Artist Profile, Don't Git Weary... Max Roach at 100

“...Sometimes the music is used, say, to make people feel happy and joy[ful] but on some occasions, we do use the music as a weapon against man's inhumanity toward man.” — Max Roach

Many drummers have rumbled onto the global stage over the course of the past century, but none have left their mark quite like Max Roach. In fact, to label the American musician, who was born 100 years ago this week, simply as a ‘drummer’ would be to drastically understate the mighty influence he held during his career as well as his enduring legacy.

A pivotal figure in the development of post-war jazz, Roach was routinely called-on as a collaborator to the many ascendent figures of the East Coast scene, frequenting jazz clubs in Manhattan throughout his early years. Born in North Carolina to a gospel-singing mother, young Max’s upbringing in a musical household in Brooklyn saw him pick up the military bugle and, by ten years old, the drums. His first studio engagement took place in 1943, backing Coleman Hawkins at the tender age of 19.

As a New York-native, Roach was there for it all, often joining in arms with the top-ranking musicians of the day. Perhaps the most significant relationship he would develop was with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, the two figures at the forefront of the emerging new sound called bebop. Alongside them, Roach quickly became known for his expansion of the rhythmic and melodic range of the drums. Known for his stylistic extremes, Roach could easily set the tone of any chart with his rambunctious energy as well as he could match the gentle demands of more laid-back swing with his impressive brushwork. More than an accompanist, any recording to contain Roach’s masterful and self-confident rhythms is instantly recognisable for its level of competent groove amidst its brow-beating demonstrations of percussive vigour.

His unique instrumental voice would be brought to the masses following his appearance at what would later become known as ‘the greatest concert ever’, Jazz at Massey Hall (1953). Considered by many to be the culmination of the modern jazz styles that had developed over the previous decade, this turning point gig also featured the rhythm section of Bud Powell and Charles Mingus, underpinning what was to be the final meeting between Bird and Diz.

Musically, his finest hour came (although we’ll be saying that a lot) in the form of his collaborations with Clifford Brown during the early fifties in California, where Roach had assumed the drum-chair with the Lighthouse All Stars. Much like their contemporaries The Jazz Messengers, the Brown/Roach Quintet was focused on exploring the boundaries of bop, an experiment that would result in some of the finest exemplary performances of the era before the trumpeter’s untimely death. Venturing into uncommon metres years before Dave Brubeck ever timed out, you can hear this kind of free-spiritedness from Roach on another live recording, Mingus at the Bohemia (1956).

Another testament to his greatness is his admirable list of credits on some of the most important jazz recordings of the 20th century: Sonny Rollins’ Saxophone Colossus (1957), Thelonious Monk’s Brilliant Corners (1957) and Duke Ellington’s Money Jungle (1962), to name but three heavy contenders. Each of these albums were complete game-changers for these artists, altering the regard in which they were held for the better… but, it’s safe to say, these classics might not have achieved as much of their impact without Roach’s attentive sidemanship and initiative in the studio. Witness his expert time-keeping here, in a snippet from a 1960 performance at Ahmad Jamal’s Alhambra club in Chicago:

One particular attribute of Roach’s career which became inseparable from his musical activity as time progressed was his commitment to civil rights activism, which properly commenced with the recording of We Insist! (1960), itself an artistic response to the centenary of Abraham Lincoln’s ‘Emancipation Proclamation’. As this social movement and the tensions surrounding it grew, so did Roach’s criticism of racial inequality in his work. In 1970, he formed the visionary M’Boom, an all-star jazz percussion orchestra which introduced a family of both tuned and untuned instruments into the genre’s lingo.

In a move to acknowledge contributions by people of African descent in 1986, Lambeth Council named a green space in Brixton in honour of the musician – the opening of which coincided with Roach’s GLC-sponsored trip to London. In 1990, he was awarded an honorary doctorate from the Manhattan School of Music, the very same alma mater where he had studied classical percussion so many years earlier.

Feel free to hit that Roach below... 

Read our full review of Saxophone Colossus here...

Read our full review of Money Jungle here...