party in the booth near me — in the best seats in the house — talked loudly and rudely throughout. And yet many out-of-town musicians have expressed a liking for Delevan’s, despite these problems. In past performances in Portland, Harris addressed the audience more often — in fact, he used to do a lot of talking, and in 1975, he even made an entire record of comedy monologues taped live and titled The Reason Why I’m Talkin’ Shit. Nearly silent that Tuesday, Eddie Harris nevertheless did satisfy one of the expectations he rarely dodges — he always comes to play. No matter what “bag” he’s coming out of, he is up there working to earn his money. “If you want to play fora living, but say you’re going to do what you want at all times, it’s a joke to me. You have to take the bitter with the sweet out here.... You have to respect the fact that people are out there in the audience. ” The bar had filled up by 9:15, and Eddie gave us the sweet — a breakneck version of “Sweet Georgia Brown,” a selection I’d never heard him play before. He took the first chorus straight, then blasted off into wild riffing, allowing the melody to pop up in unexpected places as if he had turned the original into a “round” in which he plays snatches of all the voices himself. The band hustled to keep up and provided a solid underpinning (with playful glissandos in an exciting solo by George Mitchell on piano), but the audience didn’t really get with the flow, and were more surprised than the band when Harris brought the tune to an unanticipated halt, leaving smiles lingering for a silent moment before the applause had time to catch up. After a thoughtfully constructed version of “Bluesette” that Harris enhanced with subtle pauses and interesting syncopations, he delivered another show ballad with an intensity that rose above the chattering crowd, using the higher registers to carry the melody sweetly in a series of complex, flowering phrases. He extended this tune with a long whole-note cadenza that was again accompanied by a chorus of voices from the rear. Undaunted, he stepped to the microphone and began a long, free-form, squawking introduction that finally won the audience’s attention by sheer force. When he had us, he swung into the melody with the band. He punctuated his choruses with pedal tones, squeaking wails and squeeing runs, maintaining the melody and chord structure but frequently breaking it into squawks, blops and wheedle-de- lops. Ron Steen turned in another impressive drum solo that kept a steady rhythm on bass drum while following the chord changes on his finely tuned traps. Harris had been playing for well over an hour, tightening up his chops, leading the audience into the spirit of his music, and emphasizing the blues feeling; even on a musing, acapella introduction he stayed rhythmic with accents that gave it an R&B beat. His elbows were pumping for emphasis, and during a piano solo he clapped and nodded, encouraging the crowd to clap and whistle: the blues rarely fails to move the people. And then he spoke: “This tune I call ‘3/4s Miles’ because it’s my own version of Miles Davis’ ‘All Blue’’ only played in 3/4 time with my own melody because I didn’t like the one he used. It’s on a recording I have coming out in several weeks. If you dig it, holler, yell and whistle; if you don’t dig it, holler, yell and whistle ... bullshit me.... Are you ready?” And he was off into a very nice tune that would have been my favorite had it not ended so quickly, serving as the closing number during which he introduced the band and finished with, “And on the tenor sax, I’m Brother Eddie. ” He left the crowd crying for more and stood waiting with a quarter in his hand beside the lonely pay phone to place a collect call to his daughter in L.A. The fluorescent lighting and high ceilings in the narrow corridor seemed to diminish him, bringing back the unceremonious, empty feeling I’d had at the beginning of the set. Ves, it was indeed a quieter and J . more inaccessible Eddie Harris that Tuesday, playing an all-acoustic set even though his pre-amps and special mouthpieces were there ready to be plugged in. Portland has been a pretty good town for him, and he’s played electronic and acoustic with equal success. Jazz fans here have consistently turned out to enjoy Eddie Harris because he has the confidence, experience and personal force to please an audience and still remain emphatically his own man. “An improviser comes up with new things, new ways of playing the notes. People stop and say, ‘Hey, let’s listen to that cat, he's different.”’ g] 6729 S.E 162nd >s* T (off Foster Road) Kal. 100 acres of trails 7 y 753 & ^Unf'n9 10 a.m.-7 p.m. Horses for Sale • • • or Lease 7 days a week SPIRITS LIFTED HERE! P0RR£TT!>piZZft NOW YOU CAN TAKE IT OUT OR EAT IT HERE! WHOLE WHEAT OR WHITE CRUST CALL AHEAD , YOUR ORDER WILL BE READY WHEN YOU ARRIVE TOGO [~232-2812 2239 Sr HAWTHORNE tV. 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