Our last two posts focused on Max Roach and Charles Mingus, who (along with Mingus’ wife Celia) founded the short-lived Debut Records, designed to bypass the commercialism of major labels. Both musicians had played with the great Duke Ellington, though Mingus’ stint lasted a mere four days before being fired for – you guessed it – fighting.
The trio reunited for the United Artists session Money Jungle (1963), an historic meeting of perhaps the most celebrated stars of their respective instruments. The 63-year-old Ellington proves that he can swing and strut as freely as his younger counterparts, on seven of his own compositions, for each of which he’d describe a picture for the musicians to play along to.
Where Ellington’s collaboration with John Coltrane (recorded nine days later for Impulse!) feels like two old friends enjoying each other’s company, Money Jungle sounds fraught with tension. Mingus walked out of the studio at one point, out of frustration with either Roach’s playing or the sidelining of his own compositions, depending on reports. Either way, Ellington’s son Mercer said the contract included a follow-up album that was never fulfilled.
Nowhere is this tension more apparent than on the title track, an abrasive post-bop workout that sounds like a fight between Mingus’ violent bass, Roach’s progressive drumming and Ellington’s hammering piano. Roach recalls the image Ellington described for this track: “Think of a city like New York, and all the skyscrapers are tree trunks, but they are barely visible because of all the money flowing down the sides of the buildings like foliage. That’s the money jungle. And crawling around on the streets are serpents who have their heads up; these are agents and people who have exploited artists. Play that along with the music.”
This push-and-pull between three different musical styles was criticised by some but really makes the record sound urgent and unique. The sense of individual expression in an intimate group setting is what makes this “one of the greatest piano trio recordings in jazz history,” as it’s described by George Wein’s liner notes. Later reissued on Blue Note, it’s a document of powerhouse musicians pushing each other, galvanised by shared contempt for the music industry.
Head on over to our ‘Kings Of The Keys’ playlist for more powerful piano.
If you enjoyed this post and want to stay updated, make sure to subscribe to our Spotify playlist and follow us on Instagram and Twitter!
