Only those who live in a secluded shack on the moors will fail to notice that jazz drummer John Engels soon to turn 80. He has been a guest on television programmes such as VPRO Free Sounds and the special jazz edition of The World Turned Door, and will be honoured on his birthday 13 May with a celebration concert at the Bimhuis. Also published was the small-scale biography Hey, bird, when are we playing again? by jazz publicist Jeroen de Valk.
The title is aptly chosen, as anyone looking at the tour schedule of his festive Bird Free Tour watching, one can observe that the (almost) octogenarian is still bubbling with energy. In more than 20 concerts from April to October, he drums in various formations, including the specially created John Engels Quintet (with Benjamin Herman, alto sax; Ruud Breuls, trumpet; Rob van Bavel, piano and Ruud Ouwehand, bass) and the original line-up of the Louis van Dijk Trio (with Jacques Schols on bass).
He would even perform again with composer and saxophonist Theo Loevendie, with whom he wrote history in the 1950s and 1960s in his own Consort and Trio and with Boy Edgar's big band. Unfortunately, Loevendie had to cancel the live performances due to his weak constitution, and will be replaced by Jan Menu and Tineke Postma. For the Bird Free Tour Loevendie did arrange a number of pieces he has played and recorded with Engels in the past.
Jeroen de Valk seems the dream biographer of the internationally renowned master drummer, having previously written standard works on jazz legends Chet Baker and Ben Webster. But they were already dead when he started their biography. I know from my own experience that it can be a perilous undertaking to describe the life and work of a still fully active person, no matter how carefully and respectfully you do it.
Indeed, De Valk mentions 'struggles' in his introduction, but apparently these did not hinder the eventual publication. Apparently, Engels has also overcome his initial timidity in front of the recording device, as he proves himself a smooth talker. Generously, he peppered his causations with typical 1970s slang like 'personality'(by which he refers to musicians he admires) and 'bird' (used for any other individual) - which found its way into the title.
De Valk, himself a jazz bassist, does not hide his admiration. He describes how, around the age of 20, he played Engels' records with the Louis van Dijk Trio grey and eagerly attended concerts and jam sessions. He was an "immoderate admirer. Because every record, every concert with John lived'. When he was asked to record a CD with Engels on drums in 2014, he couldn't believe his luck. Then the desire to dedicate a biography to his hero also germinated.
Hey, bird, when are we playing again? is mainly based on interviews with the main character, supplemented with memories of his sister Truus and musicians like Louis van Dijk, Jacques Schols, Pierre Courbois and the younger guard like Jarmo Hoogendijk, Fay Claassen and De Valk himself. So we get a good picture of the busy and successful life of John Engels, who grew up in a family of 13 children. As a drummer, father moves from place to place, barely manages to remember his family and forgets the names of his ever-expanding children. - A reason for John jr. not to bring any offspring into the world.
Against his father's wishes, he chooses a career as a drummer, just like his sister Truus and two of his brothers. With the help of Uncle Ab, who also plays drums, he scraps together his first drum kit. He soon fell in love with bebop. He gained experience at the jazz club De Vliegende Hollander in Scheveningen, run by pianist Pia Beck, in Germany and at the Sheherazade in Amsterdam. In the early 1960s, he even becomes the owner of 'Zade', together with his fellow musicians from the Diamond Five, founded a few years earlier.
This band worked with Ramses Shaffy and as a whole formed part of Boy Edgar's big band. Increasingly, Engels also plays with American jazz musicians such as Stan Getz, Dexter Gordon and Ben Webster. They invariably marvel at how a non-black drummer can still swing. He himself states that he always drums from the melody, even at the lightning-fast 'Jesu tempo' that is characteristic of Americans. According to him, you can only keep up with this if you 'play a much slower tempo' in your mind, like in a ballad.
Unlike his fellow musicians, John Engels hates pauses, only coming alive on stage: 'Pausing is something you do in your coffin!' And indeed, even when his beloved wife Erika Frank dies in 1984, he keeps on playing: 'Music saved my life.' His tireless urge to play is confirmed by the other informants, who exhaust themselves in eulogies. Jarmo Hoogendijk sums it up succinctly: 'Always the roof goes off.'
Jeroen de Valk's biography is lavishly illustrated, with unique photos from John Engels' private archive and the Dutch Jazz Archive. The book contains a wealth of anecdotes and reads comfortably. Critical comments are lacking and it has the feel of a liber amicorum. Engels could not have wished for a nicer birthday present.