Word: elvins
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...ahead improvisations around themes with strong rhythms, seem perfect for Carter. While Keith Jarrett is probably the premier jazz piano soloist today, Tyner is the greatest group player and composer. And Tyner's albums, especially the trio recordings, bring out the best in Carter. "Trident"--a trio recording featuring Elvin Jones on drums--is an amazing album, from Tyner's innovative use of the harpsicord to Carter's short-and-to-the-point solos. Carter, who is now one of the top recording bassists, also plays on Tyner's "Fly With The Wind" and "Supertrios." The latter...
...course they didn't make it. Chuck kept his foot on the gas, slid backwards into the cliff, totalled the car and walked away from it. But Elvin lost his nerve, hit the brakes, couldn't make the turn, went headfirst into a stationwagon full of people coming up the river from Charleston. Two people got killed, Elvin one of them. I was the first to get to the car, and as soon as I did it blew...
...SCARIEST THING I ever saw was the night Elvin Anderson and Chuck Paxton decided to drag race. Which in itself wasn't so bad, but they were arguing about who was the quickest off the line, and they decided to race from the foot of the Elkview Bridge to the main highway, a distance later stepped off by the state police at 36 yards. They were going to come roaring up this little ramp-like section of road and Chuck was going to turn right, up U.S. 119 towards Clendenin, and Elvin was supposed to go left. Everybody came...
They sat in their cars, obviously the hottest around--Chuck, in a 1969 Camaro, brand-new 454 modified stock engine they came out with that year, Holly carbs, and Elvin in a '68 Mach I, special Ford 427 four-speed, a quick rear end, a 3.97 I think. Both cars had huge tires wrapped around Cragar mags, jacked-up front-and-rear. Bootleg cars, the epitome of American technology devoted, as it so often is, to breaking the law. And because I was just as drunk as they were, and very nearly as foolish, I stood out between them with...
...what made them want to try it in the first place. But I think John Prine would know. It was the strangling to death in a claustrophobic small town, the desperation of it--and not some quiet desperation, either. It was as real and loud as the shout from Elvin Anderson's yelping GT-60 8.20s as he went slip-sliding into that stationwagon. But home, for me and for Prine, is a place of contradictions, a place where true natural beauty can give away around the next turn to the ugly slash of a strip mine, where...