Jazz pianist and composer Andrew Hill died on Friday (4/20/07) at the age of 75 after battling lung cancer for several years. He made practically no impact on the mainstream world aside from penning “The Rumproller,” a hit for Lee Morgan, but to his fellow musicians and the most devoted fans of modern jazz, he was one of the greats. This chronological list of what might be his ten best albums (I haven’t heard them all, and in fact many are unavailable at this time) by no means exhausts his worthy work. If you can get only a few, start with #3 and #7, and get #5 for his most freewheeling work.
Black Fire (Blue Note)
Hill’s Blue Note debut as a leader is nowhere near the level of the masterpieces he’d be producing in the next few years, but it’s still extremely accomplished work. Hill’s playing on this 11/8/63 session has some angularities and dissonances that show the influence of Thelonious Monk, but in a more modern modal framework at times (“Tired Trade”), though at other times the compositions also sound quite Monk-like (the ruminative “McNeil Island”). Most memorable is “Cantarnos,” so much so that it’s surprising it wasn’t taken up by other players until forty years later (when trumpeter Ron Horton used it to open his album Subtextures). Tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson is a good partner in all these enterprises, and there aren’t better rhythm sections than bassist Richard Davis and one-time Monk drummer Roy Haynes.
Smoke Stack (Blue Note)
A little like a trio album, but with two bassists (Davis and Eddie Khan, with Haynes again on drums), this 12/13/63 session puts Hill’s playing in the spotlight. This album wasn’t released until 1966, because at first Blue Note was recording Hill at such a pace that sessions were piling up faster than it was financially feasible to put them out and, one guesses, the less forward or colorful sound of this one seemed less likely to build an audience. But that matters less now, and the chance to hear his style in this context should not be passed up.
Point of Departure (Blue Note)
This 3/31/64 session is Hill’s most famous album, partly because of the sidemen – anything with mature Eric Dolphy gets attention, and Tony Williams is on drums (Henderson and Davis return, joined by trumpeter Kenny Dorham) – but mostly because of the compositions. They are structured and strongly dictate their moods, but within that they offer the players freedom that is fully taken advantage of. “New Monastery” nods to Monk, but the other three tracks are actually more interesting, with the mournful “Dedication” (now in two takes) a stunning conclusion to the album.
Andrew!!! (Blue Note)
Hill had collaborated with vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson already in January 1964 on Judgment, a fine and respected album, but this 6/25/64 session is more daring, more challenging, thanks to fiery fellow Chicagoan John Gilmore on tenor sax (he rarely played outside the Sun Ra Arkestra; this is one of only thirteen sideman gigs listed for him, most in 1962-67 – but see below). Davis, whom Hill had named as his favorite bassist, once again anchors the album, while genius drummer Joe Chambers (the secret ingredient of several great Blue Note albums) lends his multi-timbred talents. (The following year, Hutcherson utilized the talents of Hill and Chambers on his great Dialogue, for which Hill wrote four of the tracks while Chambers penned the other two.)
Compulsion (Blue Note)
This 10/8/65 date is even more complex than much of Hill’s earlier work, yet also freer. The frontline of Freddie Hubbard (trumpet, flugelhorn) and Gilmore (tenor sax and bass clarinet) is excellent. Chambers returns on drums along with two percussionists, while Cecil McBee moves into the bass chair, though joined on one of these four lengthy tracks by Davis to thicken the foundation. Hill’s playing could sometimes seem more rudimentary than his composing, but here he stretches out and delivers some of his most active performances, while Gilmore is in an even more exploratory mood than on their collaboration a year earlier, as the material dictates. This album is relatively underrated in Hill’s catalog, and just recently got reissued on its own, but is a strong favorite of mine.
Dance with Death (Blue Note)
By the end of 1966, Hill had recorded eleven albums in four years. With many still awaiting release, there was a lull in activity, and when he returned to the studio in 1968, it was for an album, Grass Roots, that was an all-out attempt to “break” Hill commercially with a soul jazz effort (it didn’t work). It was different on 10/11/68, however, with a new band – trumpeter Charles Tolliver, Joe Farrell (tenor and soprano saxes), bassist Victor Sproles, and drummer Billy Higgins – and a much more serious approach. Yes, the title cut has an Afro-Cuban lilt, but it still earns its dark title. It’s no wonder this session wasn’t released for over a decade, but its artistic quality was never in doubt and this is one of Hill’s best albums.
Passing Ships (Blue Note)
This November 1969 nonet session wasn’t released at the time because of concerns about the players’ execution of the complex charts and problems with the mix. It disappeared into the vaults and was only rediscovered in 2001, but quickly became an instant classic (well, to those in the know, but by then the Hill cult was growing). With trumpeters Woody Shaw and Dizzy Reece, trombonist Julian Priester, French hornist Bob Northern, Howard Johnson doubling tuba and bass clarinet, Farrell on soprano and tenor saxes, alto flute, bass clarinet, and English horn, and rhythm by bassist Ron Carter and drummer Lenny White, Hill has a vast array of hues on his arranging palette. Although not everything comes through clearly (engineer Rudy Van Gelder isn’t infallible!), and the soloists (mostly Farrell, Shaw, Reece, and Priester, all superb) are excessively spotlighted, the music marks a high point not just in Hill’s career, but in jazz composing and arranging.
Dusk (Palmetto)
Hill had not returned to the recording studio since 1990 after Blue Note cut him loose for the second time. In the interim, Blue Note producer Michael Cuscuna’s archival Mosaic label had reissued a box set of Hill’s ‘60s sessions and a Hill cult had blossomed. Some of its members joined with Hill on this magnificent comeback made up of two 1999 sessions. Trumpeter Horton, reedmen Greg Tardy and Marty Ehrlich, bassist Scott Colley, and drummer Billy Drummond were originally convened by Hill as “the Point of Departure Sextet,” but the predominant tone here is more autumnal than its predecessor of 35 years, and finds Hill’s playing style more pared down, though not so much that his solo coda to the album isn’t fully effective.
A Beautiful Day (Palmetto)
As brilliant an arranger as Hill was, he deserved the opportunity to make a big band album, and the three-night stand at Birdland in January 2002 documented here shows he took full advantage of his one chance in the format. The sixteen-piece group features not only Hill’s distinctive charts but also top-notch solos from music director Horton (whose arrangement of Hill’s “Divine Revelation” fits right in), Tardy, Ehrlich, J.D. Parran (baritone sax), and others, including the leader (who’s especially moving on “Pinocchio”). My only complaint is that the liner notes, by Stanley Crouch, have too many cheap shots at music he doesn’t like, so take them with a grain of salt, but don’t miss this album.
Time Lines (Blue Note)
Even if Hill’s third stint on Blue Note produced just this 2006 release (from 2005 sessions), it was worth it for closing the circle and sending him out on a high note. He reunited with Tolliver (who’s also making an inspired comeback on Blue Note), and made another knotty, deeply involving album. Tardy (tenor sax, clarinet, bass clarinet) is crucially versatile; bassist John Hebert and drummer Eric McPherson – Hill’s regular rhythm team at that time – are sensitively responsive; the leader proved one last time that a pianist doesn’t need flashy technique to make startling, engrossing music.
