Charles Mingus was one of the greatest figures in all of jazz. His musical career stretched from big band to the be-bop days of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie through the years of avant-garde and fusion. He had a notoriously short temper and was known to berate and even fire his musicians on the spot, yet he also encouraged new musicians and forms of expression with his series of Jazz Workshops.

Though he dabbled a little on piano, he was predominantly known as a bass player, who some say revolutionized the instrument within a jazz framework. Even so, it is not so much his bass playing that makes Charles Mingus a renowned figure within the jazz world, but his compositions and groups that he led. Of these groups, I think the best were the ensembles, which usually ranged from eight to eleven members.

At his creative peak, his music was sort of an experimental tangent to Duke Ellington, in my opinion. But some critics felt that he was pushing beyond the boundaries that contained jazz. What all the excitement was about, I really can’t see. The music world has evolved so much in the last 50 years that I find Mingus’ music relatively easy to get into. Anyway, partly as an answer to critics who said he couldn’t swing, and partly in response to a challenge from Atlantic Records producer Neshui Ertegun, Charles Mingus decided to dive into the rich musical heritage that he grew up with, and recorded the 1959 album Blues and Roots.

Like the title says, it is an album heavily soaked in the blues as well as a return to Mingus’, and jazz’, roots. Several notable jazz artists help out on this interesting package, including Jackie McLean and John Handy on alto sax, Booker Ervin on tenor sax, Pepper Adams on baritone sax, Horace Parlan on piano, and Dannie Richmond on drums. To top it off, Mingus added two trombone players, Willie Dennis and Jimmie Knepper, a mainstay in many of Mingus’ bands.

Mingus opens the album with a short bass solo on the song “Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting.” As the title would imply, the song is rooted in the church, specifically a Black gospel choir. Mingus whoops and shouts on this number, and indeed throughout the whole album, as if moved by the Holy Spirit. After the theme, McLean takes the first solo and hits several high notes like he is reaching up to the rafters. Parlan adds a soulful piano solo, and then vamps as Ervin enters with his own sax solo. After awhile the band drops out, leaving Ervin to solo alone accompanied only by clapping and Mingus’ vocal. Richmond finishes off with a short drum solo before the group returns to the boisterous theme. Can I get an Amen?

Adams’ low baritone blurts in and out of McLean’s sultry opening to “Cryin’ Blues.” This midnight mover also features solos from the leader and Parlan before Mingus yelps and the rest of the band falls in on the closing theme. Adams and Mingus walk it out on a short sax-bass duet.

Adams also opens the lyrical blues “Moanin’” with some more farts out of his baritone sax. The theme repeats several times, growing in frequency, until the entire band is heard. Then it calms down only to repeat itself in an even wilder fashion, with Knepper’s trombone sharply discernible. McLean takes the first proper solo on the composition, followed by Ervin. Both of them deliver swinging solos in front of the ensemble. Handy solos last and is given the stage all to himself before Mingus double-times him on bass. The theme is repeated and is similar to the opening in that Adams is the lead instrument with the other members playing freely behind him.

Mingus plucks the strings for an extended bass solo on the hyper-tight “Tensions.” The theme is played in short, staccato notes that grow louder and more ominous as the theme progresses. When the saxmen finally get a chance to solo, their freestyle solos feel like a relief to the building pressure created to that point in the song. Of the six pieces on the album, “Tensions” seems the most modern (i.e. less a derivative of the blues or roots).

The second Roots piece, “My Jelly Roll Soul” is a fun number that emulates the style of New Orleans jazz legend Jelly Roll Morton. Here, the intoxicated mood reminds me of a lazy, humid summer day, highlighted by sweet solos from Knepper, McLean, and Mingus himself.

The finale, “E’s Flat Ah’s Flat Too” is a fast-paced blues jam. First to solo is guest pianist Mal Waldron, followed by McLean and Ervin.

Mingus may have recorded Blues and Roots as a simple “piss off” to his critics, but it endures as a swinging testament from a great composer and arranger. It is one of many highlights in his catalog.

Recommended: Yes