Journey to the Sound of ‘Black’: Al Jarreau and George Duke

Journey to the Heart of ‘Black’:

Al Jarreau and George Duke

by Mark Anthony Neal

On the surface, the pairing of Al Jarreau and George Duke might seem odd; Jarreau is most well known as a jazz vocalist-turned pop singer-turned jazz vocalist again, while Duke has succeeded as jazz fusion keyboardist, a funkster and smooth jazz Svengali. But as Duke reminded audiences at the Carolina Theater in Durham, NC, where the two performed the day before Father’s Day, their connection goes back to their early days making names for themselves, performing together in the late 1960s at the Half Note in the San Francisco Bay area. Forty years later Jarreau and the George Duke Trio are touring the country and taking listeners on a excursion to a small piece of the history of 'Black' music in the country.

At seventy-years of age, the now frail looking Jarreau, is as vocally vibrant as he was during his commercial peak in the 1980s singing songs like the Top-30 pop hits “We’re in This Love Together” (1981), “Morning” (1983) and the “Moonlighting Theme” (1986). Vocally, Jarreau is a reminder that Dougie Fresh, Biz Markie, Dianne Reeves, Erykah Badu and yes, Lil’ Wayne did not occur in a vacuum, as Jarreau himself is indebted to Billie Holliday, Ella Fitzgerald, Lambert (Dave), Hendricks (John) and Ross (Annie) and Louis Armstrong.

Duke, the consummate musician, has long accompanied vocalists like Rachelle Farrell and his cousin Dianne Reeves. Duke has also produced figures as diverse as Deniece Williams, Jeffrey Osborne, Anita Baker and Smokey Robinson. Surrounded by synthesizers, an electric keyboard, a piano and a laptop, Duke easily moved back and forth between his own sets and Jarreau’s. The George Duke Trio opened the show with some fusion tunes, including “500 Miles Ahead” (from his 1995 Illusions), paying brief homage to Miles Davis (“Milestones”) and his mentor Julian “Cannonball” Adderley (“74 Miles Away”).

Jarreau’s “hits” were treated as afterthoughts, as his attention was on the American Songbook. With Jarreau’s signature bleeps, blurts, cackles and hiccups, the American Songbook was transformed into this “other thing,” reminiscent of the ways that generations of Black musicians—both vocalists and instrumentalists—have used it as a skeleton or rubric to take audiences into the complexity of black humanity and to transform those songs in the process. When Jarreau sang “Bess, You My Woman Now” and “Summertime” from Porgy and Bess, it was a gesture to the Gershwin Brothers (George and Ira) and Dubose Heyward, but also a nod to the Black improvisational spirit.

During his two sets, Jarreau covered the music of lyricist Sammy Cahn (“Teach Me Tonight”), Lionel Hampton and Johnny Mercer (“Midnight Sun”), and Bill Evans—a fitting for Father’s Day version of “A Waltz for Debbie” which appears on Jarreau’s recent Accentuate the Positive (2004)—while also giving a nod to Brazil. The country of Brazil was also on Duke’s mind as he performed the title track to his popular Brazilian Love Affair (1979), which was inspired by the music of Milton Nascimento. Duke recalled how Cannonball Adderley introduced him to Nascimento’s music during Duke apprenticeship as Adderley’s keyboardist in the early 1970s.

Though the audience reacted well to Duke’s fusion instrumentals, something awakened in the audience during his performance (including vocals) of the smooth jazz classic “No Rhyme and Reason,” (1993) which became one of Duke’s best selling singles. The crowd was equally amped, when Duke finally played—at the urging of several audience members—his 1978 Funk classic “Dukey Stick.” The song was a subtle reminder of a time when the audiences for Black music were not so diverse—“Dukey Stick” was clearly a diversion for those audience who had come to see Jarreau and were unfamiliar with Duke’s forays into black pop. Nevertheless, Duke seamlessly transitioned from his blue lights-in-the-basement party groove to Jarreau’s more laid back style.

Fittingly, Jarreau and Duke closed the show with a rousing rendition of the traditional 12-bar Blues, “C.C. Rider,” a song that was first popularized in the 1920s by Gertrude “Ma” Rainey.