I first heard the name Frans Elsen on the radio in 1957. He was the pianist with the Peter Schilperoort Quartet, which performed every other week for VARA radio. They performed on Friday afternoons between five pm and a quarter past.
I especially liked the signature tune, As Long As There's Music. Little did I know that, thirteen years later, Frans was going to call me to accompany the famous American singer Mark Murphy with him and bassist Rob Langereis on a TV program by Bob Rooyens. When we had recorded Ich hab' noch einen Koffer in Berlin, I put my sticks on my floor tom and said, 'Well, that went well!' Frans Elsen gave me a stern look and told me never to talk through the reverb again.
After we had played together a few times in The Hague, he told me he wanted to start a jazz-rock group with Piet Noordijk. He had written a 'Norwegian Cycle' after a visit to Norway, and he wanted to perform it with a 'hip' ensemble.
In 1971, new trends were developing within jazz. It had started in the Sixties with freer forms. Ornette Coleman with Time, No Changes, and John Coltrane with his quartet featuring Alice Coltrane and Rashied Ali.
At the same time, the Motown scene was growing in Detroit, and rock and funk were seeping into jazz, partly thanks to musicians like Jimi Hendrix and groups like Sly and the Family Stone, Blood, Sweat and Tears, and Chicago. Miles Davis picked up on this, and his first recording with Fender Rhodes and bass guitar on Miles In The Sky was in 1968. In the early seventies, Weather Report and Chick Corea's Return to Forever were added, and even Stan Getz had a super hip group with Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke, Tony Williams, and Airto Moreira.
The Fender Rhodes electric piano and the bass guitar were among the standard tools of many keyboard and bass players. It didn't take long before several prominent Dutch bass players also had a bass guitar: Koos Serierse, Rob Langereis, Victor Kaihatu, Wim Essed, and even Ruud Jacobs. The same happened with the Fender Rhodes: Rob Franken and Frans Elsen had both bought one. An interesting development, I thought, and dived into rock and funky rhythms, alongside hard-bop swing. As long as it had a groove, it came in handy in a variety of situations.
This also applied to Frans Elsen's group. He had been enthused by Mwandishi by pianist Herbie Hancock (recorded in December 1970). That must have been the source of his curiosity and inspiration to start a group like this. It started as a sextet with Piet Noordijk on alto sax, Eddie Engels on trumpet, Rob Langereis on bass guitar, Wim van der Beek on percussion, and myself on drums.
I was the youngest of the group (24), but I had no trouble with the music because I had already gained some experience with rock and funk-like styles in the Hilversum studios. In November 1970, I had recorded the album Vocal Ease with the American pianist and arranger Don Trenner and his wife, the vocalist B.J. Ward. It was all very funky.
The LP Home Run from 1971 by the Rob Agerbeek Quintet also included a funky boogaloo, which Frans Elsen heard too. After some rehearsals at his home, we had our first gig at a Rotterdam jazz festival in De Doelen in December 1971. The press said it was the big surprise of the festival. Between Trio Pim Jacobs with Rita Reys, the Dutch Swing College Band, and a few other established celebrities, Frans Elsen's group in this line-up and with this music stood out. I don't think anyone expected Frans to do that, but I think he liked it.
The 'Norwegian Cycle' that Frans had written was melodic, a lot more interesting than the vague Norwegian fjord sounds produced today. It always had a groove (in this case a funky groove), and the improvisations were hard bop and modal. The sound was different only because of the electric piano and bass guitar and the backbeat of the drums.
The pieces had Norwegian titles: Harpefoss, Ringebu, Skåbu, and Otta. These are the names of small towns in Norway that Frans visited at the time. Harpefoss and Ringebu had a funky feel, and Skåbu was much more open. Otta would have fit in perfectly with Ornette Coleman's repertoire; indeed, Coleman could have written it himself.
During the studio session to mark the EBU Jazz Quiz (19 May 1972), only Otta's theme was played, but it featured solos in live concerts, as can be heard on the live version recorded in theater PePijn in The Hague. The EBU recording of Skåbu also only featured the theme, while at the International Jazz Festival in Loosdrecht it is played at length, especially by Wim Overgaauw, with a nod to free jazz guitarist Sonny Sharrock. The addition of Wim Overgaauw worked well because he gave an extra dimension to the music with his pedals and various sounds. The front line was rock solid with the unsurpassed alto sax sound of Piet Noordijk and the great trumpet sound of Eddie Engels.
Despite making few waves in the press, the band was much in demand at festivals, especially in 1972 and 1973; there were also offers for radio recordings.
It was a motley collection of personalities. Frans Elsen (1934-2011) was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and not easy to cope with. Piet Noordijk (1932-2011) was Piet Noordijk, so always conspicuously present, and Eddie Engels (1936-2021) was the charmer of the band. Rob Langereis (1939-2014) was straightforward with typical Amsterdam humor. Wim van der Beek (1917-1993) was the hidden force, and Wim Overgaauw (1929-1995) also didn't say much but kept a close eye on everything. When Rob Langereis could not make it, Victor Kaihatu (1939-2014) filled in for him. With a big spliff on his lip, everything was fine. I had to get used to him, but that didn't last long; he also had to get used to me.
Alongside the various shows, we invariably played every year around Christmas at theater PePijn in The Hague. Some new pieces were added to the repertoire now and then, and Frans was studying Chinese at the time, so we could count on a Chinese funk piece appearing on the music stand as well. Unfortunately, after a while, Frans and Piet separated because of 'musical differences.' I don't know exactly how this happened, but they were two self-willed, highly combustible characters, so it was only to be expected.
From time to time Ferdinand Povel joined the line-up, and it soon became clear he was there to stay. He also played on the session we recorded for the Dutch world service, Radio Nederland. At the time, reed player Charlie Mariano was living in
The Hague and I remember him playing with us at Amsterdam's Concertgebouw. Over time, we performed less and less, and the frontline was mostly Ack van Rooyen, Ferdinand Povel, and Bart van Lier. In the early eighties, Frans Elsen received an offer from Limetree Records to record a live album at what was then the Hot Theatre.
in The Hague. We performed there, but Frans was not happy with the result, and that heralded the definitive demise of the band.
Frans Elsen returned to his greatest love: bebop. He also became one of the founding fathers of jazz education in the Netherlands. He first taught jazz at the conservatories in Zwolle, Rotterdam, and Hilversum, and later only at the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague, where he had graduated.
He was not an easy teacher, and many a student left the classroom crying. But most musicians who took lessons from him would still argue that they learned the most from Frans. He delved deep into the music and could explain it all clearly. He could fathom all the styles. From Teddy Wilson to Herbie Hancock: he played it perfectly. He also pushed for Barry Harris to give an annual masterclass in The Hague.
But Frans Elsen was not only bebop; there was so much more. Like this septet, forgotten by many people. He was also a gifted arranger, for example, for Wim Kuylenburg's Latin Orchestra and the musical De Engel van Amsterdam by Joop Stokkermans and Lennaert Nijgh.
Later, in the eighties, Frans asked me to play in his trio with Jacques Schols in Café De Sport in The Hague. He had set that up so that students at the Royal Conservatoire could play with a good rhythm section. But Ferdinand Povel, Ruud Brink, Toon Roos, Jasper Blom, and Benjamin Herman also dropped by regularly. Frans just sat at the acoustic piano again and played the most beautiful standards in the world. He also showed himself to be the perfect accompanist, on a par with Hank Jones.
One evening, he turned around and asked me what I wanted to play. I told him that as a ten-year-old, I always heard him on the radio with the Peter Schilperoort Quartet and that I liked the theme tune As Long As There's Music by Jule Styne so much. He looked at Jacques and said, 'That's 35 fucking years ago!' But he played it, and how! Frans recorded all the shows in De Sport, and he promised to make a few tapes for me. A few months later I got two tapes. The first piece on it was As Long As There's Music. That was typical of Frans. A subtle gesture of appreciation. He didn't like to talk about the time with the septet anymore. He saw it as a youthful indiscretion, but when I brought it up, he said with a laugh, 'Eric, we had the first funk band.'
I think that if Frans heard these septet recordings in this high quality, he would appreciate it. It all sounds very fresh, and with the return of the Fender Rhodes to the current generation, I think compositions like Harpefoss, Skåbu, Otta, and Whirligig could well get a great new performance.
diegodobini2
Septet Frans Elsen Featuring Piet Noordijk – Norway (1972,73)
https://youtu.be/lA7EPN70VE8
From CD Liner Notes:
SEPTET FRANS ELSEN featuring PIET NOORDIJK
NORWAY
I first heard the name Frans Elsen on the radio in 1957. He was the pianist with the Peter Schilperoort Quartet, which performed every other week for VARA radio. They performed on Friday afternoons between five pm and a quarter past.
I especially liked the signature tune, As Long As There's Music. Little did I know that, thirteen years later, Frans was going to call me to accompany the famous American singer Mark Murphy with him and bassist Rob Langereis on a TV program by Bob Rooyens. When we had recorded Ich hab' noch einen Koffer in Berlin, I put my sticks on my floor tom and said, 'Well, that went well!' Frans Elsen gave me a stern look and told me never to talk through the reverb again.
After we had played together a few times in The Hague, he told me he wanted to start a jazz-rock group with Piet Noordijk. He had written a 'Norwegian Cycle' after a visit to Norway, and he wanted to perform it with a 'hip' ensemble.
In 1971, new trends were developing within jazz. It had started in the Sixties with freer forms. Ornette Coleman with Time, No Changes, and John Coltrane with his quartet featuring Alice Coltrane and Rashied Ali.
At the same time, the Motown scene was growing in Detroit, and rock and funk were seeping into jazz, partly thanks to musicians like Jimi Hendrix and groups like Sly and the Family Stone, Blood, Sweat and Tears, and Chicago. Miles Davis picked up on this, and his first recording with Fender Rhodes and bass guitar on Miles In The Sky was in 1968. In the early seventies, Weather Report and Chick Corea's Return to Forever were added, and even Stan Getz had a super hip group with Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke, Tony Williams, and Airto Moreira.
The Fender Rhodes electric piano and the bass guitar were among the standard tools of many keyboard and bass players. It didn't take long before several prominent Dutch bass players also had a bass guitar: Koos Serierse, Rob Langereis, Victor Kaihatu, Wim Essed, and even Ruud Jacobs. The same happened with the Fender Rhodes: Rob Franken and Frans Elsen had both bought one. An interesting development, I thought, and dived into rock and funky rhythms, alongside hard-bop swing. As long as it had a groove, it came in handy in a variety of situations.
This also applied to Frans Elsen's group. He had been enthused by Mwandishi by pianist Herbie Hancock (recorded in December 1970). That must have been the source of his curiosity and inspiration to start a group like this. It started as a sextet with Piet Noordijk on alto sax, Eddie Engels on trumpet, Rob Langereis on bass guitar, Wim van der Beek on percussion, and myself on drums.
I was the youngest of the group (24), but I had no trouble with the music because I had already gained some experience with rock and funk-like styles in the Hilversum studios. In November 1970, I had recorded the album Vocal Ease with the American pianist and arranger Don Trenner and his wife, the vocalist B.J. Ward. It was all very funky.
The LP Home Run from 1971 by the Rob Agerbeek Quintet also included a funky boogaloo, which Frans Elsen heard too. After some rehearsals at his home, we had our first gig at a Rotterdam jazz festival in De Doelen in December 1971. The press said it was the big surprise of the festival. Between Trio Pim Jacobs with Rita Reys, the Dutch Swing College Band, and a few other established celebrities, Frans Elsen's group in this line-up and with this music stood out. I don't think anyone expected Frans to do that, but I think he liked it.
The 'Norwegian Cycle' that Frans had written was melodic, a lot more interesting than the vague Norwegian fjord sounds produced today. It always had a groove (in this case a funky groove), and the improvisations were hard bop and modal. The sound was different only because of the electric piano and bass guitar and the backbeat of the drums.
The pieces had Norwegian titles: Harpefoss, Ringebu, Skåbu, and Otta. These are the names of small towns in Norway that Frans visited at the time. Harpefoss and Ringebu had a funky feel, and Skåbu was much more open. Otta would have fit in perfectly with Ornette Coleman's repertoire; indeed, Coleman could have written it himself.
During the studio session to mark the EBU Jazz Quiz (19 May 1972), only Otta's theme was played, but it featured solos in live concerts, as can be heard on the live version recorded in theater PePijn in The Hague. The EBU recording of Skåbu also only featured the theme, while at the International Jazz Festival in Loosdrecht it is played at length, especially by Wim Overgaauw, with a nod to free jazz guitarist Sonny Sharrock. The addition of Wim Overgaauw worked well because he gave an extra dimension to the music with his pedals and various sounds. The front line was rock solid with the unsurpassed alto sax sound of Piet Noordijk and the great trumpet sound of Eddie Engels.
Despite making few waves in the press, the band was much in demand at festivals, especially in 1972 and 1973; there were also offers for radio recordings.
It was a motley collection of personalities. Frans Elsen (1934-2011) was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and not easy to cope with. Piet Noordijk (1932-2011) was Piet Noordijk, so always conspicuously present, and Eddie Engels (1936-2021) was the charmer of the band. Rob Langereis (1939-2014) was straightforward with typical Amsterdam humor. Wim van der Beek (1917-1993) was the hidden force, and Wim Overgaauw (1929-1995) also didn't say much but kept a close eye on everything. When Rob Langereis could not make it, Victor Kaihatu (1939-2014) filled in for him. With a big spliff on his lip, everything was fine. I had to get used to him, but that didn't last long; he also had to get used to me.
Alongside the various shows, we invariably played every year around Christmas at theater PePijn in The Hague. Some new pieces were added to the repertoire now and then, and Frans was studying Chinese at the time, so we could count on a Chinese funk piece appearing on the music stand as well. Unfortunately, after a while, Frans and Piet separated because of 'musical differences.' I don't know exactly how this happened, but they were two self-willed, highly combustible characters, so it was only to be expected.
From time to time Ferdinand Povel joined the line-up, and it soon became clear he was there to stay. He also played on the session we recorded for the Dutch world service, Radio Nederland. At the time, reed player Charlie Mariano was living in
The Hague and I remember him playing with us at Amsterdam's Concertgebouw. Over time, we performed less and less, and the frontline was mostly Ack van Rooyen, Ferdinand Povel, and Bart van Lier. In the early eighties, Frans Elsen received an offer from Limetree Records to record a live album at what was then the Hot Theatre.
in The Hague. We performed there, but Frans was not happy with the result, and that heralded the definitive demise of the band.
Frans Elsen returned to his greatest love: bebop. He also became one of the founding fathers of jazz education in the Netherlands. He first taught jazz at the conservatories in Zwolle, Rotterdam, and Hilversum, and later only at the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague, where he had graduated.
He was not an easy teacher, and many a student left the classroom crying. But most musicians who took lessons from him would still argue that they learned the most from Frans. He delved deep into the music and could explain it all clearly. He could fathom all the styles. From Teddy Wilson to Herbie Hancock: he played it perfectly. He also pushed for Barry Harris to give an annual masterclass in The Hague.
But Frans Elsen was not only bebop; there was so much more. Like this septet, forgotten by many people. He was also a gifted arranger, for example, for Wim Kuylenburg's Latin Orchestra and the musical De Engel van Amsterdam by Joop Stokkermans and Lennaert Nijgh.
Later, in the eighties, Frans asked me to play in his trio with Jacques Schols in Café De Sport in The Hague. He had set that up so that students at the Royal Conservatoire could play with a good rhythm section. But Ferdinand Povel, Ruud Brink, Toon Roos, Jasper Blom, and Benjamin Herman also dropped by regularly. Frans just sat at the acoustic piano again and played the most beautiful standards in the world. He also showed himself to be the perfect accompanist, on a par with Hank Jones.
One evening, he turned around and asked me what I wanted to play. I told him that as a ten-year-old, I always heard him on the radio with the Peter Schilperoort Quartet and that I liked the theme tune As Long As There's Music by Jule Styne so much. He looked at Jacques and said, 'That's 35 fucking years ago!' But he played it, and how! Frans recorded all the shows in De Sport, and he promised to make a few tapes for me. A few months later I got two tapes. The first piece on it was As Long As There's Music. That was typical of Frans. A subtle gesture of appreciation. He didn't like to talk about the time with the septet anymore. He saw it as a youthful indiscretion, but when I brought it up, he said with a laugh, 'Eric, we had the first funk band.'
I think that if Frans heard these septet recordings in this high quality, he would appreciate it. It all sounds very fresh, and with the return of the Fender Rhodes to the current generation, I think compositions like Harpefoss, Skåbu, Otta, and Whirligig could well get a great new performance.
-Eric Ineke
Translation: Martin Cleaver
2 weeks ago | [YT] | 17