most people consider wayne shorter a coltrane disciple. and insofar as any saxophone player that has come into their own since trane can't help but be, he is. at the same time, however, he was a contemporary of coltrane's, and to label him as "merely" a disciple, is selling shorter far, far too short. wow. didn't even intend that pun. oh well. moving on...
wayne shorter took the lessons coltrane taught about emotion, soul, ferocity and intensity on albums like "giant steps", and raised the art to a new level by adding in a a healthy dose of very cerebral intent. "speak no evil" is the crowing achievment of that effort. his writing, and even more impressively his improvisation, is so careful and deliberate that it borders on the diabolical. from the jarring announcement in the first few bars of the first track, that then slips into a slow and easily weaving melodic groove, you know that this man has a plan but you can't ever allow yourself to believe you know what it is. every chord change, every turn in the melody, is a cleverly winking play on the conventions of the jazz establishment (if there ever really was such a thing).
'dance cadaverous' is one of the most haunting and effectivly evocative jazz tunes ever written. slow but never ploddingly so, and beautiful yet disonant at the same time. you want to love this song but you're not sure you should. the title track 'speak no evil' is easily shorter's most tongue in cheek composition. it starts off so deceptively simple, with the swinging drum line, the walking bass, and the bluesy melody that you almost forget what happened over the previous three tracks. and just when you're ready to believe that you're listening to something recorded in the late fifties instead of the mid-sixties, he hits you with this intense inverted rhythmic phrase at the end of the form that is played over very bizarre harmonic intervals. saying with not a hint of uncertainty in his musical voice:
"knock, knock.
i'm wayne shorter bitch."
much like coltrane i think he loses steam on the ballad here, 'infant eyes.' the writing is still sharp as ever, but shorter's playing seems labored and nearly disinterested. 'wild flowers' closes the album carefully. this track reminds you what you've been listening to without getting so scary that you don't want to come back in the future.
this album was the foot in the door to what would become, over the next few decades, experimental jazz. by the mid-eighties, players bored with trying to live up to the precedents set by people like miles and trane would look to this album as proof that they could bend the rules and still make good music. unfortunately, shorter had already done it, and these people ended up flooding the doorway he opened with about six feet of crap. shorter himself eventually fell victim to his own legacy. but that's neither here nor there. "speak no evil" was in its day, and remains today, a bold statement about orginality, and using intelligence and intent to amplify already powerfully soulful music.
wayne shorter took the lessons coltrane taught about emotion, soul, ferocity and intensity on albums like "giant steps", and raised the art to a new level by adding in a a healthy dose of very cerebral intent. "speak no evil" is the crowing achievment of that effort. his writing, and even more impressively his improvisation, is so careful and deliberate that it borders on the diabolical. from the jarring announcement in the first few bars of the first track, that then slips into a slow and easily weaving melodic groove, you know that this man has a plan but you can't ever allow yourself to believe you know what it is. every chord change, every turn in the melody, is a cleverly winking play on the conventions of the jazz establishment (if there ever really was such a thing).
'dance cadaverous' is one of the most haunting and effectivly evocative jazz tunes ever written. slow but never ploddingly so, and beautiful yet disonant at the same time. you want to love this song but you're not sure you should. the title track 'speak no evil' is easily shorter's most tongue in cheek composition. it starts off so deceptively simple, with the swinging drum line, the walking bass, and the bluesy melody that you almost forget what happened over the previous three tracks. and just when you're ready to believe that you're listening to something recorded in the late fifties instead of the mid-sixties, he hits you with this intense inverted rhythmic phrase at the end of the form that is played over very bizarre harmonic intervals. saying with not a hint of uncertainty in his musical voice:
"knock, knock.
i'm wayne shorter bitch."
much like coltrane i think he loses steam on the ballad here, 'infant eyes.' the writing is still sharp as ever, but shorter's playing seems labored and nearly disinterested. 'wild flowers' closes the album carefully. this track reminds you what you've been listening to without getting so scary that you don't want to come back in the future.
this album was the foot in the door to what would become, over the next few decades, experimental jazz. by the mid-eighties, players bored with trying to live up to the precedents set by people like miles and trane would look to this album as proof that they could bend the rules and still make good music. unfortunately, shorter had already done it, and these people ended up flooding the doorway he opened with about six feet of crap. shorter himself eventually fell victim to his own legacy. but that's neither here nor there. "speak no evil" was in its day, and remains today, a bold statement about orginality, and using intelligence and intent to amplify already powerfully soulful music.