Unsung Jazz Warriors, Part 2

Diving Headfirst into the Spiritual Vortex: Doug Carn's Infant Eyes

Doug and Jean Carn

Born on a warm July day in 1948, Doug Carn didn't just grow up; he flourished in the rich tapestry of Southern culture. While other boys tossed baseballs, young Doug wrestled with oboe reeds and piano keys. He chased melodies that seemed just out of reach for ordinary musicians. Jacksonville University tried to contain his talent, offering him a place to study oboe and composition. But the walls of academia couldn't hold him. Georgia State College gave it a try too, but by 1969, Carn was carving his own path through the jazz underbrush.

In the 1970s, a time of social change and musical experimentation, Black Jazz Records became Doug Carn's playground. The label cared little for commercial success and focused on capturing the raw essence of spiritual jazz. Carn's albums—*Infant Eyes*, *Spirit of the New Land*, *Revelation*, and *Adam's Apple*—were not just records; they were journeys through the cosmos of human consciousness.

His then-wife, Jean Carn, was more than a collaborator; she embodied the spirit he was channeling. Her voice spanned five octaves and didn't just complement his music—it ignited it. Together, they crafted compositions that weren’t just songs, but conversations with the universe.

Watching Carn command the Hammond B-3 organ was like witnessing a maestro summon elements from thin air. His fingers glided over the keys, each note a deliberate step between the earthly and the ethereal. It was jazz infused with soul, gospel, and a strong dose of social consciousness that left you feeling enlightened and yearning for more.

I've been listening to Doug Carn's music since the early '70s and was in attendance at a 1974 Carnegie Hall concert featuring Doug Carn, Carlos Garnett, and Lonnie Liston Smith with the Cosmic Echoes. In a lifetime of jazz listening, filled with unforgettable live performances, that concert has stayed with me. The music that night transcended mere sound—it elevated my spirit and brought me closer to something greater, something cosmic. Even now, when I listen, I feel that same energy reconnecting me to the universe, as if the vibrations themselves carry the essence of creation, reminding me that music has the power to awaken a deeper sense of connection to all that exists. It resonates not just with the ear, but with the soul, reminding us of our place in the vast, mysterious universe.

In the 21st century, interest in Carn's work resurged, as if the world finally caught up to his vision. Reissues of his classic albums sparked a renaissance among jazz enthusiasts and newcomers alike, all eager to explore the spiritual depths his music offers.

Fate brought Doug and Jean together again. Since 2010, they have graced stages once more, their chemistry undimmed by time. Performances at Ronnie Scott's in London and Lincoln Center in New York City stand as testaments to their enduring legacy.

Doug Carn is not just a footnote in jazz history; he's a beacon for those yearning for depth in a superficial world. His journey—a blend of raw talent, relentless passion, and unshakable faith in the transformative power of music—reminds us that profound truths aren't always shouted from mountaintops but whispered through melodies that resonate with our very core.

Infant Eyes

In 1971, the world stood on the edge of profound change. Amidst this upheaval, Doug Carn released **Infant Eyes**. This wasn't just another record spinning aimlessly; it was the birth of spiritual soul-jazz, creating a new genre in a single stroke.

Just two years before, Carn had put out a slick organ trio record for Savoy. A cool move, but merely the calm before the storm. With **Infant Eyes**, his debut on Black Jazz Records, he didn't just step onto the stage; he ignited a creative explosion. Featuring the mesmerizing vocals of his then-wife, Jean Carn, the album rose beyond mere music into the realm of the transcendent.

Carn didn't settle for his own composition, "Moon Child." He wove lyrical gold into the works of giants—John Coltrane, Bobby Hutcherson, Wayne Shorter, Horace Silver. He penned evocative lyrics for Jean, turning complex compositions into soulful journeys that defied ordinary music. And his charts weren't just complex; they were masterpieces that made his sextet sound like a full orchestra from another dimension. He wasn’t just putting notes together. He was shaping new worlds, bending time and space with his sound.

This monumental session also marked the recording debuts of powerhouse drummer Michael Carvin and bassist Henry Franklin—the same Henry Franklin who would shake the jazz world with another Black Jazz release, **The Skipper** the following year. Also on board, saxophonist and flutist George Harper, trombonist Al Hall Jr., and trumpeter Bob Frazier.

At its core, the album showcased the interplay between Franklin and Carn, an intimate a conversation between old souls driven by Carvin’s tasteful, propulsive percussion. Jean Carn didn't just sing; she brought the lyrics to life with a voice that cut through the air. And trombonist Al Hall emerged not as background but as a second voice, weaving its own haunting story.

**Infant Eyes** arrived at a pivotal moment—a crossroads where the familiar met the uncharted. With the release of Bitches Brew, the catalyst for jazz fusion, **Infant Eyes) invited listeners to explore new dimensions of sound. Doug and Jean Carn didn't just release an album; they crafted a bold, Afro-centric approach to jazz, a shift that resonated through the halls of jazz and beyond.

In the tapestry of music history, **Infant Eyes** stands out like a vivid brushstroke on a blank canvas—a daring blend of soul, spirit, and raw creativity. It's not just a record; it's a journey that demands your complete surrender. Listening to it isn't just hearing music; it's an initiation into a transformative experience.

Listen to the YouTube playlist for all the music on Doug Carn’s Infant Eyes.

For an interesting contrast, check out Doug’s two takes on Bobby Hutcherson’s “Little B’ Poem.”

From 1971’s Infant Eyes with lyrics by Doug Carn. Doug Carn, Keyboards; Henry Franklin, bass; Michael Carvin, drums; Bob Frazier, trumpet; Al Hall, Jr., trombone; George Frazier on tenor saxophone and Jean Carn, vocals.

From 2019’s Free For All, Doug Carn and His West Coast Organ Band with Doug Carn on organ, Howard Wiley and Dr. Teodross Avery on tenor saxophones and Deszon Clairborne on drums.