A Verbal Coltrane

EVERY ART has its social commentator. Comic strips have Doonesbury and music has Gil Scott-Heron and Brian Jackson. Listening to a Scott-Heron/Jackson album is an educational experience unrivalled by the "education" obtained from such sources as the makers of Dow Bathroom Cleaner, your local Emmy-award-winning eyewitness news team or your favorite daytime game show. It's an experience that gives insight into answers to questions the game show wouldn't ask or events the news team wouldn't cover. It's really a musical eyeglass cleaner.

Scott-Heron and Jackson have a message for everybody from the junkie in "Angel Dust" to he politicians in "Three Miles Down" in their latest encounter with the real world, Secrets. Secrets is part of a chain of messages that began in the early '70s. An earlier Scott-Heron/Jackson album, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, first called attention to the artists who sketched a scenario of the world's last revolution. Scott-Heron, who is also a poet, wrote a book of revolutionary verse prior to the release of his first politicized album, Winter in America. The album included such "H2O-G-A-T-E Blues," a saga about you-know-what and "The Bottle," a track about one man's bout with alcoholism. The real verbal delivery came in South Africa to South Carolina which delved deep into the upbeat rhythms and punctuated lyrics that have become Scott-Heron/Jackson's trademark.

Scott-Heron and Jackson form a partnership in revolutionizing jazz through perceptual lyrics. Sometimes you may already know the subject and they just relay their opinion. In this partnership, Scott-Heron is more of the lyricist, undeniably an extension of his earlier days as a poet. Jackson, a brilliant flutist, drummer and piano man writes the melody for much of Scott-Heron's news. On the premise that two gifted artists should not be limited in the use of their talent, Scott-Heron and Jackson switch roles, double up and occasionally insert a third party for their creations.

BUT IT'S A MISTAKE to only rave about the lyrics and ignore the music. Scott-Heron and Jackson are jazz musicians who complement the atmosphere of the lyrics with the rhythms and acoustics of their songs. In "Three Miles Down," a song to politicians about coal-mining, the music has three distinct beats, each one in a lower key than the one played before. "Angel Dust" includes mellow backup vocals, giving the song a light, hallucinatory effect. All of their productions attempt to incorporate the setting into music, a testimony to the genius of their creators. The result is not a sermon or a demand but a subtle yet powerful understatement of what's going down.

Scott-Heron and Jackson work together but Scott-Heron has received most of the popular acclaim because the most notable tracks feature his music and lyrics. His music has prompted some to conclude that Scott-Heron is "a verbal John Coltrane," undoubtedly a more accurate description than the "Black Bob Dylan" label. The similarity to Coltrane is slightly evident in "A Prayer For Everybody," the album's most instrumental track. Yet Scott-Heron is a duplicate of no one you have heard before. A true artist can do more than sing the I-love-you-you-love-me routine and make disco hits out of oldies. It is quite possible to dance to Scott-Heron/Jackson music but it has a deeper purpose.

Not all the songs in Secrets have readily understandable subjects. "Angola, Louisiana" is a prison in St. Charles Parrish which confines Gary Tyler, a young teenager railroaded into a first-degree homicide conviction for a murder committed in self-defense. Scott-Heron is saying Tyler's case is not special, it's common. Some people wonder if Scott-Heron/Jackson go far enough and others wonder why they venture so far. Secrets is Scott-Heron/Jackson at their most subdued level. Bridges, the last album prior to Secrets, contains more music and less rhetoric. South Africa to South Carolina, released in 1976, is highly political in content and feverish in rhythm. Secrets manages to strike a balance between these two modes of music. All of their albums include a track about a revolution; in "Third World Revolution," the blend of drums, tenor saxophone and fast-paced lyrics account for the only track reminiscent of the South Africa to South Carolina album. "Better Days Ahead," a mellow reflection of Bridges, also serves to achieve the balance in Secrets.

PROPHETS OF DOOM? Psychics? They are neither. Scott-Heron and Jackson are positive. To be negative would be to say nothing. In "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised," they said, "NBC will not be able to predict the winner at 8:32 or report from 29 districts/There will be no highlights on the 11 o'clock news/The revolution will not be right back after a message about a white tornado, white lightning or white people." The lyrics both serve as a warning and a motivation to become involved. As for proof of any sixth sense, that doesn't exist either. In "Madison Avenue," Scott-Heron says "They can sell sand to a man livin' in the desert/They can sell tuna to the chicken of the sea." There's nothing psychic but there is something sensitive in stating the truth.

Scott-Heron and Jackson have a reason for their music that should quiet all the suspicious speculation about their art. Scott-Heron summed it up in a verse from "Angola, Louisiana": "This song may not reach a whole lot of people persuaded by the truth/But take a look at what's goin' on 'cause it could happen to you." He is so right.