A Useful Survey.

Show: FRESH AIR
Date: JULY 11, 1997
Time: 12:00
Tran: 071101NP.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: Charlie Haden
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:06

BARBARA BOGAVE (PH), HOST: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Barbara Bogave.

Tonight in New York, saxophonist and composer Ornette Coleman will perform the last of a four-concert retrospective as part of the Lincoln Center Festival of Exploratory Music, Dance, and Theater. This celebration of Ornette Coleman is just one in a series of recent honors. He was awarded a MacArthur Foundation Genius Grant in 1994, and this year he was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

On today's archive edition of FRESH AIR, we're offering our own tribute to Ornette Coleman. We'll hear from Ornette and his son Denardo and from two other musicians who played with Ornette: Charlie Haden and Don Cherry.

Today, Coleman's standing as an important jazz innovator is unassailable, but as a newcomer in the late '50s, he was a controversial figure in the jazz world. His band at the time, The Ornette Coleman Quartet, was so rhythmically and harmonically radical that it provoked an uproar among musicians, critics and listeners, who all jumped into the fray to attack or defend this new music.

This is how the group sounded in 1959, playing "Lonely Woman" from the Ornette Coleman album "The Shape of Jazz to Come."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, THE ORNETTE COLEMAN QUARTET PERFORMING "LONELY WOMAN")

BOGAVE: The Ornette Coleman Quartet, performing Lonely Woman on the 1959 release The Shape of Jazz to Come from Atlantic Records. It features Don Cherry on trumpet and Charlie Haden on bass.

Charlie Haden's impact on jazz was both profound and immediate. In 1959, he moved to New York from Los Angeles to become part of the quartet. In 1985, he told Terry Gross about his first encounter with Ornette.

CHARLIE HADEN, JAZZ BASS PLAYER: I was 19 years old and we played all day long. He had a room full of music strewn all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling. He was constantly writing music and he told me before we started to play, he said:

"Charlie, I've written these pieces now and here's the chord changes. Now, these are the chord changes that I heard inside myself when I was writing the melody, but these are just a guide for you. I want you to be inspired from them and create your own chord structure from the inspiration or from the feeling of what I've written."

"And that way, constantly, a new chord structure will be evolving and we will be constantly modulating and we'll be listening to each other and we will make some exciting music."

And that's exactly what happened.

TERRY GROSS, HOST: Were you surprised at how controversial the music was when you started playing it? You know, a lot of people couldn't handle it at all -- musicians, listeners.

HADEN: I was very involved in learning about the playing. We were all involved, because it was a brand new language. We didn't even think of it as being a brand new language. We only thought of it as "we're hearing something and we've got to play it."

And we were constantly learning about what it was we were doing. Things were being born every day out of what we were doing, and there was a lot of controversy around us. When we opened up at the "Five Spot" in New York, fights used to break out right in the club. People would be putting us down; people would be praising us.

The club was packed every night with everybody from different parts of the art world -- painters, famous writers, filmmakers, dancers, musicians. I would look out and standing at the bar would be Paul Chambers, Percy Heath (ph), Charlie Mingus (ph) and they would be looking dead in my eye, you know, and saying: "OK, what are you going to do?"

And I would be playing and have my eyes closed, and one night I opened my eyes and there was Leonard Bernstein with his ear glued to the front of my instrument. And I looked over at Ornette, I said: "what is this?" He says: "I'll tell you later" and then we were invited to Leonard Bernstein's table.

He invited us to the philharmonic rehearsals and he couldn't believe that I was self-taught and he wanted to try and get me to study music and he was very helpful in me getting a Guggenheim Fellowship 10 years later in composition.

But it was like that every night. It was very exciting. The violence wasn't exciting. I mean, people -- one guy set somebody's car on fire one night, I remember. Somebody came back in the kitchen -- we were standing talking with Ornette -- and I won't say who it was -- and hit Ornette in the face, you know.

I mean, it was really a very strong, excitation time. New things were happening, not only in music, but in people's minds every night from that music, you know.

And people were always asking me why I was the only white musician, and I never thought about that until people asked me about it, you know. And -- but that's the way life is. That's the way human beings are.

BOGAVE: Charlie Haden, bassist in The Ornette Coleman Quartet, from a 1985 interview with Terry gross. We'll be hearing the more recent interview with Hayden in the second half of our show.

Dateline: Terry Gross, Philadelphia
Guest: Charlie Haden
High: Jazz Bassist Charlie Haden. He formed his Quartet West to play the music of the 1940s and early '50s, and they've released a number of albums. His latest album is a collaboration with Pat Metheny, "Beyond the Missouri Sky."
Spec: Music Industry; Jazz; History; Charlie Haden
Please note, this is not the final feed of record
Copy: Content and programming copyright (c) 1997 National Public Radio, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. under license from National Public Radio, Inc. Formatting copyright (c) 1997 Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to National Public Radio, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission. For further information please contact NPR's Business Affairs at (202) 414-2954
End-Story: Charlie Haden
Show: FRESH AIR
Date: JULY 11, 1997
Time: 12:00
Tran: 071102NP.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: Denardo and Ornette Coleman
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:30

BARBARA BOGAVE (PH), HOST: On today's archive edition of FRESH AIR, we continue our tribute to jazz artist Ornette Coleman with an interview Terry Gross recorded with the man himself and his son, drummer Denardo Coleman, in 1995.

They spoke following the release of "Tone Dialing" on their label "Harmolodic," named after what Ornette Coleman calls his "harmolodic approach" to music. Denardo produced the recording.

Here's the opening track.

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, SOUND OF ORNETTE COLEMAN PERFORMING OPENING TRACK FROM ALBUM "TONE DIALING")

GROSS: Denardo, what did "free jazz" mean to you when you were young? When you were a child?

DENARDO COLEMAN, JAZZ DRUMMER AND PRODUCER: Didn't mean anything to me.

GROSS: Just meant more music?

D. COLEMAN: No, I didn't -- wasn't even aware of it. I was not even aware of "free jazz," only categories. You know, like I said, to me it was just a natural sort of experience, just, you know, playing music with my father and the other guys that were playing with him and, you know, I made some records and I would actually go and play some performances and that was it for me.

ORNETTE COLEMAN, JAZZ MUSICIAN: When I hear you say "free jazz," I feel the same way. I never told anyone I was playing free. In fact, I went to -- a promoter had hired me to play in Cincinnati and he had posted around the city "free jazz concert" by Ornette Coleman. And the night of the concert, about 5,000 people showed up and not one had bought a ticket.

GROSS: They thought it was free...

O. COLEMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: No admission. Denardo, can I ask you to share your earliest memory of hearing you father's music?

D. COLEMAN: Probably playing together. You know, I think I expressed an interest in playing when I was really young -- maybe five or six or seven. And I wanted to play the drums and so he got me a drum set and we just started playing together.

And for me, that's really how I became a musician or learned, you know, what music was about, was just actually playing and listening and being in the environment as, you know, they were rehearsing.

All the people that played with him, you know, particularly the drummers, really were my influence -- like Ed Blackwell (ph) and Billy Higgins, Charles Moffitt (ph). So I was just really right there, you know, in the environment and again, it wasn't so much saying "I really want to be a musician" as I really just, you know, wanted just to participate and...

GROSS: Why drums? Why did you ask for drums?

D. COLEMAN: You know, I don't know at the time. That was just what I expressed interest in. You know, I don't really remember exactly why, but it just captivated, you know, my imagination at that time.

GROSS: Ornette, I think the reaction a lot of parents have when a child asks for drums is: "couldn't you have asked for a quieter instrument?" Did you ever have that reaction yourself?

O. COLEMAN: No, because I think I suggested him to play the drums. You know, I told him, you know, forget about around how someone had seen you through their own eyes or their concept of who they are.

Just enjoy what you like doing, whether, you know, don't -- I don't think anyone has to please someone in order for them to enjoy what they like to do.

GROSS: When Denardo started to play drums did you think that eventually you'd be in a band together?

O. COLEMAN: Well, actually -- I love your questions because I really feel very bad that I've taken up more of Denardo's time for him to assist me in what I -- what my needs are in relationship to a composing performer because basically, Denardo has his own expression and his own music. In some way, he has put that on the back burner to assist me and his mother.

GROSS: Do you feel like you've done that, too, Denardo?

D. COLEMAN: No, no, because you know I feel so much a part of what we've done together that to me it's been the same thing. You know, although there's some other things that, you know, that I've been thinking about trying to explore, which is going to be part of some of the other records we're going to be putting out.

GROSS: Denardo, when you started playing drums, did your father have any rules about -- around the house -- about when you couldn't practice because it would bother the neighbors? You know, the typical...

D. COLEMAN: No, no. Although I remember once when we were practicing like in the garage -- at that point, we were living in Los Angeles -- and you know, I don't know if neighbors complained or somebody, but there would seem like a whole battalion of police showed up one day. They were very aggressive.

O. COLEMAN: And they pulled their guns.

GROSS: They pulled their guns?

O. COLEMAN: On the kid, on -- yeah, on ... yeah, yeah.

D. COLEMAN: I think they were surprised to see, you know, him and I just in the garage rehearsing. I don't know what they were expecting, but, you know, I do remember that.

GROSS: Did you ever find out who called the police?

D. COLEMAN: No, no. But, you know, I don't really remember anything else in terms of, you know, being restricted, though.

GROSS: Well, I guess that taught you a lesson of how angry people could really get.

LAUGHTER

Geez, I guess it taught you a really different lesson, though, about the police.

O. COLEMAN: And I'm thinking it wasn't the music. I think it was racial.

GROSS: Right. Right.

O. COLEMAN: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: Ornette, remember you said earlier that you sometimes feel bad that -- you feel like you've maybe limited Denardo's options because you've needed him to work with you in the band and managing you and all that. In what sense do you feel like you need Denardo? That he's doing something that someone else isn't going to be able to do for you?

O. COLEMAN: I love your questions.

LAUGHTER

Because it sounds -- those questions sounds to me psychological, social, and racial and everything else, but basically, what I was referring to is the fact that -- I read in the paper today where a brain specialist -- a guy went into hospital and said: this leg is going -- this is the leg I want you to take off. Do you know the right leg? And when he woke up, it was the other leg that was taken off.

So for me, I would rather work with someone that knew what I'm trying to achieve.

GROSS: Right. Right. You feel like there's a lot of people that misunderstand you.

O. COLEMAN: No, no. Uh-uh. I said to know what I'm trying to -- I -- for instance, I had an interview with a very good critic in Europe last week, and he said: "oh, you know, this music -- you're -- I really love what you're doing, but I don't understand it." I said: "well, I'm going to ask you a question: if you did understand it, would you love the music better?"

LAUGHTER

You know?

GROSS: Well, I want to thank you both very much for talking with us.

O. COLEMAN: Oh, thank you very much.

D. COLEMAN: Thank you.

O. COLEMAN: Terry, do you play music or sing?

GROSS: Oh, I've played a bunch of things badly.

O. COLEMAN: Oh, that's what I thought.

GROSS: Yeah.

O. COLEMAN: I mean, I...

LAUGHTER

... I didn't think you'd play them badly, but I thought you must be connected to music.

GROSS: Yeah, no -- I, but, yes. I play piano badly and French horn badly and clarinet badly. And even a little bit of guitar badly.

O. COLEMAN: Next time we play, bring either one of your instruments to our rehearsals. Maybe we could find something good.

GROSS: Hey, I sing really badly too.

LAUGHTER

O. COLEMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: This sounds great.

LAUGHTER

Where would you -- what would you -- say I did that.

O. COLEMAN: Yep.

GROSS: What would you -- what would the first thing be? What would we do?

O. COLEMAN: Well, we would first, I'd ask you to do something that you enjoy, that you feel you do well. Then we would play with you.

GROSS: Oh, that's interesting. So you'd just kind of play around me.

O. COLEMAN: Well, actually, you know -- I was going to ask you if you were a composer, I could give you an example of just how musicians that I asked to do what I'm asking you to do, would feel more comfortable doing that because for instance, you know, maybe you have a favorite key or a favorite -- for instance, the back piece on the record, when I was looking for a classical guitarist, I would ask Chris Rosenberg (ph) which piece did he like, and he'd said: "oh, I like this piece by Bach." I said: "well, play it."

Then after he played it, I said: "you know, I'm going to take my horn and interpret what you are doing harmolodically" and when I got through, he said: "I want to join your band." So I said: "that's just the reason why I did this, so you could see why I'm interested in hiring a classical player."

Because if you listen to that piece on the CD, you would see that he's playing it twice. And the second time he plays it, he sounds like he's playing changes for us to play to resolve harmolodic ideas. And when he's playing it as a solo piece, it sounds like a melody.

D. COLEMAN: Although he hasn't changed...

O. COLEMAN: He hasn't changed the way he played it...

D. COLEMAN: ... playing the same thing...

O. COLEMAN: ... nothing change -- not at all. So, you can do that with us very easy, even if what you call "bad."

BOGAVE: Ornette Coleman and his son Denardo spoke with Terry Gross in 1995. Tonight, Ornette Coleman performs "Tone Dialing" with his band "Prime Time" and a rapper, dancers, and video artists at the Lincoln Center Festival.

Ornette Coleman's new album "Colors" is coming out in August from Harmolodic Verve.

This is FRESH AIR.

Dateline: Terry Gross, Philadelphia
Guest: Ornette Coleman; Denardo Coleman
High: Composer and jazz musician Ornette Coleman and his son, producer Denardo Coleman. They collaborated on an album, under the label that Coleman recently founded: Harmolodic -- a division of Verve Records. Coleman was a recipient of the MacArthur Fellowship Award. Coleman's latest release is "Colors" with German pianist Joachim Kuhn. Also his landmark 1987 album "In All Languages" featuring him and the members of his original Quartet has been re-issued.
Spec: Music Industry; History; Jazz; Harmolodic
Please note, this is not the final feed of record
Copy: Content and programming copyright (c) 1997 National Public Radio, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. under license from National Public Radio, Inc. Formatting copyright (c) 1997 Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to National Public Radio, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission. For further information please contact NPR's Business Affairs at (202) 414-2954
End-Story: Denardo and Ornette Coleman
Show: FRESH AIR
Date: JULY 11, 1997
Time: 12:00
Tran: 071103NP.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: Charlie Haden 1996
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:30

BARBARA BOGAVE (PH), HOST: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Barbara Bogave.

In the first half of our show, we heard a 1985 interview with Charlie Haden, one of the original members of The Ornette Coleman Quartet. In 1969, Haden launched his own group, "The Liberation Music Orchestra," whose music was inspired by democracy movements around the world.

Ten years ago, he founded his group "Quartet West," whose sound pays tribute to film noir, detective novels, and jazz and pop singers of the '40s and '50s. Haden grew up in a family of singers, who performed on their own country music radio show.

Terry Gross spoke again with Charlie Haden in 1996, about his distinctive interpretation of jazz and how Ornette Coleman influenced his musical development.

TERRY GROSS, HOST: When you were young, in your early 20s I guess, you started playing with Ornette Coleman's group. When you first met Ornette Coleman, which was before he was known to anyone, what was he doing that coincided with what you wanted to do?

CHARLIE HADEN, MUSICIAN: I'd been going to a lot of jam sessions and playing in L.A. with a lot of different people, and sometimes I would hear -- I mean, I love playing on chord changes. That's the reason that I love this music and I love improvising on beautiful changes that inspire you.

But sometimes I wanted to stay on a certain part of the song and keep playing, and sometimes I wanted to play on the inspiration of a piece, rather than on the chord structure. But I mean, I couldn't put it into words back then, but I -- whenever I tried to do what I was hearing, people would get upset.

And when I heard Ornette play, that's what he was doing. That's the way he played all the time.

GROSS: How do you think your playing was permanently changed by playing with Ornette Coleman?

HADEN: Well, it wasn't changed. It was really deeply affected. I mean, it was a way that I learned about listening to the musicians that you were playing with at the moment you're playing with them. It's so important to listen to everyone. And that's the way it was really affected by playing with Ornette.

Plus the fact that I developed this really strong desire, you know, to play with my whole life on the line; to be willing to give my life for every note I play, that every note is really, really important -- each note, for people to hear, you know. The reason that we're playing this music is to bring more people to this art form so that they can see that it's a beautiful art form and it can touch their life in a really great way and enhance their life.

And that there's an alternative, you know. This music is an alternative for people to know about and to experience. So I think that's why we were all playing. That's why we -- that's why I play now, is to bring people near this art form.

GROSS: Let's hear something that you recorded with Ornette Coleman. Why don't we hear "Focus on Sanity."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, BASSIST CHARLIE HADEN PERFORMING "FOCUS ON SANITY" WITH THE ORNETTE COLEMAN QUARTET)

GROSS: For listeners who -- those listeners who didn't like Ornette Coleman's music -- what you were playing with him -- found the music discordant -- do you think that there's any contradiction or is there a connection between the period that you played with Ornette and the kind of really like lush, almost romantic, moody music that you're playing now with your own group, Quartet West?

HADEN: No, because it's played with the same desire and passion and urgency to make new music; to create something that's never been before, and that's the way all musicians in Quartet West plays -- Ernie Watts (ph) and Allan Drogden (ph) and Lawrence Mirabel (ph) -- they approach music that way.

And I really don't think that there's that much of a difference in what we're doing in Quartet West and what I was doing with Ornette. I mean, a lot of people have to categorize things, you know, and this is the avant garde and this is traditional jazz; or this is whatever.

And I really believe that any musician that makes an impact on this art form, or any other art form, for that matter -- they play beyond -- at a level beyond category. So it's all -- it's all one necessary endeavor to me.

BOGAVE: Bassist Charlie Haden talking with Terry Gross. This is FRESH AIR.

Now back to a 1996 interview Terry Gross recorded with bassist Charlie Haden.

GROSS: What part did you sing with your family when you were a boy? And they had a country music radio show and performed country music all around.

HADEN: Yeah. I sang all the harmony parts. You know, I couldn't wait to get to the studio every day. I loved it. Every day, my parents would choose the songs that we were going to play out of their vast library of songs from the Carter Family and the Delmore (ph) Brothers, and all the hymns that we had. And we would go over them, and then we would go on the air.

Sometimes, we had radio studios in our homes, wherever we were living. We moved around a lot and -- but mostly we would go to the studio at the radio station and do our show every day. I loved going to the studio and -- I liked the air conditioning and the acoustical tile -- you know the acoustical tile and the big windows, you know, that had triple, quadruple glass. And, this was back in 1945, '46, '47, '48, '49.

It was a great experience.

GROSS: I can't believe you had radio studios in your home. Would you do remotes from your own home?

HADEN: Yeah. You know, where I was born in Shenandoah (ph), Iowa, we were on a radio station there called "KMA." It's still there. And when my dad moved our family to Springfield, Missouri in the Ozark Mountains, and my grandparents -- my father's mother and father -- had a farm outside Springfield, and my dad always wanted to do farming.

So he got this farm down the road, you know, gravel road -- I went to a one-room school house there, Belleview School. In our farm house, my dad had the radio station come out and hook up a remote thing where, you know, those -- the things that you ring where you turn the crank?

GROSS: Mm-hmm.

HADEN: You know, well, he used to turn this crank and when -- and the ring would go into the studio in Springfield, and that was the signal for us to go on the air -- we'd start the theme song. And we did it from our -- we did our show from our farm house for several years before we moved into the city and went over to the station every day.

GROSS: So did you play in churches and at revival meetings and stuff, in addition to singing on the radio?

HADEN: We played in churches. We played personal appearances all over. My parents were on the Grand Ole Opry quite a few times.

GROSS: You know what I'm wondering -- if singing at churches and other, you know, like religious events, revivals whatever -- does that give you a sense that music had this spiritual potential in it?

HADEN: Well, the hymns especially that we sing, you know. And then my mom used to take me when I -- I don't know why she chose me to take -- but I was one of the -- I was the one child -- she had six kids, you know, I had three brothers and two sisters -- and several Sunday mornings, quite a few Sunday mornings, actually, when I was around nine years old, she would take me to the African-American church in Springfield. There was just one of them.

And we would go in after everyone was there. We would kind of like quietly go in the entrance and we would sit in the back row. And we would just listen to the choir.

It was like one of the most beautiful things that I've ever experienced in my life to hear that music -- the spirituals and the gospel music. And I'll never forget that.

I had a really early contact with spirituals and hymns, and I had a feeling right away that there was a spirituality in music. I mean, you know, when you talk about jazz, I believe 85, 90 percent of improvisation in jazz is spiritual.

You know, it's a spirituality that's -- you can go to school and learn the academics of music and the fundamentals and scales and chords and composition and all that, but when you start to play and you tell a story to people and you take people on a journey that you want to take them on, it's all about spirituality.

GROSS: Charlie, a recent album of yours is an album of spirituals, hymns, and folk songs. And it features you with the pianist Hank Jones. It's an album of duets. Are any of these same songs that you used to do as a child?

HADEN: Yeah, we used to do "Abide With Me" and some of the other hymns that we do -- "Amazing Grace" -- on the album.

GROSS: Mm-hmm.

HADEN: And actually every hymn that's on "Steal Away," we used to sing -- and Hank and I chose which hymns and which spirituals. He had a lot of spirituals. Hank was from the spiritual part of it, and he knew all these great songs.

And you know, my favorite one that he -- that I've ever heard him play was "It's Me, Oh, Lord, Standing in the Need of Prayer," and that's the one that I heard on the Smithsonian collection of jazz piano that inspired me to do the record with him.

And I called him as soon as I heard it, and I said: "Man, that's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. Could we play spirituals together sometime?" And he said: "Charlie, I'd really love to do it. Let's do it." So we did it.

GROSS: Why don't we hear that spiritual that you just mentioned, "It's Me, Oh Lord. And this is from an album of duets with my guest Charlie Haden and pianist Hank Jones. The CD is called "Steal Away."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, CHARLIE HADEN, BASSIST, AND HANK JONES, PIANIST, PERFORMING "IT'S ME, OH LORD" FROM CD "STEAL AWAY")

GROSS: My guest is bass player and composer Charlie Haden, and this is from his recent album with Hank Jones called Steal Away.

You stopped singing as a child for a while because -- I guess you stopped singing altogether because of polio?

HADEN: Yeah, I had bulbar (ph) polio, which -- there was an epidemic going on in '52 and we were in Omaha, Nebraska. We had a television show there. This was right before my dad retired from music.

And I got this virus and it paralyzed -- I was really lucky, actually, because most of the hospitals were filled with polio patients, and it was all paralyzed lung, you know, function and legs. And mine hit my vocal chords -- for some reason, the left side of my throat and my face.

And, I -- eventually -- the doctors said I was a very lucky guy, and I eventually got over it. And -- but the thing that I couldn't do anymore -- the range in my voice kind of left me. I couldn't sing. I loved singing, but I wasn't able to sing anymore.

GROSS: So what's the connection between the polio and not being able to sing and learning to play bass?

HADEN: Well, I really don't know if there's a connection. I was playing bass before I had polio.

GROSS: Oh, I didn't realize that.

HADEN: I was playing my brother's bass. He wouldn't let me play his bass, but every time I could sneak into where he kept the bass, I would go in and play it, you know. And I loved playing the bass with records that we had. And then when I was 14 in Omaha -- I was in the ninth grade -- they had an orchestra at school at North High, and the orchestra director wanted me to play bass.

When he found out I played bass, he said "we need another bass in the bass section of the orchestra." And I said: "I can't read music." And he said: "well, I can teach you." So he took me down to the band room. His name was Sam Thomas (ph), I'll never forget it.

He showed me the first page of the Semano (ph) book -- the bass method book -- and all the open strings were there. And he said: "now, I want you to practice playing these with the bow. This is a 'g.' This is a 'd.' This is an 'a' and an 'e.'"

"And practice this while I'm gone and then we'll start on the half position and we'll go to the first position, to where you press down the strings, you know." And he said: "you're playing this anyway by ear, you know, with the little band you have here at school, but now you're going to know how to read it."

And I said: "great." So he left the room and I started getting real nervous, you know. I mean, I got this anxiety attack. I said "oh, my" -- you know, I looked at these notes and I was bowing and, you know, and all of a sudden, I thought I was having a heart attack. And you know, can you imagine having a heart attack at 14?

So man, I grabbed my chest and I put the bass down and I ran out in the hall to the water fountain and started drinking all this water. A couple of students came up to me -- my friends -- and "what in the world's happen -- wrong?" And I said: "I think I'm having a heart attack."

And they said: "Charlie, you're out of your mind. You're not having a heart attack." I said: "I think I am." And Sam Thomas came back and he was cracking up, man. He said: "you're not having a heart attack, Charlie. You're just, you know, learning how to read music."

GROSS: So did you finally overcome your...

HADEN: Yeah, yeah, oh, yeah, yeah. No, I played with the school orchestra. It was really great.

GROSS: That probably opened up a whole new world of music, too -- with music you'd only have access to if could read.

HADEN: Oh, yes. That's right.

GROSS: Well, Charlie, I'd like to go out with something from your new Quartet West album. And you end the album with something called "Now is the Hour." It's the title track of the record, and you say it's a Maori farewell song. How did you learn this song? And tell us something about it?

HADEN: I used to listen to this song on the radio during World War II. Bing Crosby recorded it and it sold millions of records. And Vera Lynn (ph), I believe, in England recorded it.

It was a very well-known song during World War II because it was -- it depicted, you know, the guy going off to war and his wife saying, you know, when you come back, I'll be waiting for you, but we must say good-bye now.

And I just love this song, and you know, I have a lot of songs that I have from my childhood that I'm saving up to do with whatever band that I hear it with, and this was one of them.

And then -- I was speaking to Alan Broadbent (ph), who's from New Zealand, about the song, and he said: "you know, that's a Maori folk farewell song." And I said: "well, I guess that's where it came from." You know, so I knew then that we had to do it, because Alan also was close to the song, and so we did.

GROSS: Would you sing the song as you remember it?

HADEN: Well, I'll try.

Now is the hour when we must say goodbye
Soon you'll be sailing far across the sea
While you're away, oh then remember me
When you return you'll find me waiting here

BOGAVE: Charlie Haden spoke with Terry Gross in 1996. Let's hear Now is the Hour from his album of the same name.

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, CHARLIE HADEN PERFORMING "NOW IS THE HOUR")

BOGAVE: Charlie Haden's Now is the Hour.

Dateline: Terry Gross, Philadelphia
Guest: Charlie Haden
High: Charlie Haden interview from 5/29/96.
Spec: History; Music Industry; People; Charlie Haden
Please note, this is not the final feed of record
Copy: Content and programming copyright (c) 1997 National Public Radio, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. under license from National Public Radio, Inc. Formatting copyright (c) 1997 Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to National Public Radio, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission. For further information please contact NPR's Business Affairs at (202) 414-2954
End-Story: Charlie Haden 1996
Show: FRESH AIR
Date: JULY 11, 1997
Time: 12:00
Tran: 071104NP.217
Type: FEATURE
Head: Poptopia
Sect: Entertainment
Time: 12:55

BARBARA BOGAVE (PH), HOST: In an interview in 1966, Pete Townshend was asked to name the sort of music "The Who" played. "Power pop is what we play," he answered. Townsend's term has since been applied to three decades of a certain kind of catchy rock song. Rhino Records has just put out a three CD collection of power pop touchstones called "Poptopia."

Rock critic Ken Tucker has a review.

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, "POPTOPIA")

SINGER: I don't even know the slightest about you
All I know is I can't live without you
I'd Try to give you the world,
If you wanted me to

If you come looking girl, you'll know that I find ya
(Unintelligible)
No need to look around
Since I finally found you

'Cause it's you
Baby, it's you
There ain't a single solitary thing about it
That you can do

KEN TUCKER, FRESH AIR COMMENTATOR: "Baby, It's You" is a power pop classic in a couple of ways. Beyond the fact that it's got an irresistible beat and a lot of energy, it was cut by someone who's no more than a footnote in rock history.

In the '70s, Phil Seymour (ph) was a key player in "The Dwight Twilly Band," (ph) itself a power pop cult band for the ages. Seymour put out a couple of solo albums, drummed for yet another fine power pop out fit, "The Textones," and he died of lymphoma in 1993.

Like the music itself, Seymour made his point and scrammed. He's a minor deity to '90s power poppers, like "The Jellyfish."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, SONG BY "THE JELLYFISH")

Though it's hard to admit it's true
I've come to depend on you
You and your angelic shout
Loud enough for two

And that is why
I've confided you the truth this time
That is why
I've just can't go on and live this lie

TUCKER: Pete Townshend may have coined the term, but "power pop" owes its real origins to the early "Beatles" and lesser mortals like "The Dave Clarke Five," "The Byrds," and "The Beau Brummels."

The salient characteristics of the genre are ringing guitars, keeningly high male lead voices, and lyrics that are primarily about being sensitive and heartbroken, whenever they're not about being heartbroken and bitter.

Listen to a song like "She Goes Out With Everybody," by "The Spongetones" (ph) from North Carolina, and you'll think you've stumbled across a lost Beatles single.

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP, "SHE GOES OUT WITH EVERYBODY" BY THE SPONGETONES)

SINGER: She's a (unintelligible) middle child that way
Screams and pushed from her family
She needed more than they could give
It takes much more than bread to live
She needed more than I could give

She goes out to get her pill
She goes out against her will
She goes out just for the thrill
She goes out with everybody
She goes out (unintelligible)
She goes out with everybody

TUCKER: The three CDs that make up Rhino Records Poptopia contain 54 examples of power pop. Listen to them in one sitting and you'll feel as if your brain has become encrusted in sugar.

Like any obsessive sub-genre, power pop is best taken in small doses, because it tends toward mannerism and baroque affectation, to say nothing of the occasional empty-headed nostalgia.

And now that I've stated these sensible warnings, I'll also say that along with funk music, this is my absolute favorite rock and roll subdivision. I love power pop's fervent emotionalism and fierce lack of pretension. I love the fact that it can yield a song as beautiful and poetic as "The Smithereens'" "Behind The Wall of Sleep."

(BEGIN AUDIO CLIP "BEHIND THE WALL OF SLEEP" BY THE SMITHEREENS)

Now I lie in bed and think of her
Sometimes I even weep
Then I dream of her behind the wall of sleep

Got you number from a friend of mine
Who lives in your home town
Called you up to have a drink
Your roommate said you weren't around
Now, I know I'm one of many
Who would like to be your friend
And I've got find the way
To let you know I'm not like them

Now, I lie in bed and think of her
Sometimes I even weep
Then I dream of her behind the wall of sleep

TUCKER: I could quibble with some of the selections on Poptopia -- the cut by the great Zion, Illinois "Shoes" (ph) is atypical and weak. And where is Los Angeles' brilliant contribution to '70s and '80s power pop, Walter Egan (ph)? This guy was the Raymond Chandler of the genre.

But that's the fanatic in me talking. Poptopia is as highly useful survey. Fans of rock subdivisions like to feel embattled; to feel that the big bad mass audience can never really appreciate the object of their veneration.

But at a time when neo-power poppers like "Oasis" and "Hansen" (ph) are actually being played on the radio, the utopia Poptopia may finally be achieved.

BOGAVE: Ken Tucker is critic-at-large for Entertainment Weekly. He reviewed a three CD collection of power pop songs called "Poptopia" by Rhino Records.

For Terry Gross, I'm Barbara Bogave.

Dateline: Ken Tucker; Barbara Bogave, Philadelphia
Guest:
High: Rock critic KEN TUCKER reviews "Poptopia," a collection of three decades of power pop.
Spec: Music Industry; History; Poptopia
Please note, this is not the final feed of record
Copy: Content and programming copyright (c) 1997 National Public Radio, Inc. All rights reserved. Transcribed by Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. under license from National Public Radio, Inc. Formatting copyright (c) 1997 Federal Document Clearing House, Inc. All rights reserved. No quotes from the materials contained herein may be used in any media without attribution to National Public Radio, Inc. This transcript may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission. For further information please contact NPR's Business Affairs at (202) 414-2954
End-Story: Poptopia
Transcripts are created on a rush deadline, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of Fresh Air interviews and reviews are the audio recordings of each segment.