A week of jazz and blues in San Francisco, part II

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from Archie Shepp. One of the avant-leaning fire-breathers of the '60s and '70s, the saxophonist rarely performs Stateside these days, and I had heard mixed reports about the state of his chops. But when he took the stage of the stately Herbst Theater, one of SF Jazz Fest's main venues in the War Memorial downtown, I was put at ease as soon as he put reed to lips. Sounding strong and lively, Shepp began with a tune in tribute to the late pianist Elmo Hope, which started out as a ballad but developed into a hardbop swinger.

Attired in a sharp charcoal suit and fedora, the 71-year-old Shepp (a Fort Lauderdale native!) appeared dapper and in full command of his excellent band featuring Tom McClung on piano, Avery Sharpe on bass and the exceptional Ronnie Burrage on drums. As far out as he's traveled, Shepp has always remained connected to the blues, and he offered some honky-tonk choruses during a read of "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" on which he also took a vocal turn, playfully shouting the blues and affecting an Ernie Andrews-style phrasing. The leader also brought Burrage up front to demonstrate a lightning-handed hambone, relating it back to African and slave tradition before launching into a very moving piece about New Orleans that made use of both singing and spoken-word performance ("Take this cannibal's kiss and turn it into a revolution") and evoked the best of his '60s-'70s work. Other highlights included a celebratory song he wrote for his daughter — titled "Ujama," it also relates to Kwaanza; and a nice read of "Lush Life," on which Shepp took the vocal lead in classic balladeer style, and perhaps in recognition of John Coltrane's gorgeous version, blew a breathtaking solo that seemed to echo Trane's tone. But best of all was "Steam," the beautiful sing-song melody that has captivated me since I first heard it on Shepp's 1972 recording Attica Blues. Explaining that he wrote it for a cousin who was killed in a knife fight when he was just a teenager, he proceeded to sing the sighing melody and blew some lovely lines on soprano sax. I couldn't get the song out of my head, and whistled it all the way back to my hotel.

STILL TO COME: Cecil at Grace Cathedral, Marilyn Crispell at the Florence Gould and Maceo Parker on the one