David Barsalou, columnist for Not So Modern Drummer, celebrates the life and music of Legendary Drummer Tony Williams in our new ongoing series. Chapter One will feature personal recollections and heartfelt commentary from Todd Sucherman of STYX.
Tony Williams. Much has been written about this man who changed the face of drumming (and music) a few times in his short life. You can spend your entire life on his work with Miles Davis from 1963 to ’69 alone, famously beginning his gig with Miles at the age of 17.
Much has also been written about his Tony Williams Lifetime group and the New Lifetime, where his 1975 record “Believe it” became a monolith in modern fusion drumming… Introducing the world to guitarist Allan Holdsworth. But, I’d like to take a few minutes and talk about his Blue Note Records period in the 1980s and 90s, and what seeing him meant to me…It still reverberates very strongly to this day. If I may continue for a bit…
I often ask younger drummers if they are hip to Tony, and many are not. “You have a lot of homework to do but it will be fun and challenging” I’ll tell them. I describe what it must have been like to see him in 1964 (before I was born) as an absolute laser from the future, yet steeped in the idiosyncratic traditions on the drum set. It would have been like taking Michael Jordan in his prime and putting him in the NBA in 1953. So, there’s the whole Miles Davis era and I recommend “Four and More, My Funny Valentine - the Complete Concerts”, ”Nefertiti” and really… Just get all of them.
But, Tony began studying composition and released “Foreign Intrigue” on Blue Note with his quintet in 1985. Now, the old Jazz Showcase was located in the Blackstone Hotel on South Michigan Avenue in Chicago. It’s where all the jazz luminaries played and I saw everyone there— Elvin Jones, Jack DeJohnette, Roy Haynes, and so on… But I’ll stay on point here with Tony Williams. I should mention that the Jazz Showcase still exists - but in a different location.
Tony and his band would come through the Jazz Showcase usually twice a year in those days and they’d play Wednesday through Sunday. I would go every time they came through town for two nights and stay for both sets. I did this every year from 1985 to 1994 roughly. Seeing Tony play with his quintet in this beautiful art deco room as a teenager in a sport coat—all dressed up feeling like an adult—are some of my dearest musical memories. The owner, Joe Segal, allowed underage people in the club to expose the younger generations to the music. (You couldn’t order a drink, but you could hang out there.) It was always great going downtown with my older pals, and then when I got my drivers license I could go myself, always with other friends. I remember taking my mother there, and my brothers too, who were no strangers to the Jazz Showcase.
But, Tony… Hearing him in that room. He would always start out with a solo piece and it felt like it was fight or flight— the hair would rise up on your arms. Primal. Scary. Loud. Resonant. Uniquely him, so much of his authentic self in every note… The coolest and the deepest 24” inch bass drum with three floor toms in THAT room. The softest whisper to the loudest roar… Grooving, swinging with explosive punctuations. The sound is seared into my memory for the rest of my life. I would watch the first set from the front and then I’d move to his hi-hat side for the second set. I was so close, I could have leaned over, reached out and touched his left knee -- I was that close.
I got to SEE TONY WILLIAMS THAT CLOSE over twenty times easily. My heart really breaks for drummers who never saw him live because that feeling of being in the room with Tony cannot come within a universe of being replicated on YouTube clips— or even the records.
This is why I tell people to get off their butts and SEE & HEAR people in person while they still happen to be alive. There’s nothing like the live experience and there was nothing like Tony Williams.
Tony released a series of records on Blue Note From 1985 to ’95 and became one of my favorite jazz composers as well. His writing ranged from complex to simple, elegant and truly beautiful. The double live “Tokyo” record is a nice document of this band in a club setting and should be in every drummer’s library.
And it was a BAND. It was always Mulgrew Miller on piano, Wallace Roney on trumpet, Billy Pierce on saxophone, and a rotating line up of bass players. Really, if you are a drummer and you aren’t hip to Tony— it’s sort of like not knowing about The Beatles, Stones or The Who… or something along those lines. I don’t know… but his premature death at just 51 has me thinking about him, as I’ll be turning 51 later this year… I always think of Tony in February as he died on the 23rd.
Tony was always nice to me and I’d shake his hand and say something like, “Beautiful.” “Thank you” he’d reply and smile. I know that there are a lot of stories about Tony not being particularly warm and fuzzy, but he was always pleasant to me.
Around 1995 he was set to play the Park West with Jan Hammer and it was the first electric thing he’d done in many years. My dear friend, Chris Markos, called me the morning of the show saying that there was a “Tony Williams Clinic” in the early afternoon at Drums LTD (when it was on Jefferson Street, and not the famous Wabash Ave location.) Chris and I went down there and it was not a clinic at all. It was more of a very uncomfortable gathering where Tony sat down behind a table and there were 30 or 40 drummers just standing around him. As I remember there were no pens, no cards or posters, just Tony and a table.
It was silent and incredibly uncomfortable. Finally someone yelled out, “Tell us about Miles.” Tony snapped back with, “I don’t want to talk about Miles” and took out a cigar and lit it. I could not stand the uncomfortable vibe in the room and I just started talking with him. I don’t even remember what I said because it was so painful in that room. But, we had a nice chat for about 10 minutes that was observed by the others there. I do remember that he was talking about working on a book. A series of books actually— that would or could be a college curriculum. He finally got up and came around the table and shook my hand. “It was nice talking with you” he said. “I’ll be at the show tonight” I replied. “I’ll keep an eye out for you” Tony said warmly.
Tony died two years later after routine gall bladder surgery at an understaffed hospital late on a Sunday night at the young age of 51. Totally preventable from what I understand. I’m profoundly sad at all the music that we’ll never hear—his writing was prolific. His drumming was singularity unique, and he’s the father of the school of drumming that touches my soul the most. And I’ll always wonder about his series of books he was working on. It was February 24th 1997 and I was about to record “On My Way” with Styx when I found out that Tony had died. We were at Gary Loizzo’s studio doing 3 songs that were to be on the Return to Paradise Live album. Chuck Panozzo came in with the clipping out of the Chicago Tribune with the news he had died the night before. I was stunned and went in the kitchen to call my drumming pals Chris, Mike and Andy. Then I had to go play.
So what does Tony Williams mean to me? He was a bridge to all the players that came before him, steeped in the deep history of my chosen instrument. His playing changed the landscape of everything that came after him. Peter Erskine described him this way: “His playing was a post card from the future saying-- here’s what’s possible on the drums. Wish you were here.” I hear those Blue Note records and I’m a teenager or young adult again, and I close my eyes and I’m back at the Jazz Showcase with my whole life ahead of me.
Tony represents that open road, all the possibilities of life, and is a reminder to be your authentic self. I’m so grateful I was able to witness this giant so many times— It’s truly a musical experience embarrassment of riches. He left a rich legacy that will be studied and cherished as long as there are people on this earth. Those nights at the Jazz Showcase will resonate within me for the rest of my life.
Thanks, Tony.
I would also like to acknowledge that jazz great Wallace Roney who played with The Tony Williams Quintet from 1985 on - passed away on March 31st, 2020 of the Covid-19 virus -- He was 59. Wallace was a Grammy award-winning trumpeter who was mentored by Miles Davis.
- Todd Sucherman