Thursday, May 8, 2008

Charles Mingus. Live.


If time travel were a possibility for me, I would do a lot of crazy things. Along the way, I think I would travel back to see Charles Mingus play live. Sadly, the last Deloreon was sold from Bay Ridge Honda last week, so I’m stuck with this live recording of Mingus at Antibes. Which is just what this is, a live recording. A recording of Mingus and his band cutting up one night at a festival in Antibes (wherever the hell that is).

Live performances can be a mixed bag. Raw emotion and energy can be captured in a way that studio recordings can’t replicate. And there is no lack of that here. Born out of bebop and strong gospel ties, Mingus’ work is never void of character and emotion. But within the emotion lies error. So while the energy of a live performance can be felt, so too can its shortcomings.

Recorded in 1960, following Mingus Ah Um and Ming Dynasty, Mingus at Antibes features a generally piano-less quintet. The group is considerably smaller than his more well-known endeavors; Mingus Ah Um was recorded as an Octet for example.

Though his band is certainly accomplished (Eric Dolphy, Booker Ervin, Ted Curson) the lack of piano leaves a void that is not easily replaced. This is with the exception of “I’ll Remember April” in which Bud Powell joins. But Powell’s comping only reasserts what is missing from the rest of the performance. Recordings of “Better Get Hit In Your Soul” and “Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting” seem empty without a fuller baselined harmonic structure.

Additionally, mistaken moments hurt the overall performance. Whereas Miles Davis’ forced splee-ahs feel intended and endeared, the snafus within this recording are hardly charming and more often just sound like, well, mistakes. A missed re-entrance on “Better Get Hit In Your Soul” is a prime example.

This is not to say that the entire performance is lacking. “What Love” is gorgeously heartfelt and listening to Curson and Dolphy trade fours on “I’ll Remember April” is really worth the price of admission. Admission to, well, this live show.