Larry Willis - 1974 - Inner Crisis

Larry Willis

1974 

Inner Crisis

01. Out On The Coast 4:30

02. 153rd Street Theme 6:43

03. Inner Crisis 6:25

04. Bahamian Street Dance 4:32

05. For A Friend 6:58

06. Journey's End 7:11

Bass – Eddie Gomez, Roderick Gaskin

Electric Piano, Piano [Acoustic] – Larry Willis

Drums – Al Foster, Warren Benbow

Guitar – Roland Prince

Tenor Saxophone, Soprano Saxophone – Harold Vick

Trombone – Dave Bargeron

The Pianist Who Could Do It All (With Style and a Side of Sass)

First, let's meet the man behind the keys. Lawrence Elliott Willis (1942–2019) was a Harlem-born jazz pianist who started life aspiring to be an opera singer—yes, really. Picture a teenage Larry belting arias instead of boogie-woogie. He studied voice at the High School of Music and Art, then music theory at the Manhattan School of Music, but jazz snuck in like an uninvited (yet welcome) guest. By 19, alto sax legend Jackie McLean scooped him up after hearing him play, and Willis made his recording debut on McLean's fiery 1965 Blue Note album Right Now!. From there, his career was a whirlwind: sideman stints with heavyweights like Hugh Masekela, Cannonball Adderley, Dizzy Gillespie, Woody Shaw, Stan Getz, and even a seven-year rock detour as keyboardist for Blood, Sweat & Tears (because why not trade bebop for brass-rock anthems?).

Willis was the ultimate musical chameleon—free jazz, fusion, Afro-Cuban, hard bop, you name it. He composed standards, arranged for orchestras, and later in life earned Grammy nods with Jerry Gonzalez's Fort Apache Band. He passed in 2019 at 76 from an aneurysm, leaving behind hundreds of sessions and a legacy as one of jazz's most versatile (and underrated) pianists. Humorously, his piano teacher once warned him: "The piano is the most complicated machine man ever invented—88 to 10 odds against you every time." Willis clearly beat the odds, turning those keys into gold.

Inner Crisis (1973/1974): The Album That Grooves Without Selling Its Soul

Released on Groove Merchant in 1974 (recorded in 1973), Inner Crisis is Willis's second leader date and a shining gem of mid-1970s electric jazz-funk. At a time when many jazzers were either going full fusion (think over-the-top synths and rock drums) or clinging to acoustic purity, Willis threaded the needle: soulful grooves, tight compositions, and real jazz improvisation, all without descending into cheesiness. AllMusic's Thom Jurek calls it "one of the very finest examples of electric jazz-funk from the mid-'70s," praising how Willis prioritizes ensemble playing over ego-driven solos. It's accessible yet deep—catchy enough to nod along, sophisticated enough to reward repeated listens. Critics and fans (on sites like Rate Your Music and Reddit) hail it as a lost classic, with strong ratings and comments like "head and shoulders above the rest of Groove Merchant."

The lineup is stacked, split into two configurations for variety (like Willis couldn't decide on one killer band and said, "Why not both?"):

Core trio on all tracks: Larry Willis (Fender Rhodes electric piano, acoustic piano), Harold Vick (tenor/soprano sax), Roland Prince (guitar).

Group A (tracks 1, 4? variations noted): Dave Bargeron (trombone), Eddie Gómez (bass), Warren Benbow (drums).

Group B: Roderick Gaskin (bass), Al Foster (drums).

Out on the Coast (4:30) – Uptempo funk opener with driving rhythms.

153rd Street Theme (6:43) – Loping sax lines over deep bass grooves.

Inner Crisis (6:25) – The shimmering modal title track.

Bahamian Street Dance (4:32) – Caribbean-infused groover.

For a Friend (6:58) – Tender acoustic piano ballad.

Journey's End (7:11) – Blissful, lyrical closer.

Where the Magic (and the Groove) Happens

Technically, Inner Crisis is a masterclass in balancing 1970s electric jazz elements without the pitfalls. Willis leans heavily on the Fender Rhodes for that warm, bell-like tone—iconic in jazz-funk for its percussive attack and sustain. No cheesy synths here; it's pure Rhodes soul, evoking Herbie Hancock's Head Hunters era but more restrained and ensemble-focused. Willis plays as a team player: his comping supports the horns and guitar, while his solos are lyrical, blues-infused, and rhythmically locked-in. On the ballad "For a Friend," he switches to acoustic piano for pure emotional clarity—proving he didn't need electricity to shine.

Harmonically, the tunes draw from modal jazz (nodding to Miles Davis's In a Silent Way in the title track's shimmering expansiveness) with soul/blues cadences in the long head melodies. Rhythmically, it's tight funk: bass lines (Gómez's walking agility vs. Gaskin's solid pocket) and drums (Foster's crisp swing-funk, Benbow's energy) drive infectious grooves that flirt with disco pulse but stay rooted in jazz swing. Harold Vick's sax work is a highlight—underrecorded in his career, he delivers soaring, expressive solos with soprano adding ethereal bites. Roland Prince's guitar adds wah-wah funk and clean lines, while Bargeron's trombone brings brassy depth.

The album avoids "sterile fusion tropes" by emphasizing composition and group interplay: heads are memorable and extended, solos build organically, and the funk feels organic, not forced. It's jazz-funk that dances without tripping over its own feet—soulful, improvisational, and endlessly groovy. If this album had an inner crisis, it was probably deciding whether to make you dance or contemplate life; luckily, it does both flawlessly.

In short, Inner Crisis is a underrated banger that deserves more spins. Dust off your turntable (or stream it)—Larry Willis might just resolve your own inner crisis with a killer riff. Highly recommended for fans of 70s jazz-funk that actually swings