Los Angeles Jazz Hero
California
“The connection between the church music and the blues music is very clear, at least it was to me,” Bobby Bradford told me in 2003. “Just a difference in the words. Same music.”
That may hold true, but through his horns, mostly cornet, Bradford doesn’t so much preach the gospel of jazz and blues. What you hear is more like common humanity informed by spiritual humility and emotional imagination: He makes you a member of his congregation. That outreach for communion is in his conversation, too — direct and attentive, with a touch of humor. Those qualities as a performer and an educator have made him an invaluable evangelist of jazz, especially in the Los Angeles area, for more than 70 years.
Born in Mississippi, Bradford grew up in Texas and L.A. It was in Angel City that he put down roots in the early 1950s, and made connections with then-unknown fellow Texan Ornette Coleman (he’s heard playing with Coleman on Science Fiction, recorded in 1971). Some of his other major L.A. alliances have been with clarinetist John Carter, with whom Bradford performed and recorded for decades; saxist David Murray, one of his student protégés, and multi-windman Vinny Golia, with whom he can be frequently heard in joyful duet.
Bradford also draws a touch of social consciousness into his music. His duo performances with tuba man William Roper as CuZns or Purple Gums often include improvisational humor that shows little tolerance for delicate classist sensibilities. When presenting his boplicious Stealin’ Home — A Jackie Robinson Suite, Bradford not only referenced Robinson’s rupture of baseball’s color barrier, but praised the fact that this great star, without regard for pay or glory, taught basketball at a small high school. Bradford’s own 60-some years of teaching improvisation and jazz history at Pasadena City College and Pomona College go unmentioned. (He’s retired from that now, but still available for one-off lectures).
When the subject of jazz in L.A. arises, Bradford’s name inevitably comes up. He knows the history, he knows the players, he plays like a wild saint and people want him around for the celebrations, the talks and the tributes, because they dig his vibe. Maybe that’s called leading by example.
At age 90, Bradford lost his home — as did Roper, Bennie Maupin and many other musicians among the affected thousands — in January 2025’s Eaton Fire that ravaged Altadena, the unincorporated area in Los Angeles County that has long been known for its middle class African American community. This has not stopped him. Undeterred by catastrophe, still playing (often with Roper), wise elder Bobby Bradford keeps going, in our eyes heroically.
— Greg Burk
MetalJazz
