It may be said that Leroy was a singular talent, and he put Portland on the jazz map when he began to call it home.
It may be said that Leroy was arguably more comfortable playing as part of a collective rather than performing as a bandleader or soloist.
It may be said that Leroy originated the notion of walking the bass, and enjoyed being a part of the community that he played in.
Being such an iconic figure, it comes as no surprise that PSU has the Leroy Vinnegar Jazz Institute and the annual Leroy Vinnegar Jazz Week, which began last Thursday and ended on Sunday with the fiery finale featuring Ed Bennett, Dave Captein, Andre St. James, Dan Schulte, Tom Wakeling and the PSU Jazz Ensemble. Another point of interest during the always entertaining week was the swinging trio of Marcus Shelby (upright bass), Darrell Grant (piano) and Devin Phillips (saxophone), who performed three consecutive sets on Friday at LV’s Uptown.
As I found out from the performers during a break between sets, Leroy was a pervasive figure in everyone’s life. Phillips, who recently moved to Portland from New Orleans, didn’t know who Leroy was, but after living in Portland for a while he began to see the intensity with which Leroy has been woven into the fabric of Portland jazz.
“I think that every city has a figurehead like Leroy,” Phillips mused. “In New Orleans we have Ellis Marsalis who is this kind of central presence that everyone knows, and it seems like Leroy held that position in Portland.”
Shelby, a very well-respected bassist from San Francisco, had more to say about Leroy as a personal influence:
“I think Leroy helped to define what it means to walk the bass. In the same way that you can forget about your heart beating, Leroy worked to create an idiom where any cat he was playing with could just forget about the bass line and just trust that it’ll keep on pulsing. Leroy just took a lot of joy in walking the bass, and in supporting the rest of the cats on stage with him. So it’s easy for me to see how Leroy’s had an impact on me, because I take the same joy in walking the bass, and not worrying if I’m getting ‘enough solo time,’ but just enjoying keeping the structure of a song intact.”
Unlike the last time I visited LV’s, the lounge was packed tight with about 60 people helping the trio find their groove by patting their feet or popping their fingers or clapping their hands or shaking their heads or shaking whatever else they wanted to shake. Interestingly, and I am not yet sure what this says about Portland jazz, but 58 of those 60 people were over the age of 40, with most of them landing closer to 60 than 50. To put it mildly, there were more bald heads and blue hair than a Mr. Clean convention dipped in blueberry syrup.
They weren’t exactly your most diverse or youthful crowd, but they were the most receptive and appreciative audience I had seen in a while. To be sure, the crowd had it’s share of annoying problems: the man sitting next to me, for instance, would constantly say “Hmm -” as if he were critiquing Shelby’s bass playing, but it was always followed by a “Yup,” as if he thought Shelby was veering off track before, but his monosyllabic utterances put him back on the line.
Nonetheless, the trio was a marvelous thing to behold, full of melody as well as anarchic bursts of sound, which was in perfect keeping with the spirit of the sets’ probing, searching theme. They sounded empathetic, as if they had played many times before. Yet there were still enough sparks, particularly during the solo periods, to signal that they were unsure of what the other would play.
The trio reached their zenith late in the second set when they took on a Thelonious Monk composition that was part bop, part blues and a whole lot of love. Adding a bit of off-tempo improvisation, the trio propelled and emphasized the rhythmic swing of the song even harder. The audible maturity that guided Shelby through the familiar, albeit offbeat, chord progressions of the composition was striking; his nimble reflexes and split-second timing not only rendered the song superior to the others that night, but had everyone in the lounge clapping, whistling and watching with childlike awe.
The result of all three sets was thoroughly compelling and unpredictable. However, just because the trio’s song choices and playing weren’t particularly risky doesn’t mean it was limp or complacent. It was straight-ahead hard bop in the best possible sense – accessible but stimulating, engaging and vibrant from beginning to end. That is why if you missed the Leroy Vinnegar Jazz Week this year you should first berate yourself incessantly for the next month due to your utter thoughtlessness, and then mark your mental calendar to attend at least two performances next year when Portland jazz will walk again.