Steve Kuhn Trio with Joe Lovano – Mostly Coltrane (2009)

Share this:

by S. Victor Aaron

Brooklyn-born Steve Kuhn has not only enjoyed a long and fruitful career as a pianist of acclaim, but an interesting one as well. He studied classical piano under Margaret Chaloff, who also educated other jazz pianist luminaries like Herbie Hancock and Keith Jarrett. At thirteen, he comped for Madame Chaloff’s son Serge, the great baritone player. Barely in his twenties, Kuhn played in Kenny Dorham’s combo in the late fifties, Stan Getz in the early sixties and later in Art Farmer’s band before making a name for himself as a leader. And then there was his two month stint in the John Coltrane Quartet.

By the beginning of 1960, Coltrane was finally moving to establish himself outside the shadow of his boss Miles Davis and assembled his own quartet, a unit that under varying guises would go on to create some of the most mind-blowing music of this uncompromising decade and redefine the jazz combo as a more tightly-defined unit. Kuhn didn’t even get to record with Coltrane before he was eventually replaced by another unknown at the time, McCoy Tyner, later in 1960. But it was long enough to make an impression on the young Kuhn, who witnessed up front the flowering of a gargantuan talent in the immediate aftermath of the tenorist’s first masterpiece, Giant Steps.

Nearly fifty years later, Kuhn is paying tribute to the long-departed master with a collection of recordings that Coltrane played and composed (with a couple of Kuhn originals tossed in). The plainly titled Mostly Coltrane went on sale this past Tuesday. With there being probably more Coltrane tribute albums now out there than Coltrane albums, Kuhn’s stab at this concept merits more than the usual attention for a couple of reasons.

First, it provides a glimpse of what Coltrane’s songs might sounded like had Kuhn remained in the band for all those years instead of Tyner. There’s no arguing that Tyner’s powerful, percussive attack and unique chordal expressions was a critical component in the sound makeup of the classic version of this Quartet. But Kuhn’s less-fussy, fluid approach contains a spirituality of its own. Furthermore, Kuhn did play some of the songs included in this set with Coltrane, before Coltrane had committed them to wax. Now for the first time, we get to hear these songs from the piano player who originally performed them before live audiences. It’s not very likely that the approach Kuhn is using for these songs today is much like it was back then when he was still finding his footing. But he clearly knows these songs from a first-hand perspective.

The other reason for this not being your run-of-the-mill Coltrane tribute is because Kuhn augmented his trio (David Finck, double-bass, and Joey Baron, drums) with a guy who is a pretty good saxophone player himself: Joe Lovano. For this meeting, Lovano even dares to stick with tenor sax almost entirely throughout. But Lovano is so firmly established with his own voice on the horn, there’s really no need for him to try to measure up to the legend; Lovano only needs to be himself.

Kuhn’s selection of Coltrane songs makes it clear that he chose only songs that hold special meaning to him; there’s a few familiar cuts like “Crescent” and “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes,” but stays clear of anything from Giant Steps, My Favorite Things or A Love Supreme. As aforementioned, some compositions come from the time Kuhn was in the band, but a couple (“Jimmy’s Mode” and “Configuration”) weren’t even released to the public until 27 years after Coltrane’s death. For the most part, the songs chosen possess either extended, mystic melodies, or tight, crisp harmonics.

The “spiritual” songs abound on this record. “Welcome” comes and goes like a gentle breeze; Lovano plays long notes in a singing voice and Kuhn takes a brief solo that’s mellow and contemplative. This is followed by the quicker tempo and free-flowing gait of “Song Of Praise,” an epic piece where Kuhn and Lovano seem to dispense with formal solo construction and play to the aura of the tune. It’s here when the drummer, Joey Baron, begins to make his presence known, as he does throughout much for the album. He is an explosive drummer who is less thunderous and more brisk than Elvin Jones, but like Elvin, succeeds in supplying a each song with energy and unpredictability. You could say he is a third reason why this isn’t just any Coltrane tribute record.Baron, in fact, is soloing right underneath Lovano on the contemplative ballad “Crescent.”

For “Spiritual,” first unveiled on Trane’s Live At The Village Vanguard 1961 performances, the song seems almost harmonically inverted. Lovano switches to a tarogato (a Hungarian clarinet-type woodwind instrument) that approximates the sound of Coltrane’s soprano sax. Kuhn stretches out here more than usual, and his right-handed meditations at times even sounds like Tyner.

“Central Park West” is one of the prettiest Coltrane tunes, and dates from the time Kuhn had played in his group. While this rendition is performed without any flaws, it doesn’t quite possess the magic of the other time Lovano covered it, either. “Like Sonny” is a Coltrane song that really should be covered more. It’s got a delightful, ascending melody that Lovano plays counter two on the second go around of that chord progression.

“Configuration,” from Coltrane’s convulsive final period, almost seems out of place here, as it’s balls-to-the-wall atonal free improvisation. To be sure, it’s decent whack jazz and Kuhn is no stranger to the avant garde, but it’s a rare instance on the album where it feels like Kuhn is trying to fill in a square. More successful is the other cut sourced from Stellar Regions, “Jimmy’s Mode,” where Finck gets to solo with searching, doleful lines, followed by moody musings of their own from Kuhn and Lovano.

The closing solo piano “Trance,” a Kuhn-composed tune, is also a Kuhn-styled tune, so it doesn’t really fit in with the Coltrane songs. But with the beautifully sweeping classically-inclined paths it takes, that hardly matters; it’s would be a fine way to end most any album.

Since he had actually played for the man, an album celebrating the music of John Coltrane should be a natural concept for Steve Kuhn to take on. And, it does comes across that way. Then again, he goes against presumptions in many of the songs he chose, and in several instances, the manner in which he chose to play those songs, and that’s a welcome surprise. Combined with the other distinct personalities in Lovano and Baron, as well as the steadiness of Finck, Mostly Coltrane is mostly a standout Coltrane tribute record.

S. Victor Aaron