A Coryell State of Mind

I hesitate to begin with the late great Larry Coryell. From 1966 until his death in 2016, he was the best guitarist on the planet, not strictly on a technical sense, although the case could be made that his knowledge of jazz, rock, Brazilian, classical, Indian and other styles qualified him for that title. Simply, Larry Coryell was the most generous guitarist, not only a superb recording artist who forged new styles, but who shared his enthusiasm for the instrument more than any other player. He was a teacher and a role model, moving past his own troubles to tutor and help anyone who ever asked.

Larry set out to be a journalist, only playing guitar in high school and college as a side gig. He learned how to read music while at college, which in the early 1960s was still a very important tool, especially if you wanted to be a jazz musician. Gigging with jazz musicians during his time at the University of Washington, he was encouraged to move to New York City, make the leap to professional. He did in September 1965. It took no time before he was deep into the jazz scene.

First with Chico Hamilton, then with Gary Burton, Larry immediately became an in-demand sideman in the jazz world. That is an important distinction; Coryell always remained at heart (and in his business model) a jazz player. His style was a little different, more trebly and biting than Wes Montgomery or Kenny Burrell, more fluid and inventive than Grant Green. He was the new thing in jazz guitar, but it didn't have a name yet.

There was never just one project; side tangents and guest spots in the jazz tradition were a constant throughout Larry's career. Although the Gary Burton gig was prestigious if an odd fit - delicate vibes against loud feedback guitar - it was the squalid East Village ghetto of musicians where Coryell felt most at home. In 1966, well ahead of the curve,  With like-minded next generation jazzbos like Bob Moses, Chris Hills and Jim Pepper, he formed the Free Spirits, combining rock, psych, folk and jazz in a vain attempt to get on the charts.

The project was typical Coryell; ahead of its time, signed to the wrong label, underfunded, temporary. It was also Ground Zero for the fusion of rock and jazz, predating Miles Davis, Larry Young or John McLaughlin by at least three years. More interesting was Count's Rock Band, a loose amalgamation of East Village musicians creating a much better mix of rock and jazz, taking long solos, treating rock songs like jazz standards. Although released on different labels, the two Count's Rock Band albums are cutting edge, even to this day.

Larry continued to appear on a dizzying number of albums as a session musician or guest artist, including with artists like Herbie Mann, Randy Brecker and Jimmy Webb. While normally floating from label to label with releases, he did manage to have a string of released from Vanguard Records. More important, Vanguard had a studio in the Village, Apostolic , so it was easy for Coryell to show up and record. Unfortunately, they were an odd fit, not knowing what to do with an artist trailblazing new paths between jazz and rock.

Typical of the situation was the album 'Spaces', featuring John McLaughlin and Billy Cobham, both before the Mahavishnu Orchestra, as well as Miroslav Vituos and Chick Corea. The defining jazz rock guitar summit to this day, the label just dumped it, having to re-release it with another cover after the Mahavishnu Orchestra became a huge international hit. Larry was there first, but didn't get the credit. No that he cared, off to record the next session, probably for another label.

With a wife and two kids, Larry was living like a rock star but playing jazz. The most famous story about his talent and taste was the session in May 1968, when he was supposed to play on 'Voodoo Chile', the slow bluesy version on 'Electric Ladyland'. A little late, he set up his amp while the rest of the band was playing. When Jimi Hendrix asked him to join, he declined. It sounded fine just the way it was, he wasn't need; he sat on his amp and watched them play instead. Not many people would turn down an offer to be on a Jimi Hendrix album.

He didn't look like a rock star; horn rim glasses and a too-easy smile made him accessible, even if his level of musicianship did not. He developed bad habits, drugs and lots of drinking, but there was a fundamental discipline that kept him going. He always included acoustic guitar numbers, even when stuff started to get really loud around the time of the 11th House in 1973. That band was a late attempt to match his main competition, John McLaughlin. Again, it made him look like a latecomer to the genre he invented.

His session work continued, with Charles Mingus, Stephan Grappelli, Sonny Rollins, and Chet Baker. A monthly column of guitar instruction was started in 1977 for Guitar Player magazine, continuing for twelve years, totally well over a hundred articles, books, videos, and eventually an excellent autobiography, 'Improvising', probably the only such book that came with guitar lessons and a free CD. Even his wife wrote perhaps the first (only?) book about the genre while it was happening, 'Jazz-Rock Fusion', in 1978.

Despite the discipline and hard work, Larry's lifestyle was starting to take its toll. As he describes in his autobiography, there were parts of his life that he had no memory of, such as playing with Jack Bruce and Mitch Mitchell for an entire tour. Even the older musicians were telling him to tone it down. The opportunity to play with John McLaughlin and Al Di Meola was subverted by too many hangovers. By the 'Standing Ovation', Larry is looking a little rough.

Rehabilitation meant moving away from the electric stuff, which he had been doing for years, especially on his duets albums with Philip Catherine. He was spending huge amounts of time touring in Europe in between guitar lessons and a constant string of releases on as many labels as would have him. It was a deep dive into classical music, challenging himself with Ravel's 'Bolero' or Stravinsky's 'Le Sacre Du Printemps', an impossible piece to play on guitar. Yet he managed it while also exploring more straight-ahead jazz in quartets during the 1980s.

By the end of the decade, Larry was hip deep in both Brazilian and Indian music, genres that he had explored earlier but where now he achieved mastery. The barrage of projects, each one unique and different, kept coming, including an ill-advised flirtation at CTI Records with smooth jazz (Rudy Van Gelder engineer, somebody probably likes it). The surprise was near the end of the 1990s, when Coryell took up loud electric guitar again after a twenty year gap, going back to the fusion trenches.

The fire was still, as was the technique; Coryell could replicate his own style from any period, something that even John McLaughlin can't do. Scorch earth policy ruled on CDs like 'Cause & Effect', exploratory fusion on 'Count's Jam Band Reunion', along with continued straight ahead playing on 'New High'. The product came even faster in the new millennium; finally, the public was starting to realize what a treasure he was, an irreplaceable musician.

As Larry grew older, he grabbed every opportunity to play, teach, and record. There were new ventures, such as a couple of hard fusion albums with Lenny White and Victor Bailey that showed spectacular playing and sympathy. There was new explorations of acid jazz/funk with the Wide Hive Players, digging deeper into rhythm and ensemble playing than ever before. There was even a reformation of the 11th House with Aphonse Mouzon and Randy Brecker.

Best of all, Larry kept spreading the word, preaching about music, his love of guitar. Many of his children became musicians, especially son Julian Coryell, an exceptional guitarist in his own right. Julian took it upon himself to remind the world just how influential and important his dad was, organizing a retrospective that included a reunion between Larry and the great Bernard 'Pretty' Purdie. Watching these two groove together after over thirty years apart is pure joy.

Larry Coryell finally went to the big jam in the sky in 2017 during the second of three nights at the Iridium in New York City. It was fitting; Larry was first and foremost a gigging jazz player, always in search of the next thing, always exploring the possibilities of the guitar. He was simply the best of his generation, both in technique and taste, overcoming his personal obstacles while spreading his love of guitar to anyone within earshot. No one could play more styles with such mastery yet always leave room for the other players.

The legacy he left behind is huge, both as a recording artist and as a teacher. No one was more free with advice and tips, revealing all his secrets. A true jazz man with an exploratory heart, there are over one hundred albums and CDs on dozens of labels released around the world, plus hundreds more as a guest on other people's work. I gladly seek each and every one out, each one a gem carbved from pure talent.