by osmosis

The discussion touching upon the dichotomy of Elvin Jones and Rashied Ali, who just passed away on August 12^th, in the various Coltrane ensembles of the ‘60s doesn’t have a natural end. And in effect, the two were so stylistically removed from each other that the debate about whose playing better fit Coltrane’s is pretty much moot. Both possessed a unique acumen behind the set as each was able to fit their bosses playing for a time.

Elvin Jones, though, might be a better known figure in general – despite the fact that Ali went on to perform with a huge list of folks including Thurston Moore for a few odd dates. After working on Coltrane’s early sixties output, this drummer, who eventually figured he wasn’t any longer the proper foil to the sax players increasingly disjointed fair, struck out on his own. Leading groups comprised of folks that are/were already legends as well as assembling some combos comprised of players that were just making a name for themselves, Jones began exploring music beyond acoustic jazz.

As the ‘70s dawned, with funk and soul making its impact on jazz, Jones found himself attempting to incorporate those elements into his work. Maintaining a brisk recording schedule, Jones put together ensembles, recorded and very frequently found himself amongst a new crop of players for his next session. The 1976 album Main Force and its ‘77 follow up, Time Capsule, for instance, only share a single performer in common. Despite the revolving door, though, Jones and company were able to concoct a set (mostly comprised by tunes written by alto sax player Bunky Green) that made use of jazz, funk and even a bit of what would become smooth jazz courtesy of soprano saxophonist Frank Foster.

There are those moments when a listener must wonder why? Parts of “Digital Display” prompt that thinking, but during brief passages on that offering, the band swings so hard it almost doesn’t matter. Elsewhere, though, the polyglot percussionist helps his band pull of some stringently devised compositions – the title track most noticeably.

But where there’s a Coltrane band alumni, there’s sure to be a grip of interesting work with the album’s closer, “Spacing,” providing such moments. The broadest drum solo is provided here as well as bringing to a close an album the found Jones achieving what he wanted with a group of performers that would, at some point, sit in with the drummer again. Time Capsule isn’t the highlight of Jones’ catalog, but it’s a telling piece of history from the decade after Coltrane changed the genre.