Clifford Brown

Trumpet · born 30 October 1930 died 26 June 1956

Click for Richard Cook Bio

While other figures of the bop era had drugs as their tragedy, it was left to a car accident to terminate Brown's wonderful contribution to jazz, a cruelty which a half-century later still seems devastating. Born in Wilmington, Delaware, he began on trumpet at 13 and quickly developed a breathtaking facility on the horn. In Philadelphia jam sessions he was a sensation: Fats Navarro especially liked him. He was in a first car crash in 1950, which took him off the scene for a while, but was back in action by 1952 and began making records (with an R&B group led by Chris Powell). He joined Lionel Hampton's touring band in 1953 and went with them to Europe, where he made some informal recordings (away from Hamp's watchful eye). In February 1954 he was back in New York and with Art Blakey's new Jazz Messengers: their Birdland recordings on Blue Note are enthralling, as were the results of Brown's next and as it turned out final association, a quintet co-led with Max Roach, based in California. What Brown did was sew together the best qualities of the bop players who had preceded him – Gillespie's full-tilt ebullience, Navarro's big sound, Miles Davis's melodious appeal – and intensify them, in one forthright style. He could get all over the horn with incomparable fluency, his high range as easily covered as his middle and low, but this was amplified by his voluptuous sound and vibrato and the joyful assurance he seemed able to switch on without any warming-up passages. As a ballad player he might have been the best the trumpet could muster at that time, making even the promising Davis seem like a beginner, and Emarcy recorded him with strings and as an accompanist to Sarah Vaughan. Following his work through – luckily, he was extensively set down both in the studios and in live recordings in his brief heyday – he seems to get better and better as he goes on, his later live recordings almost unbelievably skilled and exciting. The final icing was his composing, which again had the marks of natural greatness: Joy Spring, Daahoud, Blues Walk and others have the easy stride of a writer who had music spilling out of him. But it all came to an abrupt end in June 1956, in a crash on a rainy Pennsylvania night, which also killed pianist Richie Powell and robbed jazz of one of its golden princes. Who can tell what he might have gone on to achieve?

Biography from Richard Cook's Jazz Encyclopedia (2005).

If you'd like more information, check out The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz (2002) or The Biographical Encyclopedia of Jazz (2007), both of which are still in print.