Day 361: Norman Connors – Dance of Magic
Today, I thought I’d go for someone who’s completely unfamiliar to me. I read that Norman Connors was a jazz musician who successfully crossed over into disco, I knew I had to listen. And I’m glad I did, don’t get me wrong, but I can at the very least say that I chose the wrong album.
Album cover courtesy of Cobblestone
Norman Connors is a jazz drummer, composer, arranger and producer from Philadelphia, who became known later in his career as someone who made many successful R&B and disco tracks. He was also the bandleader of a jazz-funk group called the Starship Orchestra. Before that, though, he was a jazz drummer who grew up in the Philadelphia immersed in the jazz scene, and worked with artists like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders.
Dance of Magic was released in 1972 as his debut, and it features industry legends like trumpeter Eddie Henderson, bassist Stanley Clarke, keyboardist Herbie Hancock and drummer Alphonse Mouzon. It’s a far cry from disco or R&B, and is instead an album of avant-garde spiritual jazz.
In my ever-present hubris, I’ve been sharing my conspiracy theory that the fancier members of society tell people that jazz is very hard to understand and only suitable for specific types of people because they’re trying to keep the plebs out, but unfortunately I have been humbled. “Dance of Magic” started off sounding very nice, then I put it on my shower speaker and started washing my hair. By that time, it had taken a turn, not necessarily for the worse but into an area that I’m not familiar with.
By then, it was too late to get out of the shower and go get my phone to change albums, so I tried to just keep an open mind and listen. Reader, I am just not sophisticated enough for this. I’d like to sit down with someone who likes jazz music of that variety and ask them to explain it to me, because to me it just sounds like competent and impassioned noisemaking. I don’t get anything out of it, and it’s unfortunate because I wish I did, but I’m missing crucial steps on the way to becoming someone who can enjoy the more clattering slapdash varieties of jazz. At its peak, it just makes me feel like I’m at a loud building site getting anxious.
Granted, the rest of the album is more palatable to me than the first 20-minute mammoth of a tune, but still. I view this type of music the same way as some of the more abrasive forms of metal, some people love it and others just see it as noise – an acquired taste, and a taste that I haven’t acquired at that. Frankly, I don’t know if I want to. I’m giving it a 6/10 because I didn’t particularly enjoy it, but I know that that’s entirely my fault. I should have probably gone for the disco instead.