Phil Woods, 1931-2015

Phil Woods, in 1999

Even though the math is obvious, I have difficulty accepting the fact that the second generation of important jazz artists are now mostly gone. As Phil Woods stated in our interview “I was the last generation to come up and actually learn from the masters direct.”

Phil passed away on September 29 at the age of 83. He was the most respected saxophonist remaining of this second generation of musicians who really lived the jazz life. He proudly carried the bebop torch and drew a distinction between himself and the real innovators, preferring to be considered an accomplished craftsman. During interviews, Phil moved effortlessly from philosopher to curmudgeon, and his opinions carried the same weight as his recordings did.

MR: A couple of weeks ago when we had a brief conversation on the phone, you said you were taking time these days to do some writing and reflecting. What do you reflect and write on these days?

PW: How lucky I am to make a living doing something I love to do; having a wonderful, supportive family; living in a wonderful part of the world where a lot of young people know who Charlie Parker was and John Coltrane. Delaware Water Gap [Pennsylvania], you might not be aware of it, but this venerable institution we’re sitting in right now, The Deer Head Inn, has had jazz for over 50 years. They run at least three nights a week — Friday and Saturday and they usually have a matinee type thing on Sunday, and there’s been some great jazz played here. I remember one night, a jam session here, there must have been ten, fifteen saxophone players. And I said to Rick Chamberlain and Ed Joubert, we should move this outside. This was about 22 years ago. And that led to the stage across the street. We have a celebration of the arts which is held every year. So I was reflecting on all these good things that are going on.

MR: Do you feel jazz is healthier today than it has been in the past?

PW: No, not really healthier. I don’t mean to paint a bleak picture, but jazz seems to have lost its cutting edge, it seems to be in a regressive mode activated somehow. I mean jazz just goes on, and it’s never been so alive and well, we’ve never had so many kids playing music, and this is a positive thing. I don’t mean to negate the import of a kid picking up an instrument because if he’s got an instrument in his mouth he’s probably less liable to buy an assault rifle. I mean I think music is good. Any cutting back of funds for music education is a big mistake, which we’re also getting involved in. But the idea of jazz being alive and well, every campus has a jazz program, every school has a jazz program. But I don’t hear it. I mean I was the last generation to come up and actually learn from the masters direct. My first band was Quincy Jones and Dizzy Gillespie and I got a chance to really one-on-one with the masters. I’m not indicting jazz education, I think it’s a good thing. But a university should reflect the needs of society. And society doesn’t need quite as many tenor players as we’re graduating. I’d like to find a gig for all of those tenor players. Now the jazz gigs, I mean everybody’s still playing “Scrapple from the Apple” and “Stella By Starlight” and the old war horses, which is fine and good. But jazz should be more cutting edge. Jazz should be more now. I don’t hear anybody doing like what Dolphy did or what Ornette did. I love what John Zorn is doing. I don’t know if you call it jazz. But I think the musician of the future is not going to be just a jazz type of person. I think it’s going to be more — a typical set might be a tango, an Astor Piazzolla, a bossa nova, some pygmy music from Africa, a little Charlie Parker, a little pre-Archie Shepp. I mean it’s kind of become so collated and codified that everybody now has the same Real Book the same fake books. This is good but it should be more aggravating, it should stick in the craw. It’s too acceptable. It’s lacking color and it’s lacking a bit of humor. It doesn’t quite have the humor. Where are the Zoot Sims and the Al Cohn, like that. In Copenhagen they said, “Al, have you tried the elephant beer?” And Al came back and said, “I drink to forget, man.” I mean I don’t hear that. I mean God bless the kids, but too many three-piece suits and managers.

You can read more quotes from Phil in JazzTales from Jazz Legends. If you enjoy this blog you will love the book. It’s available now on Amazon.