Fred Anderson
Two Live Albums, Released 23 Years Apart
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Tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson was born March 22, 1929 (three days before Cecil Taylor). He spent his early childhood in Monroe, Louisiana, but his parents separated when he was ten and he moved to Evanston, Illinois with his mother. He began playing as a teenager, inspired by Charlie Parker, Lester Young, and others, but rather than join bands and participate in jam sessions, he focused on solo practice, private lessons, and conservatory study. This may be the reason his language on the horn was as highly developed and instantly recognizable as it was. Anderson is one of those players you can pick out in about five seconds. He never sounds like he’s imitating anyone. His solos have a brooding, regal quality, often lingering in the tenor’s lower register but rarely going all the way down for the bull-elephant roars of David S. Ware or Pharoah Sanders. Instead, he plays long winding lines that resolve just inconclusively enough to keep you in suspense, waiting for the next one.
I saw Anderson perform at least twice at the Vision Festival in New York, but he spent most of his life in Chicago. He was an early member of the AACM, and played on Art Ensemble of Chicago saxophonist Joseph Jarman’s albums As If It Were The Seasons and Song For. When many AACM members headed for Europe in 1969, though, Anderson stayed behind, working and supporting his family. He opened a bar in 1977 called the Birdhouse, which closed after a year; four years after that, he took over a different spot, the Velvet Lounge, which became a crucial hub for avant-garde jazz performances in the city, hosting Sunday jam sessions that allowed the scene to develop. In 2002, I traveled to Chicago to interview the band Disturbed for a magazine, and on my first night there I made a point to visit the Velvet Lounge, shake Fred Anderson’s hand (and Chad Taylor’s, who was sitting at the bar), and buy a CD — The Missing Link, a 1979 session released in 1984 on Nessa — and a T-shirt.
I’ve heard almost 20 Anderson albums, going back to the end of the 1970s. Some of my favorites are Fred Anderson/DKV Trio, on which he’s joined by saxophonist Ken Vandermark, bassist Kent Kessler, and drummer Hamid Drake; 2 Days in April, a titanic live 2CD set featuring saxophonist Kidd Jordan, bassist William Parker, and Drake; From the River to the Ocean, a studio session featuring guitarist Jeff Parker, bassist Josh Abrams, Harrison Bankhead on piano, cello and bass, and Drake; and Dark Day/Live in Verona, another live 2CD set with trumpeter Billy Brimfield, bassist Steven Palmore, and Drake on drums and tabla.
The Milwaukee Tapes, Vol. 1 was released in 2000 as part of producer John Corbett’s Unheard Music Series, an incredible collection of rare, out-of-print, and sometimes previously unreleased music by some genuine legends of avant-garde jazz, from Peter Brötzmann to Joe McPhee to the Globe Unity Orchestra to Sun Ra. These albums arrived at the perfect time to serve as an introduction to out jazz and experimental music for adventurous indie rock-minded listeners, and they did a lot to put McPhee and Brötzmann in particular back on the cultural map. The Anderson disc featured Brimfield, Drake, and bassist Larry Hayrod playing five tracks in roughly 70 minutes at an unspecified venue in January and February 1980, and was a perfect encapsulation of Anderson’s best qualities.
His compositions frequently featured mournful, even keening melodies, laid over Drake’s supple, unceasing groove. The drummer sat in a spot of his own making, somewhere between the New Orleans shuffles of Ed Blackwell and the trance-like repetition of reggae and Indian music. He could keep a piece going as long as Anderson wanted it to, and given the saxophonist’s interest in exploring all the possible ramifications of a particular blues riff, and his repeated invocation of a few trademark lines, that could be a while. There are plenty of Anderson discs with tracks running between 20 and 30 minutes, but it never feels aimless or boring, because Drake keeps the train on the track.
I never listened to The Milwaukee Tapes, Vol. 1 as much as some of the other Anderson discs I mentioned above, though, mostly because of that title. I have a real bias against records that are released as “Vol. 1” and then “Vol. 2” just…never shows up. But now, more than 20 years later, there’s finally a second volume! And listening to both of them back to back, they’re fantastic.
The Milwaukee Tapes, Vol. 2 was recorded at the exact same January and February 1980 gigs as the first set. The venue remains unidentified. The sound is slightly softer and warmer, no doubt due to the difference in mastering styles between 2000 and 2023. But it’s the exact same band, playing the same type of slow-burning, bluesy and yet trancelike free jazz.
Here’s the thing you need to know about Fred Anderson, if you’re not already familiar with his music: Fred Anderson has a few stock riffs — more than two but probably fewer than five — that he returns to again and again. They show up in his solos and in some of his compositions over and over. If you are expecting a saxophonist to be on a constant quest to play something new, to approach the horn in a totally unprecedented and challenging (to himself and the audience) way, you may not like Anderson’s music. Now, I don’t mean he’s a by-the-numbers blues player, or someone who just riffs. He journeys quite far afield, allowing Drake’s endless waves of groove to take him out way past the buoys and then carry him back again. But he definitely has a collection of licks that are a major component of his “voice.” And they are very much present on both volumes of The Milwaukee Tapes.
But the compositions are strong and tuneful, everybody’s locked-in, and the whole thing has the low-stakes, high-reward feel of walking into a club cold and being blown away by a band just cooking. My one concern is that The Milwaukee Tapes, Vol. 1 is now out of print in physical form. I hope Corbett vs. Dempsey, which is responsible for finally shepherding Vol. 2 into the world, finds a way to reissue the one that started it all.
The digital version of The Milwaukee Tapes, Vol. 2 is available on Bandcamp, and physical copies can be had via Dusty Groove. Do it.
Before I go: Burning Ambulance Music has eight amazing CDs available, covering a wide stylistic range; a friend of the label recently said, “It’s got some stylistic diversity, with jazz, metal, and avant-garde represented, and some other albums I don’t even know how to sort into genres. Every one I’ve heard is excellent.” And I’m selling our CDs at a discount through this newsletter. If a CD is $13 on our Bandcamp page, you can get it here for $11; if it’s $15 there, you can get it here for $13, plus shipping. Just email me and tell me which ones you want, and I’ll quote you a price. Thanks!
That’s it for now. See you next week!
Nice Fred Anderson reflection. I remember many nights leaning on the bar at 2128 ½ South Indiana Ave at his club, the Velvet Lounge, which he owned until he passed away in 2010. We miss you.