Joe Henderson and Me…

It was a Lester Young record of a tune called "D.B. Blues." That was the one that did it for me. I can remember when I was ten, eleven years old, my brother, who was not a musician but a scientist, helping me learn that solo. It was like, just these three notes, then these next three, then these next three and I started to play along with Pres (Lester Young). After a while, that just gave me such a great feeling being able to do that.

Joe Henderson

It was a magic year for me. Lionel Hampton came to my town and some alto player that was working with him got ill. There was a guy who came from Chicago who came to my small town to take up residence. This guy could convince you that he knew Jesus Christ himself. So he told Lionel Hampton, “Man, I know this little kid in this town who could play that music. I know that.” Lionel is standing up there with a toothpick in his mouth, and he says, “Hey, man, go get your horn.” I boogied on home and got my horn. Next thing I know I’m up there on the stand. I’ve got all my friends out there, so I’m in good company. All of a sudden, I’m looking at this music, watching these notes fly by. I’ll never forget that. I mean, these notes were just flying by so fast. I thought, “How do these guys read so fast?” It took me a few years to get that skill together, where I could handle that a little bit. This guy named Bobby Plater, who played with Lionel’s band at that time, I was sitting to his right. Naturally, he knew the book, and he knew that I was lost, so he pointed out where we were and he kept me on track. Just getting a chance to hear some players when I was younger was the greatest thing that could have happened to me. I definitely was within earshot of some very valuable information. You hear people talking shop. You learn more by that, sometimes, than with an instructor standing up there giving this spiel on twentieth-century contrapuntal harmonic technique and all that kind of thing. If you’re within earshot of people just running that down, you’ve got a lot of information.

Joe Henderson

***The Kicker (1967) signed by Joe, Kenny Barron, Ron Carter, Louis Hayes***

Charlie Parker was too much for me to understand. My musical capacity wasn't up to it. I had been listening to Rhythm and Blues, and I had gone through that generation. I was always around Country and Western music as well. I know as much about Johnny Cash as I do about Charlie Parker, because I grew up in that area... a lot of Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, and all those cats who were really doing things around that time. I'm talking about the real deep blues players.

Joe Henderson

The trouble was, because we were filming the movie in England, the film company needed us to use musicians from the British Commonwealth, for tax purposes. So we figured out a little scheme. I told Antonioni I would fly to Canada – part of the British Commonwealth – and record the music there, with Canadian musicians. And I did in fact fly to Toronto and make recordings there, even though I knew already we weren’t going to use them. I never told the Canadian guys that, of course, but as soon as I could, I hopped on a flight from Toronto to New York. In New York, I got all the top musicians into the studio as fast as I could – Jack DeJohnette, Ron Carter, Freddie Hubbard, Joe Henderson. We recorded the score, and I put those tapes in the boxes marked “Canada” and then flew back to London. I handed them over to Antonioni, and as soon as he listened to them, he knew! “Is that Joe Henderson?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “And Jack DeJohnette?” He was such a huge jazz fan, he could tell who was playing by the sounds of their instruments and the way they played.
I felt bad misleading the Canadian musicians, but in the ’60s there really was a vast gap between the quality of American jazz musicianship and that of the rest of the world. In order to give Antonioni the level of music he wanted, I had no choice but to use New York musicians, who fortunately didn’t care a thing about getting credit. Eventually, when the Blow Up soundtrack was released, the New York musicians were listed on it, so the secret was out. But for a long time only Antonioni and I knew.

Herbie Hancock recording Blow Up soundtrack for filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni
I was supposed to be in Miles Davis’ band before Wayne (Shorter) got there. Trane had recommended me to Miles when he was getting ready to leave the band in the early part of 1960. But Uncle Sam had more power than Miles did. I got drafted, went over to Europe and did my stint in the military for two years. Fate has a way of dealing our cards to us. And I don’t regret having been in the military. I got a chance to learn French and German and meet Bud Powell, Don Byas, Kenny Clarke and a lot of people who were living over there at the time.
Joe Henderson

***Bas Ra (1965) signed by Joe Henderson***

Born in Lima, Ohio, Joe Henderson was one of fourteen children, surrounded by siblings and music. His first musical interest was as a drummer, "I wanted to play drums. I'd be making drums out of my mother's pie pans. But they said I'd gotten a high enough score that I could play anything, and they gave me a saxophone. It was a C melody. I played that about six months and went to the tenor. I was kind of born on the tenor saxophone." The banging and clanging on pie pans would lead to one of the most distinguished careers as a tenor saxophonist in the annals of jazz history. Joe also benefited from his older brother's taste in music, "I remember one of my brothers, in particular, who is a scientist, had this Jazz At The Philharmonic collection. He was a jazz buff and it was very good for me to be around that early on, because before I started to play the saxophone, I knew what the saxophone was supposed to sound like. I heard a bunch of people like Lester Young, Illinois Jacquet, Coleman Hawkins and Wardell Gray." They were worthy mentors and role models in the early development of Joe's playing and artistry.

The geographic location of Lima also played an important role. While it may not be a hotbed of jazz creativity now, Lima had a flourishing jazz and music scene then. It was a mid-point from the East to Detroit or Chicago and, as bands came through town, they played shows at local venues which Joe was able to attend, and in Lionel Hampton's case, actually sit in. Very heady stuff for a teenager, but Joe wasn't your typical teen. He wrote his first song, "Recorda-Me" when he was only fourteen or fifteen. Joe explained, "The first tune that I ever wrote, as a teenager, was a tune that I later retitled "Recorda-Me." This was before the Bossa Nova was introduced to North America by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd. My tune had a kind of generic Latin beat to it, without any specific rhythm, like a Pachanga or a Bolero or a Samba. But when I first heard this Bossa Nova (above the gunshots because I was in military training at the time). it caused me to go back to "Recorda-Me," not to rewrite it, but to change the rhythm of the melody line, in order to fit the Bossa Nova pulse. So (Antonio Carlos) Jobim had a profound effect on even the way that I proceeded with melodies that I already had."

Released in 1963 on Joe's debut album Page One, “Recorda Me” has become a jazz standard with additional recordings by Chick Corea, Art Farmer, McCoy Tyner and many others. Fresh off a two year stint with the US Army, Page One was recorded with trumpet deity Kenny Dorham and featured McCoy Tyner on piano, credited as "Etc." due to a contractual squabble between Blue Note and Impulse Records. An impressive debut, it never led to the kind of acclaim which Joe received until late in his career. Despite releasing twenty-seven records as a leader, and appearing on hundreds of sessions, Joe remained relatively unknown, until the early 1990s when he was 'rediscovered' and won four Grammy awards for his songbook editions: Lush Life: The Music of Billy Strayhorn, So Near, So Far (Musings For Miles), Double Rainbow: The Music Of Antonio Carlos Jobim, and Porgy & Bess.

***Ellington Is Forever (1975) signed by Joe, Kenny Burrell, Ernie Andrews, Jon Faddis***

As Joe recollected about his late career resurgence "There have been more gigs and that kind of thing, and the remunerative part of that equation has gotten to the point where it could have been - should have been - all of the time. You're talking to a pretty pleased person here... My brain is just buzzing as a result of this late recognition.” Pete Yellin, a fellow saxophonist and collaborator was more direct, “When Joe was at the height of his powers, Jazz wasn’t getting as much as acclaim. Now, if Joe Henderson came on the scene... look how he can play compared to Wynton Marsalis. Look how much he can play. I mean, Wynton is a great musician, a great spokesman, a great role model, a great human being, a great historian and everything, but look at what Joe played, man, compared to what Wynton played. I mean, it’s not even comparable. So if Wynton is a Pulitzer Prize winner, Joe should have been getting those kinds of awards, ‘cause to me, he’s almost as powerful as Charlie Parker, as powerful as Trane, you know, the way he turned Jazz around. People started combining modal with bebop, and he just brought the stuff to another area that was powerful. I’m telling you, every tenor player, and many alto players who were coming up in New York, Michael Brecker included... you can think of so many, they just imitated Joe Henderson, period. Imitated!”

Like many important and overlooked Jazz artists, Joe was hiding in plain sight. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to enjoy his well deserved renaissance for long. He suffered a stroke in 1998 which curtailed his performing and recording career, and eventually died in 2001 after a battle with emphysema. He was only sixty-four years old, but what a legacy of recordings he left behind.

In addition to his compositions which have become jazz standards - “Serenity”, “Punjab”, “The Kicker”, “Black Narcissus”, “Isotope” - two of my favorite tracks feature his singular saxophone on other leader’s albums: “Song For My Father” featuring Horace Silver and “The Sidewinder” with Lee Morgan. Horace, too, remembered his time with Joe fondly, “Joe was always a consistent soloist. He wasn’t hot one night, cold the next. I never heard Joe have a bad night. He told me one day on the phone, “I can’t understand why I’m so popular [now]. I’m playing the same thing I’ve always played.” It took people awhile to catch up to him. He was kind of a loner. He was on good terms with everyone in the band, but he wasn’t the buddy type of guy who would hang out with everybody in the band, or go out drinking. When the gig was over, he went to his room. Of course, Kenny Dorham discovered him first. But if I hadn’t, somebody else would have recognized his abilities and pushed him up the ladder of fame. I’m glad I was the one who primarily did.”

***Ellington Is Forever Volume Two (1977) signed by Joe, Kenny Burrell, Ernie Andrews, Gary Bartz, Sir Roland Hanna***

Sadly, I only saw Joe once at Blues Alley in the early 1990s. He was touring in support of his recent release, a tribute to the Brazilian master composer Antonio Carlos Jobim. He played mostly Jobim songs with skill and beauty. His encore was “Recorda Me”, its Latin beats and rhythms fitting in seamlessly with songs from the Jobim canon. After the show, I knocked on the dressing room door, and his tour manager answered, came out and shut the door carefully behind him. I could see Joe resting comfortably on a chair through the sliver of the opening. I thanked Joe’s manager for a wonderful performance, showed him some vinyl and asked if Joe wouldn’t mind signing some. “Yes, I’d be happy to get them signed,” he replied. I said, ‘I’d really like to thank him personally if you don’t mind.’ “Yeah, he really doesn’t do that, let me just get them signed.” With that, he took the albums and closed the dressing room door. Then I remembered, Joe’s nickname was “The Phantom,” he had a penchant and innate skill for disappearing after shows, sometimes even before shows much to the consternation and dismay of club owners and patrons. Just then the door slid open again, and the tour manager emerged victorious with signed albums. “Here you go, Joe really liked your vinyl, especially the Lee Konitz album. He really liked that one.” ‘That is a great album. Thanks again,’ and as the door remained slightly ajar, I could see my quarry. The Phantom had not entirely eluded me, ‘Thanks again Joe, that was a really great show.’ He smiled and waved, and that was the last time I ever saw The Phantom.

***Duets (1967) signed by Joe, Lee Konitz, Elvin Jones, Jim Hall, Dick Katz, Eddie Gomez***

Renee Rosnes, a wonderful pianist who performed with Joe, said it perfectly, “ I was consistently awed by Joe’s incredible artistry. From night to night, he played with such joy and command, and he inspired the same from his band mates. He wasn’t a leader who directed verbally, but rather spoke through his horn. Joe used to say, “Heaven is on the bandstand,” and could often be found looking skyward with his hands in a prayer-like stance, as he listened to the sounds being created around him. It was almost as if he was summoning the muses. I have many cherished memories of playing with him.”

Though The Phantom is gone, his glorious songs play on. Fortunately, Heaven is not only on the bandstand, it’s also on his vinyl!