The late ‘70s were bad times for jazz music. The scene just kind of collapsed and musicians were floundering for a toehold. At one end of the spectrum there was a free jazz movement that was chaotic, and all but the finest practitioners were mostly making noise. At the other end were great musicians trying to figure out how to make a living, and this unfortunately meant adding electric guitars, even a disco beat. Charles Mingus was ill and failing fast. Rahsaan had a stroke. Miles glowered from behind shades and a keyboard, offering up the occasional bleat on his horn. Bad times, indeed.
But somehow a very minor figure stepped forward and made some great, great music in this environment—trumpeter Woody Shaw. To this point Shaw had mostly worked in a back up capacity. He played extensively with Eric Dolphy, Joe Henderson, Andrew Hill, John Coltrane and many others. He had recorded some dates in his own name but they were underappreciated independent records. Then on the recommendation of Miles, Columbia Records signed him in 1977. (Miles said, “Now there’s a great trumpet player. He can play different from all of them.”) This led to a year for him that must have been breath taking.
Shaw recorded the album Rosewood, an extraordinary outing that featured both small group and small orchestral settings. The trumpeter brought a modal orientation wedded to a hard-edged approach learned at the elbow of guys like Dolphy. And the music was unapologetically unadulterated jazz. The title cut, Rahsaan’s Run and Sunshowers are particularly noteworthy. The critical raves poured in. The album was nominated for two Grammys and voted Best Jazz album of 1978 in Downbeat’s Readers Poll. Shaw was voted Best Jazz Trumpeter in the same poll. He went on to make several more excellent albums for Columbia in the next two years.
The label never managed to market this great music effectively; Shaw had health and habit problems; and Columbia cut him loose. While he did not vanish from the scene completely, that one-year peak was never regained. He went back to playing a largely back-up role. And then in 1989, under still uncertain circumstances, Shaw fell beneath the wheels of a subway car. He lost an arm, and then shortly thereafter, his life.
This album was unavailable for many years so it is gratifying to see it back again. Listen to it, if you get the chance.
