Steve,

I predate you as an Elvin worshiper by about 25 years. I saw the man himself play at Jilly's in Dayton Ohio 'way back around Feb or March of 1975. He was leading his (then current) road tour featuring Roland Prince, Steve Grossman and I think Chico Freeman. Back then, some (or all) of those dudes appeared on a lot of Elvin's sides (that's old school for phonograph records) under his own name. I know, I had 'em all.

So, anyway, I spent a gang of bread digging the sounds every night (he was doing six there), very up close and personal. Through a mutual acquaintance, I got to hang with him a little bit. Those six nights were the most music education I ever experienced in my life, with all due respect to my mentors (my father, and two teachers).

He was playing a new (post Baldwin acquisition) Gretch stop-sign badge, 6-piece blond wood finish kit. Bear in mind that, before selling off the business, Fred Gretsch himself personally custom-built Elvin's gear. That's true at least during the time of Elvin's accession to personal fame via John Coltrane and his own early groups as leader.

Elvin was guarded in his discussion, but not quite able to fully mask his disappointment in what he was hearing out of the new-fangled kit. Again, something to bear in mind: he was exploring the "cross-over" direction some of his compadres had taken, wooing the baby-boom rock market. You could hear the changes in kit sound dictated by that different style of music (ref: Somebody's rocking my Jazz Boat for a good example). His drum sound dried out, as electric amplification crept into his band. To peacefully co-exist with Alphonso Johnson's (and others') electric bass playing, Elvin had to "stuff a sock" in his bass drum. Gone were the dark, ringing, near-tympanic accents I used to really enjoy in his work with Coltrane and, in particular, as the perfect sonic compliment to Jimmy Garrison's warmly beautiful contra-bass artistry. Instead, he went to a very popping, dry bass drum sound so familiar then at many live rock gigs. I think it was the only way Elvin's low-end drum work could still cut the band without microphoning.

I retain very clear mind-pictures of his personal performance, however. I kicked, clawed and climbed my way to ring-side, to a table where the top of my head was about 18" below the snare drum. I could watch his hands and feet unobstructed. That's the way to go to school, man. I saw it and heard it, and all I can say is, to this day it's still the greatest music experience I've had!! There are no words I can come up with to succinctly describe the experience, but I would not hesitate a second if given another chance to "attend class." What was immediately impressive was how "grooved-in" he was stylistically. His sound was so distinctive, and yet so coherent that you never saw or heard a gap in his musical statements throughout the performance, set after set, night after night. And forget repetition, man. That cat was always creating, not looking back for something he liked a few choruses ago.

So what did I see? Well, I recall his right leg being taped up like a running back, which says something about his approach to the bass drum, doesn't it? God, his single pedal bass technique, dynamics and articulation have never been equaled in my humble opinion. Remember I saw it and heard it. I've also seen and heard Blakey, Tony Williams (reqiescat in pace, brother) Cobham, Rich, Mouzon, Lenny White and other luminaries playing live. No way they cut Elvin's bass drum chops. Hell, not even double-bass playing has produced as much inventive and attention-getting work, and I really dig double-bass kits (had a Rogers 74 catalog "Ultra Power 7" kit myself, back in those days), With all praise to Allah for life of Louis Bellson, Louis may be the only two-footer to come close, and he does so beautifully.

The single most-striking visual image I have is one of his extended solos. As you watch, you begin to see less and less distinction between man and drum. I swear he used some kinda juju to become part of his drums. His physical appearance during solo work was at once kinetic, trance-like, like, on an evolved level most of us haven't reached yet. It seemed that when his playing was most furious, his physical command of his activity was absolutely fluid, as though he had a shark's cartilage skeleton and could bend his bones to his will. His arms, in motion, resembled precisely placed whip cracks, and he was leaning forward, far out over the ride toms, eyes turned upward with an other-worldly grin plainly visible.

I had to go all six nights to begin to assimilate some fraction of what was going on artistically in that little room in Dayton. While I remember most of it clearly, and I did "experience" it totally, it's still evolving in my own head, darn near 25 years later. That's the kind of stamp Elvin left on me. Small wonder it blows me away now just realizing that he's still very much on the scene.

So, there it is, Steve. Still ga-ga after all these years, and I demand that you share this with fellow Elvin-ites on your web site.

Play on, baba Elvin.

Jack Waters, aka Jackdamax, jackwaters@worldnet.att.net