Chick Corea: Return to Forever (1972)

Chick Corea: Return to Forever (1972)

Amazon.com essential recording

The soul of fusion lies not in the barrage of note clusters played through overdriven amplifiers but in the arresting beauty of Return to Forever's lucid vision of music without boundaries. The stunningly virtuosic pianist Chick Corea had already gone through an exploration of free jazz with Circle, tutelage in the Miles Davis Academy of New Electric Music and the soul-searching of "Piano Improvisations" when he arrived at his most brilliant conception. Corea and bassist Stanley Clarke fly through the proceedings, supporting Joe Farrell's flute and soprano sax playing in what may have been the performance of his life. Flora Purim's vocals and Airto Moreira's drums and percussion work discretely in service of the music's serenity. --John Swenson


Corea was at his peak with this '70s release, which brought together his Latin-flavored compositions and writing for singer Flora Purim with his liquid electric piano, Airto's varied gifts on percussion, and the late great Joe Farrell's facility on flute and sax.

One of the approaches to jazz that has unfortunately seemed to pass by the boards is what I'll call extended comp/improv, a blend of formal composition, passages for improvisation and sections that allow for free group interaction. Sonny Rollins and Max Roach were modernists who plowed early ground in this area, and they were followed by, among others, McCoy Tyner, John Handy, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Jack DeJonette, and of course, the master of the form, Charles Mingus. Corea makes a fine contribution to the informal canon with "Sometime Ago/La Fiesta," a hypnotic 23-minute excursion.

For the extended comp/improv to work, all the musicians have to be headed in the same direction without ever losing the sense that there are many paths toward the same goal. "Sometime Ago/La Fiesta" illustrates the beauty of this ideal. Corea, Farrell, and bassist Stanley Clarke all prove their mettle in long, lyrical passages in which they both play and respond to one another. Farrell is particularly inspired on flute and soprano sax, but Clarke will startle you as well with the sounds he gets from his bass.

The rest of the CD? Fine as well, although you might find Purim's vocals an acquired taste. For me, a little generally goes a long way, but on this CD, her voice is tightly interwoven into the compositions and is an asset rather than a distraction.

Those who think of Return to Forever as a rock band will find this record a surprise -- one way or the other. For me, it's vastly superior to the fusion records Corea turned out later in the '70s.

1-Return to Forever
2-Crystal Silence
3-What game shall we play Today
4-Sometime Ago-La Fiesta

Chick Corea: electric piano
Joe Farrell: flutes, soprano saxophone
Flora Purim: vocal, percussion
Stanley Clarke: bass
Airto Moreira: drums, percussion

Return to Forever: Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy (1973)

Return To Forever : Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy (1973)

Studio Album, released in 1973

Songs / Tracks Listing

1. Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy (3:31)

2. After the Cosmic Rain (8:25)

3. Captain Señor Mouse (9:01)

4. Theme to the Mothership (8:49)

5. Space Circus, Pt. 1 & Pt. 2 (5:42)

6. Game Maker (6:46)

Total Time: 42:14

Line-up / Musicians

- Chick Corea / organ, piano, composer, gongs, harpsichord) 

- Bill Connors / guitar, electric guitar

- Stanley Clarke / bass, arranger, composer, guitar

- Lenny White / percussion, bongos, conga, drums

Another raw, uncompromising fusion classic that still sounds wonderfully fresh now, some 30 years after it was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. 

I'm sure this outing dropped some jaws in its day, especially considering that the 2 previous RTF discs (Return to Forever, Light As A Feather) were steeped in airy Brazilian jazz-samba sensibilities. Here, Chick Corea and his trusty bassist Stanley Clarke (just returning to electric bass) would change their whole sound and direction, adding in heavy rock and more orchestrated ensemble playing. An early lineup (which included drummer Steve Gadd, percussionist Mingo Lewis and guitarist Earl Klugh) gave way to the scorching lineup of Corea, Clarke, drummer Lenny White and a young unknown guitarist in the person of Bill Connors. Chick and Stanley's new musings were well served by the 2 new members. Lenny White's drumming combined the best aspects of a great jazz drummer, the ferocious power of a rocker and the funkiness of Clyde Stubblefield (James Brown) or Bernard Purdie. Bill Connors bought to the table a yearning to combine John Coltrane and Cream-period Eric Clapton into a unique musical voice. The new band was NEVER shy about flexing its musical muscles or taking chances right and left. 

The opening title cut makes it screamingly clear that this was a band of great musical minds to be reckoned with, highlighted by tight ensemble passages and reckless abandon working together in amazing ways. The song has a very endearing hanging on for dear life quality to it. "After The Cosmic Rain" gives bassist Stanley Clarke a chance to shine with thick fuzzy propulsive bass lines and a nasty, snarly solo, not unlike a more manic Jack Bruce (in fact, Stanley used the same bass as Jack, a Gibson EB-3, famous for its fuzzy somewhat muddy sound. Shortly after these recordings, Stanley would trade it in for the crisp, crackling Alembic sound that would become his stock in trade.) 

"Captain Señor Mouse" is a classic Corea musing featuring a manic and beautiful flamenco-inspired melody line and a dizzying variety of time changes, plus crafty use of exaggerated dynamics and tight, passionate ensemble work from everybody. "Theme To The Mothership" by stark contrast is a more open-ended full-throttle piece, giving Bill Connors a chance to unleash a soaring melodic solo, beginning with thick slicing sustained notes and gradually building to a barely controlled fury before miraculously landing right on the next ensemble passage. After this, Corea lets forth a brilliant ring-modulated Fender Rhodes solo that would have been right at home on a Soft Machine or Hatfield and the North disc. 

"Space Circus" begins with low-key child-like whimsy before charging into a full-on funk workout, with everybody trading off searing phrases like Muhammad Ali and Joe Frasier in the ring. "The Gamemaker" sneaks up on you with a mysterious series of organ chords and Corea gently musing over the top of it gradually morphing into a repeating keyboard figure that frames the piece that the band picks up on and adds momentum to. From that point, Corea and Connors engage in a duel to the death, beating each other creatively silly as Clarke and White drive it along at a furious pace, leading to a nail-biting unison-passage ending. 

This is a disc that will leave you exhausted in a wonderful way, kind of like a good downhill ski run or roller coaster ride. This is tightly played and orchestrated fusion at its boldest, rawest and uncompromising for its time. While subsequent RTF albums were more refined, and guitarist Al DiMeola may have been a superior technician/chopsmeister, Bill Connors just had a raw soulfulness and passionate abandon that DiMeola could never get close to (plus I happen to LOVE that thick, slicing tone of Bill's). The album's raw, in-your-face production just adds to the charm of hearing a new band flexing its musical muscles and breaking new ground. 

Return to Forever: Romantic Warrior (1976)

Some history first. I remember the sadness I experienced upon hearing Bill Connors had left RTF and that this flashy Al Di Meola had replaced Connors—RTF was just not the same. I essentially shunned them. Even though I continued buying releases, sampling RTF members’ solo offerings, I never heard that same magical fire that Connors had lended. On another front The Mahavishnu Orchestra fizzled out into fusion confusion. What was happening here? The ‘70's fusion-fest seemed to be passing into mundane oblivion or mutating into something worse. Then this release came along. I was amazed and thrilled. It wasn’t all I expected. It was more. Everyone on this release performed magically. Jazz rock fusion had reached another pinnacle. Compositions were unbelievably complex and beautiful, unison lines moving wildly, solos inspired and superb, and the artistic soulfire was at maximum. RTF was peaking all sysytems.

There was a playful yet forceful punch happening here. Chick Corea‘s keys were perfect cool, Al DiMeola’s guitar voicings, phrasings, and leads awesome, Stanley Clarke’s bass playing went beyond the mere words’ description, and Lenny White’s drums as usual, superbly jazzy grooves. Also impressive; each member wrote at least one song of the six offered. Amazingly, this release was 100% cohesive, like movements of varying force in one stream of thought. Nothing was lacking, nothing was excess, Romantic Warrior remains to this day, a diamond, exuding flawless beauty. Yes, it grew out of the jazz rock fusion genre but it’s fine art that outlives its hey day, an example of just how incredibly wonderful fusion can be. Strangely enough, Romantic Warrior was this incarnation of RTF’s last true hurrah. Nothing else afterwards ever came close. It was as if RTF was saying goodbye and thank you creating a monument to a fading era, a waning passion.

For those of you wondering if this remastered, re-release is technologically superior in sound quality to prior releases and worth grabbing—listen up. Yes, no doubt about it. For those of you never even hearing of this until now—this is a jazz/ jazz fusion fan must-have. It is a unique classic that never grows old. Like steak and wine by candle light after a long hard day, Romantic Warrior is a very, very good experience. Highest recommendations.