In the booklet contained within Elemental Music’s package of Sun Ra’s recordings in Chicago, Marshall Allen, one of the musicians who succeeded Ra in leading his orchestra, states that “Ra
was preparing the band for the 21st century.”

Well, now is the 21st century.

And a new generation of listeners is discovering the timeless vision of Ra, whose music connected the past with the present as it peered into the future.

Two recent Sun Ra albums of live performances in the late seventies have become available to satisfy listeners’ interest and to provide additional understanding of Ra’s music.

The common denominator for both albums is Zev Feldman, who has earned the sobriquet of “Jazz Detective.” That moniker aptly and concisely suggests his unceasing productivity for discovering and releasing previously unheard recordings of jazz icons.

Ra belongs in the category of “jazz icon.” But then again, he doesn’t.

Ra’s repertoire originated in his work with the Fletcher Henderson Orchestra. After that, Ra moved onward and upward to establish a cosmic connection with music that transcends the traditional jazz career.

His idiosyncrasies taken to an ethereal level unlike anyone else’s, Ra created more than an image.

He and his orchestra represented a vivid and evolving statement that merged his music with his and his band’s appearance, innovations, living arrangements, and lyrics.

That statement was one with the cosmos, a “music of the spheres,” in which tonality synchronized with the vibrations of “outer space.” Needless to say, Ra wasn’t concerned about commercial interests. He was completely absorbed in his beliefs in the celestial powers of music.

Or to borrow from Duke Ellington, Ra was “beyond category.” Way beyond category.

And he wasn’t subtle about it.

Both albums—Lights on a Satellite: Live at the Left Bank and At the Showcase: Live in Chicago: 1976-1977—make that clear.

Despite the venues’ differing vibes—the informal, sometimes raucous, community-based Famous Ballroom in Baltimore; and Joe Segal’s more closely focused Jazz Showcase in Chicago—the Arkestra’s appeal won over audiences. The people present for the Arkestra’s concerts in both locations were treated to the band’s outreach as it marched around the ballroom.

The lavish production values associated with Feldman’s projects continue. Both packages contain, as always, comprehensive information about Ra’s career through photographs, posters, knowledgeable essays, and interviews with musicians who knew or were influenced by Ra. After Feldman obtained the original reel-to-reel tapes, he contacted trusted sound engineers to upgrade the recordings through digital enhancements.

The consistency of Ra’s performances derives from the Arkestra’s interactive atmosphere. In 1968, Ra settled into a house in the Germantown section of Philadelphia. It became the Sun Ra Arkestral Institute: the orchestra’s physical base of operations. The musicians believed in Ra’s ethos, and they remained loyal to him throughout decades.

Indeed, reed player Marshall Allen, whose hundredth birthday was celebrated in spring, 2024 at the Institute and at the Solar Myth nightclub, followed John Gilmore as the leader of the Arkestra after Ra passed in 1993. Ra was protective of his band members. He encouraged them not to perform elsewhere, and they agreed.

Though he probably would have disagreed with the description, Ra was a showman. Perhaps he knew that the patrons of the Famous Ballroom favored more traditional forms of jazz. Accordingly, the Arkestra’s performances in Baltimore commanded immediate attention with a “Thunder of Drums.”

June Tyson’s voice on the second track, “Tapestry from an Asteroid,” gently drew in the audience. But at 2:30, all space broke loose when the band came in from the remaining ten minutes.

Families looked forward to meeting their friends and neighbors at the Famous Ballroom’s convivial gatherings, where they shared home-made meals. Both the audience and the musicians shared an innate sense of community.

While Ra’s concert in Baltimore reinforces his fascination with space-based themes, Resonance Records’s Lights on a Satellite also is a reminder of his talent on the piano, which he played perhaps as a compromise for the audience’s, which preferred blues and bebop.

Against expectations, Ra advances from delicacy to piano smashes on “Somewhere over the Rainbow.” His piano work on “A Pleasant Place in Space” is, well, pleasant enough with Impressionistic modal splashes and ruminative celestial spontaneity. “Space Travelin’ Blues,” which opens with a pedal point underpinning his descending notes, evolves, against surprisingly, into a barrelhouse blues over which the band improvises.

The point of such observations: Ra has been underappreciated as a pianist.

Ra’s variety show in Baltimore recalls his days as Herman Blount in the Fletcher Henderson Orchestra by including Henderson’s thrilling “Yeah Man” and the punching accents of “Big John’s Special.” The recording captures the audience’s applause as it warms up to the Arkestra after “Space Travelin’ Blues.” Its enthusiasm for the band rises after the Henderson pieces. Not only did the Arkestra display the quality of its musicianship; but it also won over its listeners.

On Lights on a Satellite, the Arkestra continued to include some jazz standards, like its thrilling fast-paced medley of Tadd Dameron’s “Lady Bird” and Miles Davis’s “Half Nelson.” Walter Miller contributes an electrifying, high-pitched trumpet improvisation; Allen, a furious extended cadenza. The audience shouted and clapped.

Ra threw in another curve when the orchestra played “Watusi” in six-eight, a choice that showcased the Arkestra’s five-piece percussion section.

After such acceptance, Ra was free to move on to his sonic interplanetary explorations by switching from acoustic to electronic keyboard. But “We Travel the Spaceways,” nonetheless, was based upon a hand-clapping shuffle rhythm.

Ra was still the entertainer.

Fascinated by Ra’s interpersonal appeal and unique talent, film maker Robert Mugge decided in the late seventies to produce a film about him. Sun Ra: A Joyful Noise premiered in 1980. The last two bonus tracks of Lights on a Satellite—“Left Bank Blues” and “’Round Midnight”—appear in Mugge’s film and are included with permission, as are some screen shots from the film.

While the Arkestra’s recordings from Baltimore’s Famous Ballroom often featured Ra’s exploratory technique on piano before a primed audience, Elemental Music’s Sun Ra at the Showcase: Live in Chicago 1976-1977 emphasizes the otherworldly spirit of the entire band in a more confined space before an attentive audience. Trumpeter Ahmed Abdullah described the Jazz Showcase’s audience looking down at the “small bandstand” from risers. Ra had decided upon the more futuristic repertoire for the Chicago performances recorded during two engagements.

The recording from the February 21, 1976, session starts with the 17-3/4-minute “Calling Planet Earth & the Shadow World,” a freely performed suite involving separate sections of street-corner-like free conversations, interplanetary electronica, untethered group improvisations, rumbling percussion, and futuristic solos from trumpeter Abdullah, alto saxophonist Allen, and bass clarinetist Eloe Omoe.

Every piece from the 1976 performance turns out the stars. “Theme of the Stargazers” features June Tyson, Cheryl Banks-Smith and Wisteria singing starlit lyrics, as do band members, in between the instrumental long tones—some electronically warbling and others on pitch. Eventually, the performers evolve into gospel-like clapping. For three minutes, “Ebah Speaks in Cosmic Tongue” presents spoken rhythmic excitations that receives equally zealous responses, as if inspired by gospel sermons. The Arkestra also plays its most popular composition, “Space Is the Place,” which it would perform on Saturday Night Live on May 20, 1978. Afterward, the Chicago audience applauded enthusiastically for almost two minutes.

From the 1977 sessions, the Arkestra played “View from Another Dimension” with its turbulent electronic keyboard soundscapes, incandescent chords, thunderous rhythms and effects unique to this orchestra. “Moonship Journey’s” jaunty chant led to a backbeat-animating street-parade platform for improvisations. Both these tracks clocked in at just under and just over ten minutes, respectively.

But not all was intergalactic.

Ra reached into the past to revive his earlier compositions of the droll “Ankhnaton” and the fast-paced “Velvet,” which showcases the Arkestra’s trumpet and sax soloists. Sun Ra at the Showcase includes Ra’s interpretation of Art Hickman’s “Rose Room,” a staple written in 1917 and popularized during the swing era. Unsurprisingly, Ra’s updated version is grittier, bluesier, more forceful, and looser than the traditional swing-and-sway dance band versions. Nonetheless, its inclusion during this session confirms the fact that Ra’s vision encompassed much of the twentieth century, from the decade of his birth into the future.

Sun Ra at the Showcase: Live in Chicago 1976-1977 concludes, sagaciously enough, with “Greetings from the 21st Century,” a 2-1/2-minute call-and-response hand-clapper.

The 21st century gratefully appreciates Sun Ra’s greetings from the 20th century.

Labels’ Web Sites: https://resonancerecords.org
https://www.elemental-music.com