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      Linda Sharrock Has Lost Her Speech, but She’s Still Performing

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      Linda Sharrock, an avant-garde jazz musician who became aphasic after a 2009 stroke, has returned to the stage and inspired new generations.Last April, the Vienna-based avant-garde jazz vocalist Linda Sharrock gave her first New York performance in over 40 years: a sold-out concert at BAM’s Howard Gilman Opera House, as part of a series curated by Solange. Appearing between the poet Claudia Rankine and the saxophonist Archie Shepp, Sharrock guided eight musicians through a fully improvised set while she howled powerfully over the cacophonous squall of free jazz in a declamatory style that evoked the evening’s program title, “The Cry of My People.”It wasn’t until after she’d received multiple standing ovations that most of the audience realized the 76-year-old singer wasn’t able to speak: Sharrock became aphasic after a 2009 stroke that paralyzed her right side; she now uses a wheelchair. A few weeks later at the Cambridge, Mass., home of the pianist Eric Zinman, who plays in her group the Linda Sharrock Network, Sharrock was unable to verbalize much more than “yeah,” “no,” “OK” and “I don’t know.”Despite her limited dialogical abilities, Sharrock was cheerful, charming and quick to laughter. Much of the talking was done by her caregiver — Mario Rechtern, an 81-year-old Austrian free jazz saxophonist who has, by his account, overseen her personal affairs and daily activities for the last 20 years. He not only plays in her band, he helps her dress, feeds her if necessary and carries her down the stairs.“This work with Linda is consuming,” Rechtern said, tugging at his woolly gray beard, “and at the same time, I cannot give in to the consuming, because when I give in, she’s lost. So it’s challenging.”Sharrock’s return to the stage — a manifestation of her stubborn refusal to be silenced — is one of the most stirring comeback stories in recent memory. Over a career stretching six decades, Sharrock has been a resolutely singular figure; almost no peers share her uniquely unorthodox vocal delivery. Too “out” for jazz’s in-crowd, she was relegated to relative obscurity. Yet her commitment to challenging her audience has ultimately made her a role model for experimental vocalists and Black female performers, providing a beacon of tantalizing possibilities.The poet and vocalist Camae Ayewa, who performs as Moor Mother, recalled hearing Sharrock’s music for the first time and “losing my mind,” she said in an interview. “I wrote a little poem about this because it was such urgency on my part to be like, ‘What is going on here? This is where I want to go! This is what I want to sound like!’ I hadn’t heard anyone before that had inspired me this way besides Betty Carter. I just started to be obsessed about it.”Sharrock’s vocal exclamations have become deeper and more guttural moans than the high-pitched shrieks of her early work with her then-husband, the musician Sonny Sharrock. In the late 1960s, Sonny revolutionized jazz guitar through volume, distortion and feedback while playing with Pharoah Sanders, Don Cherry, Wayne Shorter and Miles Davis. Linda’s approach was no less radical: On three albums of collaborations with Sonny, beginning with their remarkable 1969 debut “Black Woman,” her wordless exhortations included psychedelic sighs, orgasmic yodels and blood-chilling screams, all delivered with an intensity that made “Plastic Ono Band”-era Yoko Ono sound like Anne Murray in comparison.“I’ve never listened to any kind of a female jazz singer for any kind of inspiration or anything like that,” Sharrock said in a 1973 WKCR radio interview. “I was influenced by horn players,” she explained, citing incendiary saxophonists like Sanders and Albert Ayler.“The thing that killed me about her singing was that she was, if not the first, one of the few jazz singers who improvise,” Sonny said in the same WKCR conversation. “That’s one of the reasons she doesn’t use words: because it hinders your improvisation.”Sharrock was born Linda Chambers in Philadelphia, and lived with her grandmother and her younger brother, Pablo, in the working class Germantown neighborhood, according to Jacquelyn Bullock, a longtime friend and former neighbor. In an interview, she said that despite Sharrock’s confrontational vocal approach, offstage “she was quiet and demure,” with an interest in fashion and a distinctive sense of style. “She’s a gracious woman. Like most women, she likes nice things, and she has a great sense of humor.”Sharrock moved to New York after graduating from high school in 1965 with the intention to study painting, but soon became immersed in the Lower East Side’s jazz scene, where her inaugural professional gig was singing with Sanders. When she first began performing, she shaved off her eyebrows and kept her hair close-cropped, she told The New York Times Magazine in 1975. “It was the strangest look I could conceive of,” she said. “My life had taken such a drastic change, I wanted to present it physically.”She met Sonny through Sanders, and they married in 1967. Earnings for most free jazz musicians were lean, but that year, Sonny got the opportunity to work with the commercially successful jazz-funk flutist Herbie Mann, and spent most of the next seven years playing in his group. Linda went on tour with them and eventually joined the band, usually performing two of the couple’s compositions each night, “Black Woman” and “Portrait of Linda in Three Colors, All Black.”The Sharrocks lived in an apartment at 77 East 3rd Street in the East Village; the pianist Dave Burrell was a neighbor and hosted rehearsals for the 1969 “Black Woman” album in his tiny living room. Burrell recalled in an interview that hearing Sharrock sing for the first time, “I felt a bolt of excitement,” he said. “I thought of her as a vocalist who could throw herself into the ‘Black is beautiful’ moment and movement, and that made her one of the boys, so having her around was cool.”Another “Black Woman” musician, the trumpeter Ted Daniel, was a childhood friend of Sonny’s from Ossining, N.Y. “She was one of a kind,” Daniel said in an interview. “I haven’t heard anybody sing with the raw passion and just that kind of freedom that she approached in her singing with Sonny in that band.”Released on the Vortex subsidiary of Atlantic Records, the trailblazing “Black Woman” failed to find a larger audience. A few years later, the couple put together the Savages, a working band that could play out regularly. The group included steel drums and Latin percussion and gigged at downtown venues like the Tin Palace and lofts like Studio Rivbea, said Abe Speller, the band’s drummer. The Savages recorded a soundtrack to Sedat Pakay’s 1973 short documentary “James Baldwin: From Another Place” and performed a live set in 1974 on WKCR, which are the only surviving souvenirs of their existence. Speller recalled the band holing up to rehearse before entering a studio in December 1977 to record a four-song demo tape, but the group failed to score a label deal and eventually fizzled out.After Linda and Sonny divorced, she moved to Turkey and then Vienna, where she met her second husband, the Austrian saxophonist Wolfgang Puschnig, a few years later. (Sonny died in 1994 at 53.) Initially they were just musical collaborators, Puschnig said in a video call from his home in southern Austria, but a relationship blossomed and they were married in 1987 while in Mozambique for a gig.Under their own names and in groups like the Pat Brothers, AM4 and Red Sun, Puschnig and Sharrock recorded more than 20 albums together on European and South Korean labels from 1986 to 2007, but her vocal approach had changed markedly. Puschnig said that she moved away from singing in her free style after consulting a former Ziegfeld girl turned palm reader, who told her, “I see you’re a singer, but you don’t use words, but you should because you have a talent to use words.”“So that’s how she started to do lyrics,” he said.The jazz fusion bassist Jamaaladeen Tacuma performed with them for years, and produced “On Holiday,” Sharrock’s 1990 album of Billie Holiday covers, complete with new jack swing beats and a rapper. “She was pushing the ball,” Tacuma said in an interview, “thinking outside of the box, in terms of music, creativity, and improvisation, and trying to bring something about musically with her voice that had not been done before.”Puschnig said Sharrock’s health started to deteriorate in the mid-1990s, and though their romantic relationship ended around 1996, they continued working together as late as 2007. Around 2004, Rechtern — who had first met Sharrock in 1979 — began caring for her, and was granted power of attorney in 2007. “She was really falling into the nothingness,” Rechtern said. “If I wouldn’t have taken her she would be in a home.”During surgery for an intestinal blockage in 2009, Sharrock suffered her stroke, and spent the following two years in and out of the hospital. In 2012 she was visited in Austria by the jazz bassist Henry Grimes. “She was sitting on the couch while he played,” Rechtern recalled, “and I heard her very softly singing into the music.”Intrigued, Rechtern began gradually coaxing Sharrock to perform again. “She started to develop first this growl sound, this cry, because she couldn’t articulate,” he said. “Out of the blues and this typical sound, she found this explosion.”Beginning with “No Is No” in 2014, Sharrock has released five recordings in Europe since her stroke. Her recent music is more in the spirit of the free jazz she made with Sonny than her somewhat more conventional work with Puschnig, though her vocal range is understandably not the same.Sharrock responded affirmatively when asked if she had needed to sing and perform again, and when asked if she felt better while onstage, she cracked up laughing.“This music is healing for her,” Rechtern replied. “There’s no doubt.”Sharrock’s work and perseverance has inspired a new generation of artists. “So much of it doesn’t have lyrics,” Taja Cheek, who performs as L’Rain, said in an interview, “and isn’t easy to understand in a certain kind of way, but I understood it, and I felt it so viscerally when I first heard her that it got very emotional for me.”On a recent re-listen of “Black Woman,” Cheek said, “it sort of hit me like a ton of bricks that ‘Oh, Linda Sharrock is the lineage I might be a part of.’ I am able to do what I’m doing, and it can be met with a little bit of understanding, because Linda has already done something like this.”Sharrock’s resiliency has resonated with her old colleagues, as well. “It is very telling about the heart of a performing artist wanting to be able to do that until it’s completely impossible,” Burrell said, “another further dimension of the determination that she still has, no matter what the circumstances. I’m very proud of her.” More

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      ‘Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve Got’ Review: A Lens on a Jazz Luminary

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      Brigitte Berman’s dazzling 1985 look at the self-taught virtuoso clarinetist and bandleader is showing after a restoration.The documentarian Brigitte Berman has made two spectacular pictures about American jazz pioneers. The first, “Bix: ‘Ain’t None of Them Play Like Him Yet’” (1981), chronicled the life of the brilliant and tragically short-lived cornetist and composer Bix Beiderbecke. It screened in a restoration at Film Forum a couple of years back. Now, her follow-up to that movie, “Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve Got” (1985), is similarly restored and booked at Film Forum.Shaw, the clarinetist and bandleader, was a devotee of Beiderbecke, and is interviewed in Berman’s Beiderbecke film. When Shaw walked away from music for a first time, early in what would be a lengthy but nevertheless self-truncated jazz career, he tried to write a novel about Bix. He couldn’t complete it, he says here, because the story had “depth and connotation that I wasn’t philosophically or mentally prepared to cope with.”Shaw was not only a self-taught virtuoso but also often the smartest guy in any room he was in. When he came back to the bandstand, his recording of Cole Porter’s “Begin the Beguine” was a smash hit of the swing era. An unselfconscious civil rights pioneer, he hired the Black singer Billie Holiday to sing with him at a time when that just wasn’t done.Charming as well as erudite, he married eight times, to Lana Turner and Ava Gardner among others. The marriages didn’t last because of his cantankerousness. The fame he avidly sought in his early years — “like any other American kid, I wanted more of everything,” he notes — eventually struck him as inane and repellent. An all-star roster of interviewees, including the luminaries Mel Tormé and Buddy Rich, contributes to an unfailingly entertaining saga. The movie on its first release did so well — it won an Oscar — that it prompted the ever-unsatisfied Shaw to sue for a bigger share of the picture’s profits.Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve GotNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 54 minutes. In theaters. More

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      5 Minutes That Will Make You Love Strata-East Records

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      This label founded in 1971 gave Afrocentric and psychedelic jazz a home, and found a breakout hit with Gil Scott-Heron and Brian Jackson. Take a guided tour through its deep catalog.We’ve been asking writers, musicians and scholars to tell us what songs they’d play to get people into jazz. This month, we decided to highlight a record label: Strata-East Records, founded in 1971 by the trumpeter Charles Tolliver and the pianist Stanley Cowell.An artist-driven label, Strata-East became a hub for the type of Afrocentric and psychedelic jazz that wasn’t accepted by the wider mainstream. With projects like Tolliver’s own Music Inc., alongside experimental acts like Brother Ah, the Descendants of Mike and Phoebe, and Jayne Cortez, the albums released on Strata-East spoke to the Civil Rights struggles of Black Americans at the time. In 1974, the label enjoyed a breakout hit with “Winter in America,” a collaborative album from Gil Scott-Heron and Brian Jackson powered by the lead single “The Bottle.” But while that’s the most notable album in the catalog, Strata-East is full of excellent records that are widely celebrated, if not always easy to hear; original copies of some trade hands for hundreds of dollars, and none of the selections below are available on Spotify. The lack of a streaming playlist just makes this guided tour of the label from 10 writers and musicians more essential.As you’ll see (and hear) below, Strata-East released some of the best jazz heard on any label, and shouldn’t be discounted because it wasn’t one of the majors. More than 50 years on, the work of Strata-East prevails. Be sure to leave your own favorites in the comments.◆ ◆ ◆Nabil Ayers, author and record executive“Alkebu-Lan” by Mtume Umoja EnsembleThe second LP of the 1972 Mtume Umoja Ensemble album, “Alkebu-Lan,” opens with an epic 16-minute journey into its title, which translates to “Land of the Blacks.” Over a patient backdrop of horns, voices and Stanley Cowell’s piano, James Mtume emphatically states the ensemble’s goals: Organizing and unifying! Unifying and organizing! Going back, back, back … to Africa!As “Alkebu-Lan” builds, horns blast, cymbals crash, voices shout, and at times, everything hits the tape just a bit too hard. But the resulting distortion is where the energy lives on this album recorded live at The East, gaining momentum, until 12 minutes in, when a restless chorus of saxophones devolves into Ndugu Chancler’s drum solo. The excitement in the room is palpable, and the collision of celebration and conviction causes the band and the audience — it’s sometimes hard to differentiate between the two — to sound like they might mutually erupt.Some might consider this music challenging or niche, but it’s actually a distant and seminal precursor to some of the most popular music of a generation: Ten years later, its drummer played the first sounds we hear on Michael Jackson’s megahit “Billie Jean.” I like to think that Chancler brought some of the energy with him from that night at The East.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆MidnightRoba, vocalist and producer“On the Nile” by Music Inc.The Strata-East label’s debut recording, Music Inc., features the co-founders Charles Tolliver and Stanley Cowell with Cecil McBee, Jimmy Hopps and a supporting orchestra of brass, reeds and flutes. Although initially recorded by Tolliver’s quartet on Polydor’s “The Ringer,” the Strata-East version of “On the Nile” is the ultimate contemporary sonic celebration of the grandeur of ancient Nubia. Brass opens, drawing us in, in sequence, to bear witness; the flutes are the heka, or magic and mysticism of ancient Egypt; Cowell’s piano is at times a firm salute to the power of the ancient civilization and at others reflective of the deity-worshiping arched harp. Tolliver’s own solo is the falcon, Horus, the spirit of the Nile itself; McBee’s bass solo, the milk and honey of the land. This recording is a truly visual sonic experience. A sensorial and transportive joy.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Alisa L. Brock, writer“First Impressions” by Shamek FarrahSteady bass in the intro, then the keys take the lead, sticks make their way swiftly behind, and the horn drags in like a somber cry. What is a first impression, if not rhythms meeting with a willingness to be heard and felt? It’s almost impossible not to feel Shamek Farrah’s “First Impressions.” It’s the kind of sound that pulls you in, and invites you on a beautiful and exciting ride with the unfamiliar.It’s effortless to soak in the comfort of the bass strings that play the bottom. The consistency grounds me as the introduction of each instrument pulls us deeper into this encounter with sacred noise. Feel it. Let it make its way through you. Get well acquainted with the shifts in mood that offer up a demonstration of the impermanence of everything and the joy of difference. Surrender to the sounds of a first impression. It’s a vibe.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Jeff Parker, guitarist, composer and producer“Hopscotch” by Charles RouseBack in 2001, Tortoise was performing at one of the early iterations of the Detroit Electronic Music Festival. The festival was packed with folks — supposedly about a million people were in attendance throughout the course of the weekend. We were hanging after our show and I heard this insane music come over the gigantic P.A.: a hypnotic groove with an angular melody atop, and unconventional instrumentation of tenor saxophone, electric guitar, acoustic bass and drums. Someone made their way to the D.J. booth and found out that the track was “Hopscotch” by Charles (a.k.a. Charlie) Rouse from his album “Two Is One” on Strata-East Records. Serendipity found me in Peoples Records the following day, and lo and behold, there the album was in the jazz bins (the only time I’ve ever seen it in the wild). I discovered that the composition was written by one of my favorites — the drummer and composer Joe Chambers — and features Rouse on tenor, Paul Metzke on guitar, Stanley Clarke on bass, Airto Moreira on percussion, and the great New Orleans drummer David Lee. This album introduced me to Strata-East Records, and I’ve been performing this tune, following the label and collecting the records ever since.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Greg Bryant, musician and broadcaster“Wilpan’s” by Music Inc.Inspired by the saunter of a former love interest, the bassist Cecil McBee’s composition “Wilpan’s” spotlights the post-bop quartet Music Inc. live at the legendary New York City nightclub Slugs’ Saloon. As few recordings of the music made in Slugs’ survive, “Wilpan’s” provides essential documentation of an ethos and an era that has inspired subsequent generations of forward-thinking improvisers grounded in swing.From the beginning, McBee’s catchy ostinato bass figure ignites the ensemble immediately. The trumpeter Charles Tolliver takes the first solo and navigates McBee’s tune with the confidence and cunning of a prizefighter. Listen for that same zeal in the pianist Stanley Cowell’s improvisation that emphasizes the tune’s harmony alongside powerful right-hand declarations. Next, McBee takes a solo that is one of his most explosive on record. He taps into the vocabulary of a shredding guitarist at times, and somehow, he never overplays. After the band states the final melody, they ride the lock-step groove set by the drummer Jimmy Hopps and McBee. As the tune’s pinnacle, it is an infectious, bouncy swing that will make you want to get involved.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Cosmo Baker, D.J.“Prince of Peace” by Pharoah SandersWhen I was 16 years old, while going through a crate of used records in the back of an old pet-supply store in Philly, I pulled out a well-worn (well loved) copy of Pharoah Sanders’s “Izipho Zam (My Gifts)” — a copy I still own to this day, and my world was never the same.This record was my introduction to Pharoah, setting off a personal journey that is still going. It was an intro to many of his collaborators — Sonny Sharrock! Cecil McBee! Leon Thomas! Mostly it was an intro to both the Strata-East label and the philosophy, ethos and sound that it exemplifies: the intersection of spiritual jazz, Black consciousness and identity, avant-garde pioneering, among so many more intangibles, and that’s for both this album and Strata-East in general. As for Pharoah, the album is a glimpse into his soul-baring relinquishment to something larger than all of us. Written words don’t do this masterpiece any justice, but “Prince of Peace” is a universal mantra the world could use right now, and always.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆V.C.R, recording artist, violinist and composer“Winter in America” by Gil Scott-Heron and Brian JacksonGrowing up, gospel, classical, jazz and folk music was the soundtrack to my life. This soundtrack has shaped how I dissect, digest and compose music. But no seed that was sown grew stronger roots than when my mother introduced me to Gil Scott-Heron. She would always tell me stories about her time at Harvard during her undergraduate years where she would follow his work, hoping to catch one of his live shows. For a lover of poetry and jazz, you didn’t get any more authentic than Boston in the late ’70s.“Winter in America,” like all of Scott-Heron’s repertoire, was timely and prophetic. The lyrics describe the ice-cold state of the nation in 1974, eerily echoing the cold front we are experiencing presently. Over a haunting, repetitive piano riff in C minor, Gil preached, “We have been taken over by the season of ice. Very few people recognize it for what it is. Although they feel uncomfortable very few people recognize the fact that somehow the seasons don’t change.” (A live performance of the song was released on the CD version of the “Winter in America” album in 1998.)Right now people are still so overwhelmed by the reality of how dark the state of the world is. My favorite line of the song is when he sang, “The truth is there ain’t nobody fighting because, well, nobody knows what to save. Brother, save your soul.” That statement alone hits home for me as I look around wondering how can I truly make a difference. I wish I could share this song with everyone in this country, especially now. Thank God my mother shared Gil with me.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Richard Scheinin, music writer“Cry of Hunger!” by Billy HarperNo one composes like Billy Harper. His tunes are noble, soulful, and questing. This epic track — from his debut album, “Capra Black” — begins with a call to attention. Wake up! We are instantly spun into some mysterious dimension by the sextet, which seems to move in slow motion as Harper makes one of his patented, monolithic entrances on tenor saxophone. He moans. He ascends. You hear the blues. You hear the ecstatic power of the Black church. We are held in suspense; there are moments of literal silence that take your breath away. Then the chorus enters, singing one of Harper’s most memorable themes: “There’ll be e-nough some day!” Over and over. A soprano sings an ethereal line in counterpoint to Harper’s next solo. With each beseeching note, he imparts a message: of joy, sorrow, yearning, beauty. He is singing; he is praying. The band (featuring the likes of George Cables, Reggie Workman and Jimmy Owens) moves at a majestic lope, cycling back to the wake-up call before the chorus (which includes the great Gene McDaniels) returns for the finale. Taken in another direction, this song of hope might have been a hit for someone like Curtis Mayfield. I’ve been listening to it for 50 years and it still brings me to my knees.Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Angel Bat Dawid, musician“Baba Hengates” by Mtume Umoja EnsembleMtume’s “Alkebu-Lan” is my favorite Strata-East album. It’s hard to say which one song hits me with “Alkebu-Lan,” because it is in my opinion not an album to be compartmentalized in that way; it is a living, breathing creature, and one must commit to the sonic instructions of invocation to the end of this powerful incantation. But for reference purposes, the “Invocation” going into “Baba Hengates” resonates to my core. “Alkebu-Lan” is one of those holy grail albums I’m still searching for, waiting for my bank account to have the funds to afford an original, as most Strata-East O.G.s are pretty pricey. So if anyone out there wanna give a creative musician a present, holla at ya girl!Listen on YouTube◆ ◆ ◆Marcus J. Moore, jazz writer“Malika” by the Ensemble Al-SalaamOne day about 10 years ago, I was listening to the producer Madlib’s “Medicine Show #8: Advanced Jazz” when this piercing soprano came barreling through the speakers. I had just finished laughing at the album’s fake 1970s Blaxploitation film promo when the singer Beatrice Parker snapped me back into place. The song was “Malika” from the Ensemble Al-Salaam, a New York-based spiritual jazz septet who counted Bill Lee (a fellow Strata-East artist and the film director Spike Lee’s father) as inspiration. Between Parker’s rolling vocals and the band’s frenetic arrangement, “Malika” sounded like a car-chase scene in a crime saga. I liked free and spiritual jazz anyway, so I already had a palate for avant-garde music. But I’d never heard that. The song was something else, something I didn’t know I needed. To that end, I also give credit to Madlib for shaping my taste in jazz. I knew the classics, but albums like “Advanced Jazz” and “Shades of Blue” introduced me to psychedelic underground jazz, and labels like Strata-East Records.Listen on YouTube More

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      Les McCann, a Jazz Pianist and Singer, Dies at 88

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      He released more than 50 albums but had his greatest commercial success with “Compared to What,” a recording that came together at the last minute in 1969.Les McCann, a jazz pianist and vocalist who was an early progenitor of the bluesy, crowd-pleasing style that came to be known as soul jazz, and who, although he released more than 50 albums, was best known for a happenstance hit from 1969, died on Friday in Los Angeles. He was 88.His death, at a hospital where he had been admitted with pneumonia, was confirmed on Monday by Alan Abrahams, his longtime manager and a producer of several of his albums. Mr. McCann had lived for the past four years at a skilled nursing facility in the Van Nuys neighborhood of Los Angeles.Mr. McCann’s earthy, uplifting approach to music was a product of his upbringing in a churchgoing family. As he came to emphasize his singing more and play electric keyboards, his albums, released from 1960 to 2018, influenced funk and R&B artists and became a rich vein for hip-hop artists to mine.His greatest commercial success, though, came purely by chance, in June 1969 at the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland.Already a recording veteran by then, with albums on Pacific Jazz, Limelight and, most recently, Atlantic, Mr. McCann was appearing at the festival for the first time. After he and the tenor saxophonist Eddie Harris, also an Atlantic artist, played separate sets, they gave an unscheduled performance together, with Mr. Harris as well as the expatriate trumpeter Benny Bailey joining Mr. McCann’s trio.Neither had played with Mr. McCann before, and there was no time for rehearsal. But the performance was to be recorded and filmed for broadcast.Despite the pressure, or perhaps because of it, as Mr. McCann recalled in the liner notes for the 1996 CD reissue of the concert album, which was released in 1969 as “Swiss Movement,” “Just before we went onstage, and for the first time in my life, I smoked some hash.”When he got to the bandstand, he wrote, “I didn’t know where the hell I was. I was totally disoriented. The other guys said, ‘OK, play, man!’ Somehow I got myself together, and after that, everything just took off.”The highlight of the concert was Eugene McDaniels’s protest song “Compared to What.” Stretching past eight minutes and featuring Mr. McCann’s churchy vocals, “Compared to What” would be released as a single and peak at No. 35 on the Billboard R&B chart. “Swiss Movement” was nominated for a Grammy Award and went on to sell a half-million copies.Mr. McCann and Mr. Harris reconvened in 1971 for the Atlantic studio album “Second Movement.” They also returned to Montreux for the 1988 festival, where they performed an obligatory reprise of “Compared to What.”Leslie Coleman McCann was born on Sept. 23, 1935, in Lexington, Ky., to James and Anna McCann. His father was a water maintenance engineer.His family was a musical one; he, his four younger brothers and his sister all sang in the Shiloh Baptist Church choir. Mr. McCann began playing piano at age 3 and a few years later had a music teacher, who charged 35 cents a lesson. (Those lessons did not last long: She died only six weeks after he began studying with her.) While attending Dunbar High School in Lexington, he played drums and sousaphone in the marching band.He left Kentucky at 17 when he enlisted in the Navy and was posted to the San Francisco area.Les McCann performing at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1974. He had been performing in clubs in Los Angeles when he was first offered a record contract.Tom Copi/Michael Ochs Archive, via Getty ImagesDuring his time in the Navy, he sang on “The Ed Sullivan Show” after winning a talent contest. On his nights off, he would spend time at the Black Hawk, a San Francisco jazz nightclub.After leaving the Navy, Mr. McCann moved to Los Angeles, where he studied music and journalism at Los Angeles City College and hosted a Monday night jam session at the Hillcrest Club. It was during that time that he first connected with Mr. McDaniels.In a 2017 interview for the magazine Oxford American, Mr. McCann was asked about Mr. McDaniels’s composition “Compared to What.” “When I heard him,” he said, “I hired him in my band — one of the best singers I’ve ever heard. And I found out he was also a writer. We stayed in touch for years after that, and he would always send me songs. I can’t tell you how many songs he sent me, but that one stuck with me.”Mr. McCann was performing in Los Angeles clubs when a representative of Pacific Jazz Records heard him and asked if he had a record contract. When told no, the representative pulled one from his pocket and offered it to him.Mr. McCann recorded more than a dozen albums for the label from 1960 to 1964, usually leading a trio under the businesslike moniker Les McCann Ltd., but sometimes adding guest horns or orchestral accompaniment and sometimes collaborating with the guitarist Joe Pass. He also took part in Pacific Jazz sessions led by the saxophonist Teddy Edwards, the Jazz Crusaders and others. Les McCann Ltd. backed the singer Lou Rawls on his debut album, “Stormy Monday,” released by Capitol in 1962.Mr. McCann then moved to Limelight, a subsidiary of Mercury Records run by Quincy Jones, for which he made six albums from 1964 to 1966. He signed with Atlantic in 1968; on his first album for the label, “Much Les,” he was accompanied by a string section.He would make 11 albums for Atlantic. On two of them, “Invitation to Openness” (1971) and “Layers” (1972), he played a host of keyboards and synthesizers, an avenue he had been inspired to explore after hearing the keyboardist Joe Zawinul’s work with Miles Davis. Those albums have been cited as seminal in popularizing electric keyboards.Later in his Atlantic years, Mr. McCann was featured more as a singer in a slicker, more pop-oriented context. This continued through the 1970s and ’80s on albums for the Impulse!, A&M and Jam labels. But he also remained committed to the piano. In 1989, when he was a guest on the NPR show “Piano Jazz,“ hosted by his fellow pianist Marian McPartland, it was as both a singer and a player. The two closed the broadcast with a duet on “Compared to What.”Mr. McCann had returned to emphasizing his piano playing by 1994, when he released “On the Soul Side,” the first of three albums for the MusicMasters label, which reunited him with Eddie Harris and Lou Rawls. But a stroke later that year forced him to once again focus on singing, which he did through the end of the decade.He later recovered fully and resumed recording. He released albums on a German label in 2002 and on a Japanese label two years later. His last recording was the holiday-themed “A Time Les Christmas,” which he released himself in 2018.In December, Resonance Records released the archival album “Les McCann — Never a Dull Moment! Live From Coast to Coast (1966-1967),” comprising concert recordings from Seattle and New York.Information about his survivors was not immediately available.Mr. McCann’s music has been sampled by nearly 300 hip-hop artists, including Eric B. & Rakim, A Tribe Called Quest, Cypress Hill, Nas, De La Soul, Snoop Dogg, the Notorious B.I.G. and Sean Combs.Mr. McCann performing at the 40th Montreux Jazz Festival in 2006. He also painted and was a photographer.Martial Trezzini/European Pressphoto AgencyIn 1975, Mr. McCann became the first artist in residence at Harvard University’s Learning From Performers program. He was also a devoted painter and photographer of jazz culture and Black history, and his images have been included with some of his albums. His work was collected in 2015 in the book “Invitation to Openness: The Jazz & Soul Photography of Les McCann 1960-1980.”In an interview for the preface to that book, Mr. McCann was asked how he had achieved intimacy with his photographic subjects. He responded: “I trust my intuition, you see,” adding, “I’m better off when I just do what I do on the piano: play.”Rebecca Carballo More

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      Willie Ruff, Jazz Missionary and Professor, Dies at 92

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      A master of the French horn, a rarity in jazz, he toured the world with the pianist Dwike Mitchell and taught music at Yale.Willie Ruff, who fashioned an unlikely career in jazz as a French horn player and toured the world as a musical missionary in the acclaimed Mitchell-Ruff Duo while maintaining a parallel career at the Yale School of Music, died on Sunday at his home in Killen, Ala. He was 92.His death was confirmed by his niece Jennifer Green.Mr. Ruff, who was also a bassist, played both bass and French horn in the duo he formed with the pianist Dwike Mitchell in 1955, which lasted until Mr. Mitchell’s death in 2013. They opened for many jazz luminaries, including Duke Ellington, Miles Davis and Sarah Vaughan; played countless concerts in schools and colleges; and toured foreign countries where jazz was little known or even taboo.In 1959, they flouted edicts against music that the Soviet Union deemed bourgeois, performing an impromptu set in Moscow while on tour with the Yale Russian Chorus. Their concerts in China in 1981 were considered the first jazz performances there since the Cultural Revolution.A globe-trotting musical career, however, seemed a remote possibility when Mr. Ruff was growing up in a small Southern town during the Great Depression.Mr. Ruff, left, and Dwike Mitchell, right, in November 1959 with the classical pianists Lev Vlassenko, second from left, and Van Cliburn. Mr. Ruff and Mr. Mitchell met in the Army and in 1955 formed the Mitchell-Ruff Duo, which stayed together until Mr. Mitchell’s death in 2013.Associated PressHe was born on Sept. 1, 1931, in Sheffield, Ala., the sixth of eight children of Willie and Manie Ruff. “We lived in a house — my mother and eight children — that had no electricity, so there was no radio or music,” he said in a 2017 interview with Yale. “But there was always dancing, to silence. The dances made their own rhythm.”He eventually learned to pound out his own rhythms on piano and drums. At 14, he fudged his way into the Army, on the advice of an older cousin who had enlisted at 17 with his parents’ permission and dismissed Mr. Ruff’s concern that he was too young: “For a musician, you sure are dumb,” Mr. Ruff recalled the cousin saying. “Don’t you know how to write your daddy’s name?”He hoped to leverage his skill with the sticks into a spot in a highly regarded all-Black military band, but, seeing a glut of drummers, he took up the French horn instead. It was in that band that he met Mr. Mitchell, who taught him to play the stand-up bass.After leaving the Army, Mr. Ruff applied to the Yale School of Music, hoping to use his financial windfall from the G.I. Bill of Rights to study with the famed composer Paul Hindemith. “I brought my French horn and played an audition, and by some miracle they let me in,” he said in an interview with the quarterly newspaper The Soul of the American Actor. “So, Uncle Sam put me through my schooling!”He earned his bachelor’s degree in 1953 and his master’s degree a year later. In 1955, he was weighing an opportunity to join the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra when he turned on “The Ed Sullivan Show” and saw his old friend Mr. Mitchell at the piano, as a member of Lionel Hampton’s band. He called him at the television studio, and Mr. Mitchell soon recruited Mr. Ruff to play in the band.Playing an instrument associated with classical music in a jazz band was unconventional, but it opened doors for Mr. Ruff, as did the broad musical training he had received at Yale.“Lionel Hampton’s band was the worst-paying, hardest-working band in the world,” he recalled in an interview for Yale’s Oral History of American Music project. “So if a saxophone player quit, I played his part. If a trombone player quit, I played his part, and that would make me valuable because I could transpose all these parts.” With no parts written for the French horn itself, he said, Mr. Hampton “didn’t know what to expect”:“As long as it worked, I was left to invent. It was wonderful training.”From left, Charles Mingus, Duke Ellington and Mr. Ruff in 1972, the year Mr. Ruff founded the Ellington Fellowship program at Yale.Reggie Jackson/Yale University Art GalleryMr. Ruff joined the Yale faculty in 1971 and stayed until he retired in 2017. In 1972 he founded the Ellington Fellowship, which is dedicated to expanding the study of African American music and has honored a long list of jazz notables, some of whom performed concerts in New Haven, Conn., and shared their musical knowledge with hundreds of thousands of local public school students.His immediate survivors include a brother, Nathaniel. His wife, Emma, and daughter, Michelle, died before him.Late in his life, Mr. Ruff recalled that his turn to education seemed almost predestined. When he was in second grade, W.C. Handy, the composer and musician known as “the father of the blues,” who was from nearby Florence, Ala., visited his class. He played trumpet for the students and talked to them about “how important it was to continue our education and hold up our heritage and our culture,” Mr. Ruff told Yale in 2017. “He said that it’s not from royalty or from the highborn that music comes, but it is often from those who are the farthest down in society.”“After he finished,” Mr. Ruff added, “all the children who were musically inclined were permitted to shake the hand of the man who wrote ‘The Saint Louis Blues.’”“I was never the same boy again,” he recalled. “I had to be a teacher.” More

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      Zita Carno, Concert Pianist, Coltrane Scholar and More, Dies at 88

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      A veteran of 25 years with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, she was known as much for her eccentricities as for her exceptional musicianship.Zita Carno in 1960 with the composer Wallingford Riegger. The critic Harold C. Schonberg called her the “perfect interpreter” of Mr. Riegger’s technically difficult “Variations for Piano and Orchestra.”Whitestone PhotoWhen the Bronx-bred pianist Zita Carno auditioned for the Los Angeles Philharmonic in 1975, she played short excerpts from the orchestra’s repertoire for the music director, Zubin Mehta.“Then Mehta said, ‘Come back tomorrow. I want to hear you play the Boulez,’” she recalled years later, referring to the French conductor and composer Pierre Boulez.“Well, I said, ‘I eat that stuff for breakfast,’ which made him laugh.”Ms. Carno was hired and spent the next 25 years as the orchestra’s pianist, capping a career as a widely praised classical keyboardist (she also played the harpsichord and organ) who was also an expert on the music of the innovative jazz saxophonist John Coltrane.Ms. Carno died on Dec. 7 in an assisted living facility in Tampa, Fla. She was 88.Her cousin Susanna Briselli said the cause was heart failure. Ms. Carno had moved to Tampa with her mother after her retirement from the Philharmonic to be near the spring training facility of the Yankees, her favorite baseball team.Ms. Carno was known as much for her eccentricities as for her musicianship.Esa-Pekka Salonen, the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s music director from 1992 to 2009, said in a phone interview that Ms. Carno “had an extraordinary capacity as a musician,” adding, “She could read basically everything — not only Mozart, Beethoven and Brahms but pieces by Hindemith and Richard Strauss, with all sorts of complex transpositions, and play them in real time and in tempo.”Mr. Salonen said that Ms. Carno’s talents transcended sight-reading piano pieces and extended to calculating a full orchestral score in her head. “She had a particular kind of C.P.U. that could process a lot of information in real time,” he said. “She had that kind of unusual brain.”She also frequently used the phrase “Yoohoo, bubeleh!” — “bubeleh” is Yiddish for “sweetheart” — as a greeting in her booming voice.“Those words came out of her with startling regularity,” David Howard, a former clarinetist with the Philharmonic, said by phone. The two collaborated on an album, “Capriccio: Mid-Century Music for Clarinet,” released in 1994.During a rehearsal when Mr. Boulez was conducting the orchestra, Mr. Howard recalled, “He asked Zita to play something a little bit softer and she said, ‘Sure, bubeleh!’“Boulez was as serious and solemn a music figure as ever lived,” he added. “We had to grit our teeth to keep from laughing.”She also used the words “yoohoo” and “bubeleh” in musical scores, To Ms. Carno, “yoohoo” denoted a duplet (a group of two notes), and “bubeleh” was her word for a triplet (a group of three).Joanne Pearce Martin, Ms. Carno’s successor at the Philharmonic, wrote on Facebook after Ms. Carno’s death that she “never erased a single mark of Zita’s in any of the LA Phil keyboard parts. Seeing those ‘Bubulas’ and ‘Yoohoos’ peppered throughout the parts brings a special smile to my face — how could it not?”Ms. Carno, right, performed in an elimination round of the Leventritt Competition, a prestigious international contest for pianists and violinists, in 1959. To her left was Harriet Wingreen. Sam Falk/The New York TimesZita Carnovsky was born on April 15, 1935, in Manhattan and grew up in the Bronx. Her father, Daniel, who immigrated from Poland, was a pharmacist. Her mother, Lucia (Briselli) Carno, who was born in Odessa, Russia, was a homemaker whose piano playing Zita began to imitate when she was quite young — anywhere from 2½ to 4 years old, depending on the account.From ages 4 to 6, Zita traveled with her parents to Philadelphia, where she played duets with her uncle, Iso Briselli, a violin virtuoso, who also coached her, Ms. Briselli, his daughter, said in a phone interview. At 10, she finished writing her first fugue.She graduated from the High School of Music and Art (now the Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts) in New York and, in 1952, received honorable mention for a piece she wrote for violin and piano in a composition contest conducted by the New York Philharmonic’s Young People’s Concerts.She attended the Manhattan School of Music, where she earned her bachelor’s degree in 1956 and her master’s the next year.When she made her debut at Town Hall in Manhattan in 1959, the New York Times critic Harold C. Schonberg wrote that she was “without a doubt one of the major young American talents, with splendid technical equipment, brains and finesse.”In October 1960, she was the soloist in a program of Romantic music during four concerts with the New York Philharmonic, with Leonard Bernstein conducting. Mr. Schoenberg called her the “perfect interpreter” of Wallingford Riegger’s technically difficult “Variations for Piano and Orchestra.”In the 1960s, she was a member of the Pro Arte Symphony Orchestra of Hofstra University and the Orchestra da Camera, both on Long Island. She was also in demand for recitals and concerts around the United States. She joined the New Jersey Symphony in the early 1970s and stayed until she left for the Los Angeles Philharmonic.She was also intrigued by jazz. (“She was always interested in cutting-edge music,” Ms. Briselli said.) In 1959, she wrote a two-part article about John Coltrane in The Jazz Review. Explaining his technique, she wrote, “Tempos don’t faze him in the least; his control enables him to handle a very slow ballad without having to resort to the double-timing so common among hard blowers, and for him, there is no such thing as too fast a tempo.”Ms. Carno, who was introduced to Coltrane by the bassist Art Davis, was able to transcribe his solos while listening to him perform.“I used to go equipped with music paper and a few well-sharpened pencils and I would take them down during the performances, which amused Trane no end,” she told Lewis Porter, the author of “John Coltrane: His Life and Legend” (1998).She wrote the liner notes to “Coltrane Jazz,” Coltrane’s second album for the Atlantic label, which was released in 1961.No immediate family members survive.In addition to her musical pursuits, Ms. Carno was an amateur baseball scholar. She wrote articles for the Society for American Baseball Research (about the pitcher Eddie Lopat) and the Baseball Research Journal (about pitchers who were notoriously tough on certain teams).She was also a science fiction fan and frequently commented online about the “Star Trek” television series and films.In a post on the science fiction author Christopher L. Bennett’s website in 2018, she said that she had been researching the Vulcan mind-meld and the half-Vulcan Mr. Spock’s advanced telepathic abilities. “As a result,” she wrote, “I have gained a whole new appreciation of the power of the mind — ‘wuh tepul t’wuh kashek’ in Vulcan — and how Spock was able to use it, especially when it came to getting himself, Captain (later Admiral) Kirk and the great starship Enterprise out of one jam after another.” More

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      Carlos Lyra, Composer Who Brought Finesse to Bossa Nova, Dies at 90

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      When Brazilian musicians fused samba with jazz and classical influences in the 1950s and ’60s, he was among the first, and the best.Carlos Lyra, a Brazilian composer, singer and guitarist whose cool, meticulous melodies helped give structure and power to bossa nova, the samba-inflected jazz style that became a worldwide phenomenon in the early 1960s, died on Dec. 16 in Rio de Janeiro. He was 90.His daughter, the singer Kay Lyra, said the cause of his death, in a hospital, was sepsis.Alongside Antônio Carlos Jobim, Mr. Lyra was widely considered among the greatest composers of bossa nova. Mr. Jobim once called him “a great melodist, harmonist, king of rhythm, of syncopation, of swing” and “singular, without equal.”Mr. Lyra was part of a loose circle of musicians who in the 1950s began looking for ways to blend the traditional samba sounds of Brazil with American jazz and European classical influences. They often gathered at the Plaza Hotel in Rio, not far from the Copacabana beach, to discuss music and hash out ideas.One of those musicians, the singer and guitarist João Gilberto, included three of Mr. Lyra’s compositions — “Maria Ninguém” (“Maria Nobody”), “Lobo Bobo” (“Foolish Wolf”) and “Saudade Fêz um Samba” (“Saudade Made a Samba”) — on his “Chega de Saudade” (1959), which has often been called the first bossa nova album. Mr. Lyra released his own first album a year later, titled simply “Carlos Lyra: Bossa Nova.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber?  More

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      A Holiday Version of ‘I’m Just Ken,’ and 12 More Songs

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      Hear tracks by Central Cee, Kesha, Jason Moran and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new tracks. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage, and The Amplifier, a twice-weekly guide to new and old songs.Ryan Gosling and Mark Ronson, ‘I’m Just Ken (Merry Kristmas, Barbie)’A well-timed holiday remix that doubles as shameless Oscar campaigning? Yes, they Ken! Ryan Gosling and Mark Ronson’s “Barbie” showstopper “I’m Just Ken” is reimagined in three different formats — acoustic lament, club banger and Christmas novelty — on the newly released “I’m Just Ken” EP. “I’m Just Ken (Merry Kristmas Barbie)” reworks the arrangement into a stately, vaguely festive bit of chamber-pop; Gosling doesn’t fill the lyrics with Christmas puns, thankfully, but merely mutters in conclusion a wistful, “Merry Christmas, Barbie … wherever you are.” LINDSAY ZOLADZCentral Cee, ‘Entrapreneur’“We put the trap in entrapreneur,” the British drill rapper Central Cee spits on his first solo single of the year, following high-profile collaborations with Dave, Drake and PinkPantheress. In his signature knottily conversational flow, Cee boasts about his hustler mentality and sudden success, never forgetting from where he came: “Went from a Toyota Yaris to Urus,” he raps. “I still got the same work rate as before.” ZOLADZFlagboy Giz and Kango Slim, ‘Fell in Love at the Secondline’Flagboy Giz grew up on hip-hop, but he’s also a proud carrier of New Orleans tradition as a member, since 2015, of the Wild Tchoupitoulas tribe of Mardi Gras Indians. The title of his 2023 album “Disgrace to the Culture” points to the way his music determinedly mixes hip-hop with New Orleans lore. Twitchy trap programming and a low-slung piano riff join hints of brass-band sousaphone and Mardi Gras tambourine to carry “Fell in Love at the Secondline,” a flirtation mapped onto the city’s streets. JON PARELESGenesis Owusu, ‘Survivor’A fierce beat, relentless but changeable — with percussion, voices and programming — drives “Survivor,” a knowing vow of defiance in the face of every obstacle. “I am the lawless, formless, thoughtless, flawless chaos of the sun/I am the seed of life and love, you see the blaze, you better run” chants Genesis Owusu, born in Ghana and living in Australia. The track is brutal, full of paradoxical wordplay — and fully confrontational. PARELESIza, ‘Que Se Vá’Iza, a Brazilian singer and rapper, isn’t just breaking up in “Que Se Vá” (“Let It Go”); she’s also canceling the ex’s credit card. Her gleeful good riddance, with verses that build toward laughter, is propelled by Afro-Brazilian rhythms, programmed handclaps and a harmony chorus that exults in its spite. PARELESKesha, ‘Eat the Acid’Kesha set aside her pop and rock reflexes for the somber “Eat the Acid” from her 2023 album, “Gag Order.” She sings about indelible drug revelations and warns, “You don’t wanna be changed/like it changed me.” With stark keyboard drones, a cappella moments, processed vocals and distant, ethereal harmonies, Kesha pushes toward the experimental realms of songwriters like Julia Holter and Björk. PARELESMedicine, ‘That’s Alright, Friend’Medicine, the indie-rock band Brad Laner has led since 1990, thrives on overload, placing poppy tunes within a pile-on of instruments, voices, electronics and distortion. “That’s Alright, Friend” — the opening track on its 2023 album, “Silences” — bashes out a six-beat stomp behind Julia Monreal’s cheerful voice while bells ping, electronics chatter and layered guitars pick up her melody. Then the track starts lurching into new territory, swerving through a few episodes before ending up somewhere like a psychedelic sea chantey, while Monreal repeats the title as reassurance amid the din. PARELESEsperanza Spalding and Fred Hersch, ‘But Not for Me’A vocalist sits on a stool in a dark-lit subterranean jazz club, topped with a beret, she-bopping through standards. Even if that’s more or less what you think of when you hear the word “jazz,” it’s probably not what the name “Esperanza Spalding” calls to mind. But back in 2018, Spalding took a detour into the old songbook, at the elbow of the piano maestro Fred Hersch, during a weeklong stand at the Village Vanguard. A few tracks from those dates were released as an album earlier this year.Yes, she wore a beret and sat on a stool, and the lights were low. (She also left her bass at home.) Still, Spalding created healthy distance between herself and the old material. On “But Not for Me,” even as she delights in banter with Hersch’s piano, Spalding seems certain this Gershwin tune was not written “for” her. “They say that Russian plays do boast of many gray skies,” she sings, before tapping out on the next line. “And then some words I don’t really understand, ’cause it’s like Old English: ‘hi-ho, alas and lackaday?’” she says. “That’s how I feel — confused about the whole situation.” The audience laughs easily, agreeing that the old material shines best when thrown open to the light of the present day. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLODarcy James Argue’s Secret Society, ‘All In’Darcy James Argue and his airtight big band, Secret Society, have long made a cottage industry out of dynamic torque, and Argue rarely wastes a note. “All In,” from their aptly named album “Dynamic Maximum Tension,” starts with a tenuous and crooked drum beat, then a procession of rich harmonies — packed with just enough dissonance to tighten up the energy — before a heavier beat kicks in. The horns swell atop a percussive, string-muted piano part from Adam Birnbaum. Even as the sound grows triumphant, that catalytic dissonance never goes away. RUSSONELLOJason Moran featuring Brian Settles, ‘Flee as a Bird to Your Mountain/Ghosts’“From the Dancehall to the Battlefield” is the culmination of a long project for the pianist and multivalent artist Jason Moran, who has spent years exploring and elevating the legacy of James Reese Europe, a pioneering bandleader who was also the first Black American to lead U.S. troops into combat, as a lieutenant in the 369th Infantry Regiment (the renowned “Harlem Hellfighters”) during World War I. Europe also helmed the regiment’s orchestra, which made waves in France and helped pave the way for the Jazz Age’s big-band boom.On “From the Dancehall,” Moran leads a 10-piece ensemble through a swirl of material, placing Europe into conversation with the 100 years of jazz history that have followed in his wake. One highlight comes on “Flee as a Bird to Your Mountain/Ghosts,” as Moran pairs a dirge-like Europe composition — which Europe’s band used to play whenever an infantryman had died on the battlefield — with Albert Ayler’s spiritualist free-jazz classic “Ghosts.” Brian Settles, a prominent tenor saxophonist on the jazz scene in Washington (Europe’s hometown), carries the melody to “Ghosts,” smearing and savoring his notes, then shifts into a shivery, heart-spilling solo. RUSSONELLOConexión Divina, ‘Anestesia’A thunderstorm rumbles through “Anestesia” (“Anesthesia”) by Conexión Divina, a three-woman band based in Los Angeles that plays the regional Mexican style called sierreño, which features melancholy love songs. In “Anestesia,” Liz Trujillo sings about a longing so intense she needs to numb herself. Whether it’s a blinding infatuation or post-breakup regret, the desperation is palpable. PARELESAngelica Garcia, ‘El Que’In “El Que” (“He That”), Angelica Garcia wrestles with an inner demon who “chills, robs energy, controls and bewitches,” preying on her own self-doubt. A throbbing electronic pulse underlines her vulnerability; she fights back with booming drums and a choral chant, achieving a tense standoff. PARELESMary Lattimore, ‘Music for Applying Shimmering Eye Shadow’On her 2023 album, “Goodbye, Hotel Arkada,” the harpist Mary Lattimore welcomed electronics and processing while keeping the plucked, resonant tones of her instrument at the center of her music. “Music for Applying Shimmering Eye Shadow” is minimalistic and meditative with little exact repetition. Basking in the slow alternation of two echoey chords topped with ever-changing fragments of melody, it does, indeed, shimmer. — PARELES More