Critic's Review
Brian Olewnick, All Music Guide
One of seven albums commissioned by the Jazz Composers Orchestra, violinist Leroy Jenkins' For Players Only is one of the more loosely organized and, for all its charms, most scattershot of these works. Jenkins, who came to prominence in the superb avant-garde trio the Revolutionary Ensemble, is both an extraordinarily riveting and creative violinist and a composer of intricate, blues-based pieces with an underlying plaintive quality that is quite appealing. For this live recording project he assembled a who's who of the New York improvising community of the mid-'70s and presented them with an odd, fairly awkward structure. The first half of the composition is arranged in suite-like fashion, with briefly stated themes fleshed out by various small groups within the orchestra. It's a nice, loose mix with enticing instrumental flavors, notably the then-young James Emery's guitar and Charles Brackeen's soprano sax and a lovely pastoral theme midway through. Jenkins came up through Chicago's AACM, one of whose tenets was the performer's ability to fully realize a solo recital, regardless of instrument. He puts this credo to an unusual test in the second half of this composition by having each orchestra member play consecutive, individual solos, one after another with no backing, sometimes building on the preceding one, sometimes not. It's a strangely disjointed performance; some of the solos (lasting about one minute each) are intriguing and enjoyable, others desultory. Jenkins himself ends the work with a striking, keening passage but the total effect is decidedly less than the sum of its parts. Over the course of his career, Jenkins composed a number of knotty pieces, and For Players Only ranks right up there. Though an interesting work, newcomers might be better advised to begin with the aforementioned Revolutionary Ensemble, or with other recordings featuring the violinist such as Space Minds, New Worlds, Survival of America or his invigorating duo with drummer Rashied Ali, Swift Are the Winds of Life.
