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REVIEW    DownBeat  /  September 1, 1960

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Eric Dolphy
Outward Bound

New Jazz NJLP 8236

★★★★★


This album is the first extended exposure I’ve had to the remarkable talent that is Eric Dolphy’s. On the strength of what I experienced in the course of absorbing the release, I firmly believe that this man will be one of the most rewarding jazzmen of the coming decade.

It’s possible to draw a parallel between Dolphy and Ornette Coleman—similar harmonic conceptions being the most cogent—but, to me, Dolphy’s message is the more coherent, and his is the greater talent. Drawing parallels, however, can get out of hand; in the end, the artist must be judged on his own work, though comparisons and contrasts play an important role in shaping any judgment.

Above all else, his playing and writing have life. Sometimes sounding as if it is boiling with rate, Dolphy’s music is filled with sharp jagged lines that lift the listener as they spiral to peak after peak of raw emotional expression. The impact of his work is in his startling display of these emotions. I know of no word that would neatly categorize the emotional content of Dolphy’s work, but it would have to encompass fury, frustration, and all the other twisting emotions.

Of the three horns he uses on this date, his bass clarinet is the most intriguing. I’ve never heard a sound quite like the one he gets on this neglected instrument. In the upper register, the sound is best described as being close to an alto’s, but this doesn’t catch the flavor of its uniqueness. In the lower register, the sound doesn’t vary too much from the timbre usually associated with the instrument, but Dolphy produces a more tortured tone than one is used to hearing from bass clarinet.

Several times on the bass clarinet tracks, his solo attack—and it’s best described as an attack—is preceded by a yelp from the instrument. This may be a characteristic of the horn when played hard, or it may be a quirk of Dolphy’s. But whatever the reason behind this yelp, the effect is marvelous.

Although Dolphy varies his conception on all three instruments—his flute is less like his bass clarinet than is his alto—there is a taut wire binding them all together: the power to transmit emotion from the player to the listener. And that’s the mark of a real artist.

Hubbard displays a lyrical ability and firmness that belie his relative youth. His clear tone and excellent execution enhance his logical ideas. His solo on 245 catches the melancholy spirit of deserted streets, but he brightens it with sly asides that keep it from becoming moribund.

Green Dolphin finds him in a Miles mood, mute in mike and all. But the similarity is a surface one; Hubbard’s work is happier than is Davis’. His playing is shot through with this exuberance, which only once, toward the end of his solo on Les, gets the upper hand.

The man who best catches the spirit of Dolphy is Byard. His playing is craggy as the leader’s, but I get the feeling that his instrument is impeding his fullest expression. After all, there are things you can do on reed instruments that are impossible on piano. For example, in his G.W. solo he plays one dissonant passage in which the voices are moving every which way, as if he were trying to get more out of the piano than possible.

Tucker, although in the main confined to section work, sounds like the freshest bassist to come along since Sam Jones. Not content just to keep time, he involves himself with each soloist as if he were caring on a conversation with him and underlining is statements.

And Roy Haynes! What can you say? That we swings? That he kicks everybody on the date? Mere platitudes. He’s more like the source from which the others draw sustenance a well of life.

Life. That’s it. This album is life. —Don DeMicheal
Outward Bound: G.W.; Green Dolphin Street; Les; 245; Glad to Be Unhappy; Miss Toni.
Personnel: Dolphy, alto saxophone, bass clarinet, flute; Freddie Hubbard, trumpet; Jackie Byard, piano; George Tucker, bass; Roy Haynes, drums.

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