Musings on Bird, II: Synchronic Bird

  Off the cuff notes and thoughts on Bird, Part II:

William Gottlieb, ca. 1948, public domain

One rewarding diversion for me during the quarantine has been comparing the trove of alternate takes of Bird on Dial, Savoy, and Verve (Mercury). Rather than just listening to the takes in sequence or alternating back and forth, I took a page from Phil Schaap's book and tried to listen to some of the takes at the same time to see how similar or different Bird's solo arcs would be. 

Schaap is known for occasionally attempting to play two different takes in real time on the air, with sometimes mixed results, but his comparison of the July 29, 1946 "Lover Man" and the August 8, 1951 version was undeniably illuminating: nearly same tempo, similar set up, and fairly similar phrasing at points (including a more or less perfect overlap on the bridge). Of course, Bird sounds stronger and more streamlined on the latter, but the former still has the wounded vulnerability that made it a favorite of Charles Mingus, among others.

Since I was doing this purely for my own edification, I made speed adjustments beforehand in Audacity so that 8-bar units or 12-bar blues choruses would roughly line up, so as to better hear how Bird's phrases lay in same parts of the form. I don't remember which ones I did first, but some of the more notable results (master take in right channel, alternate in left):

Yardbird Suite (March 28, 1946, Dial)

I almost fell out of my chair when I heard the two takes overlap on the second half of the bridge. During the first two As, the trading off between the two solos is unbelievable; to me, it really feels like Bird is intentionally handing off phrases back and forth through the later and earlier takes. This makes the convergence on the bridge all the more shocking, but it does seem that in traversing particular parts of the form that move into more distant keys from the A section, Bird is more limited or at least more selective about what he plays, opting for more riff-like or chattier phrases on the As and more refined, specific ideas on the bridge.

Scrapple from the Apple (November 4, 1947, Dial)

Bird's phrase lengths cross each other freely at the top of the bridge, but then seem to magically converge leading to the second half of the bridge. During the first A of the solo, the phrases seem to fill each other in, almost as though Bird had planned it out that way. That's probably some Pynchonian paranoia, but it might also be an artifact of the harmonious organization of Bird's melodic and rhythmic vocabulary, whose pieces inevitably form a coherent whole in every single recorded utterance in his discography. There are insights into his solo construction where Bird ends phrases, as he wraps up ideas in both takes before the start of the bridge, but otherwise, there's a significant amount of criss-crossing in register (going down versus ascending to the top of the horn) and rhythmic cross-talk.

Parker's Mood (September 18, 1948, Savoy)

This is the first take with the final selected take (the second take is also marvelous). The literature suggests that the first take was discarded due to the somewhat awkward and abrupt ending, but many writers have said that they actually prefer the solo on the first take, which unfolds with a perhaps even more spontaneity than the final take, but they're all phenomenal improvisations that stand the test of time. It's obvious listening to these takes at the same time that Bird isn't just playing licks; the flow and logic between statements has the quality and character of speech, which contributes to the emotional impact and directness of his musical statements.

Just Friends (November 30, 1949, Verve)

This is the master take (take 5) with the preceding alternate take (take 4). There's a surprising amount of variation in the phrasing of the melody, with many liberties taken in where Bird chooses to add embellishments before or after the original melodic statement. In fact, the fills at the beginning and throughout tend to be the places where Bird re-uses material from take to take. The beginning of both solos shares a similar idea and the ending of both solos also converge, but then the middle moves into some distinct territory. In the final statement of the melody, Bird re-uses some of the same embellishments, but seems to simply delay or anticipate their placement, so that he ends up playing the same melodic sequence, but not at the exact same time or in the same length of time. In general, I found the Bird with strings studio takes to be particularly instructive with regards to melodic phrasing—seeing which places Bird chooses to deviate or extend from the melody, and which places he seems to fix and deliver the same way each time.

Mohawk (June 6, 1950, Verve)

In comparing these takes, it also becomes clear how much more the rhythm section sticks to their roles during this period compared to the rhythm section liberty what we've become accustomed to post-1960 or so, although Monk's comping here seems more varied between takes than either Curley Russell or Buddy Rich. Compared to the earlier recordings on Dial and Savoy, I hear relatively fewer differences in placement or lengths of phrases during Bird's solos; it sounds like he has a more defined plan or set approach to the sequence of melodic ideas, whereas the earlier recordings show Bird playing less similarly between takes. This is probably as expected, given his greater experience as a leader, but the difference of just a few years for a still very young man—just slightly older than me at the time of this writing—is noteworthy, as though he'd aged many more years in those actual few years. 

To my ears, the two Dizzy's solos are far more different compared to one another than the Bird solos, although it might just be a matter of the muted trumpet timbres interfering. It's also fun to hear Monk and Russell playing short solos with each other's slightly earlier self.

Out of Nowhere (late summer, 1950, Verve)

Compared to the "Just Friends" recording only half a year ago, this performance with strings shows a very defined and determined approach to phrasing the melody between takes. Of course, Bird had already recorded this a few years earlier with his working group and had been playing it on gigs longer than "Just Friends," but it's still remarkable just how close the two takes are in their melodic phrasing. Bird almost seems to take a classical approach in his phrasing, just as the oboe solo statement is virtually identical between takes. 

Back Home Blues (August 8, 1951, Verve)

Paired with a novel and stimulating rhythm section of John Lewis, Ray Brown, and Kenny Clarke, Bird sounds refreshed and happy to get away from the more restrictive strings format and dig into some quintet bebop as was his primary mode of expression prior to commercial stardom. Both takes are full of rhythmic delights, with darting double-time runs throughout and stretched, micro-rhythmic detail in the melodic phrases. There's an interesting hesitation at the top of the final chorus in both takes, but then Bird seems to regroup and there's an unexpected convergence compared to the choruses before, with phrases starting and stopping together and the same amount of rest between. 

Kim (December 30, 1952, Verve)

Bird flys out of the gate on this burning Bb rhythm changes, but if you might have expected more overlap in an uptempo setting, you'll be surprised to find Bird weaving and criss-crossing, but rarely placing phrases in the same places at the same time. He tends to end phrases in the same places (before the bridge) and use certain shapes in certain parts of the form (the 5th and 6th bar of the A sections), but he is so fluent in this foundational idiom that there's actually far more variation than when he's delivering melodies with strings, for instance. Max Roach's solos overlaid are also exciting to hear together, especially when they set up the final outro. 

Chi-Chi (July 30, 1953, Verve)

First and last takes:

There's a notable convergence in the upper register that leads off the third chorus, although Bird interestingly takes an additional sixth chorus in the first take, which he doesn't do in the other takes. The differences in the development in the beginning two choruses seem to show that he's working in both takes toward the launching point in the third chorus, which then unwinds through the end of the solo.

Third and fourth takes:

Perhaps more than the first and last take, these middle takes seem closer to one another in terms of the content of ideas and their structure. The second chorus in both leads off with a similar ascending phrase before the two Birds part ways, although I'd say the third take sounds a bit more inspired with the fourth take seeming to continue beyond the point where Bird's phrasing suggested the solo could end. The consistency of the phrasing of the melody at the end reflects the specificity of his phrasing and articulation, what exactly he wanted to say with the melody of "Chi-Chi."

This is essentially Bird's final great studio session, and the only tune of that date that required more than one complete take. This is all the more remarkable since it's a blues that Max Roach had already recorded before (gifted to him by Bird) and since they were low on time, having started the session late, but Bird was clearly refining and striving toward a complete, balanced statement across the numerous takes. 

As a final note, this small project of mine also drove home the point that those swinging rhythm sections were decidedly not metronomic. The time pushes and pulls naturally depending on the context of the music and notably on how Bird or another soloist phrases, whether they seem to pull back the time by stretching out certain phrases or whether they compel the rhythm section to push to better accompany the solo statement. 

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Updated 8/27/2020, invaluable insights from Steve Coleman:

There are several different concepts happening here. It is not only Parker playing on different material, it’s much more than that. Yard’s approach to the American Songbook material is one thing, his approach to his own original music is another thing (the substrate forms are mostly a combination of blues, I Got Rhythm forms, Honeysuckle Rose forms, and various forms on particular standards), his approach to (particularly slow) blues is again another thing.

The blues (especially the slow blues) is very much a conversational and emotional folk form, more modal than anything else. When I say modal, I mean it in the musical sense, and also in the dense of mood music. This is emotive music. So, when taken in this sense, I would imagine that you would arrive at different conclusions in your analysis of the phrases, etc. This form should not be thought of in a similar manner as the others. Also, there are heavy cultural ramifications when dealing with the blues, but that’s a topic for another time.

As far as the phrasing (rhythmic and melodic), where things start and stop - in general, Yard was more concerned with playing like he spoke, not with purely musical concerns. In speech, we have natural what we could call punctuation (if it was expressed in writing). That’s what I hear in the phrasing. I do not hear a conscious attempt to have musical variety or not, as much as I hear story telling.

As far as the harmonic content. The substrates that Parker was playing on were short musical forms, harmonically and melodically. And these performances you picked are all studio performances, which means short solos. There is a big difference between studio Parker and live Parker. Studio Parker is more like a sculpture, or giving a speech - trying to deliver a sculpted statement. Live Parker was much more spontaneous, like having a conversation with someone on the street. This is a long subject, but I just wanted to give some sense that the approaches to studio and live are very different.

The stuff with the strings are arrangements, which naturally are more set. Yard primarily is playing the melody and playing obbligatos to himself (as opposed to behind a singer). Also, you have to remember that all of these songs had words, which many of the musicians of that time were hearing in their heads as they were playing, or at the least relating to some aspects of the lyric. This is very different from the scale-chord-formula approach of real book players today.

Parker’s approach to the American Songbook material is very different than his approach to his own music, and his approach to the blues (although the blues essence is in everything he played). These are two different concepts, which musicians today treat, and hear, as one concept (just playing through some “changes”).

IMO, we should not look at this music as BeBop. Parker, Monk, Dizzy, that’s three different approaches that usually work well together. And when Bird is playing with strings, with his own quartet/quintet, or playing the blues, or playing another concept like with the Machito Orchestra, he has a vocabulary, but that vocabulary is being used differently because of the different environments. But he is still speaking slang - he’s not all of a sudden speaking Mandarin. So we can’t get too caught up in the words and phrases that he is using, and that may repeat, as much as how he is using them in a particular context, and what he is trying to say

In closing, we hear according to what we know. No matter what Parker is doing, a musician today will hear according to what they know. If a cat who learned how to play in schools thinks in terms of scales, chords, changes, 4/4, etc., then that is what they will hear when they listen to Byas, Bird, etc.

And of course cats are more metronomic today, and not just in rhythm sections. Musicians today learn how to play in the schools. Technology is also an influence. People who live in their telephones and on the Internet are not going to be thinking like people who lived in prior times. Every time period has it’s character. To my ears, the phrasing of many musicians today almost sounds like typewriters. This is not good or bad, it’s simply a reflection of the times we live in and the technology. Music is a sonic reflection of us. How we are is how the music is.