When I asked Charlie how he enjoyed playing with Ginger, having collaborated with such master drummers as Billy Higgins, Ed Blackwell, Beaver Harris, and Paul Motian, he allowed as how it was really inspiring. And when I suggested that the chemistry might be much better for Ginger and Charlie with the innovative guitarist Bill Frisell, who besides being inspired by the likes of jazz masters Wes Montgomery, Johnny Smith, and Jim Hall, was like me, very much a spiritual acolyte of Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page. Charlie smiled and allowed as how I should set it up.
Ginger, Charlie & Bill [Ocean Way Studios, 1994]. Photo by Chip Stern
Thus, for some time did I have this bee in my bonnet, and while it took a couple of years to come to fruition, once I had a budget, and had cleared a space for a one week window of opportunity where everyone could make it to the renowned Ocean Way Studios in Los Angeles, things took on a life of their own. And while I put in a lot of time in preparation…creating, for instance, a series of compilation tapes of Bill, Charlie and Ginger for the three musicians to get acquainted, I discovered, much to my chagrin, that Ginger took a much more spontaneous view of things. When I queried him as to how much time he'd spent listening to my tapes, I discovered that he had not availed himself of an advance audition.
Aren't you interested in getting some idea of what Bill Frisell sounds like and what his conception is in anticipation of meeting up in the studio, Ginger?
"Not particularly, Chip. I'll show up with some music, and either they'll be able to play it, or they won't." O…Kay…
"That recording session was completely spontaneous," Ginger subsequently explained.
"We all showed up with some tunes, but otherwise—having never played together—it was all completely improvised…pure jazz in the best sense of that word. I reckoned it would either be a total disaster or something quite brilliant. It turned out to be a very stimulating, enjoyable session; the album sold well, got great reviews, and led to a lot more creative opportunities to play jazz.
Ginger Baker & Max Roach [Verona, 1995]. Photo by Chip Stern
Charlie, Bill and I got to play a very nice festival gig in Frankfurt, Germany the following year, and off of that Max Roach reached out to me to play with him, Tony Williams and the M'Boom Re: Percussion Ensemble in Verona, Italy, on the same bill as Keith Jarrett's trio with Gary Peacock and Jack DeJohnette. That was just a wonderful experience, and it was so gratifying to spend time bonding with Max and Tony, who had become very dear friends and were enormous influences on my music. We were scheduled to document that project with Max for Blue Note Records at a recording studio in New York, the first week of March, 1997, but a week before the session, Tony suddenly passed away, which was a great personal loss for me, and for the music."
Having relocated from the horse country just east of the mountains in Santa Barbara, to a small town in Palmer, Colorado, just outside of Denver, Ginger was able to translate his passion for horses, polo and jazz, into a series of events in which, after competing in a polo match (a sport for which Ginger had first developed an abiding and very expensive passion while living in Lagos, Nigeria), was followed by a concert event showcasing perhaps the best band Ginger ever had, including from time to time drummer Rudy Royston and guitarist Jerry Hahn, as well as mainstays Artie Moore on bass, the late Fred Hess on tenor saxophone, and trumpeter Ron Miles.
Ginger's love and respect for his musical director Ron Miles was something quite unique in my chronicles of the Ginger Baker Home Companion. Ron inspired the drummer not only to get off of his horses, get out the manuscript paper and compose a pair of striking originals for their upcoming recordings session, he inspired this most spontaneous of combustions to actually show up for…REHEARSALS. You can hear how completely Ginger bought into Ron's musical challenges on the shifting polymetric canvas of the trumpeter's "Jesus Loves Me," featuring a convulsive polyphonic free form episode between Miles and saxophone virtuosos Fred Hess and James Carter: "Incredible time changes," Ginger wrote admiringly. "But it isn't an aren't I clever piece—it really swings, with [Ron] playing his arse off…amazing."
So taken was Ginger with his musical director that Ron Miles' compositions were lovingly showcased on five of the seven tunes which made up Coward Of The County when it was released on Atlantic back in April of 1999—culminating in a triumphant week-long engagement at New York City's Iridium.
"We really blew them away on that gig," Ginger recalled proudly. "And when Max [Roach] came by to lend his support, well, that was quite special."
Ironically, just at the point Ginger was enjoying a peaceful life in Colorado and had finally geared up his own muse with a world-class jazz band of his own, once again, the train went off the rails, engendering yet another crushing blue condition. Why? Don't ask.
Apparently Ginger had bruised someone's feelings in Palmer's polo circles (the aforementioned coward of the county), and this dickweed went out of his way to stick it to Ginger by precipitating a nasty assignation with the immigration people over the status of a groom he'd hired to look after his horses, and before you knew it—the status of his own visa in peril—his marriage was coming apart at the seams, and Ginger felt compelled to bail on the United States, pulling up stakes and relocating (with all his horses) to South Africa.
Ginger Baker, Bill Frisell and Mick Fleetwood [Ocean Way 1994]. Photo by Chip Stern
It was while he was living in South Africa that he undertook a triumphant set of reunion concerts with Cream, as documented on CDs, DVDs and Blu-Ray Discs culled from four nights in the spring of 2005 at London's historic Royal Albert Hall, culminating in three sold-out evenings later that fall at New York's City's Madison Square Garden, where Ginger graciously comped me a pair of nice tickets for the final night of their engagement.
I was able to share this experience with my brother, who over the course of 37 years, had never given up on the ludicrous notion that Cream would one day reunite. We ended up sitting next to Madison Square Garden/New York Knickerbockers owner James Dolan, an erstwhile guitarist himself, and the concert was really inspiring to this long-time enthusiast, who had never heard the band live back during their brief two year run (although I made up for it by seeing the original Mahavishnu Orchestra around a dozen times during their own aborted two year run).
Ginger felt that his drumming had matured considerably since the band's salad days, and that the combustible youthful energy of their original conception had been superseded by a more supple kind of ensemble integrity and sensitive form of mutual support; listening more and freelancing less—something to be said, after all, for the reflective wisdom of experience.
And according to Ginger's daughter Nettie, Baker felt as though his Royal Albert Hall performance of "Toad" was the best he'd ever played on his drum showcase, and in Morse Code from across the pond, Ginger let me know how thrilled he by how tension-free and symbiotic their collective colloquy in London was.
