We’re living in the era of “vibes.” But before that word was everywhere — before elections had “vibe shifts” and before a first date could be breezily ended because the vibes were just off — there was the instrument that started it all: the vibraphone.
If you aren’t quite sure what that sounds like — well, there’s only one way to describe it. It’s vibey.
Invented in the 1920s as an electrified variation of the marimba, the vibraphone is made out of tuned metal bars, which the player strikes with mallets; a tubular resonator that carries the sound; and a set of electronically controlled fans affecting how much vibrato goes on the notes (that is, how much they warble). Out of this complex contraption wafts a sound that is mellow and ethereal, but starkly rhythmic. After all, the vibraphone is a percussion instrument: Most vibraphonists who double on something else play the drums.
The vibraphone has been a feature of jazz bandstands since about 1930, when a young Lionel Hampton — one of the first improvisers to master it — impressed Louis Armstrong by playing along with the trumpeter’s solos note for note. At Armstrong’s encouragement, he switched from being a full-time drummer to a vibraphonist. As its popularity grew, jazz musicians gave the instrument a nickname: “the vibes,” a term that came to signify not just the instrument’s metal bars and their vibrations but also the hazy, moody feeling that its sound produced.
It is little wonder that, amid the revolutionary grooves of the 1960s, that term made the leap from jazz (and from Black American vernacular) to the general population. In the process, it gave us a slightly more musical way of describing everyday life.
In the nearly 100 years since Hampton’s innovation, the vibraphone has traveled through the many shifts and stages of jazz and Black American music. These days, it’s being played by a broad range of musicians — from straight-ahead swingers to avant-gardists — a number of whom are quoted below. Read on for an array of vibes-heavy tracks, selected by musicians and writers. You can find a playlist at the bottom of the article, and if you have a personal favorite that wasn’t on the list, go ahead and drop it in the comments.
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Joel Ross, vibraphonist
Milt Jackson Quartet, “Dejection Blues”
“Soul Route” is one of the first Milt Jackson albums that I was exposed to when I first started playing vibes. Sonically, this LP is my favorite recorded presentation of the vibraphone; it’s a very contemporary-sounding recording, for having been made in 1984.
Jackson is recognized as one of, if not absolutely, the greatest to ever play the instrument, and he is highly responsible for bringing the language of bebop to the vibes. Although there’s another riff blues that Bags is best known for, this track is another example of his mastery of the blues language, as he navigates the changes with simplicity and exceptional lyricism. The character of the entire quartet is drenched in the church, and they lace that gospel sound together with bebop and the blues ever so seamlessly. All are branches of a tree with the same roots.
The top-tier musicianship and communication among the band makes this one of my favorite comfort listens. It always takes me back to my roots and reminds me of home.
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Gene Seymour, culture writer
Johnny Lytle, “Lela”
If you look up Johnny Lytle (1932-1995) on Google, you’ll find he’s listed primarily as a drummer. And the Springfield, Ohio, native did initially make his mark as drummer with Ray Charles near the start of the latter’s recording career. So, when he moved to the vibraphone, Lytle carried with him the rugged, bottom-heavy dynamics of rhythm & blues. He’s remembered today as an unsung exemplar of organ jazz-funk, a welcome guest at backyard barbecues and happy hours. “The Village Caller,” from the eponymous Riverside album, is the one tune with his name on it that anybody now brings up. But I’m favoring this track from “Happy Ground,” a 1961 album that my father played constantly during the heady New Frontier years and beyond. It signifies what so many listeners dug most about his tough, elemental approach, managing at once to be as straight to the point as a Sonny Liston haymaker, but as light on its feet as a ballroom fox-trotter. You want to be reductionist and call it Tom Collins jazz; I won’t stop you. That, to me, is its overriding virtue.
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Ayana Contreras, critic and radio programmer
Cal Tjader, “Afro-Blue”
Written by the Cuban percussionist Mongo Santamaria, “Afro-Blue” was quickly recorded in 1959 by both Santamaria and the Cal Tjader Sextet (featuring the tune’s composer in the band). Lyrics were retrofitted by the vocalist, activist and playwright Oscar Brown Jr. later that year. Almost immediately, the cut became a standard, and it was ultimately recorded hundreds of times.
Tjader, a vibraphonist, returned to the composition on his album “Soul Sauce,” an essential collection of Latin jazz cookers, first released on Verve Records in 1965. Cal’s intimate understanding of the material results in the magical, levitating quality of his playing: Though his mallets never stray from the groove, they unquestionably inspire a certain suspension of disbelief. This recording is a window into a world of racing hearts: a reverb-drenched sound evocative of a romance played out in a sweaty dance hall in Spanish Harlem, punctuated by the scent of Evening in Paris perfume, a fallen spaghetti strap and a slightly torn pair of stockings.
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Patricia Brennan, vibraphonist
Sun Ra & Walt Dickerson, “Astro”
“Astro,” composed by Walt Dickerson, is the opening track of “Visions,” his 1978 SteepleChase album with Sun Ra. It is one of my favorite duo collaborations, on any instruments. Walt Dickerson has been and continues to be a great inspiration to me. He is an important musical figure that expanded the sonic possibilities of the vibraphone. His approach is free from preconceptions, and he fully serves the needs of the music. Dickerson’s balance of being informed by the past and the present simultaneously creates a profound sense of stability amid exploration. I especially admire his nuances of texture and tone.
“Astro” spotlights his playful spirit and incredible instinct — a beautiful dance between two exploratory sides of his musical personality and soul. Both improvisers display a true sense of presence throughout the whole performance, masterfully answering and completing each other’s musical sentences. It is a lesson in patience, following one’s instinct and letting the music guide the journey.
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John Murph, writer and D.J.
Stefon Harris & Blackout, “For You”
When Stefon Harris formed his Blackout ensemble, it gave him an ideal vehicle to channel his formidable skills as a vibraphonist and composer deeper into R&B aesthetics. Harris’s second Blackout album, “Urbanus” (2009), featured “For You,” a ballad whose soaring melody, written by Sameer Gupta, brims with sensuality and elegance. Graced with enchanting harmonies and amorous lyrics, “For You” was the point where all the beauty of Harris’s orchestral arrangements (in this case, co-written with Casey Benjamin, who also wrote this track’s lyrics), his accord with the band, and his soulful, melodic phrasing on the vibraphone and marimba coalesce into the sexy apex of that album.
Even though Benjamin’s vocoder-powered lead singing takes much of the spotlight, listeners also can’t ignore the enchantment of the chamber arrangement for woodwinds and violin or the undulating magnetism of the bass- and drum-propelled groove. Nor can they disregard Harris’s interactive accompaniment, intertwining with Marc Cary’s dreamy piano accompaniment and Benjamin’s cyborg laments. And when Harris’s marimba emerges from the lulling undercurrent for a solo, his phrasing sashays like a debonair crooner seducing someone onto the dance floor. This is the kind of music that inspires luxurious romantic films.
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Simon Moullier, vibraphonist
Lionel Hampton, “Stardust”
Lionel Hampton is one of the first masters and pioneers of the vibraphone. One of my favorite things about this recording is how deeply rooted his playing is in the drum language. You can feel it in the articulation: Especially as the solo (starting at 9:49) develops, he starts playing more double-strokes (two hits on one note with one hand), a move more often used by drummers. In addition to that, he’s effortlessly switching between rhythmic feels throughout the solo: eighth notes to triplets, and finally to sixteenth notes. By using a lot of grace notes, he links himself to the bebop language of horn players and piano players of that time. And I’ve always admired the way he develops a narrative throughout this whole solo, and the overall pacing of his ideas. He’s really telling a story and not rushing through it. The use of space really gives a poetic quality to his rhythmic approach, creating a powerful contrast.
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Warren Wolf, vibraphonist
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, “Searching”
My relationship to this song actually started with Erykah Badu, when I heard it on her “Live” record from the ’90s. I started doing research and found out that it was a Roy Ayers song. I knew who he was because my dad, who was a musician, would play Roy’s music a lot. So when I finally listened to the original version, I was like: “Wow, this is actually cool.” It has a nice vibes solo toward the end of the tune. In this live clip from “Soul Train,” they’re actually mimicking the original recording, and Roy is playing along to the solo. If you watch closely, they’re not matching it perfectly, but you get a good sense of the sound of the record and the energy in their playing.
Roy Ayers was kind of a godfather of the contemporary vibes. He brought a different element to his sound, compared to everybody else. He started in straight-ahead jazz, but he eventually moved over into funk and groove. And when you listen to this, it just feels good; listeners don’t have to get into any complex ideas or interrogate what a lot of other vibraphonists have done to understand why it’s so powerful. Roy’s music is something you can jam to and have a good time, or you can just sit back and hang out with it in the background. The vibe is always strong.
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Marcus J. Moore, author
Bobby Hutcherson, “Mtume”
Almost two minutes into “Mtume,” one of many highlights on Bobby Hutcherson’s 1971 album “Head On,” the vibraphonist quickens his chord progression. Whether planned or improvised, the bandleader’s acceleration nudges the drummer and conga player to also speed up, creating this stacked triple percussion that I revisit often. It’s a confluence of sounds: drums crashing and stumbling, congas adding polyrhythmic soul, vibes darting in and out of the mix. Listening to it, I’d always assumed the title paid homage to the noted percussionist James Mtume, a luminary in Black classical music known to add sizzle to the work of McCoy Tyner and Albert “Tootie” Heath. Yet the word “mtume” means “messenger” in Swahili, and the song as a whole feels inspired by West African funk, a worthy pivot for Hutcherson, whose previous music didn’t experiment this much. Albums like “Total Eclipse” and “Now!” weren’t especially straight-ahead, but even by Hutcherson’s own standards, “Head On” was a psychedelic left turn that’s never been fully appreciated. There’s a palpable edge to this art, a feeling of rebellion. With “Mtume,” in particular, I’m drawn to the griminess of it, the dirt and the textures. Listen with a furrowed brow.
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Sasha Berliner, vibraphonist
Gary Burton and Chick Corea, “La Fiesta”
This performance is incredibly captivating and dynamic, which was really the signature of Gary Burton’s playing — particularly in duo and solo settings. Burton was one of my earliest influences because he had completely generated his own sound, with a four-mallet grip and approach to the instrument that was at once very contemporary, fluid and soulful. His sense of time and rhythm is so tight, and he pulls off these long, smooth lines tying together melodic phrases or rhythmic interjections in his solo. By this point, he and Chick Corea had performed together for years and years, and it’s clear that they know how to complement each other by playing off and pushing each other musically, without ever stepping on the other’s toes. It’s a hard thing to pull off in a piano duo without drums or bass, but they manage to fill the space that is facilitated by that arrangement without making it seem overwhelming.
“La Fiesta” is a catchy, fun song to play and hear, as are a lot of Chick Corea’s jazz-fusion hits influenced by Flamenco and Spanish music (like “Armando’s Rhumba” and “Spain”). It’s fascinating to see Gary and Chick play this one without the jazz-fusion element and yet make it just as exciting. Gary really plays up its catchiness by harmonizing the melody with his four mallets and using octaves to emphasize the dynamic peaks of the song.
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Nikara Warren, vibraphonist
Steve Nelson Quartet, “Blues All the Time”
Steve Nelson is one of the most important vibraphonists in jazz, with a career as a band leader and as a side person for names like Jackie McLean, Bobby Watson, Mulgrew Miller, Kenny Barron, David “Fathead” Newman, Renee Rosnes, Jeremy Pelt and more. I chose this track because I always loved the warmth and care that Steve Nelson plays with, particularly on ballads. As an improviser, Steve’s influence from Milt Jackson is clear in his blues lines. I love his approach to melodic improvisation. He’s sure not to say too much too quickly. His lines are simple and singable. He uses simple patterns and quotes the melody to keep the listener engaged. The way he helps pick up the energy toward the end of his solo is exciting every time I hear this one. I admire the cats who can play bebop lines with technical accuracy and still have melodic integrity and purpose. Steve is one of the baddest!
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Eugene Holley Jr., jazz journalist
Cecilia Smith, “What’s Your Story Morning Glory”
The Ohio-born, Brooklyn-based vibraphonist Cecilia Smith emerged in the Young Lions era of the 1980s as a Berklee College of Music graduate and classmate of Branford Marsalis, Kevin Eubanks, Cindy Blackman Santana and many other alumni who are household names today. A master of the four-mallet technique, Smith is a descendant of the vibraphone lineage that includes Lionel Hampton, Milt Jackson, Bobby Hutcherson, Gary Burton and Roy Ayers. Her 2023 recording “The Mary Lou Williams Resurgence Project Vol. 1: Small Ensemble Repertoire” is her critically acclaimed tribute to the brilliant pianist, composer and arranger. Smith’s rendition of Williams’s “What’s Your Story Morning Glory” is a slow, 4/4, organ-filled blues, layered with Smith’s luscious comping behind Carla Cook’s vivid vocals, and capped by the vibraphonist’s soulful solo that bridges — in the words of Albert Murray — the Saturday night function and the Sunday morning church service. Simply put: Smith makes the vibes sing and swing.
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Joe Locke, vibraphonist
Warren Wolf, “Intimate Dance”
The vibraphone: 37 cold metal bars sitting on top of aluminum resonators. Not the ideal vehicle for artistic creativity. Yet that is the very thing about the instrument which amazes me — how, in the right hands, it can transcend all of that cold metal and become as expressive as the human voice. Warren Wolf’s “Intimate Dance,” from his first Mack Avenue release, is a case in point. It was written by the pianist Peter Martin, and Warren plays it as a duet with the composer. For me, the track possesses that rare quality of being able to reach anyone with an open heart, not only the informed jazz listener. Played at a languorous tempo, Martin’s melody speaks of a true and deeply felt love, expressed in the quiet space between two people. Warren plays the song with great tenderness, even as he imbues it with the blues.
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The post 5 Minutes That Will Make You Love the Vibraphone appeared first on New York Times.
