Baikida E. J. Carroll

December 12, 2023

Orange Fish Tears
SouffleContinue FFL CD 008

Luther Thomas
11th Street Fire Suite
Corbett vs Dempsey CD 097

Not as well known as its contemporary organization, Chicago’s Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM), St. Louis’ Black Artists’ Group (BAG) only officially existed from 1968 to 1972. But its influence has continued until today. Incorporating dance, theater, visual arts, and creative writing, BAG’s most long-lasting contribution was musical, as the subsequent careers of members like Julius Hemphill, Lester Bowie and other demonstrate.

Many BAGsters left St. Louis and these prime examples of creative music headed by lesser-known members were recorded respectively in Paris (Orange Fish Tears) and New York (11th Street Fire Suite), moving past (Free)Jazz and Blues bases to dabble in free-form mysticism and emerging World Music. On the first disc from 1974 trumpeter/flugelhornist Baikida Carroll and saxophonist/flutist Oliver Lake were from St. Louis, while Paris-based keyboardist Manuel Villaroel is Chilean and percussionist Naná Vasconcelos was Brazilian. Vasconcelos’ use of the friction drum, bells, bird calls and ratcheting guiro introduces non-Western elements to the four compositions, while Villaroel electric piano tickles link sounds, especially the concluding “Porte D’ Orleans”, to the soon-to-be-clichéd fusion movement. Otherwise his strong piano comping complementing reed slurs and brass portamento from stacked horn undulations confirm the basic improvised thrust of the tunes.

This is more clearly apparent on “Rue Roger”, where unaccompanied Carroll and Lake challenge one another with exquisite tone bending and extended techniques. Capable of producing a beautiful, almost legit tone, the trumpeter is constantly met by the saxophonist’s dual note expansions and high-pitched smears. Lake’s ability to bite into improvisations and wallow in single note examination before attaining the highest pitches also encourages the trumpeter reach farther into multiphonics by digging into the horn’s body tube without valve pressure. Eventually both reach a crescendo of high-pitched staccato bites and descending squeaks.. The throbbing anticipation which characterize the first half of the disc is fully realized by the end. Final brass plunger notes reassert the basic thrust of the compositions and improvisations. Detours into procedures like inner piano string shakes, metallic percussion rubs, reed honks and pinpointed brass triplets have already shown what can be achieved with thought and skill. Creation of sound collages as well as whinnying and staccato pivots into pure improvisation and rhythmic asides is what makes Orange Fish Tears a BAG-classic and progenitor of musical currents that would be more fully investigated in the following decades.

Migration to New York put BAG alto saxophonist Luther Thomas into the orbit of Funk and No Wave musicians. But as this stripped down 1978 disc shows, following his own muse and eschewing heavy amplification prevented even underground fame. He followed his own idiosyncratic path until his death in 2009. Partnered only by flutist Luther C. Petty here, and with proverbial “little instruments” as back up, the five tracks seem to exist in a universe of their own, closer to the streetcorner than spectacle. The familiar first track, “Since I Lost My Baby (I Almost Lost My Mind)”is probably the most approachable. But almost as soon as the melody can be recognized the duo smash it apart with saxophone screams and overblowing and Petty’s strangled shrieks and burbles through the transverse instrument that reach slide whistle and fripple recorder textures. From that point on the affiliated tracks sometimes appear more like tone fishing than well-planned improvisations. With both players rattling, slapping and banging percussion instruments, variations judder atop primitive rhythms as they toss phrasing around. Thomas’ ability to gallop from higher-than-altissimo screams to hoarse renal honks keeps the interface constantly changing, Plus his stream-of-consciousness mumbles most prominent on “Charge and Discharge” threaten to dissolve into asylum chatter at points. Petty’s brief lyrical interludes and melodic inventions often preclude completely unhinged playing with his moments of toneless peeps and breaths. Infrequent harmonized episodes are somewhat resolved on “The Fire Just Kept On Burning”, the concluding track. Although a quieter mode of shaking reed split tones and bell-resonating percussion is attained during the final passages, the stops, scoops, overblowing and seemingly unhinged yells suggests that 11th Street Fire Suite was a work in progress. That there was never a later sonic resolution says as much about music industry conditions as unrealized promise.

In their own way both discs are fascinating. But while Carroll’s heralds further explorations, Thomas’ is only realized enough to suggest what could have been.

–Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Orange: 1. Orange Fish Tears 2. Forest Scorpion 3. Rue Roger 4. Porte D’ Orleans

Personnel: Orange: Baikida Carroll (trumpet, flugelhorn, percussion); Oliver Lake (soprano, alto and, tenor saxophones, flute, percussion); Manuel Villaroel (piano, electric piano, percussion); Naná Vasconcelos (cuica, tabla, timbales, percussion)

Track Listing: 11th: 1. Since I Lost My Baby (I Almost Lost My Mind) 2. 11th Street Fire 3. Charge and Discharge 4. Dormin (Methapyrilene Hydrochloride) 5. The Fire Just Kept On Burning

Personnel: 11th: Luther Thomas (alto saxophone, small instruments, recitation) and Luther C. Petty (flute, small instruments)