You may remember the tenor saxophonist Jim Pepper for “Witchi-Tai-To,” an American Indian peyote chant he learned from his Kaw grandfather. Pepper set it to music and it became a crossover hit. The song persists as a staple in the repertoires of pop and so-called world music groups on several continents. It has a place in efforts to raise Native American pride and awareness, for which Pepper, with his Kaw and Creek heritage, has become a symbol.
When I knew Pepper in Portland, Oregon, in the early 1960s, he had a big sound with rough edges and was primed to jam at a moment’s notice. He could be combative on the stand and off. The muscle and heft of rhythm and blues ran through his playing. He took chances with harmony, which is to say that he often refused to let conventional chord guidelines interfere with his conception. Looking back a few years later, it was easy to see that Pepper was primed for the rock-jazz fusion milieu he jumped into in New York in the middle of the sixties. Free Spirits, the band with Pepper, guitarist Larry Coryell, drummer Bob Moses, singer Columbus Baker and electric bassist Chris Hills, had an impact on rockers including Jimi Hendrix and The Velvet Underground. The 1967 Free Spirits album Out of Sight and Sound disappeared for years but recently resurfaced as a CD. Pepper worked later with such adventurers on the jazz frontier as Charlie Haden, Don Cherry, Dewey Redman and Bill Frisell. Here’s part of a 1968 Don Heckman interview with Pepper:
Don: Let me ask you the standard question. Where do you think jazz is going to go?
Jim: It seems like it’s just about ready to just roll over for the third time and die. But that’s hard to say. The rock music may help it out some, but the musicians themselves in their performance will really have to help. Maybe the younger musicians; if the older musicians move over, then something else will happen. I don’t think that people like to go to clubs and see Brooks Brothers suits anymore. Those days are gone, I think.
Discouraged by what he felt as low esteem for jazz in the United States, Pepper moved to Europe in his last years. He became popular there, particularly in Austria. He died back home in Portland in February, 1992, at the age of fifty. I have not seen Sandra Osawa’s highly praised documentary, Pepper’s Pow Wow,which seems impossible to find on DVD. If you’re interested in the VHS edition, go to this web page and scroll down. Few music outlets stock the albums Pepper made under his own name. One is 1987’s Dakota Song, in which he included sensitive performances of standard songs that demonstrated he wasn’t all swagger and boistrousness. Another is Comin’ and Goin’, recorded with John Scofield, Don Cherry, Nana Vasconcelos and Colin Wolcott in 1984. It includes a version of “Witchi Tai To” and just reappeared on CD at a confiscatory import price.
There may not be much of Pepper’s music available, but the folks at Harvard University’s radio station evidently have a substantial collection of it. They are billing what they call a Jim Pepper Orgy this Friday, January 12, from 6:00 am to 8:00 pm EST. It will be hosted by a woman with the intriguing name of Jesse Morgan Righthand. If you are in the Boston area, you can hear WHRB at 95.3-FM. If you are elsewhere, go to the station’s web site and click on “Tune In.”
Jim Pepper is often strong medicine. Strong medicine can make you well. If you’re hearing Pepper for the first time, let us know your impressions.
Pepper had the most unbelievable sound on the tenor that I ever heard (and I’ve heard some good ones). What a character. I spent some interesting times with him in New York, circa 1984-85, and learnt a fair bit of stuff that you wouldn’t necessarily get in most music schools. Good to see that he hasn’t been (totally) forgotten.
(Mr. Dwyer is a distinguished Canadian saxophonist)–DR
Pepper is not forgotten. There’s a thread on him at the bulletin board at allaboutjazz.com – that thread has been going for a few years now, not axactly daily posts, but from time to time new info is posted and the thread is well worth visiting.
Jim’s music is far from forgotten or dead. I know I am playing it quite often anymore…as much as possible. I had some serious surgery last year and had to take some time off, but I’m back playing now…and will be doing a performance of Jim’s music at Ivory Jazz Club in Kennewick WA on March 30th.
Truth: Jim Pepper lives on in the music and the dedication of a whole new generation of musicians (see Barry Bergstrom comment above). there are young musicians who have stuck their heads (and instruments) through the door that Pepper opened for them, and they’ve discovered whole new ways of interpreting Pepper, interpreting their own lives through Pepper’s model, and just plain digging the man’s music. I’ve met drummers and bassists who call saxophonist Pepper one of their biggest influences. Young Native American musicians say that no matter what they’re talking about when they’re hanging out, all you have to do is say “Jim Pepper!”, and the conversation will turn into a night-long conversation about what Pepper means to them.
Listen to the music of people like Mr. Bergstrom, who are keeping Pepper’s alive through their interpretations. Listen to the music of younger people like John-Carlos Perea (www.myspace.com/johncarlosperea), who are standing on Pepper’s shoulders to take the music and its model to whole new places. And listen to Jim Pepper whenever you get the chance.
— Bill
(see www,jimpepperlives.wordpress.com)
I knew Pepper as far back as 1975 in San Francisco. We were roommates and I played in his band, Pepper’s Pow Wow. We lost touch when I moved to New York in 1977, but got back in touch in 1981 when he moved there. We again lost touch in 1988. I was working in Indianapolis as an on-air radio host when I heard about his death in 1992. One thing I remember about Pepper was his determination to play music on his terms. He was not interested in playing like anyone but himself. He listened to a lot of different music, and played standards and jazz classics along with his originals and avant-garde experiments. When I listen to his music these days, it still sounds fresh and original, as if he were creating new music for himself as well as his audience. It reflects an emotional honesty that is hard to hear in so many of today’s jazz musicians, or musician’s of the past for that matter. I’m looking for a transcript of the NPR show from February 1992 announcing his passing. I think it was Morning Edition. Can anyone help me with this?
(Mr. Harris is a distinguished bassist — DR)