I didn’t see Roy Hargrove at Blues Alley on Saturday night; I saw the shadow of the man who still inspires me to play trumpet, who can solo brilliantly with just one note, who can melt your soul with a flugelhorn ballad, who can play the fieriest of blues licks, and who can lay down hip-hop horn lines doper than anyone (just check out D’Angelo’s latest album). I still believe the real Roy exists; he just wasn’t at Blues Alley on Saturday night.
And the second I first saw him I knew it wasn’t the real him. The way he hobbled his way to the bandstand 5 min before the rest of his group and stood there with his back turned to the audience told me right away that something was up. A disillusioned musician trying to make it through his last set would have been much less sad. But Roy just stood there lost in a world his snazzy shades and immaculate suit could not hide, the world of a drug addiction I have long heard about, but have refused to accept. I was somewhat prepared for this, but I did not think it would hit me quite the way it did.
So Roy started to play and it honestly wasn’t all that bad. Certainly digestible for the Blues Alley crowd, his quintet would have also been perfect for any bigwig cocktail party in DC. As I told my friend sitting next to me, “this sounds like track 17 of Earfood,” a 13-track album Roy put out it in 2008 that has nice mix of funk, blues, bob, and ballad arrangements, along with nothing innovative. Earfood is the culmination of what I have always liked about Roy: he’s Mr. Tasteful. He doesn’t do anything radically different, he just makes everything from be-bop to hard-bop radically more palatable and soulful.
But there were a number of ingredients missing in this “cold leftovers” version Earfood on Saturday night. For one, Roy didn’t have the soul or the lip-strength to make it edible for the guy who’s had him as his iPhone and desktop background since 2008, who’s learned every note of countless recordings, and who’s favorite compliment is that he sounds like Roy (I actually don’t as much as I’d like to). Nevertheless, the fan in me will still give Roy’s shadow some props. As high as he was, he knew exactly how high he could play (half the range of his glory days). He never soloed for too long (for the most part), he followed his ideas (for the most part), and his tone was still there (for the most part).
I was not nearly as disappointed with Roy as I was with his sideman, Justin Robinson. This guy was sober, but in a world even farther away. He has played with Roy for ages and has plenty of excellent recordings to his name, yet he suddenly became the sax player from hell who never takes a breath while soloing as fast as humanly possible. I can forgive Roy’s drug addiction much more easily than I can forgive Mr. Robinson’s masturbation. I have never seen anyone play so fast yet so lackluster. And I have never seen anyone start soloing over a ballad in quadruple time with dynamics more along the lines of Moon Hooch. The rest of the band was good, but as fiery as the drummer’s solos were, he was like the Sriracha that could only kinda sorta help me stomach those leftovers clearly devoid of flavor.
But enough with my musical grumblings. I am not even that mad about the music to be honest. My concerns are the following: Why is Roy’s band sticking with him? What kinds of friends are they, letting the man who has made their careers go on like this? Or is that it: their careers are nothing after Roy? I doubt it. They are all incredibly talented. I just hope this is not a farewell tour, one much, much sadder than Kobe Bryant’s. And I don’t care about how many pathetic shows Miles Davis played at the end of his career. Roy deserves better.
And what about this so-called jazz club? Just like how Blues Alley knows they can get away with charging a $12 mandatory purchase fee on top of a $40 ticket, they know they can get away with giving the shadow of my favorite trumpet player residency for almost an entire week. They are no better than those cold leftovers that even Sriracha cannot save.
Photo: Joe Epstein, The Georgetown Voice
Sad little trumpet boy
” I can forgive Roy’s drug addiction much more easily than I can forgive Mr. Robinson’s masturbation.”
Musical and prosaic masturbation are two sides of the same coin.
I saw Roy and his quintet a few years ago and he was in rough shape. Really skinny, stiff, and not playing anything above the staff. However, I thought his band including Robinson was incredible, and I felt it was absolutely worth the price of admission. So if they want to keep playing and keep adding dates and people want to keep paying to hear them, I wouldn’t criticize Roy, his band, and his management for doing what they do, which is play music. Drugs and health are not really any of our business, and to declare in an article that someone you don’t know personally should go to rehab is a little bit in poor taste in my opinion.
I am the mayor of a smaller town in Germany, hosting an annual jazz event of the Palatia Jazz series. Not only did I get to listen to world class jazz music on the main square, but host the artists in twon hall an get to know the personally. Being a huge fan of this music, certainly my highlight of the year. Except for 2009, when Roy Hargrove came to town. Musically it was certainly wonderful, but hosting such a bunch of junkies was no fun at all.
Unfortunately, my experience mirrors the same stories that have been stated earlier. I got a chance to see him in Santa Cruz, CA at the Kuumbwa jazz club in 2014. You could tell that he was not at his best. In fact, many of his songs were taken at a slower tempo and he rarely played above the staff… He still had an excellent tone. This was evident on his flugel and on the ballads. I hope that he gets better. I saw a message on FB that he had to cancel his March 2016 shows due to health concerns. He still inspires me to practice and be the very best trumpet player that I can be.
A well-written article that voices what many a Jazz fan feels when dissappointed, saddened and let down by their idol’s habits getting in the way of their performing abilities. The gentleman who said that ‘drugs and health are really none of our business’… once the customer puts down their money, it unfortunately becomes their business whether the customer likes it or not. To write something in a major publication as Joe Epstein so eloquently and empathetically is responsible journalism. Nobody needs to hear it more than Roy himself.
Roy is my hero either way; I was with Saxophonist Jeff Coffin at dinner yesterday and he asked me who my influences on trumpet were. After I mentioned Sean Jones & Roy Hargrove, Jeff mentioned Roy was on dialysis and could checkout anyday. The following tomorrow Roy was dead.
Guess you have to find another wallpaper for your computers now
I loved the brother’s music, I loved his spirit! I too saw Roy Hargrove perform many times over many, many years, in quite a few places. And, during these times the progression of his disease was painful for me to witness. I am not a professional musician, but I have a great ear and a keen eye, and am extremely appreciative of Brother Hargrove’s immense talent and beautiful soul. I am also a grateful, recovering, addict. No, I did not know the man personally, but I know this affliction! I am glad to be clean, sober and still here — and grief stricken to see this beautiful person go. I pray that my brother is resting in Paradise, and thankful that his spirit and soul lives on through his music. ✌?❤️??
interesting thoughts, beautifully presented ;)