“Mingus in Argentina” — An Unexpected Gift

I must confess to hearing some of the Buenos Aires recordings on bootleg LPs, though their sound quality pales in comparison to this Resonance release.

Mingus in Argentina: The Buenos Aires Concerts, Charles Mingus (3 LPs, Resonance Records)

This three-record set, also available as a two-CD release, features recordings from June 2 and 3, 1977, at two Buenos Aires venues. The quintet includes trumpeter Jack Walrath, saxophonist Ricky Ford, pianist Bob Neloms, and the indispensable Danny Richmond on drums. It’s an occasionally wild collection of music made when Mingus himself was “diminished” physically, as the notes tell us. (He died of ALS on January 5, 1979). Annotator Brian Priestley reminds us of something I experienced when I saw the musician during this period: “Especially seen in person, Mingus clearly appeared less dynamic and forceful than his audiences expected.”

When I heard him earlier, in the ’60s and early ’70s, he was sometimes volatile. I particularly remember a date in Detroit when he was displeased with the playing of his group, though perhaps he was grumpy for other reasons. Mingus hated what he considered bad music, even when he was making it. While the trumpeter was desperately playing a solo, Mingus repeatedly yelled at him, “No, not like that!” The poor guy kept blowing harder and harder. Then Mingus told the whole band to be quiet. Reminding us that he was always the greatest soloist in his bands, Mingus played a long solo blues on bass that will always be one of the highlights of my career as a listener. Between sets, as I was talking to him in a small anteroom, he noticed, and glared at, a very professional looking tape setup that he evidently hadn’t approved of. Mingus had already been victimized by bootlegs, but he didn’t intervene.

That said, I must confess to hearing some of the Buenos Aires recordings on bootleg LPs, though their sound quality pales in comparison to this Resonance release. Surprisingly, the band on both nights faced what might be called ‘a fit audience‘ though few. Mingus hadn’t gotten the support from the press that he and the band deserved. Yet musicians sound remarkably exuberant. The compositions recorded here in extended versions will be familiar to Mingus fans. As he introduced his “Goodbye, Pork Pie Hat” in his characteristic mumble, Mingus mentions that the piece has been recorded by Joe Beck. There were several hundred other recordings of Mingus’ most popular tune, so this was a surprising choice to remember. The notes to Mingus in Argentina tell us that Mingus didn’t like Beck’s version. Evidently it rankled. My favorite recording of “Goodbye, Pork Pie Hat” remains Mingus’s own first version, recorded in 1959, two months after Lester Young’s demise, and issued on Better Get It In Your Soul. I also wouldn’t want to be without guitarist John McLaughlin’s solo version (on My Goal’s Beyond) and Gil Evans’s arrangement for big band (Live at Sweet Basil). It’s been sung by Joni Mitchell (on Mingus) and Mark Murphy (the latter on his Jazz Standards). The lyrics identify Prez, as he was called, as a “bright star in a dark age,” when musicians were “in an underdog position.”

Charles Mingus on bass. Photo: Bandcamp

The Buenos Aires “Pork Pie Hat” is played at a quicker tempo than the original. The arrangement also sounds somehow less coherent: Neloms plays sharply accented chords and Richmond fills in hyperactively, as if the pair no longer had patience with the subdued, mournful quality of the original. As was standard practice — and this is a good sign — you can hear Mingus yelling in the background. Trumpeter Walrath takes the first solo, and then Neloms takes a thumping solo, with a quote from “I Found a New Baby” working its way into his runs. Throughout the concerts, the rhythm section is active, even fierce. “Noddin’ Yo’ Head Blues” begins with one of a very few Mingus solos in the concert. The band seems to be having fun: several of them sing the melody of “Noddin’ Yo’ Head” off-mic in a mocking manner. The soloing in the band is also intense: Ricky Ford’s solo here and elsewhere is powerful. Soon he is playing in double-time as Richmond slams around behind him. (The only previous recording I know of “Noddin’” is by a Mingus-oriented band led by Richmond after Mingus’s passing).

“Three or Four Shades of Blue” initially features trumpeter Walrath. Once again, the rhythm section seems almost to explode as the piece turns into a group improvisation. Mingus twice pays tribute to his hero, playing his composition “Duke Ellington’s Sound of Love” and Sy Johnson’s “For Harry Carney”. Prodded by Richmond, who sometimes sounds in charge, Ford takes an aggressive tenor solo on “Sound of Love”. After things quiet down for Neloms’s piano solo, Mingus’s lines can be heard particularly clearly. Neloms quotes “Nobody Knows the Trouble I Seen”. (Walrath matches him later by quoting “Nature Boy”.)

Regrettably the opening minutes of “Sue’s Changes”, dedicated by Mingus to his wife, are missing. But there is a long, upbeat version of his “Cumbria and Jazz Fusion”. Characteristically, Mingus changes tempo after eight minutes. (We hear him counting off four in the new tempo.) It’s as if he didn’t want his musicians to fall into a groove. Soon afterwards a solo piano figure brings the piece to an apparent close. Then the piece revives itself. Neloms goes on to play what, in classical music, we would call a piano cadenza. The sets are free in many ways: the rhythm section is always ready to intervene and the horns primed to extend beyond the changes.

Several times in the collection we hear Mingus negotiating for more time on stage. (At least that is how I hear it.) Perhaps, in the spirit of encores, we twice hear Mingus improvising solo on piano. He made a whole album on piano for Impulse. Still, it’s fascinating to hear these quiet two to three minute musings. But then, this whole collection is an unexpected gift.