Music Monday: Mingus

This past week was the centenary of Charles Mingus’s birth and it coincided with the release of a concert recording from Ronnie Scott’s in London in 1972. By 1972, of course, Mingus’s playing was not necessarily what it was a decade earlier, but the album is tight and enjoyable with Mingus’s characteristic balance between the raucous and the spiritual. I don’t really know the performers on this recording (other than Mingus and a vague familiarity with trumpeter Jon Faddis from his time in the mid-1970s with Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra). 

This got me thinking about Mingus’s catalogue and flipping (digitally, of course) through my collection of his albums and thinking about why I’ve always had a kind of excitement about Mingus, but also tended to manage my listening with him. For me, there was always a time and place for listening to his music (and the centenary of his birth was definitely one of those times and places).

My favorite Mingus is Oh Yeah from 1961 in part because I love the interplay between the member of his band. I’m particularly fond of Roland Kirk and Booker Ervin. I could do without Mingus’s singing and his absence on bass is notable, but “Hog Callin’ Blues” is one of my favorites. And the cover art is great.

Like most people, I love Blues & Roots (1959) and The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady (1963) which feel like they bracket Oh Yeah in some ways. Obviously, Blues & Roots (1959) features an all-star band and digs deep into Mingus’s background in the blues and gospel. The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady (1963) seems to take these some of these same ideas and infused them with Ellington, modal music and Spanish influences. As most music critics agree, The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady (1963) is a masterpiece and a dense and rewarding listen.

I need to go back and listen to Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus (1964) which features one of his greatest bands and swings without abandoning its roots in the blues. “Mood Indigo” followed by “Better Get Hit in Yo’ Soul” is just a great sequence!

At the same time, I’m drawn to Let My Children Hear Music (1972) which, like me, turned 50 this year, and offers a compelling window into in Mingus’s large ensemble thinking at the same time as his live show at Ronnie Scott’s. Let My Children Hear Music is not without a certain amount of weirdness. “Don’t Be Afraid, the Clown’s Afraid Too” features animal noises that perhaps meant to evoke a circus (or Jurassic Park). 

The rest of the album, however, takes turns swinging, honking, and blaring and more delicate passages. Through the entire thing, even when we might feel that the overdubbing and editing is a bit heavy-handed for our contemporary tastes (I’ve been also listening to the Bill Evan and George Russell album from the same year which is… difficult to appreciate), the magic of Mingus is audible.