Word: brubeck
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Wherever they go, Brubeck and Saxophonist Desmond seem to be enveloped in a kind of electric field in which they can communicate almost without words. Their only "arranged" passages are occasional introductions or endings. Before a recent recording session, the desultory opening dialogue went something like this...
From then on, nothing further was said-they communicated through what Brubeck regards as a kind of mental telepathy. They will often get bored with the same idea or decide to make a switch at the same moment. They have many private musical jokes, e.g., Brubeck will play a few bars from a lovesong to kid Desmond about a girl friend, and once Desmond memorized the telephone number of a blonde by keying musical notes to each figure-Seaside...
Cadillac & Ford. Their technique is getting smoother all the time. Explains Brubeck: "Everything we play is superimposed on the tune, and each chorus is superimposed on the one before it. If you don't goof, you're obliged to keep going farther out all the time." Both Brubeck and Desmond habitually venture into keys that are entirely foreign to the one they are supposed to be playing in, for they are firm believers in what musicians call polytonality. Some tunes, like On the Alamo and Let's Fall in Love, stimulate the Brubeck crew...
...Brubeck, the driver who pilots the strange, souped-up vehicle, rarely stops worrying about whether the audience will be with him. Says he: "The audience is part of creativity, maybe some of them for the first time in their lives. When it works, that persistent beat starts to become a live thing in the room. Pretty soon it is so solid everybody feels it, and it comes back to you. Then you can really start to play music...
When he feels he has "really" played music, Brubeck seems almost in a kind of trance. It happened at a recent recording session. Dave finished in a fever, grabbed a handkerchief, wiped his face and ran to the wall as if he wanted to burst through it. Paul laughed aloud, followed him and spun him around. Brubeck was laughing, too, great yelps of laughter. He threw his arms into the air, drunk with music. A photographer who happened to be there was caught up in the excitement. "You're hot," he yelled...