Joe Harriott who passed away in 1973 is a man who evokes considerable debate and varied opinion in the history of British jazz. Acclaimed as a trailblazer on par with the ground-breaking "free jazz" avant garde-ist Ornette Coleman, saxophonist Harriott lived a wild-at-heart life full of dark troughs and spectacular peaks. As is so often true, when the lives of great men are assessed after their passing, their accomplishments shine more clearly and brightly than when they were alive. At the hour of his death, Harriott was living in poverty and the general consensus of his British jazz peers was that he had not really brought about any major change.
Had he lived in another historical epoch, his name could possibly be equal to that of Charlie Parker and Coleman. Did being a first wave West Indian black immigrant in 1950s Britain hinder the wider recognition of his genius? The arguments fly back and forth, but recent reviews of his work and life seem to confirm what a small group of musicians and collaborators always knew: Joe Harriott was a top notch sax player, extraordinarily skilful, spookily creative and tirelessly adventurous.
Tellingly, Harriott began his musical tuition in the famous Alpha Boys School in Kingston a religious institution dedicated to realigning the wayward moral compasses of young and troubled Jamaican boys through a regime of strict discipline, hard love and music. The school’s alumni roll reads like a history of Jamaican music including the brilliant trombonist and chief Skatalite Don Drummond, pianist Theo Beckford, sax man Cedric Brooks and reggae ace drummer Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace. In those days it was near impossible for an aspiring jazz musician to not be influenced Charlie Parker. Harriott was no different. Indeed, his bebop chops were so accomplished that those who worked with him and knew him most intimately considered him to be the equal if not better than the giants of America, Parker and Coltrane.
He first landed on British shores in 1951 as part of Jamaican jazz band tour. His fearsome playing caught the attention of some kindred spirits but most of the British jazz fraternity which was more conservative than its American counterpart and perhaps still a bit shell shocked by World War II were dismissive. Harriott managed to secure spots in important combos and bands including Ronnie Scott’s big band. By the dawn of the 1960s, however, bebop no longer fascinated Harriott who was rapidly developing his own approach to "free jazz" in a simultaneous historic parallel to what Ornette Coleman was doing across the Atlantic ocean. It is Harriott’s "whole-of-ensemble" approach to free playing that distinguished him from Coleman and is his lasting legacy to British jazz music.
But arguably, Harriott’s greatest popularity came in the late 1960s and early 1970s when he made albums in collaboration with two of India’s finest jazz exports, John Mayer and Amancio D’Silva.
Overture
with John Mayer
Although Harriott’s interest in exploring "Indo-jazz" was entirely musically driven (evidently, he did not harbour any spiritual interest in Indian mysticism or Hindu philosophy like Coltrane) his playing with Mayer fit snuggly within the Anglo-Indian composer’s vision. In this piece from 1966’s Indo-Jazz Suite, Harriott’s fluid playing gives the Hindustani rhythms a sparkling performance that dances above the beat like flashes of first light across a sacred river.
Stephano’s Dance
with Amancio D’Silva
Amancio D’Silva, a Mumbaikar Goan, and friend of Mayer’s made a trio of well received albums in the UK in which he led others with his divine guitar playing. Hum Dono, a Harriott/ D’Silva collaboration from 1969, is rightly considered one of British jazz’s greatest achievements – its 2015 re-issue received a 5 star review from the online authority All About Jazz. Though D’Silva was the driving force behind the album, composing most pieces and demonstrating startling command of his instrument, Harriott was definitely no hired help. Indeed, he gets top billing. On this piece composed and dedicated to D’Silva’s son (who keeps his father’s legacy alive) Harriott contributes a lively early solo that perfectly evokes the joy and carefreeness inherent in a child’s naïve dance moves.
One of the debates that has swirled around the "history" of Joe Harriott is to what extent was he "ignored" or "victimised for his race" by the British jazz establishment. That if his outstanding ability on the sax and his innovations in "free playing" are so widely acknowledged, why is he not regarded as a player on par with Parker, Coltrane and others? “Joe was just as good as them [Coltrane, Parker] but he came from the colonies. And in those days the Caribbean and India were still considered British. We'd just got our independence, but it was too soon for us to just be...well, ourselves." This is the assessment of John Mayer, another "genius" who deserves wider acclaim. And yet, Harriott was well regarded and well reviewed by the British press (albeit a narrow part of it) during his life and did manage to lead bands, collaborate with others and make records without interference. As seen above, he got top billing in his work with D’Silva. Hardly an indication of discrimination.
Song Before Sunrise
with John Mayer
A slow piece which in substance and title seems to be conceived as an "alaap’ to the day. Moving and intense, the instruments (including flute, violin, piano in addition to tabla and sitar) play in a relaxed and dreamy way. Harriott has an early but very short solo that humorously suggests there is a torpidity to the occasion. The sitar then tries to stir the ensemble to life but withdraws as rapidly it emerged on the scene. This is an intricate composition in which the saxophone weaves in and out, never dominating, but often driving the forward movement. Though the spiritual was not what brought him together with Mayer, clearly their shared identify as "colonials" and outsiders in a mainly white nation created common ground.
Jaipur
with Amancio D’Silva
Harriott opens this wonderful piece with a smooth, elongated sliding solo that serves as introduction to the stellar picking of D’Silva. In all his collaborations with D’Silva and Mayer, as an early "inventor" of what we now call fusion and world music, Harriott demonstrated his discipline, class and commitment to his art to put aside his free jazz and hard bebop inclinations and play within and give life to the more contrived works of others. Sadly, in his personal life this sort of integrity and skill was notable by its absence. A demanding personality (Mayer eventually stopped working with him because of unstated "difficulties") Joe Harriott, it is reported, abandoned his children to the care of his wives/girlfriends taking no interest in their well-being. Allegations of violent behaviour also followed him throughout his career and in 1973 at the age of 45 Joe Harriott passed away a broken and poverty struck man. While his reputation is being reassessed we can be grateful that for a few years nearly half a century ago he connected with a couple of Indian immigrant musicians like himself to make some outstanding music.
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Had he lived in another historical epoch, his name could possibly be equal to that of Charlie Parker and Coleman. Did being a first wave West Indian black immigrant in 1950s Britain hinder the wider recognition of his genius? The arguments fly back and forth, but recent reviews of his work and life seem to confirm what a small group of musicians and collaborators always knew: Joe Harriott was a top notch sax player, extraordinarily skilful, spookily creative and tirelessly adventurous.
Tellingly, Harriott began his musical tuition in the famous Alpha Boys School in Kingston a religious institution dedicated to realigning the wayward moral compasses of young and troubled Jamaican boys through a regime of strict discipline, hard love and music. The school’s alumni roll reads like a history of Jamaican music including the brilliant trombonist and chief Skatalite Don Drummond, pianist Theo Beckford, sax man Cedric Brooks and reggae ace drummer Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace. In those days it was near impossible for an aspiring jazz musician to not be influenced Charlie Parker. Harriott was no different. Indeed, his bebop chops were so accomplished that those who worked with him and knew him most intimately considered him to be the equal if not better than the giants of America, Parker and Coltrane.
He first landed on British shores in 1951 as part of Jamaican jazz band tour. His fearsome playing caught the attention of some kindred spirits but most of the British jazz fraternity which was more conservative than its American counterpart and perhaps still a bit shell shocked by World War II were dismissive. Harriott managed to secure spots in important combos and bands including Ronnie Scott’s big band. By the dawn of the 1960s, however, bebop no longer fascinated Harriott who was rapidly developing his own approach to "free jazz" in a simultaneous historic parallel to what Ornette Coleman was doing across the Atlantic ocean. It is Harriott’s "whole-of-ensemble" approach to free playing that distinguished him from Coleman and is his lasting legacy to British jazz music.
But arguably, Harriott’s greatest popularity came in the late 1960s and early 1970s when he made albums in collaboration with two of India’s finest jazz exports, John Mayer and Amancio D’Silva.
Overture
with John Mayer
Although Harriott’s interest in exploring "Indo-jazz" was entirely musically driven (evidently, he did not harbour any spiritual interest in Indian mysticism or Hindu philosophy like Coltrane) his playing with Mayer fit snuggly within the Anglo-Indian composer’s vision. In this piece from 1966’s Indo-Jazz Suite, Harriott’s fluid playing gives the Hindustani rhythms a sparkling performance that dances above the beat like flashes of first light across a sacred river.
Stephano’s Dance
with Amancio D’Silva
Amancio D’Silva, a Mumbaikar Goan, and friend of Mayer’s made a trio of well received albums in the UK in which he led others with his divine guitar playing. Hum Dono, a Harriott/ D’Silva collaboration from 1969, is rightly considered one of British jazz’s greatest achievements – its 2015 re-issue received a 5 star review from the online authority All About Jazz. Though D’Silva was the driving force behind the album, composing most pieces and demonstrating startling command of his instrument, Harriott was definitely no hired help. Indeed, he gets top billing. On this piece composed and dedicated to D’Silva’s son (who keeps his father’s legacy alive) Harriott contributes a lively early solo that perfectly evokes the joy and carefreeness inherent in a child’s naïve dance moves.
One of the debates that has swirled around the "history" of Joe Harriott is to what extent was he "ignored" or "victimised for his race" by the British jazz establishment. That if his outstanding ability on the sax and his innovations in "free playing" are so widely acknowledged, why is he not regarded as a player on par with Parker, Coltrane and others? “Joe was just as good as them [Coltrane, Parker] but he came from the colonies. And in those days the Caribbean and India were still considered British. We'd just got our independence, but it was too soon for us to just be...well, ourselves." This is the assessment of John Mayer, another "genius" who deserves wider acclaim. And yet, Harriott was well regarded and well reviewed by the British press (albeit a narrow part of it) during his life and did manage to lead bands, collaborate with others and make records without interference. As seen above, he got top billing in his work with D’Silva. Hardly an indication of discrimination.
Song Before Sunrise
with John Mayer
A slow piece which in substance and title seems to be conceived as an "alaap’ to the day. Moving and intense, the instruments (including flute, violin, piano in addition to tabla and sitar) play in a relaxed and dreamy way. Harriott has an early but very short solo that humorously suggests there is a torpidity to the occasion. The sitar then tries to stir the ensemble to life but withdraws as rapidly it emerged on the scene. This is an intricate composition in which the saxophone weaves in and out, never dominating, but often driving the forward movement. Though the spiritual was not what brought him together with Mayer, clearly their shared identify as "colonials" and outsiders in a mainly white nation created common ground.
Jaipur
with Amancio D’Silva
Harriott opens this wonderful piece with a smooth, elongated sliding solo that serves as introduction to the stellar picking of D’Silva. In all his collaborations with D’Silva and Mayer, as an early "inventor" of what we now call fusion and world music, Harriott demonstrated his discipline, class and commitment to his art to put aside his free jazz and hard bebop inclinations and play within and give life to the more contrived works of others. Sadly, in his personal life this sort of integrity and skill was notable by its absence. A demanding personality (Mayer eventually stopped working with him because of unstated "difficulties") Joe Harriott, it is reported, abandoned his children to the care of his wives/girlfriends taking no interest in their well-being. Allegations of violent behaviour also followed him throughout his career and in 1973 at the age of 45 Joe Harriott passed away a broken and poverty struck man. While his reputation is being reassessed we can be grateful that for a few years nearly half a century ago he connected with a couple of Indian immigrant musicians like himself to make some outstanding music.
