Don Pullen - 1977 - Tomorrow's Promises

Don Pullen

1977 

Tomorrow's Promises

01. Big Alice

02. Autumn Song 5:11

03. Poodie Pie 6:40

04. Kadji 8:54

05. Last Year's Lies And Tomorrow's Promises 5:37

06. Let's Be Friends 7:36

Drums – Tyronne Walker

Electric Bass – John Flippin

Guitar – Roland Prince, Sterling Magee

Percussion – Ray Mantilla

Piano, Electric Piano – Don Pullen

Tenor Saxophone – George Adams

Trumpet – Randy Brecker

Violin – Michal Urbaniak

Bass – Alex Blake 

Drums – Bobby Battle

Electronics – Ilhan Mimaroglu

Tenor Saxophone – George Adams

Trumpet – Hannibal Marvin Peterson

Don Pullen's Tomorrow's Promises (1977): When Avant-Garde Jazz Tries on a Funky Disco Shirt

Don Pullen – the man who could make a piano sound like it was simultaneously attending church, throwing a tantrum, and leading a revolution – was one of jazz's most fearless explorers. Born on Christmas Day 1941 in Roanoke, Virginia, young Don grew up in a musical family, tinkering on the keys early and playing organ in church choirs (the kind where "amen" comes with serious gospel fire). Influenced by his cousin, professional pianist Clyde "Fats" Wright, and later blown away by Art Tatum's elegance and the free-form chaos of Ornette Coleman and Eric Dolphy, Pullen ditched medical studies for the wild world of jazz.

By the 1960s, he was deep in the avant-garde scene: duets with drummer Milford Graves that sounded like controlled explosions, gigs on organ backing R&B acts to pay bills, and stints with Giuseppi Logan. He studied with Muhal Richard Abrams in Chicago, soaked up free jazz in New York, and even played with Nina Simone. But his big break came in 1973 when he joined Charles Mingus's band – recommending his buddy George Adams on sax along the way. Pullen's percussive, cluster-bomb piano style (elbows, fists, the works) fit Mingus like a glove, appearing on classics like Changes One and Changes Two. Post-Mingus, he formed the explosive George Adams/Don Pullen Quartet in 1979, blending post-bop, gospel grooves, and outright freedom until his tragic death from lymphoma in 1995 at age 53. Pullen wasn't just a player; he was a bridge between gospel soul, blues grit, and avant-garde fury – often all in one solo.

Now, Tomorrow's Promises – his 1977 Atlantic Records debut as leader – is the album where Pullen briefly flirts with accessibility, like a free-jazz wild child trying to sneak into a disco without scaring the normals. Recorded in 1976-77 at Atlantic Studios in New York (with a few sessions spilling over), produced by the avant-electronic wizard İlhan Mimaroğlu, this is Pullen dipping toes into jazz-funk waters while keeping one foot firmly in chaos. It's a major-label shot after years in the underground, clocking in at about 44 minutes across six tracks. The opener "Big Alice" became a near-standard (a funky, upbeat groover), and the whole thing feels like Pullen saying, "Okay, world, here's something you can dance to... mostly."

This isn't a tight band affair; it's a revolving door of heavy hitters, making it feel like a jazz-funk all-star jam with avant twists. Core player: George Adams on tenor/soprano sax, flute, and bass clarinet – Pullen's Mingus-era soulmate, bringing raw emotion and squealing intensity. Guitars by Roland Prince (that smooth Antiguan jazz cat from Elvin Jones's band) and Sterling Magee, adding crisp rhythms and funky edges. Trumpets: Randy Brecker on the opener for that bright punch, and the fiery Hannibal Marvin Peterson (aka Hannibál Lokumbe) on several tracks. Bass duties split between John Flippin (electric) and Alex Blake; drums/percussion from Bobby Battle, Tyronne Walker, and conga master Ray Mantilla. Special guests: Polish violinist Michal Urbaniak slicing through "Big Alice," Mimaroğlu himself on eerie electronics, and vocalist Rita DaCosta closing with a warm, soulful plea on "Let's Be Friends." Pullen handles piano, electric piano, and Clavinet – yes, that funky Hohner keyboard beloved by Stevie Wonder.

Analog warmth from Atlantic's heyday, with a clean yet punchy mix that captures the era's fusion vibe without overpolishing. Pullen's acoustic piano roars with his signature clusters – dense, hammering chords that explode like fireworks – while his electric keys and Clavinet add wah-wah funk and synth-like textures (courtesy of Mimaroğlu's electronic tinkering). The rhythm section grooves hard: tight bass lines lock with percussion for danceable polyrhythms, especially on African-influenced "Kadji" (that 6/8 swing). Horns are brassy and bold, Adams's tenor howling freely at times. Production-wise, it's eclectic – from full-band blowouts to intimate duets – but cohesive enough. Weak spots? Some tracks feel a tad dated in their '70s funk sheen (think bell-bottoms for your ears), and the variety can make it schizophrenic. Strengths: Dynamic range that swings from tender ballads to free excursions, proving Pullen could straddle worlds without selling out.

Oh, Tomorrow's Promises – the album that's equal parts party starter and philosophical musing. Kicking off with the infectious "Big Alice" (10+ minutes of upbeat jazz-funk joy, complete with violin fireworks and trumpet solos), it lures you in like a groovy pied piper. "Autumn Song" slows to nostalgic beauty, "Poodie Pie" rocks out with easy-listening riffs (co-written with Magee and Morgan Burton), and "Kadji" pulses with African rhythms before Pullen unleashes a free-jazz piano rampage. The standout duet "Last Year's Lies and Tomorrow's Promises" is Pullen and Adams trading free/tonal ideas like old friends arguing philosophy over coffee. Closer "Let's Be Friends" features DaCosta's velvety vocals – sweet, but a bit schmaltzy, like the album's attempt at a radio hit.

Humorously, this is Pullen in "commercial mode": imagine a guy who normally elbows the piano into submission deciding to play nice... for about 80% of the record. It's not his wildest (that'd come later with the Quartet), but it's delightfully schizophrenic – funk one minute, free the next. Scott Yanow gave it 4.5 stars, calling it a perfect intro to Pullen's world.

In 1977, amid disco fever and fusion frenzy, it was a modest hit for introducing Pullen to broader audiences via Atlantic's muscle. Critics praised the variety and energy; it sold decently for jazz, with "Big Alice" getting airplay and covers. Not a blockbuster, but it opened doors – European tours followed, and it helped cement his rep as a rhythmic avant-gardist with groove.

Today, Tomorrow's Promises is a cult favorite – that "atypical" Pullen record fans love for its accessibility without compromise. It's the gateway drug to his deeper catalog: the fiery Quartet albums, solo masterpieces like Evidence of Things Unseen, or late-career gems with African-Brazilian Connection. Reissued on CD (Koch, 1999), it's prized by crate-diggers for blending '70s funk with free spirit. Pullen's influence lingers in players who mix gospel fire with abstraction (think Vijay Iyer or Craig Taborn). If Mingus was his wild youth, this album was the charming coming-out party. Hunt it down – it'll make you dance, think, and occasionally laugh at how one man could pack so much into 44 minutes.