In a 1965 interview with French journalist Philippe Carles, Steve Lacy was asked which musician was most important to him. His answer: Duke Ellington. “He’s been the king of music,” said Lacy, “and he still is.” If it seems like an unexpected answer from a guy who’d been playing a lot of Monk themes, his explanation helped. “If he’s influenced me, it’s in every way possible.”
A closer look at his records to that point also show this influence. His debut, Soprano Sax, had two Ellington tunes: “Day Dream” and “Rockin’ In Rhythm.” In the meantime, he’d recorded an album of Monk’s material and then spent a stint in Monk’s band, but I suppose Ellington was never too far from his mind. And so, on Nov. 1, 1961, Lacy hit the studio with three other musicians and recorded two Ellington numbers.
Evidence is one of Lacy’s more esoteric records. For one, it had his most unusual lineup yet: Don Cherry on trumpet, Carl Brown on bass, and Billy Higgins behind the kit. He’d been listening to Ornette Coleman, who had a similar two-horn, no piano lineup in his band, and liked what he’d heard. “He’s not set in a mold,” said Lacy in the album’s liner notes. “Don is full of surprises, and I bet he often surprises himself.”
Evidence opens with “The Mystery Song,” and its slow, winding theme. Lacy and Cherry play together, their sound not quite blending but giving it an eerie vibe. Higgins plays a hard-swinging rhythm, pushing the band along while Brown’s bass keeps things grounded. When Lacy steps up for the first solo, he gets a nice reedy tone. He plays little phrases, probing around like he’s still trying to shed his early influences, but overall it’s a tasteful if short solo. Cherry then enters, also playing like he’s holding back and trying to find his footing with this group.
Things immediately click on the second number, a performance of Monk’s song “Evidence.” The two horns play Monk’s almost jagged theme like its little dots of sound. Cherry immediately launches into a solo that’s energetic, and there’s some interesting moments where Lacy plays little bursts behind him, like a pianist comping. His solo is interesting too: he plays little ideas, then varies them up like he’s woodshedding new ideas on the fly.
Side one ends with “Let’s Cool One,” another Monk theme. Lacy and Cherry play a theme that slowly ascends skyward, like a winding staircase. In their solos the two of them start to play off each other, like they’re each playing separate melodies. It gives the music an edgy sense of adventure before Cherry stretches out for a lengthy solo. Lacy comes in about halfway through the song, with a solo where he also takes his time between long phrases and quick little bursts that are almost bird-like in sound. Although it’s certainly not as adventurous as they’d later get, they both take come chances here that pay off.
The back half opens with another Monk theme: “San Francisco Holiday.” “When that first came out on a Monk album, it was called Worry Later,” says Lacy in the liners. “But that’s the wrong title.” I suppose he’d know better than most. It’s a chippy, almost upbeat number where Lacy and Cherry almost trade off the theme, each alternating quick little patterns. Cherry’s solo shows him hitting full stride, tearing off riffs with a cool sense of ease and seeming pretty confident in his playing. Lacy’s solo has a similar vibe, with him working in the lower registers and then going up high, working the full range of his horn. It’s a nice performance from both.
Cherry sits out the next one, a performance of Duke Ellington/Billy Strayhorn’s “Something to Live For.” In the liners, Lacy says he was particularly influenced by Jean Eldridge’s singing in a 1939 recording of this song. Maybe that has something to do with his solo where he gently glides along, mixing longer notes with little bursts like they’re accents. He does play the song faster than Ellington’s band did and the rhythm section swings harder, but I feel like I can hear the influence. It’s a good example of how quickly Lacy’s playing was maturing in the early 1960s.
Evidence closes with one final Monk number: “Who Knows.” In the liners, Lacy gushes over the way Monk composes his tunes but one needn’t read to appreciate this one. Over a quick tempo, Lacy and Cherry almost chase each other through a twisting theme. Lacy steps up for the first solo and plays with gusto. When Cherry takes his turn, he plays at a slighter slower pace: instead of quick bursts, he works around with longer phrases and reaches a pretty high register with his trumpet - was he playing his pocket trumpet on this one? I’m not sure; the liners are vague on that. Near the end of the song, Lacy and Cherry start trading fours and eventually start playing at the same time before coming together to reprise the theme. It’s pretty cool.
“Friendship can be more important than anything else,” says Lacy in the liner notes. “If you can get along with the men you’re playing with and establish a relationship, the music will reflect that chemistry.” And indeed, you can hear that friendship between Cherry and Lacy throughout this record. The two of them take chances, play riffs off the other, sometimes even try to crowd the other one out. But mostly everything here clicks. While the two of them didn’t record much in the following years, their friendship did result in this record, which is something of an overlooked gem - it was long out of print in the US. It’s the first one where Lacy took some chances. He’d soon take an even bigger one and decamp to Europe, where he’d spend most of the rest of his career.