Home / Swan Songs: Jazz’s Greatest Last Recordings

Swan Songs: Jazz’s Greatest Last Recordings

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"Thank you very much, you make me feel so wonderful. It's been a pleasure being here but I really must go now, it's so hot." – Clifford Brown at the end of his final performance, June 25, 1956

Jazz history is full of personal tragedies; so many of the greats who for various reasons, left us far too soon. For some of these legends, the last music they made adds poignancy to their deaths, assuring fans to take solace in knowing they left us at the top of their game but also left us wondering where their music might have gone had they lived longer. I'm always loathe to declare absolutes in the "best" of anything, because I could end up disagreeing with myself later on and have probably forgotten about some other great records. But I'll offer up five selections that I regard as some of the finest codas in the jazz canon:

Eric Dolphy – Out To Lunch (1964): We begin with one of the more famous exits; this avant garde jazz masterpiece is rightfully considered Dolphy's crowning achievement. He started his career as a leader a mere four years earlier and was already stretching the boundaries of the bop conventions then. Every record since represented a discrete progression until he reached perfection with this record. Why is it so great? I think it has to do with his tenure at the time with Charles Mingus. Mingus was a master at looking ahead with his music while staying deeply rooted in jazz tradition.

Thelonius Monk was good at that, too. Dolphy tried for years but finally got it down with this record. And he found a willing young group of co-conspirators: 17 year old Tony Williams, then-unknown Bobby Hutcherson, Richard Davis, and an in-his-prime Freddie Hubbard. These guys seemed to take turns holding down the fort while the rest played completely free.

It was already well established that Dolphy could play a morbidly badass bass clarinet but here, even his flute sends chills down spines. The music sounded like acid-induced soundtracks for episodes of The Twilight Zone. And in 1964, everyone who heard this must have been trippin' out over it. Without the aid of drugs.

John Coltrane – Interstellar Space (1967): Slowly dying of liver cancer and already in some considerable pain by February of 1967, John Coltrane records a saxophone performance that would insure he'd go to his grave five months later with no one ever surpassing him, much less match him on the instrument. With only jingly bells and the equally fiery drums of Rashied Ali to accompany him, JC's next-to-final statement in the studio (the sessions for the full combo's Stellar Regions and Expression immediately followed) is an admittedly difficult listen and I didn't like it at all the first time I heard it.

But put in the context of the direction he was taking his music since "My Favorite Things," "Interstellar Space" was where he was headed all along. There was always a certain spirituality in his music from the time of "FMT" and gradually all elements of bop structure were peeled away from his music layer by layer until that spirituality was the only thing left standing. "Interstellar Space" is where the Trane arrived at the station.

Art Pepper – Goin' Home (1982): While Coltrane came to terms with his impending death by an outpouring of tumultuous, violent expression, Art Pepper prepared to meet his maker in a more quiet, introspective setting. But like Trane, he was joined by only one other player: the sublime and vastly underrated pianist George Cables. Using a collection of almost all standards, Pepper alternates between alto sax and clarinet to provide the living a sweetly low key set that finds the leader still in top form with his usual strong sense of melody. But his 56 year old body had been battered from years of hard living, despite having cleaned up and enjoying a remarkable renaissance. Sadly, one month later he was dead from a cerebral hemorrhage.

Bill Evans – Consecration (1980): This record documents a live engagement at San Francisco's Keystone Korner just a couple of weeks before years of drug abuse caught up with Evans. Backed by the sympathetic pair of Joe La Barbera on drums and Marc Johnson on bass, Evans played with a real passion that belied the bad shape he was said to be in at the time. Check out his lightning runs on "Someday My Prince Will Come". That's right, I said lightning runs in reference to Bill Evans. Bill was introspective and cerebral but he was never a wuss. He made damned sure no one would accuse him of leaving us that way, either.

Clifford Brown – The Beginning And The End (1952, 1956): Of all the tragedies I listed, this is perhaps the saddest. Clifford Brown's trumpet technique was already flawless and on par with Dizzy Gillespie, Fats Navarro and Miles Davis at age 25. Some would say it was already better than those cats by then. And in a profession riddled with drugs and booze, Clifford was the model for clean living. A mere four years into his recording history, Brown seemed destined for a long, highlight-filled career and poised to become the greatest jazz trumpet player of all time except for perhaps Louis Armstrong. But fate had other plans.

On the night of June 25, 1956, Brown played for his hometown crowd in Philadelphia before embarking on an overnight car trip to Chicago with his pianist friend Richie Powell and Powell's wife. The gig was recorded, and surprisingly well. Clifford played phenomenally, hitting every note right on and clearly so. He wrapped up the set with the simple remarks at the beginning of this article and then set out for Chicago with the Powells. But they never made it out of the state of Pennsylvania. Nancy Powell lost control of the car she was driving and crashed it. All three occupants perished. Listen to the promise contained in the last song Clifford ever played just hours before that promise was snuffed out on the Pennsylvania Turnpike:

Listen: Clifford Brown – Donna Lee.  (Note: This mp3 was ripped at a low rip rate and will be available for only about a week.)

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  • Mark Saleski

    nice! everybody should own a copy of Out To Lunch. seriously.

    Interstellar Space is a good one too. (also good for clearing the room of unwanted guests at the end of a party….;-) )

  • Nice… I’d also like to put in a good word for Albert Ayler’s NUITS DE LA FONDATION MAEGHT 1970 live concert recordings, made just four months before he was found dead in the East River.

  • LOL @ Mark…I wish Instellar Space would get rid of roaches, too!

    Steve, I thought of Fondation Maeght shorty after I submitted this article (told y’all my memory wasn’t great!). A great suggestion, especially since he had that bizarre about face change in his music in ’67 or ’68, only to change back a few months before dying under the most mysterious of circumstances. Oliver Stone would have a field day doing a movie on this dude’s life.

    A few that didn’t quite make the cut but I thought about are:
    Tony Williams “Young At Heart”
    Rahsaan Roland Kirk “Boogie-Woogie String Along for Real”
    Bill Evans “Live At The Village Vanguard” (for Scott LaFaro)
    Cannonball Adderley “Phenix”

    What are some other ones I left out, anyone?

  • Perhaps… Stan Getz: People Time

  • Mark Saleski

    Invitation – Jaco Pastorious

  • Mark Saleski

    …and then there’s the last great Miles record.

    ok, i don’t feel like startin’ a fight. have at it!

    Star People.

    i honestly don’t know. there are moments of brilliance in almost all of the stuff after that.

  • I love Star People! I almost agree that it was the last great Miles…but I am also fond of Aura, too.


  • I’m sorry, but Agharta / Pangaea was the last great Miles. What re-emerged as “Miles” five years after that was sort of somebody else…. interesting, sure… but not great…. even Aura is pretty much a confused mess with a few moments of beauty….. and no, I don’t wanna start a fight either, but I’m just sayin….

  • Anybody know what Ellington’s last recording was? Was it the Third Sacred Concert? It was certainly very near the end…

  • Alright, a fight!

    I’m sorry too, man, but Aura was anything but confused; it’s gotten it’s accolades for being focused, if for nothing else (even if it’s really Mikkelborg’s record with Miles guesting on it). And any album with both Sco and Stern on it can’t be anything less than great. There’s a law somewhere that says that, I just know it.

    At least nobody here is saying Doo Bop is da schnitz. At least not yet ;&)


  • Vern Halen

    Ascension is a much better room clearer than Interstellar Space.

  • JR

    Re: Bill Evans’s Consecration

    The Last Waltz set comes from the same engagement – I think Consecration is afternoon sets, The Last Waltz is the evening sets.

    The bass solo on the Wednesday night version of “Nardis” is phenomenal.

  • Ascension is also a much better album than Interstellar Space.

  • Allen Michie

    Not strictly jazz, but whatever: Ray Charles’s “Genius Loves Company” has moments that send chills down your spine, and they all come from Ray.

    Also, Billie Holiday’s “Lady in Satin.” And I agree with Stephen’s comment above about Getz’s “People Time.” (What was Zoot Sims’ last recording? He was sounding better than ever in his final years.)

    Miles Davis’ last recording is the track “Hannibal” from “Live Around the World,” and it has a masterful solo.