders to Santana to Earth, Wind & Fire to Eddie Palmieri, Willie Colón and the Fania All-Stars, and many more, it was all one thing.
But it was definitely the music of a specific era. It couldn't have been made at any time other than the late '60s and early '70s. And this year, that era will have been over for half a century. I believe 1976 was fusion's last year, and that's what I want to talk about here: the albums that came at the end, after the heights had been scaled and before the era of "smooth jazz" and disco-jazz fully began. So let's talk end-stage fusion!
First, a little history. Fusion was originally called "jazz-rock," and some folks, like drummer Lenny White, still prefer that term, because it denoted a specific thing: jazz improvisation wedded to a rock beat or rock forms, with electric instruments and big amps. This encompassed everything from Miles Davis' Bitches Brew to the Tony Williams Lifetime (with Jack Bruce of Cream on bass) and beyond.
In about 1971, though, "fusion" became the term of choice for what was in many ways instrumental prog-rock. The Mahavishnu Orchestra, led by guitarist John McLaughlin, and Return To Forever, led by keyboardist Chick Corea, were acts that peaked in the High Fusion era of 1971-73. Weather Report, formed by two other former Miles Davis collaborators, keyboardist Joe Zawinul and saxophonist Wayne Shorter, were less rock-oriented, and more about combining wild, swirling keyboards with rhythms from around the world. And Herbie Hancock's Mwandishi was an avant-garde sextet (later septet) that combined spiritual jazz horn interplay with spaced-out synths and trance rhythms.
Note that the first two of these acts were primarily marketed to white rock fans. (Weather Report and Mwandishi were for jazz nerds, which was why Hancock broke up the latter group in 1973 and formed the much funkier and more popular Headhunters). Black-led fusion acts whose music was often more funk-oriented were marketed very differently, which is why people who love Mahavishnu or RTF or Weather Report may not be at all familiar with contemporaneous albums by trumpeters Freddie Hubbard and Donald Byrd, saxophonist Grover Washington Jr., and others. Those musicians were not proto-smooth jazz; they were absolutely fusion players, but they got shunted off into the R&B market. Latin players got it even worse, as even their most adventurous and forward-looking records — like Eddie Palmieri's Vamonos Pa'l Monte and Sun Of Latin Music, the Fania All-Stars' Latin-Soul-Rock, and Willie Colón and Ruben Blades' Siembra – were just filed under "salsa."
By 1976, fusion had basically run out of road. Miles Davis had already retreated entirely; he wouldn't return until 1981. But who was still making fusion albums? I gathered 21 records that I would put either fully in that category or nudging softly at its boundaries. They are:
Roy Ayers' Everybody Loves The Sunshine; George Benson's Breezin'; Donald Byrd's Caricatures; Stanley Clarke's School Days; Billy Cobham's Life & Times; Al Di Meola's Land Of The Midnight Sun; George Duke's Liberated Fantasies; Herbie Hancock's Secrets; Eddie Henderson's Heritage; Freddie Hubbard's Windjammer; Alphonso Johnson's Yesterday's Dreams; Ramsey Lewis' Salongo; Pat Metheny's Bright Size Life; Alphonse Mouzon's The Man Incognito; Jaco Pastorius' Jaco Pastorius; Jean-Luc Ponty's Aurora and Imaginary Voyage (yes, two studio albums in one year); Flora Purim's Open Your Eyes You Can Fly; Return To Forever's Romantic Warrior; Weather Report's Black Market; and Tony Williams' Million Dollar Legs.
Some of these were farewell albums. Return To Forever broke up after Romantic Warrior, and Million Dollar Legs was the last album by any version of Tony Williams' Lifetime. Others represented a new beginning: Bright Size Life was Pat Metheny's debut as a leader, as Land Of The Midnight Sun was Al Di Meola's, and Open Your Eyes You Can Fly was Flora Purim's first album after an 18-month prison stint for cocaine possession.
There was a lot of personnel overlap between these records. Stanley Clarke and Al Di Meola were both members of Return To Forever, and Pastorius was a member of Weather Report while making his solo debut and playing on Bright Size Life. George Duke and Alphonso Johnson both play on Open Your Eyes You Can Fly; Duke and Cobham play on Clarke's album; Chester Thompson, then drumming for Weather Report, played on Johnson's album (and it's worth noting that both he and Duke had previously been in Frank Zappa's band); Corea, Clarke, Pastorius, and Mouzon are all on Di Meola's record; and on and on.
As I mentioned above, there was always a boundary between "white fusion" (compositionally complex, rock-oriented) and "Black fusion" (groove-oriented, more lushly arranged), and by 1976 the latter had mostly taken over. All three trumpeters — Donald Byrd, Eddie Henderson (formerly of Mwandishi), and Freddie Hubbard — made albums that were heavily influenced by disco and/or "yacht soul," if that's a thing. Ramsey Lewis' Salongo and George Benson's Breezin' featured string sections on several tracks. Herbie Hancock's Secrets was a relaxed, Caribbean-influenced collection of mellow funk tracks perfect for drinking tropical drinks poolside. Roy Ayers' Everybody Loves The Sunshine is a summertime R&B album; I'm not even sure it belongs in this category, but a lot of jazz folks like to claim him.
Fusion for proggy nerds was thin on the ground by this point; Al Di Meola was a shreddin' maniac, as was Stanley Clarke, and George Duke, as evidenced by his tenure with Zappa, was always a weirdo. Return To Forever's final album took prog-fusion into almost baroque zones of synth tone worship, and Jean-Luc Ponty's electric violin jams had groove, but the lengthy solos were also more likely to appeal to fans of fusion's proggy side (he was another former Zappa associate).
Weather Report were, as always, their own thing. They changed lineups on almost every album, with Shorter and Zawinul the only constants throughout their 15-year career, and Black Market was the exact midpoint — their sixth album (of 14), and the first with bassist Jaco Pastorius, who would fundamentally alter their sound and help them achieve their greatest commercial success on the next release, 1977's Heavy Weather.
Looking back now, it's easy to think about the bands still playing fusion in 1976 and picture that meme of the dinosaurs staring up at a meteor streaking across the sky. But what was the meteor? Smooth jazz? ECM-style chamber jazz? Wynton Marsalis and the Young Lions? None of those really have the appropriate sweeping-away-the-past feel, do they? Instead, I'm left with a few lines from Hunter S. Thompson's Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas:
History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of "history" it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time — and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened... There was madness in any direction, at any hour... You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning... We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave... So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Fusion didn't survive the '70s, and these albums were pretty much its last stand, even if their makers didn't realize it at the time. But they don't feel like failures to meet the moment, or enervated gestures by has-beens. They're wild, high-energy, crowd-pleasing music with all the creative energy of the best jazz, and the openness to brand-new sounds of the best rock, funk and pop. Open up the streaming service of your choice and listen. You'll be amazed what you hear.
TAKE 10
Aaron Shaw - "Heart Of A Phoenix"
Saxophonist Aaron Shaw is part of the company of neo-spiritual jazz players clustered around percussionist Carlos Niño; he can be heard blowing alongside Kamasi Washington on the recent Saul Williams Meets Carlos Niño & Friends At TreePeople. He went through some major health problems in 2023 that forced him to reevaluate and adjust his playing, leading to this debut album, recorded with Niño and Nate Mercereau. The players on the album include vocalist Dwight Trible, pianist Sam Reid, bassist Lawrence Shaw, cellist Kiernan Weggler, harpist Merci B, and drummer Alex Smith. On "Heart Of A Phoenix," the music begins very quietly and mixed as though you're hearing it coming from the end of a long tunnel. The harp and piano come in slowly behind Shaw's tenor saxophone. Eventually, he overdubs himself on alto flute as well, and we also hear Dwight Trible's wordless, incantatory vocals. This is beautiful, somewhat hazy stuff. (From And So It Is, out now via Leaving.)
Marquis Hill - "Water (Feelings, Emotions)" (Feat. Immanuel Wilkins & Amyna Love)
It's funny how people only seem to apply the label "spiritual jazz" to music that draws from non-Western spirituality, like Alice Coltrane's Hindu devotional music or Pharoah Sanders' importation of African and Indian instruments and sounds into otherwise gospelized out jazz. But what about jazz that's deeply rooted in Christian traditions? Chicago-raised trumpeter Marquis Hill's latest album (Beautifulism) Sweet Surrender uses a painting of a man being baptized in church as its cover art, and while "Sweet Surrender" the song has the feel of an R&B song and lyrics about love, that love could be God's love. The album's collective personnel includes Immanuel Wilkins on alto sax, Mike King and Emmanuel Michael on piano, George Burton and Jeremiah Chiu on synths, Matt Gold on guitar, Junius Paul on bass, and three amazing drummers: Justin Brown, Marcus Gilmore, and Makaya McCraven. All that, plus a slew of vocalists. It's a lot, but in a good way. (From (Beautifulism) Sweet Surrender, out now via Label.)
Ivo Perelman - "Ivo/Ribot – Three"
Indefatigable tenor saxophonist Ivo Perelman goes toe to toe with three very different guitarists on this three-disc set. Skronk-jazz maestro Marc Ribot is up first, followed by brain-bending composer and tech wizard Elliott Sharp, and finally bebop-turned-free virtuoso Joe Morris. Perelman and Morris (who also plays bass) have worked together many, many times over the years, but I believe this set documents his first encounters with the other two men. Perelman is a sensitive listener, which makes him an ideal partner for duo improvisations. He has a unique voice on the tenor saxophone, combining the romanticism of classic jazz with the extreme pitches – particularly in the upper register – of the avant-garde. Going up against Ribot, who has a nasty, biting-on-tinfoil tone, requires him to get rough, and he does so, blowing fierce bursts of notes against the guitarist's bent blues riffs. When they leap into squealing high harmonies, it'll crack your glasses. (From Trifecta, out now via Mahakala.)
Fuller Sound - "Beatrice"
Alto saxophonist Tia Fuller and pianist Shamie Fuller-Royston are sisters. When they were growing up, their parents had a band called Fuller Sound. Their mother, Ethiopia Fuller, died in 2022, and the sisters have revived the band name to honor their parents with this duo release. It's a varied album that includes the recorded voices of Mr. and Mrs. Fuller on the opening "Windsoar," a Bach interpolation, and a few songs on which Tia Fuller sings. Her horn playing is impressive throughout; she's a serious jazz musician with plenty of technical aptitude, but she's also got a feel for big showbiz hooks and a powerful sense of groove (she was part of Beyoncé's touring band for several years). This tune, "Beatrice," emphasizes the family theme of the album; it was written by saxophonist Sam Rivers for his wife, and the two sisters deliver a swinging, affectionate rendition. (From Dynasty, out now via Cellar Music.)
Marta Sanchez - "Frost Bloom"
Playing "prepared piano" can involve any number of things; typically, the performer will place objects on the strings or somewhere else inside the body of the instrument so they alter the timbre or create additional vibrations and noises. Marta Sanchez, who has released three albums leading a quintet, and is currently a member of saxophonist David Murray's quartet, makes her solo debut with an album of pieces for prepared piano. Some tracks hardly sound altered or distorted at all, and are quite beautiful, while others are extremely weird. "Frost Bloom," which opens the album, is in the latter category. At first, the piano sounds just slightly out of tune, or like it's been warped via post-production. But then she starts hitting notes that scrape and grind, while adding extra flourishes that buzz and rattle. Before long, it starts to sound like two people are playing, or like she's overdubbed herself. (From For The Space You Left, out now via Out Of Your Head.)
Dave Douglas - "Energy Fields"
Guitarist Rafiq Bhatia and drummer Ian Chang are members of the trio Son Lux. They're also part of trumpeter Dave Douglas' ongoing Gifts project. Thus far, they've released a self-titled debut album with tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis (recent recipient of a Guggenheim fellowship – congratulations, JBL!), a live trio disc (no JBL), and now this follow-up, on which they're joined by cellist Tomeka Reid. The first album featured six Douglas originals and four pieces by Billy Strayhorn; this one has six more Douglas compositions and three by Strayhorn's longtime boss, Duke Ellington. They've also added a member: cellist Tomeka Reid, whose playing combines brilliantly with Bhatia's guitar, which is often fed through effects until it sounds like two or three instruments at once. Douglas' willingness to create fascinating new contexts for himself, and inspire his compatriots to elevate their game accordingly, is inspiring and a hell of a lot of fun. (From Transcend, out now via Greenleaf.)
Ben Wendel - "Clouds"
Tenor saxophonist Ben Wendel has made a really fascinating record. BaRcoDe features four mallet players: Patricia Brennan on vibraphone and electronic effects; Simon Moullier on vibraphone, chromatic balafon, and electronic effects; Joel Ross on vibraphone and marimba; and Juan Diego Villalobos on vibraphone, mallet station, percussion, and electronic effects. The sound of the group is totally mesmerizing. You might expect it to sound like minimalist classical music – something by Steve Reich – with saxophone up front, but it's not like that at all. (Well, the opening track, "Clouds," is a little bit like that.) This is jazz in the vein of the Modern Jazz Quartet, genteel and romantic, but with a strong sense of rhythm at all times. The electronics employed by some of the players allow them to create almost synth-bass-like effects, and Wendel's horn is also fed through just a touch of reverb, like he's floating on a cloud. (From BaRcoDe, out now via Edition.)
Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra With Wynton Marsalis - "Mitakuye Oyasin (All Are Related)"
The Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra, led by trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, is releasing multiple albums this year. We The People was recorded in 2018 and is part of a collaboration with the Crystal Bridges Museum Of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas. Members of the orchestra wrote new compositions inspired by paintings in the museum's collection. Many of the pieces have the kind of joyful, big-room swing that the ensemble specializes in, but "Mitakuye Oyasin (All Are Related)" is different. It's by trumpeter Kenny Rampton, and was inspired by Thomas Cole's Landscape With Indian, which you can see here. It's a rumbling, moody piece that reminds me of John Coltrane's "Africa," from 1961's Africa/Brass. Rampton lets the whole orchestra murmur and then erupt, over and over again, with steadily building percussion that sounds more like orchestral tympani than a jazz kit, and the horns wailing and keening like mourners. (From We The People, out now via Blue Engine.)
Hedvig Mollestad Weejuns - "Bitches Blues"
Guitarist Hedvig Mollestad is best known for leading her eponymous trio through eight studio albums and a monster double live LP, but she's also made a number of albums with one-off ensembles — Ekhidna, Tempest Revisited, and Maternity Beat — and more recently has launched Weejuns, a psychedelic project with keyboardist Ståle Storløkken and drummer Ole Mofjell. Their self-titled debut was an 80-minute live set, where this is a concise 38-minute studio album that covers a variety of moods across its six tracks. There are slow, simmering ballads ("Kompet Blir," "For A Moment I Thought I Could Hear You"), an exploratory noise-rock jam ("Dynamax"), and even a track that sounds like the Doors tuning up ("Recollection Of Sorrow"). The opening title track is the heaviest thing on the record, with Storløkken's blown-out keyboards scorching the air as Mollestad lays down simple, chunky riffs and Mofjell solos through it all. (From Bitches Blues, out now via Rune Grammofon.)
Joe Henderson - "Relaxin' At Camarillo"
People don't talk about Joe Henderson enough. Those who know remember him as a brilliant, hard-charging tenor player with big ears – he played everything from hardcore post-bop to Latin fusion and even led a big band late in life – but he's not remembered these days as much as he should be.
He launched his career with a series of five Blue Note albums – Page One, Our Thing, In 'n' Out, Inner Urge, and Mode For Joe – while also appearing as a sideman on records by McCoy Tyner, Grant Green, Lee Morgan, Horace Silver and more. In 1968, he moved to the Milestone label, where he made something like a dozen albums throughout the 1970s; he also played on Alice Coltrane's Ptah, The El Daoud, Freddie Hubbard's Red Clay and Straight Life, and one of my favorite early '70s obscurities, trumpeter Luis Gasca's For Those Who Chant (which also features several members of Santana, including Carlos himself).
After a few years in the wilderness, he returned to Blue Note in the mid '80s, releasing a pair of live albums, The State Of The Tenor Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, recorded at the Village Vanguard. But then it was small releases on small labels until 1993, when he signed with Verve and made So Near, So Far (Musings For Miles), Double Rainbow – The Music Of Antonio Carlos Jobim, Joe Henderson Big Band, and Porgy & Bess, as well as releasing a couple of archival live tapes from the '60s. I was lucky enough to see Henderson live in 1997, in a trio with bassist George Mraz and drummer Al Foster. He wasn't the fire-breather he'd been in previous decades, but his playing was beautiful and composed in a perfectly elder-statesmanish way. He died in 2001.
This live triple LP/double CD set was recorded in Chicago in February 1978, after Henderson had left Milestone and was bouncing from label to label. The band includes pianist Joanne Brackeen, bassist Steve Rodby, and drummer Danny Spencer; only Brackeen is familiar to me, but they're all on fire throughout. The repertoire is a mix of older Henderson compositions like "Isotope," "Recorda Me" and "Inner Urge" and standards like "Mr. P.C.," "Softly As In A Morning Sunrise," "'Round Midnight," and the version of Charlie Parker's "Relaxin' At Camarillo" streaming above. Five of the nine pieces run past the 20-minute mark, and the whole set runs nearly three hours. This is acoustic jazz in a small club in 1978, so by definition Henderson and his band were playing for hardcore fans, and they knew it. (From Consonance: Live At The Jazz Showcase, out now via Resonance.)
