Reggie Workman On Working With John Coltrane

As part of the heralded release Evenings at the Village Gate: John Coltrane with Eric Dolphy, Reggie Workman penned an essay for the liner notes. Reggie is one of the greatest jazz bassists to ever live, and he began work with Coltrane at a pivotal moment in his career. uDiscover is proud to present this excerpt from his essay, which sheds new light on their relationship.

It was February 1961 when I first joined John Coltrane‘s group. Very soon after that, he started experimenting with a second bassist. It happened a few times, like in Chicago with Donald Garrett (who also subbed for me when I got blisters on my right hand from playing so hard) and at the Cork N’ Bib, and then at the Village Gate with Art Davis. I believe his idea of using two basses was an extension of a number of things, including what was happening with Chicago musicians, and mainly from listening to African music a lot. He would say, “We’re going to have you and Art play like a drum choir” – so diatonically in tune, the way drums have overtones but not necessarily in tune with the horns. One of us keeping the groove, the other exploring and complementing what was happening with the horns. Being a classical player, Art would be at the top of the bass, playing in the thumb position, while I was keeping the groove, the foundation.

When we worked together, people would ask John to play tunes they had heard on a recording he had done two or three years before, while his musical concept had moved forward. I used to ask him questions about that. He said, “By the time people get hip to what I’m about today, my mind’s going to be somewhere else.” That’s how he worded it. I’ve kept those words with me as a lesson. He let me know that he was constantly willing to give up things that he did yesterday and move on to the next phase. He realized that it was very necessary for the music to be recorded and come out very, very quickly, for the people to hear where he was today, so he started to put that in his recording contract.

I’m sure if it were completely up to him, John would have been moving a lot faster. He knew that if the people didn’t hear what he was doing, they’d still be asking him to play “My Favorite Things.” But notice he was the type of person who would reach out and grab people by the hand and give them some kind of key to what he was doing – some familiar melody, or familiar mode, or familiar raga. Something that people could relate to. John took “My Favorite Things” and put a vamp on it and was able to give people enough of the melody so that he could then give them a message in the open section of the tune. It worked so well that he said, “Maybe I’ll try that again later on, with some other things.” And he did, with tunes like “Greensleeves,” “Inch Worm” and “Chim Chim Cheree.”

When we were on the road, there were times when we had rooms next to each other and I’d hear him all night because I used to stay up and practice. He’d be blowing into his instrument, not making any sound but working the keys. There were times I would knock on his door, and he would be reading books while practicing – books about philosophy, the universal aspects of life, the spiritual aspects of existence. He understood a lot about celestial orchestration.

Often John used to tell me: “Listen, don’t ever stop growing. Don’t ever stop moving. Don’t ever stop creating.” John was a man of few words, so every word weighed a ton. You had to mostly figure him out by how he was living, by what he was creating. You can hear it in his music. You can realize it by the way he titled his compositions. This is a person to pay attention to. Then you will get the message if you’re ready for it, as Hindu philosophy teaches us. If not, you’ve got to go back and prepare and come that way again, OK?

Listen to Evenings At The Village Gate: John Coltrane With Eric Dolphy now.