Coltrane Time

I recently performed at Jimmy Mak's in Portland with trombonist Steve Turre. In addition to having drummer Charlie Doggett on the bandstand, our bassist was the great Chuck Israels. During the soundcheck, Turre and Israels were trading great stories. One story came up regarding the fact that Israels had recorded with Cecil Taylor. I said, "Really?" Israels elaborated on a record date from 1958, when Israels was 18 years old. The recording, now known as "Coltrane Time," was actually originally released under Cecil Taylor's name  in 1959 as "Hard Driving Jazz." The line up is Israels on bass, John Coltrane, Cecil Taylor, Kenny Dorham on trumpet, and Louis Hayes on drums.

What? That is an INSANE line up. I had never heard this recording. I can only imagine what it would be like for an 18 year old bassist, to get to record with these legends. I looked up the recording on wikipedia, and there is mention of a "tension filled" recording session. " Everyone says that there was tension, but it's not true," said Israels. " Everyone was very nice and it was a surprisingly smooth date." Israels

Chuck Israels

mentioned that it took a minute to adjust to Cecil Taylor's comping, which, if you take a listen, is definitely providing some rhythmic tension, but the contrast in personal styles is fascinating. When I went home and checked out the recording, I was surprised at how " inside" Cecil Taylor sounds; he's making the form and the changes, but in a very abstract way. " They even recorded my tune, 'Double Clutching,' which was a contrapuntal exercise."

If you get a minute, give this one a listen. Musicians often joke about putting together strange rhythm sections and collections of players( for example, " Hey, what about a band with Kenny G on sax, Al Hirt on trumpet, Wynton Kelly on piano, Henry Grimes on bass, and Alex Van Halen on drums? Totally RAD, dude!"). However, all kidding aside, sometimes weird line ups of musicians that might seem like an odd fit can produce intriguing results.

RIP Brent Black

Some of you might remember back in 2011, I posted something about Nicholas Payton's album "Bitches." Part of the article referred to what I believed what was a rather unfair review of Payton's album. The writer of the review was a guy named Brent Black. This blogpost and the extended comments which followed started a huge firestorm between Black and Payton, Black and myself, Black and Dwayne Burno, and had many jazz musicians and fans wondering, "Who the heck is Brent Black?" The controversy died down for a while, and then a few months later , Black randomly posted something derogatory about me. I ended up writing him an open letter as a kind of peace offering. It didn't quite work. I figured that maybe some people weren't worth the trouble.

Then I found out what was really bothering Mr. Black. Turns out that he was dying of cancer. At that point, I figured this man was more to be pitied than to be hated. I know he said some terrible things. Clearly, he was suffering, and knew he didn't have long to live, so he didn't hold back. I donated some money to his fund for his medical bills. All of a sudden he was my biggest fan! He gave me some of the best reviews I've ever gotten.

It's not really about whether Brent Black was a nice guy, or whether he was right or wrong in his opinions, or whether other musicians were justified in being mad at him. I think he was just a human being who was having problems, and that manifested itself in some of his odd behavior. I didn't agree with a lot of Black's opinions, but I just couldn't hate him anymore. There's already enough hate in the world.

I'm glad Black has relief from the physical pain of his mortal existence. Although I have a feeling, wherever he is, he's stirring things up.....

RIP Brent Black

RIP Lew Soloff

I was sorry to hear of the sudden passing of trumpet great Lew Soloff. I was fortunate to share the bandstand with him a number of times; with his band, Lonnie Plaxico's band, and the Mingus Band. Soloff was always very friendly and garrulous; he always seemed to have a joke or a story to tell. He knew I played trumpet so he would always talk trumpet; " What do you think of this mouthpiece with this horn?" " I didn't really get a good warm-up today..."  Soloff was well known as one of the best lead players, as well as a great soloist; he was an important part of the classic band Blood, Sweat, and Tears. ( Actually, come to think of it, his solo on " Spinning Wheel was one of the first solos I tried to transcribe...although it was way beyond my range.....)

I remember a great story Soloff told me during a break from rehearsing with the Mingus Band. Soloff had chipped his tooth, and decided to go to the dentist, but Lew being Lew, he brought his trumpet to the dentist. He wanted to see if the chipped tooth had an effect on his playing. " I picked up the horn and played up to a triple D, full voice…" Soloff explained. " But I decided that I didn't really need that kind of range, so I let the dentist fix the tooth." Soloff was one of the greats and he will be missed. RIP , Mr. Soloff.

Letter from Richard Dorsey

Couldn't find any photos of Richard, but this is his family business

 

 

where we worked for years

Richard Dorsey, a wonderful tenor sax player Baltimore native was the first great jazz saxophonist with whom I got to play. He recently sent me this written recounting our first meeting in the late 80's.


Recently I came across a blog post about George Colligan's first gig. I was amused and entertained by his well-written recollection. What a surprise to find out the first time he and I played together was his first job as a pianist. As I read about it didn't take long to start wondering if I had  tapes of any of those nights. I knew I recorded at least the first night at J-K's Pub in Columbia, Md., a place I characterized as a "fern bar", regardless of whether it had ferns or not. That term was still in use in 1988, referring to attractive places just like J-K's Pub. Clean walls. Neon lights. Up-scale pick-up bars in upscale areas, with background music like Christopher Cross and Journey. I have not much against all that....not entirely, anyway. But it seemed an unlikely place to have a welcome mat out for the brew of music I was carrying in the front door.

I recall those gigs at J-K's Pub pretty clearly. It was the first time meeting George and bassist David Ephross. I had met drummer Chris Perry socially, and always liked him, but had never played with him.


I'm pretty sure David secured that playing job, then got my number from someone in town and called me. When David phoned he said he couldn't decide which of two pianists to get. He said one guy was a pianist. I thought to myself, "That's good, isn't a pianist what we need?". David made even less sense when he stated the second option, saying that the other choice was a trumpet major at Peabody Conservatory who was learning piano. OH MY GOD! I had visions of a serious crash and burn gig. Not only did it sound like there was this trumpeter, someone who might not actually play piano, but also that the bassist, the leader David, might not know the difference whether this trumpeter could play piano. The scene was highly suspect at that moment.

At that point on the phone I said to Dave, kind of firmly, "NOOOOOOOOO! Get the first pianist, not someone just starting !" or something like that, something driven by deep fear from the way I heard David present the options. It seemed apparent to me that David was going through a thought process involving me looking toward getting the answer he wanted. It was evident that Dave had made the decision for George to command the piano chair.  As my phone call with David was coming to a close he held his ground for George as the pianist, sticking with it so firmly that he convinced me of the choice.

Arriving at the gig I saw drummer Chris Perry. I decided no matter what happened we would lock in and keep it together. George and Dave seemed friendly and confident.  We started with Coltrane's "Moment's Notice". I thought in case there might not be much piano solo time taken I would stretch out from the start and assure a reasonable song length. Perhaps I did play 25 choruses. Then everything rolled along smoothly. George played without incident, the way it always was thereafter. It sure seemed like he'd done this all before. I wasn't wiser, just somewhat older. I quickly realized not only his skill, but David's bass playing acumen as well. We played that same gig, well, perhaps three, four times. That was at least more than I thought we were going to. Termination came not as much of a surprise as being there at all. After all, though, we jazz musicians play wherever we get the chance.

Starting shortly after this, I was happy and fortunate to play with George over the next four-five years with a group that included Alex Norris called the Peabody Underground. On and off. The usual opportunities. We had a year-long weekly (mostly) gig at Chambers in Baltimore that people seemed to like and talked about. Of course, not like they talk about George nowadays. And along the way I learned another thing: George could also play the trumpet pretty darn well.


Richard Dorsey
December 11th, 2014
Baltimore, Maryland

RIP Kenny Wheeler

We've lost a number of greats in jazz recently( Charlie Haden, Joe Sample, Horace Silver, Gerald Wilson), but I wanted to mention the death of trumpeter and composer Kenny Wheeler. A huge influence on many modern musicians,  Wheeler had an unmistakable trumpet sound as well as a distinctive compositional style. I was fortunate to study with him at the  1990 Banff Summer Jazz Workshop. Wheeler, humble to a fault, and quite a contrast from artistic director Steve Coleman, was incredible to be around. I was fortunate to get play in the trumpet section in the rehearsals for his Large Ensemble suite.

I remember signing out "Deer Wan," one of Wheeler's classic records from the library in the early 80's. I believe for most musicians, "Gnu High" is a standout recording( I  found it ironic that pianist Allyn Johnson had just received his copy of "Gnu High" on vinyl in the mail on the same day of Wheeler's passing.) Some of Wheeler's tunes than are often played include "Everyone's Song But My Own," " For Jan," "Smatter," and "Consolation." Indeed, listening to a bit of "Smatter" gives me chills...

I remember two things about Mr. Wheeler at Banff. He coached my ensemble( I was playing trumpet back then), and during the rehearsal, I left to use the bathroom. When I returned, Wheeler was in my spot, reading the chart( it was an arrangement of his tune, "Mark Time." When he saw me, he demurred the spot to me. But I looked at him and said, " No, you can play!" He shrugged as if he was completely unworthy. He then proceeded to take a trumpet solo that just obliterated! There was another moment when a student came in who didn't recognize Wheeler. He was just sitting in a chair, looking extremely unassuming. " Oh, are you auditing this class?" she inquired. " Oh, actually I own all of these facilities, " he said in a quiet deadpan. " I'm Mr. Banff!"

European Vacation

Reykjavik, Iceland

I've been traveling to the continent of Europe to perform jazz since 1993. Back then, the excitement of new countries and new experiences vastly outweighed the discomfort of air travel and the harsh realities of jet lag. Over twenty years later, the thrill of sitting in a tiny seat for hours and having very irregular sleep patterns has obviously diminished. Still, it's great to be able to travel to places where jazz is really appreciated and to see old and new friends. As much as I enjoy teaching and having a steady job, I am determined to keep a foothold in Europe or wherever else I can perform my music on a semi-regular basis.

I just returned from the first European tour that I totally set up by myself. I've toured Europe countless times as a sideman, and I've done a few tours as a leader with the help of promoters. However, it's very difficult to book your own tour; there are so many logistics, and even on a very short tour like this one, I found it challenging to keep track of everything. Although I wished more gigs had come through, more gigs can also mean more opportunities for something to go wrong! Be that as it may, it was a little over a week long and I would view it as a success, and hopefully the start of some momentum to help to do more next time.

My tour went to four countries. My first stop was in Iceland. This was the only place on the tour

Harpa in Reykjavik

where I had never been before. Reykjavik is a beautiful, serene city; the weather was a bit rainy and gray, but I was able to do some running along the coast and through the town. I did a workshop in FÍH (Tónlistarskóli Félag Íslenskra hljómlistarmanna/Music School of the Federation of Icelandic Musicians) which was well attended; I got to play with some young students and it was a very positive experience. I also gave a trio concert at Harpa, a gorgeous arts center in downtown Reykjavik. The event was sponsored by Múlinn Jazzklúbbur (Mulinn Jazz Society). Scott Mclemore, a great drummer and friend from the Brooklyn days, has been living in Iceland with his wife Sunna Gunnlaugs( Sunna is a great pianist) for almost 10 years. I'm thankful that he hooked up the clinic and the concert. We had a great trio vibe, rounded out by Toggi Jónsson, a wonderful bassist from Reykjavik, which made for a great concert. I wish I could say that I got a chance to sample some typical Icelandic food; actually, we ended up eating the amazing cooking of Sunna Gunnlaugs almost the entire time I was there. Gunnlaugs is a great cook; she is really focused on healthy meals.


 

Malmo, Sweden

Next, I flew to Copenhagen, then took a  30 minute train ride to Malmo, Sweden for a clinic at the Malmo Academy of Music. This was my third visit to the Academy, and it's a great atmosphere; the students are curious and have a positive attitude. This event was coordinated by Hakan Rydin, who is the jazz piano professor at the Academy. It's great to work with students who are serious about the music. I played a few of my originals in trio with the students, then we worked with a vocalist for a while. I was amazed at how 4 hours just seemed to fly by!

The next day I headed back to Copenhagen for a gig at the Jazzhus Montmartre. This is the famous Montmartre where expats like Dexter Gordon performed often. My trio was two of the top Danish jazz musicians; Morten Ramsbol on bass and Morten Lund on drums. After a quick soundcheck/rehearsal, we did two magical sets of  original music and

Jazzhus Montmartre

standards for a decent and appreciative crowd. ( It's worth noting that for both the Copenhagen gig and the Vienna gig that I had at least one person waiting for an autograph. I tell my students that I'm famous but they don't believe me!) The night was marked by two more things; one, the piano at the Montmartre was an incredible Steinway-perfectly in tune and action like "butter." Two, the great pianist Eric Reed, who was in Copenhagen working with the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, came by to hear the music. It's always nice to have some of the "cats" in the audience.

Porgy and Bess, Vienna

My final stop was in Vienna; I feel lucky that I had a chance to play at Porgy and Bess, which is one of the best jazz clubs in Europe. We had a great crowd, and the energy of the trio with Ramsbol and Lund was even more intense than in Copenhagen. It was surprising that the sympatico was so good considering we had never really played trio before ( although we worked as a trio accompanying vocalist Sinne Eeg a few years back). I'm hoping to do some more with this trio next year. Now, back to Portland and my work at Portland State University. Since I'm teaching more now, touring Europe feels different than it did back when I was touring 6 months out of the year; it feels almost like a "jazz vacation." Hopefully next time it will be a little longer.......

R.I.P. Kenny Drew Jr.

I was sincerely shocked to hear of the recent death of pianist Kenny Drew Jr. I was aware that Drew had a number of health problems, but I didn't know how serious. I don't really know what the details are but I think he was found in his home. He was only 56 years old.

I remember the first time I heard Kenny Drew Jr.; it was in the 90's at The One Step Down in Washington, D.C.  Guitarist Larry Camp had been telling me about Drew; " This guy is incredible; he can just look at a piece of music and memorize it!" I had to hear what this was all about. I'll never forget hearing Drew play "Donna Lee"; he played the double octaves probably better than anybody ever has. It was quite overwhelming from a technical standpoint. I went out and bought some of his CDs after that; I used to listen to " A Look Inside" quite a bit.

I remember running into Drew on the D train coming from Brooklyn in 1995; he was on his way to play at Visiones, and he was looking at sheet music. I remember he seemed like a cool guy- very talkative. I was a bit intimidated; the music he was looking at appeared to be pretty difficult.

I gained an even better appreciation of Drew when we worked together with the Mingus Epitaph Orchestra in 2007. I got more chances to talk to Drew in the period of time during the rehearsals and performances. Drew was fairly honest about politics, and it was entertaining to hear him rant about U.S. foreign and domestic policies.

There were two specific things that happened during that time which I will never forget. One was when Drew showed up for one of the Epitaph rehearsals with a bag of piano music he had just purchased at Patelson's Music Store. It was some 20th century Russian music; just glancing over his shoulder, it looked as though one would have to spend years to play music like this. Drew sight read it with the ease that you might read a New Yorker cartoon. I said, "How can you sight read like that?" "What, this?" he replied, as if I was joking. " No, this is very easy!" as he perfectly executed the written music which would probably have taken me decades to learn. I kid you not, and I say this as a graduate of Peabody Conservatory, which was full of incredible classical pianists: Kenny Drew was one of the best sight readers to walk the earth.

Indeed, Drew played classical music long before he played jazz. Many folks understandably know Drew because he is the son of jazz legend Kenny Drew( who played on Coltrane's "Blue Train," as well as had many great solo records), although as I understand it, Jr. did not grow up with his father at all, and didn't consider him an influence. Drew studied classical piano with his mother and grandmother. I've heard folks tell me that Drew had most of the serious classical piano repertoire memorized. Technically, he was up there with the best. A wonderful jazz musician, Drew was definitely underrated. ( I really have no idea why he was living in St. Petersburg, Florida. I don't believe that Florida is a hotbed for jazz...)

I'm getting to the second unforgettable incident during the Epitaph tour. Part of the 3 hour plus work is a piece called "Freedom," and during this piece(which is about Civil Rights, obviously), some people were getting up and shouting, "Stand Fast!" I noticed that during the first performance in New York, Drew was really seriously getting passionately into the "Stand Fast!" portion. The next concert, in Cleveland, at the same point in the work, while others in the 30 man orchestra shouted " Stand Fast, My Brothers!", Drew stood up and shouted at the top of his lungs, "9-11 WAS AN INSIDE JOB!"

I don't believe that Drew would have a problem with me telling this story. I think that's what I dug about him; Drew spoke the truth and then some.

I was touched that after that tour, Drew sent me some CDs of classical piano music, particularly, recordings of Godowsky's studies on the Chopin Etudes. Basically, they make Chopin's etudes even harder than they already are! I had given Drew a copy of my CD, " Blood Pressure, " and I remember he sent me an email kindly saying how much he enjoyed it.

I was really hoping he would have given me an interview for jazztruth, but alas, we never hooked it up. Well, it's a shame to lose another great musician. Let's spend some time listening to his music and hope he's in a better place.

Catching My Breath

Joe Manis and Nicole Glover at the Cathedral Park Jazz Festival

Hey everyone. Last week was incredible; we had our third successful "The Shed" PSU Summer Jazz Camp( partnering with the Portland Jazz Composer's Ensemble) featuring special guests Alex Norris and David Ephross, as well as Portlanders Darrell Grant, David Valdez, Javier Nero, Jason Palmer, Dan Balmer, and Ryan Meagher. It was a intense, full week of masterclasses, rehearsals, and jam sessions; 9 in the morning until almost 8 pm every night. I enjoyed hearing the students as well as the faculty, and we got some great positive feedback. Admittedly, there's no pleasing everyone, and a few folks had complaints, but this is to be expected; this is only our third year, and we are still learning. Nevertheless, it was by and large a positive experience and I look forward to next year's "The Shed."

It would have made sense to plan a weekend vacation in the Bahamas, but alas, I had 5 gigs scheduled for the weekend; three on Saturday and two on Sunday. Saturday started with playing keyboard on a 4 hour wedding gig with bassist Cary Miga's group; then I hightailed it over to St. Johns to play drums with Kerry Politzer, Jon Lakey, and Nicole Glover. I was supposed to play organ after that with Joe Manis, but there was an issue with the pay, so we decided to cancel. The gigs were part of the Cathedral Park Jazz Festival; it was supposed to be a sort of after hours series. I believe that the issue was that the cover charge would pay the band, but when the venue tried to collect a cover charge at the door, no one would enter the bar!  More on that in a minute.

Sunday, I got to play twice in a row on the big stage at Cathedral Park. It was really crowded and the weather was beautiful. First, I played piano with the Jeff Baker group featuring David Valdez, Thomas Barber, Jason Palmer, and Andrea Niemiec. After that, I sat behind the drums for a great set with my band Theoretical Planets featuring Nicole Glover, Joe Manis, and Jon Lakey. It's always great to play for a big crowd in a great outdoor venue. I was pretty much running on fumes after such a long week, but I left the festival satisfied and looking forward to a quiet week of relaxation.

Again, it's always great to play music, and the Cathedral Park Jazz Festival is a great institution which I hope will continue to exist. But there were two issues which I think are worth discussing constructively. One is the idea that musicians are supposed to be paid.  In the case of the Saturday night  gig, where no one would pay 10 dollars to hear music,  I don't blame the venue( which is merely a neighborhood bar) and I certainly have nothing but kudos for the organizers of the festival ( Mary Sue Tobin, Farnell Newton and Arthur Marx, respectively) who did a lot of work to keep the Cathedral Park Festival alive. I have been told that Portland has always been a town which has trouble getting folks to pay any sort of cover charge for music. I am constantly reminding people that in New York City, you basically cannot do anything without paying at least 20 dollars. Portland, you need to accept the fact that musicians need to get paid! When you watch how much money Portlanders spend on artisanal chili dogs and then people say a 10 dollar cover charge is too much, I get a little depressed, to say the least.

Another issue was the sound during the main stage concerts. I've had years of experience playing on stages with sound people of all types. It seemed to me, on Sunday, as though the atmosphere with getting the sound, as well as people on and off the stage and so forth, was a little tense. I tried to get what I needed in the monitors, and then I just put my earplugs in and tried to get through it. I did see that David Valdez was trying to get the mixing guy's attention during the set, and I could see from where I was sitting that the mixing guy was either not hearing David, or purposely ignoring him, which is really unprofessional, no matter how you slice it.

Sound people and musicians have to work to together respectfully; we know this! Musicians cannot be rude to sound people, and sound people need to respect us as well. It's a two way street, for sure. I know for myself, in the 20 years I've been traveling internationally, I always try to be as polite as possible to the sound guys, but sometimes things like quick stage changeovers can make the atmosphere tense.(Sometimes the language barrier can make it even more challenging!) I don't know what David Valdez did to make the sound guy think that he was being disrespected. Asking for certain specific sound things in the monitor or in the house, while possibly time consuming and annoying, is not disrespectful in and of itself. However, tit for tat on the part of the engineer in this case is just juvenile. I hope there will be a different, more cooperative and less egotistical sound company next time.

I'm reminded of the first tour I did with Cassandra Wilson in 1999. Our first performance was at the Ocean Blue Jazz Festival in Japan. I remember that there were probably 20 or 30 stagehands during the sound check. They were all sprinting back and forth across the stage, making sure every musician had what they needed to hear in the monitor, making sure musicians had water, towels, or whatever they needed for optimal performance. The next week, we were in Torino, Italy. I remember  for that sound check, there were 20 or 30 stagehands, all standing around smoking cigarettes..........

True Stories

I remember my first trip to Japan with vocalist Vanessa Rubin. We stayed in Tokyo and drove outward to the suburbs for our concerts. Our driver wore a large black eyepatch. After a few days, I asked the promoter, "Can this dude drive with an eyepatch?"

 "Yes, of course, he is an excellent driver."

"Well….what happened to his eye?"

"…..Car accident."



I was invited to bring my band to a festival in Europe. Working out the details for this trip almost gave me a nervous breakdown. Among many other issues was the issue of bringing an upright bass. Most airlines do not accept basses anymore. I tried to explain this to the festival organizers.

" We cannot bring a bass, the airline will not accept the bass, so you will have to provide one."

"No, I'm sorry, we cannot provide a bass, so you will have to bring one."

" Uh, the airline will not let us bring one, so you will have to provide a bass!"

" I'm sorry, it's impossible. You can just bring one."

After much frustration, we ended up getting a friend of the bass player to drive a very long distance and let us use a bass. The kicker was that when we arrived at the venue, there was, in the dining hall, featured as part of the decor, a perfectly playable upright bass, just sitting next to the buffet.



I've performed in Russia a number of times. I've been fortunate to be featured as a band leader. It was interesting to know that at one venue in a small town, my name in Cyrillic was written as " Johnny McCloggin." I guess all Irish names sound alike to Russians.

I've been fortunate to fly business class to Japan a number of times. One time, before the flight took off, I decided to take a look at the First Class cabin. As I sauntered up to the entrance, a stewardess sternly said, "May I help you?" I guess I didn't look like First Class material! I said I just wanted to look. She smiled and agreed to let me bask in the glow of How The Other Half Flies. As I retreated back to my seat, the stewardess called out, "Better luck next time!"



I played  a week at Catalina's in Hollywood with Ravi Coltrane in 2001. One evening, I went to the club early to practice a bit. I noticed there was a table with a young man and an small, older woman sitting behind me. The woman turned out to be Zelda Rubenstein, an actress most known for her appearance in "Poltergeist." I sat down and talked to her for about 2 hours before the show started. After the energetic  first set, I went over to her table and sat down to talk to her, curious about her opinion of the music. "Wow, " she whispered, " that was really terrible……."


During my classical trumpet studies at Peabody Conservatory, I gave a recital at a church in Baltimore. I played a piece by baroque composer Henry Purcell. The edition of this piece had two versions in the same booklet-one for Bb trumpet (in the key of concert Bb) and one for D trumpet( in the key of D). I lifted my Schilke D trumpet to my lips and began to play the beginning of the piece. All of a sudden, I felt as though I was playing a work by Charles Ives. We stopped, and my accompanist whispered , "George , what is going on!" She was looking at the version for Bb trumpet! We sorted it out and finished the piece. I have to admit, the opening wasn't what what Purcell had intended, but it did sound kind of cool, in a bi-tonal sort of way.

I have a fond memory of a gig I did at Small's in the 90's. We were performing one of my tunes, and odd meter work entitled, "Spellbound." At the time, trumpeter Tommy Turrentine was living in a space right behind the piano. In the middle of the tune, Turrentine came out, looked around, and proclaimed, " I don't know what this is, but it ain't jazz!"

ABC: Always Be Checking out new music...

One of the great things about hanging out with other musicians is that you get to see what music they are checking out; you might have much of the same music in common, however, they might be into some stuff you have never heard, which means that you are going to learn something. One of the things I enjoy about touring with musicians from different backgrounds, and also different age brackets, is that you get exposed to a wide range of things. Hanging out with Don Byron, Jerome Harris, and Jack DeJohnette is truly an education; they are constantly referring to different tunes, albums, or artists who I'm not as familiar with, if not totally unfamiliar with. It's also wonderful that I can go to my trusty computer and research these things very easily. For example, the other day we were in waiting for our performance in Luslaviche, Poland in the wonderful European Art Center of Krzysztof Penderecki. Jerome Harris asked me if I had ever checked out any of Polish born composer Penderecki's music. I didn't believe so; Harris mentioned a piece called "Threnody For The Victims Of Hiroshima." I checked it out on youtube: it's an extremely powerful piece right from the start. Written for strings and using extreme special effects, the evocative nature of the piece really struck me. After that, I moved on to Penderecki's "Symphony No. 1" and also his "Concerto for Piano and Orchestra." Penderecki's music has a lot of overt passion; he is fairly prolific and there is much more of his music to hear.

Harris also referred me to a tune by Joni Mitchell from an album I was unfamiliar with; "The Jungle Line" from "The Hissing Of Summer Lawns." This song is known for the rhythm track, which happens to be Moog Synthesizer and a drum ensemble from Burundi. The background is a very strident contrast to Mitchell's gentle mezzo voice and clever lyrics. I have yet to check out the rest of the album, but Harris and Don Byron counted it among their favorite Joni Mitchell albums.(Also, from the youtube comments, it appears that 80's pop synth master Thomas Dolby covered this song. I'll have to find that version..)

 Another track I was unfamiliar with is an Eddie Harris performance: "Theme from 'Exodus'" is somewhat reminiscent of Harris' take on "The Shadow Of Your Smile." It's a beautiful minor key theme, and features Harris' spot-on phrasing and an almost Stan Getz like softness. The movie is from 1960 and stars Paul Newman and Eve Marie Saint; it looks like it's a pretty epic telling of the founding of the state of Israel and how many Jews end up in Cyprus because they were exiled from Europe. I guess I'll have to set aside 3 hours to check it out.

Why The Road Sucks

One of the sights in Milan I won't see because I'm looking for a laundromat

There's an old saying:"How do you get a musician to complain? Give him a GIG!" Well, it's funny because it's true. Musicians are either moaning because they aren't working, but they might moan even louder if they are working. I've been enjoying my gigs more lately because I get to play music so much less than when I lived in New York and was just freelancing. However, the things that surround the gigs still suck. Well, it's not all bad, but especially when it comes to traveling, that's starting to become more annoying, and only because I'm becoming more comfortable in my home, and being home more than being away. For most of my years in New York, I was on the road about 50 percent of the time. So the road was as much home as my apartment was. Since I, my wife and son have moved into our house in Southeast Portland, it's become way too comfortable for me to want to leave. This makes the unpleasant parts of traveling more unpleasant psychologically.

Don't get me wrong, it's a privilege to get the opportunity to get to tour with Jack DeJohnette, a true legend in jazz drumming. Besides the musical experience,there are the practical advantages; Jack is, like most jazz greats, much more appreciated in Europe than in the U.S., and is treated fairly well when we tour here(I'm in Milan at the moment). We stay in mostly 4 and 5 star hotels, get free excellent dinners before every gig, and all of our instruments and sound is set up before we get to sound check. It's nice to get the star treatment. It's not like we are The Rolling Stones or anything, but we are treated with respect.

Still, there are things like jet lag, getting on and off planes, in and out of airports at ungodly hours, changing money of various currencies(Not everyone is on the Euro over here), dealing with lost luggage, getting a roaming plan for your phone so you don't get a bill that costs more than you are making for the tour, trying not to catch a cold or anything worse, hoping there is a gym in the hotel and if there isn't looking for one that doesn't charge 60 Euros a day( there is one in Milan that does!). Getting sick on the road, even just a cold, really sucks because you have no choice but to keep moving; you can't just say, "Sorry guys, I need to rest up and drink some chicken soup. You guys go on ahead to Berlin; I'll catch up to you when I'm feeling better...." Nope. I now pack tons of Vitamin C , Zicam, Oscillococcinum, Ginger Tea, and Amino Acids to prevent getting sick, and NyQuil and Dayquil in case I do get sick. Just hope you don't get something intestinal because if you are driving 4 to 12 hours a day and you have the runs, you are going to be miserable.

But the kicker is laundry: How do you go out on the road for weeks and get your clothes washed so that you don't feel and smell as funky as Parliament Funkadelic? Finding a laundry can be

Joey Barron, known for great drumming and traveling light

challenging, especially when you are doing constant one nighters; there is such limited time that you fly in, check in to the hotel, go to the soundcheck, play the gig, go back to the hotel, get up the next morning and do it all again. There just isn't time. Some people bring clothes that dry quickly and they spend a lot of time washing their clothes in the sink of their hotel room. The legend is that drummer Joey Barron brings only one change of clothes on a tour; he wears silk clothes which he can wash and dry every night. Barron also doesn't even bring cymbals; he apparently just uses whatever cymbals the promoter provides and just puts tape on them to make them sound really dry. I suppose he got tired of lost luggage all the time, so now he travels light.

I wish I could get to that point. I have three bags. One is a large suitcase full of clothes and two pairs of shoes(dress and running). I also have my vitamins in there. I have a computer bag(which is actually brand new, I had to buy a new one in Oslo because the one I bought finally broke after 10 years. Oslo is expensive so the new one cost about 4,000 dollars.....) which has my computer and various electronics and my passport. Then I have a shoulder bag which I put my pocket trumpet case inside. I might also put a sweater or a jacket in that bag so I can have it on the plane if they have the air conditioning blasting(which they often do, apparently to keep the flight attendants awake). I spent about a week making sure that the large suitcase was well packed but not over 50 pounds; that's the overweight limit before you get charged extra. I bought some undershirts, underwear and socks as cheaply as I could at Target because I figured maybe if I can't find laundry I'll just throw it away and try to find the European equivalent of Target-meaning a place to buy dirt cheap undershirts, underwear and socks. Sounds like a waste? Well, many years ago I spent 110 dollars having the good people at the Hotel Rey Juan Carlos in Barcelona wash my undershirts, underwear and socks. I'll give it to them, those undershirts, underwear and socks came back gift wrapped and smelling like an angel's underarm. The hotels can't rip you off with phone calls now that we all have cell phones, so they make up for it with the laundry service.

Now, if you do have a little extra time in one place, as we do in Milan( this is our second full day here), then it's possible to venture out and try to find a laundromat. There are a few problems; one, I only know two words in Italian: "Bongiorno" and "Corleone," the later which is just a name from The Godfather, so it doesn't really count. (It's a shame because supposedly I'm a quarter Italian.) Second, I don't know my way around Milan at all. (We are staying in the Chinatown section of Milan, which is actually kind of interesting. There are a lot of Chinese grocery stores, but I didn't see any laundromats. )Third, the people at the front desk are somewhat clueless; they did a search for

This is what I want, not a drycleaner, darnit!

"laundry" on the internet and printed out a map, however, all of the laundry listings are actually dry cleaners. But I didn't know this until walking around for about an hour to 4 different places. I followed the map, carrying a big bag of stanky clothes, hoping that the next one would be a coin laundromat. Also, I had drank a pot of coffee at breakfast, so now I was not only lost but I had to use the bathroom. I was starting to curse the people at the front desk of our hotel. I came across another hotel, a Best Western that was called Hotel Mozart. I figured that they would have a bathroom and also possibly help me find the proper laundry.

It's already bad enough that I'm walking around aimlessly with my bag of clothes feeling like a schmendrik, and then having to beg to use a toilet, or having to figure out how to get the point across of needing to use the toilet as a non-italian speaker is just too much indignity for one morning. The guy at the desk of the Hotel Mozart is laying for me: I have a plastic bag of clothes and I look like I'm not from "around here."

Me: Where is your bathroom? You have a toilet?

Hotel Mozart Jerk: Sorry sir, what room are you in?

Me: I'm not staying here but I really need to use the bathroom.

Hotel Mozart Jerk: I'm sorry sir, but the bathroom is only for guests of the hotel.

Me: Ok, then, (raising my voice) can you help me with something else then if you won't let me use the bathroom?

Hotel Mozart Jerk: Perhaps.

Me: Is there a coin laundry around here?

Hotel Mozart Jerk: Go out and make a right and a left.

Me: (Walking out and cursing under my breath)

And......SCENE.

I finally got someone at yet another dry cleaners to show me where a coin laundry was. It said "Self Service," but there was a guy there who looked at me and could tell I wasn't from "around here." We communicated ( I think) that he could wash my clothes by 3pm for 10 Euros. And he had a toilet around the back of the store. I thanked him, "Molto Grazie" and said I would be back at 15:00. I hope he's washing my clothes; who knows, maybe he interpreted our conversation as " I want you to burn these stinky clothes, burn em up, I say. I'll give you 10 Euros to do it, and I'll be back at 3pm just to make sure you've done the job. Too many bad memories with those sweaty undergarments...."

 At home, we have a washer and dryer. I take that for granted; when I want clean clothes, I just have to walk down the hall. On the road, it's a terrible humiliating ordeal. I wonder what will happen if I need a laundry when we get to Bosnia? Maybe I'll just wash them in the sink......

Where were you?

Most people who know me already know this story. I'll never forget that day in 2001; September 10th. You read that correctly. On September 10th, 2001, I was in Tokyo, Japan, getting ready to fly back to New York after a tour with bassist Lonnie Plaxico's band. There was talk of an impending typhoon( the Asian version of a hurricane). I've been afraid to fly for years, and news of a typhoon was really making me nervous. However, once we boarded the plane and took off, the pilot was able to get us out of the weather system fairly quickly. Although I didn't sleep much on the flight, it was a pretty smooth ride; as we got closer to our destination, I thought, "Hey, maybe I'm finally over my fear of flying!" We got in late in the evening, and I went straight from the airport to my apartment on Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn to settle in for a long sleep. I called my girlfriend(now my wife) and sleepily mumbled a good night and drifted off into temporary hibernation.

I awoke the next morning feeling great; finally, a good night's sleep and safe in my home. My bedroom window faced an alley; even though my room was dark and cool, I could still tell that it was a sunny day. I got up with the intention of some type of breakfast, even though the clock said noon. I decided to check my messages. I was still a little groggy from the trip and the long sleep.

There was a message from my girlfriend Kerry, who worked as a legal secretary on Maiden Lane, which is in lower Manhattan. "Oh My God......there's been a terrorist attack on us.......10 planes have been hijacked, the World Trade Center................where are you?"

Hmmmm......uh.......am I still asleep?

Well, let's listen to another message....

"George," it was my mother," there's been a terrorist attack, you said you were flying to D.C. today, what's going on.?....."

Whoops! OK, I was supposed to have a gig in  Washington D.C. on September 11, that had been cancelled months before. However, I had told my mother that I was flying in to Washington National, and I had forgotten to tell her it had been cancelled. Oy gevalt....

Another message. Mom. "George, please call me, oh my god, just please call me, I hope you are ok, oh god, my baby......"

Jesus.

Tried to call my mother, but the line was busy. Hm.

Well, I still wasn't buying it. This must be either a dream, or some horrible practical joke. Still very dazed and confused, I got dressed and headed to the corner store for coffee and maybe a black and white cookie. I walked out onto Ocean Parkway into the sun. It was a perfect Autumn in New York day. I ran into my neighbor from across the hall,  Susan, a 60-something African American lady who drove a cab and listened to jazz.

"I guess you heard about the World Trade Center?"

"Uh...yeah.....what's going on?"

She explained what had happened. There was talk of our enemies around the world, American Imperialism, the Kyoto treaty, and so on.....I was still too groggy to comprehend all of it. The crisp New York Autumn air, the blue sky.....I thanked Susan and headed to the corner store.

At that point, I had been a New Yorker more or less for 6 years. New Yorkers have this ability to remain completely unfazed by events which in lesser towns would be major catastrophes. If somebody shoots at you, duck. If somebody mugs you, mug them back. Somebody yelling at you on the subway, just keep reading your book and get off at the next stop.

This was different. You couldn't just act like this was nothing. New York, America, and the World, would never be the same.

Regardless of what I think about who actually was behind the so-called terrorist attacks, the wars which followed, and the current state of our country, I'll never forget that day.

Up Jumped Spring

I teach a number of jazz combos at Portland State University. (Listen to me....COMBOS......wow, I always hated that word. I always associated COMBOS with the phrase "Really Cheeses Your Hunger Away." I guess time changes everything.) One of the combos is called the Contemporary Combo. Instead of passing out music from, say 1960 and beyond(which in jazz is somehow considered contemporary), I decided that we would compose collectively based on certain chords changes or structures or other criteria which I would provide. The Winter Term class was very interesting in that we usually completed a song by the end of each class; we might create melodies by ear, so I would make a phone video of the completed piece, then take it home and score it on Sibelius. We came up with a book of cool tunes. Deciding on the title of each piece became a class exercise as well. (One of the students would basically try to title each song by looking at random objects in the rehearsal room."Filing Cabinet!" or "Music Stands!" were some of the possible titles. I think we actually used "Big Windows" for one tune.) I tried to make it a true group effort, although I did steer the compositional process towards areas which I thought would be good for the class. We performed some of the tunes during our Winter Term Combo Night and the tunes seemed to be as good as anything else we could have played.

The Spring Term class was a little different. We couldn't seem to finish any tune during our allotted

class time. The students would end up finishing the tunes in their own unsupervised rehearsal time. I was pleasantly surprised when the final result turned out to be really a really nice tune. There were some pretty cool yet not too wacky titles like "Lizard City" and "Hangin' Tough." But there was one tune which really surprised me. It began in class as something which was based on the structure of Freddie Hubbard's "Up Jumped Spring." "Why don't we change the key and alter the harmonic rhythm, and instead of 3/4, let's make it 5/4," I suggested. Slowly but surely, it morphed into something which could not be linked to it's original inspiration. However, we didn't really have a good melody, so I figured that once again, the class would come up with something on their own. The next class, I got to hear the fruits of their labor. The melody was not what I expected, but unique and interesting. However, the title was even more intriguing. I noticed that their manuscript paper had, at the top the page, the title "Up Jumped Pimp."

In the spirit of creative thought, I didn't protest much. It was not the more tasteful of names, and yet it did show brutal originality. I inquired as to the reason for the title, and the best answer I got was "It's a song about friendship." Nevertheless, I decided to allow it, and we went on with the business of composing another tune.

When the time came for our Combo Night performance, I was asked to play trumpet on "Up Jumped Pimp." I actually found the chord changes to be challenging, so I agreed to play. I admit, I was thinking more about the chords than the title after a while. As to be expected, the time came during the show for the song to be introduced. This was at a point in the evening when, I'll admit, most of the audience had left, and it was not even clear whether there was an audience at all. One of the students, the designated MC of the group, delivered his intro of the tune with a humble yet deliberate speech, during which time, the weight of the silliness of the title hit me; I turned away from the audience in order to hide my giggling:
 
We would like to perform for you now………a piece.... which we have composed as a group…………It's a song about friendship……..It's based on Freddie Hubbard's "Up Jumped Spring"………..It's called ………"Up Jumped Pimp"………

All of a sudden, a voice from the darkened hall shouted: "WHY?"

I couldn't control my laughter at that point. Neither could anyone else. After collecting ourselves, we performed the tune and ended the show. Indeed, why? Well, I guess great art always has a mysterious ambiguity to it……..Perhaps this was a song title which Charles Mingus might have been proud of. We'll never know for sure.

Spring Term: Finding The Balance

My Spring Break is NEVER like this......

Spring Break is over. I had a blast:driving around Ocean City in a convertible with my shirt off, hangin' with my best buds, walkin' down the beach, dancin' by the pool, slammin' down brewski's, hooking up with random chicks.....yeah.............oh wait, I'm sorry, that wasn't me at all. I guess television has always given me this idea of Spring Break that I'll never get out of my head. Actually, I went with my wife and son to New York City. 3 year old Liam was actually pretty good on the long flight from PDX to JFK. Bringing the infant Liam on a plane was much more challenging: there was definitely a lot more diaper changing and screaming and squirming. This time, during the descent into New York, Liam sat on my lap and looked out at the Queens skyline as we turned in for a landing.

 It's always fun to go back and see New York. I miss it sometimes; many of my good friends are

there, and certainly many of the best musicians in the world are there. However, I think the West Coast lifestyle has spoiled me a bit. It's still wintery cold in New York, whereas Portlandlers are starting to put their winter jackets in the storage closet. New York has been slowly transforming itself from a mecca for artists into a playground for the wealthy. If you aren't a hedge fund manager, you will have a hard time in New York. I think even the hedge fund managers are complaining about the prices now. Portland has always been known as a place where "a musician can buy a house." Real estate in Portland is, at least for now, much more affordable than New York.

Now that we are back in Portland, it's time to get back to work. This term, I'm teaching both Jazz History and a brand new class called Jazz and American Culture. The latter is more of a jazz appreciation class, although it also deals with the cultural relevancy of jazz and related forms of music. We are two classes in, and we've had some really great discussions. The Jazz History class also promises to be interesting because we have a mix of jazz majors and non-majors in the class. (I call them civilians.)This will be an interesting way for players and non-players to find out what the other is thinking about various sub-genres of jazz. Both classes are lecture classes, however, it's much more stimulating for all if we have discussions about the music and the history. I think that a pure lecture class can be useful, especially if there are over 150 students; however, with interaction, the students feel better about the class, which hopefully will make them feel better about the music.

Give it to me straight, McBride!

I'll still working with many ensembles. I was working with an ensemble a few days ago, and the bass player and drummer just were not hooking up. So I stopped and worked with the bass player. This young man is very talented and precocious, however, he is still somewhat inexperienced, and he has certain technical limitations. He's got a lot of passion for the music, and does a lot of listening at home, which is REALLY important. When he walked a bass line in time, I noticed how inconsistent his quarter notes were. They were actually quite sloppy, if we listened to him play alone. I wanted to critique him, but I didn't want to be too harsh, so I started to say, "You know, it's actually pretty good...." And then this young bass student said, "NO, DON'T DO THAT!" By this, he meant, "Don't sugar coat it, Professor, give it to me STRAIGHT!"

Now, this young man has been working with Mr. Thara Memory, an Portland based musician who is

Esperanza Spalding and Thara Memory

known as a trumpeter, educator, and director of the American Music Program. He is also known as a mentor of Portland's own, bassist and vocalist and composer Esperanza Spalding; and if you haven't heard of her, then you might want to just crawl back under your rock. Mr. Memory has a reputation for being somewhat of an old-school type task master. Some say he is too harsh at times; however, I recently gave a clinic to his young band, and honestly, I had very little to say. Memory certainly gets results; his band of high school and even middle school kids play with a precision and enthusiasm that rivals most college and some professional bands. All the music was memorized and they swung like there was no tomorrow.

So my young bass student, coming from this environment of seriousness, didn't want me to be NICE. He wanted me to tell him how to get better. This is really important, because why would anyone go to music school, or for that matter, anything school, if they didn't want to get better? And yet, because of the softening of our society, there has been a relaxation of our expectations of students and young musicians. We don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, and we don't want to step on anyone's toes, and everybody's a winner. Without any sort of motivation, how can we expect our students to get better? Are we preventing ourselves from "giving it to them straight' because first we don't want them to feel bad and second because we want them to keep paying for school? And when I say "we", I most definitely include "ME!"

I don't know if being an old school hard ass teacher suits me personally; however, the proof is in the pudding. Thara Memory's band sounded amazing. Case closed. As an junior educator trying to find my way, my question to myself is how can I get the best results from students and be honest with students without making them cry. (And I have made students cry, if you can believe it; I was a guest clinician in Groningen, The Netherlands, and all I did was ask a young Korean piano student, after she played,  if she had ever heard a recorded version of Herbie Hancock's "Tell Me A Bedtime Story." She burst into tears! I guess I just have that kind of effect on people...Ugh...)

I think there is a way to strike a balance. We need to be honest without being hurtful. Lately, I find that my pendulum swings widely and wildly from side to side. I'm either too nice or too mean. Also this week, I think I was overly harsh to a young musician who was having some issues on his instrument. I felt bad after the fact. However, I think the intent was correct. We need to "give it to them straight." After all, if you go to a doctor, and your body is riddled with tumors, you wouldn't want you doctor to come in and say "Hey, you are doing great! Picture of health!" You want him to tell you what's going on! Now, not every doctor has the best bedside manner. At best, your doctor could say, "Well, Mr. Jenkins, our tests show that there are a number of tumors in your chest. I've scheduled you for surgery at 2pm on Wednesday. I can't say for sure what the prognosis is, but we'll do our best." Of course, you might get a doctor who will say, "DAMN, YOU GOT TUMORS OUT

THE YING YANG, BRO! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING? EATING CIGARETTES FOR BREAKFAST? DO YOU PUT PESTICIDES IN YOUR COFFEE? MAN, THIS IS REALLY REALLY BAD. WELL, NICE KNOWING YOU, PAL. PAY THE RECEPTIONIST ON YOUR WAY OUT......."

I hope you won't take offense at my attempt at facetiousness. My point is that in an academic environment, the most important thing is the LEARNING. So if no one is learning, it seems like we could be doing something else with our time. (perhaps DRINKING....ha ha). My quest is to be more efficient and more effective. How can I get the most out of the students without torturing them? This term is another 10 weeks of finding the balance.

Move to New York?

I stumbled across this from a Huffington Post article from 2010:

Musician and author Patti Smith had some sound advice for fledgling artists thinking of moving to New York: don't.
According to Vanishing New York, in a discussion with writer Jonathan Lethem at Cooper Union on Saturday, Smith was asked if it was possible for young artists to come to the city and find the path to stardom that she did.
In response, Smith told the crowd, "New York has closed itself off to the young and the struggling. But there are other cities. Detroit. Poughkeepsie. New York City has been taken away from you. So my advice is: Find a new city."

This was the subway in New York in the 70's

I followed the link to Jeremiah's Vanishing New York, a blog regarding the "changes" which have been occurring in New York since perhaps the late 80's and early 90's. Yes, New York is safer and more pleasant in some ways. But in other ways, the gentrification and the influx of bankers and wall street hedge fund managers into New York has made the city into a playground for the ultra-rich. (Bloomberg is blamed heavily in some earlier posts.)This means that any struggling artist would have his work cut out for him if he wanted to "make it" in New York.

Many of my students ask me: " Should I move to New York? Do I have what it takes to make it in New York?" For most of my students, the answer is no, and that's mostly because they don't have their musical stuff together.  But for those of my students who I believe DO have the potential to work in New York, I still hesitate. It's not that they can't make it in New York as a jazz musician; the question is, can ANYBODY make it in New York anymore?

I moved to New York in 1995. I played a lot around town, even though it took a few years to really get established. I played at Bradley's, Sweet Basil's, Small's, and a bunch of restaurants and smaller clubs in different parts of New York. Plus, I still went back to D.C. and Baltimore to work just to fill in the gaps. I also was starting to travel more. In fact, I would say for most of my career in New York, the bulk of my income was from touring Europe. Sometimes, I would be on the road for 50 percent or more of the entire year.

That all seemed to change after 9-11. Whereas in the 90's, tours could be as long as 9 weeks straight, or even 11 weeks straight, the 2000's seemed to whittle that down. Many of the great venues in New York closed, and the ones that stayed open became more and more competitive. Many musicians, including yours truly, started to be on the lookout for teaching gigs. In 2007, I attended Queens College to get my Master's degree, in the hopes that this would make a full time teaching position more possible.

When I first moved to NYC, my rent was 150 dollars a month. I had 5 roommates. I literally lived in a closet. Then I moved into a place with 3 other roommates. Now I had a child's room for 300 bucks a month. After about a year, I moved into my own one bedroom for $650 a month. That was in Park Slope. Nowadays, the rents in Brooklyn, let alone Manhattan, are astronomical. I have a friend who lives pretty far out in Brooklyn, way farther than Park Slope, and pays $1000 a month for a tiny no- frills studio. I suppose deals can be had, but it all depends on how you want to live.

I think some of the reasons to move to New York to play jazz are still there: more jazz musicians than anywhere else, a great way to make connections and be inspired, some jazz industry things going on, more venues than other cities. But actually making a living playing jazz in New York seems almost impossible. The gigs don't pay, and you are competing with so many other superb players for the same gigs. Also, I think the venues are not thriving the way they used to because the demand for creative music, or any live music, is not what it was. Bankers and hedge fund managers are more interested in cigar bars and high end sushi-fusion restaurants than jazz clubs.

If you have a lot of money saved, or you want to live far out in the outer boroughs, or even in New Jersey, (ha!), and you can consider working a day job until you start to earn money from gigs, then by all means, move to New York. You can hear incredible musicians every night, and New York is still a wonderful city. Even though some say that the city has lost it's character, I believe New York still has a lot of personality(more than most other American cities. Sorry.). But if you think it's going to be easy, you are delusional.

I still have desires to spend time in New York. However, I believe it's actually a lot cheaper to fly to New York a handful of times a year, and get small fixes that way, then to live there full time-WITHOUT a teaching gig(you dig?). That's the next thing I would recommend to aspiring jazz students. Try to spend as much time as you can in New York without going broke. Fly there a few times a year, see as much music as you can, try to play sessions, and soak up the atmosphere. Maybe try to meet, fall in love with, and marry a hedge fund manager, while you are at it.

A Really Crappy Story

When you are out on the road, your internal clock can get pretty screwed up; between the jet lag, lack of sleep, strange food, and constant traveling, you might find yourself in some very uncomfortable situations. The more I travel, the more I try to anticipate these kinds of problems before they happen. But you never know: sometimes there are events which you can't foresee. When they occur, you might be forced to improvise. And by improvise, I don't mean bebop licks.

I was on a 10 day tour of Italy with the great bassist Buster Williams. The quartet included Stefon Harris on vibes and E.J. Strickland on drums. We were doing the typical one nighters, with a fair amount of driving and flying. One day in the middle of the tour, we had a very early lobby call, and basically spent all day in the airport trying to get to Milan. Once we arrived in Milan, there was a drive to the hotel, drive to soundcheck, and then drive to the restaurant. Having barely eaten all day, we were pleased to arrive at an unlimited pasta and seafood buffet restaurant. If you've ever been to Italy, it's pretty hard not to overeat. I was a little concerned about overdoing it on the shellfish, but I was starving, so I didn't think about it too much. Add wine and coffee and dessert, of course. 

The next thing I knew, we were back in the car, and then back in the dressing room, which was right next to the stage. And then, since we were running late, and the auditorium was packed, the promoter said, "OK, time to start!" So now, without any time to think, we were on stage, playing the first tune of our 90 minute set.

Maybe three or four minutes into the song, I began to notice that certain feeling that one might have after eating a huge meal after not eating all day. I was feeling the urgent need to use the facilities. Let's put it this way: although the tune we were playing, "Song For Sensei", is in 6/4, my internal song was in a "2" feel. As in Number 2. Do I have to spell it out for you?

Around minute 5, regardless of the discomfort which had now started to distract me from Stefon Harris' vibraphone wizardry, I had convinced myself that I could muscle out another 85 minutes on the stage. Around minute 7, now into my solo, I noticed that I was starting to sweat profusely. It was not a particularly warm room. It was the realization that  I needed to run, not walk, to a bathroom. The problem was, there was no bathroom near the stage or the dressing room; I would have to somehow leave the stage, go through the dressing room, go all the way outside the venue, out into the front, use the bathroom,and then go all the way back. The logistics of that, plus trying to concentrate on the music, kept me in limbo for the reminder of my solo. (The other issue was that we had just begin the concert; leaving the stage at this point in the program didn't seem to make any musical sense. I was racking my brain trying to think of something.)

At the 9 minute mark, I made an executive decision: either leave the stage and take care of the business at hand or have an even MORE embarrassing situation on my hands. And my trousers. 

I endured maybe a few more minutes. The tune ended. I lept from the piano. I whispered to Mr. Williams: "Play "Concierto De Arunjuez."(Buster would always do a solo version of this piece on our concerts. Usually, this would occur closer to the end of the show, but I had decided to change the program…) Williams nodded, and to my surprise, launched into his solo feature without any concern.

I mad a mad dash off the stage, out through the dressing room, around the venue, into the front, into the restroom. As I sat on the porcelain throne, I realized that I never could have made it through that concert. I wondered if I had actually gotten some kind of food poisoning. I don't know, shellfish at a buffet? It's possible. 

Even though I was still feeling some intestinal discomfort, I reached a point where I figured I could make my way back to the stage. I made it just as Williams was finishing his solo interlude. The rest of the concert went as scheduled, and we took our bows and made our way back into the dressing room.

I slowly confessed. "Buster, sorry to do that, but thanks for covering for me with "Concierto De Arunjuez."

Williams was surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I asked you to play solo bass….. because I had to run to the bathroom!"

The great Buster Williams

Williams barely batted an eye. "Really? I just thought that you were in the mood to hear me play some solo bass!"