#don burrows

Don Burrows Quartet - Sweet Emma (Red Lion, Mainstream)

NOT SUCH A COOL YULE… A SEASONAL OFFERING REVISITED

This piece was originally published at Vinyl Connection in 2014. It is re-posted because I still rather like it and hope others who have stumbled across the blog in the intervening years might enjoy it too. * The first half of 1977 was spent sitting in my room. It wasn’t locked; I just couldn’t find many reasons for leaving. Other than one friendly human being, companionship came in the form of…

It would be remiss of me to end this first week of #one-jazz-track-a-day without paying tribute to Don Burrows who passed away earlier this month at the age of 91. His funeral and memorial have been put on hold due to the current pandemic.

I won’t write up here just how significant Don was to Australian Jazz - others have already done that much better than I could.

Don was the first link in the chain that led to my love of Jazz. I remember listening to Don Burrows albums with my dad in the 70's and 80's. While he was a multi instrumentalist (a reedsman) it was his flute tracks that stood out to me - perhaps because jazz flute was so unusual. I remember the crazy rhythms and percussion instruments on his album with Chris Hinze, Flute Salad — Brazilian, reggae, Indian – all tossed in together like an exotic salad.

I can hear dad’s enthusiasm when he told me about this new young talent and teenage protege Don was mentoring, James Morrison. We listened to Don and James play together on ABC radio, absolutely rapt. I had no idea at the time, I would one day get the chance to sing with James, or that many years later, my son Oliver would study jazz with him for three years.

Don Burrows and James Morrison had a life long close relationship. James, Judy and their sons would visit him regularly. The boys called him “grand Don” as he was like a grandfather to them. As Don aged and needed care, the mentor roles reversed, and it was just natural for James to look after Don.

I remember James and Judy telling me after one visit, how Don’s Alzheimer’s had progressed and how he struggled remembering how to play or get started. He was disoriented and not really with it, but James started playing, and Don came alive, at least for a while.

Unfortunately, I can’t find any of Don’s early albums online, certainly none of the ones I remember from my dad’s collection. So I have chosen one of Don’s compositions (flute of course) from 1990, which I don’t recall having heard before, but it captures a bit some of the sound and style I remember from my boyhood.

I hope you enjoy The Daintree Drift.

Vale Don.

Don Burrows - Wikipedia

Kaffir Song - The Don Burrows Quartet