(From Jazz Monthly No. 186 - August, 1970.) - UK

MUSIC IS THE HEALING FORCE OF THE UNIVERSE:
Albert Ayler (ten-1, bagpipes-2); Bobby Few (p); Henry Vestine
(g); Bill Folwell (bs, Fender-bs); Stafford James (bs); Muhammad
Ali (d); Mary Maria (vcl-3)
                              New York City  August 26, 27, 28 and 29,1969
Music is the healing force of the universe - 1,3  ::  Masonic inborn,
part 1-2  ::  A man is like a tree - 1,3  ::  Oh! love of live - 1,3  ::
Island harvest - 1,3  ::  Drudgery - 1
Note: Double-tracking by bagpipes on Masonic inborn and by
guitar on Drudgery
                              Impulse AS-9191 (59/6d.)

          A LOT OF WHAT happens on this album relates in some degree to the ideas first expressed on Ayler’s New Grass album (Impulse SIPL 519, reviewed November 69). Here, however, the rock beats have been replaced, except on Drudgery, by more familiar, fragmented methods; the vocal group has been dropped along with the studio band, though the song principle remains with Mary Maria’s work. But having got away to a large extent from the limiting rock format Ayler seems to have found himself in a no less awkward situation here, and though much of his old force of expression remains it gets dissipated and loses all effect in this new setting. On the vocal tracks he plays up to Mary Maria without ever telling us anything we didn’t know about his style already; the singer herself reveals a powerful voice but not much subtlety. The material is by Ayler and Mary Parks, the New grass team; a familiar series of melodic shapes emerges but the less said about the banal, inflated lyrics the better. Island is a bit of an oddity within the context, a calypso novelty complete with BWI accents, but nothing very satisfying emerges from it, while Drudgery reverts to instrumental format with a rock beat, and a solo from Ayler that sounds as though he’s auditioning  not too successfully  for a job with an organ combo.
          Which brings us to Masonic, a 12-minute workout on bagpipes complete with overdubbing to maintain the wall of sound. I can’t find anything here that’s very enjoyable; the instrument itself is certainly capable of producing some pretty unique sounds, and Ayler makes the most of this, but its severely limited in many other other ways and the performance as a whole, notwithstanding the obvious energy that went into it, is neither organised nor developed in any useful way.
          So it’s a pretty scrappy album, far from being Ayler’s best or even good at all by his standards. There was in his best work  still is  a quality that I can only describe as revelatory: the truth often was marching in with his music. It’s not evident here, and on present evidence doesn’t seem likely to come back until some changes are made somewhere. So at three quid a go one can only say caveat emptor.

JACK COOKE

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