Eddie Harris

Eddie Harris remained overlooked for years among jazz’s most celebrated figures, even as he distinguished himself through an inventive approach to the saxophone and an enduring drive to explore fresh sounds. Audiences embraced him far more readily than many reviewers, who often faulted him whenever his projects achieved wider commercial appeal. His musical interests spanned the full range of African American idioms, several of which jazz traditionalists rejected outright. Technically assured enough for intricate bebop yet capable of the measured lyricism associated with the cool West Coast manner, Harris also pursued accessible jazz-pop, fusion colored by rock and funk, free improvisation, unusual electronic textures, novel hybrids of conventional instruments, blues singing, and even humorous material. Because much of this activity fell beyond the limits reviewers accepted as authentic, serious jazz, they frequently dismissed him as either overly commercial or excessively gimmick-driven. His extensive discography is admittedly inconsistent, with some experiments proving less successful than others; nevertheless, the strength of his finest recordings has grown increasingly evident over time. Among his notable achievements, Harris became the first jazz musician to earn a gold record with his 1961 adaptation of the theme from the film Exodus; he earned widespread recognition as the foremost exponent of the electric Varitone saxophone, showcased on the 1967 album The Electrifying Eddie Harris; he composed the piece “Freedom Jazz Dance,” which Miles Davis transformed into a standard; and he created original instruments by swapping brass and reed mouthpieces. In addition, his 1969 appearance with Les McCann at the Montreux Jazz Festival yielded the album Swiss Movement, which ranks among the highest-selling jazz releases ever.

Born in Chicago on October 20, 1934, Harris began singing in church at age five and soon taught himself to play hymns on piano. During part of high school he attended Du Sable, where band director Walter Dyett instructed him on vibraphone; that exacting teacher shaped numerous leading South Side jazz artists, including Nat King Cole, Johnny Griffin, Gene Ammons, Julian Priester, and others such as Bo Diddley. Harris later returned to piano, added tenor saxophone, and pursued formal studies at Roosevelt College. His first professional engagement came as pianist for Gene Ammons, and he also sat in with Charlie Parker and Lester Young. After college he entered military service; while stationed in Europe he won a spot in the 7th Army band alongside Don Ellis, Leo Wright, and Cedar Walton. Once discharged, he settled briefly in New York, performing chiefly on piano wherever opportunities arose. Harris came back to Chicago in 1960 and signed with the locally based Vee Jay label, better known for its rhythm-and-blues and blues roster. Although contracted as a pianist, he played only tenor saxophone on his debut album. Released in 1961 as Exodus to Jazz, the record became one of jazz’s unexpected commercial triumphs. Its centerpiece was an unhurried treatment of Ernest Gold’s “Exodus” theme from the biblical epic; despite its unlikely origins, the shortened single version reached the lower portion of the pop Top 40, driving the LP to number two on the pop album charts and making it the first jazz album certified gold.

Critics often attacked Harris for courting popularity, even while his technical skill went unacknowledged; he produced so pure and effortless a sound in the upper register that many listeners mistook his tenor for alto or soprano. Hurt by the reception, he avoided performing “Exodus” live for an extended period, yet he continued recording for Vee Jay over the next two years, sometimes repeating the movie-theme formula. None matched the original’s sales, though all performed solidly. In 1964 he moved to Columbia, maintaining a comparable direction that occasionally incorporated orchestral arrangements. Switching to Atlantic in 1965, Harris restored his jazz standing with The In Sound, a straight-ahead bop session that introduced “Freedom Jazz Dance,” later interpreted by Miles Davis on Miles Smiles. The follow-up, 1966’s Mean Greens, featured his initial use of electric piano; later that year, on The Tender Storm, he first explored the electric Varitone saxophone, a standard horn equipped with amplification and signal processing for varied tonal colors. The instrument anchored 1967’s The Electrifying Eddie Harris, a blues-inflected, funk-tinged soul-jazz landmark that established Harris as one of the rare saxophonists to forge a personal voice on the electric model fully suited to its sonic possibilities. A new version of “Listen Here,” originally heard on The Tender Storm, became another major single, peaking just outside the R&B Top Ten and propelling the album to number two on the R&B LP chart. Subsequent releases—Plug Me In, High Voltage, and the Echoplex-rich Silver Cycles—kept Harris’s electrified jazz-funk prominent on both jazz and R&B charts through 1968–1969, regularly reaching the jazz Top Five and the R&B Top 40.

At the 1969 Montreux Jazz Festival, Harris joined Les McCann’s working group; although they had no rehearsal, their onstage rapport proved immediate, resulting in the album Swiss Movement credited to both artists. Driven by the hit tracks “Compared to What” and “Cold Duck Time,” the set climbed to number two on the R&B charts and joined the ranks of jazz’s all-time best sellers. Harris’s own projects meanwhile grew more adventurous, sometimes verging on the eccentric. The 1970 album Come On Down! leaned toward jazz-rock and included Harris singing through his horn’s effects unit. He also devised new instruments, notably the reed trumpet—a trumpet fitted with a saxophone mouthpiece, featured on Free Speech (1970) and Instant Death (1971)—and the saxobone, which paired a saxophone with a trombone mouthpiece. Eddie Harris Sings the Blues (1972) extended the idea of vocalizing through the horn, often producing unconventional effects, while E.H. in the U.K. (1973) took him to Britain for jazz-rock sessions with Steve Winwood, Albert Lee, and Jeff Beck. The atmospheric, electronics-heavy Is It In (1974) stands among his most successful experiments. Later albums such as I Need Some Money, Bad Luck Is All I Have, and That Is Why You’re Overweight ranged widely yet emphasized comic R&B vocals without electronic processing.

Although his sales remained respectable for a jazz artist, they declined after 1975’s The Reason Why I’m Talking Shit, which replaced humorous songs with extended stand-up comedy routines and minimal music. The shift proved too unconventional, and audiences largely stayed away. Consequently, the eclectic How Can You Live Like That? (1976) attracted little notice, and Harris left Atlantic by 1978. He recorded two albums for RCA in 1979: the subdued fusion effort I’m Tired of Driving and the solo project Playing With Myself, on which he overdubbed horn lines atop his own piano. He soon moved on; throughout the 1980s and 1990s he worked primarily with smaller labels including SteepleChase, Enja, Timeless, and Flying Heart. These sessions returned him to acoustic hard bop, most often in quartet settings. His final studio work dates from the mid-1990s; bone cancer and kidney disease eventually forced him to retire from performing. Harris died in Los Angeles on November 5, 1996, roughly six months after a last concert in his native Chicago.