Q & A: Randall Kline and SFJAZZ

By Don Heckman

As it begins its 27th season, the San Francisco Jazz Festival — SFJAZZ — has become well-established as one of the world’s most far-reaching, creatively diverse musical events.  Now encompassing three seasons – with around 100 annual concerts in Fall, Spring and Summer – it is the imaginative offspring of Executive Director Randall Kline, who has been there since the Festival took its first toddling steps toward the future.  I spoke with Kline last week, while he was at San Francisco International Airport waiting to board a plane for a brief, one week trip to Italy “before,” as he put it, “the onslaught begins.”

DH: Randall, let’s talk about this year’s Festival as a kind of template for the way the Festivals are produced.  How did it all come together?

RK:  (Laughing)  A miracle, I guess.  But seriously, the fact is that the Randall Klineprocess now has a rhythm to it, and the rhythm has to do with a lot of things.  Seeking to come up with a well representative program takes a while to develop.  So in the early stages you’re sort of flailing around.  You talk to lots and lots of people — seems like billions, sometimes — and then slowly it starts to take shape.  And it’s kind of the same every year. You reach a point where you say, “Oh, this isn’t so great.”  And then, about three quarters of the way through, there’ll be like one or two bookings that sort of make the difference.  Things start to emerge and then something comes along, and you say, “Oh, yeah, that makes things interesting.”  And there’s the impact that the sheer bulk has, too  – we’re doing close to forty shows – and once you start looking at all of those shows, it starts opening your eyes and you begin to think, “Hey, this could work.”

DH: What got you past that point of apprehension this Fall?

RK: There were little things — things that started streaming in at the end.  Like there was an Omar Sosa booking, and then a kind of Cuban theme sort of emerged, with Alfredo Rodriguez and Omara Portuondo.  Then there was the very last booking.  It was going to be Keb’ Mo’ and Koko Taylor, but she passed away just before we were going to advertise the gig – right at deadline, just as we were going to press.  We added Solomon Burke at the last minute for a double bill and everything suddenly clicked.

DH: Producing this Festival is really a year round process, isn’t it?

RK: It’s a year and a half process, basically.  And we go through this twice a  year, for both the Fall and the Spring programs.

DH:. Yeah, I can remember when you made the decision to do the Spring season, and I thought, “My God what is Randall doing?  A Fall festival with a ton of concerts isn’t enough?  What’s next, Summer and Winter?”  But you’ve made it work.

RK:  I hope so. The Fall itself was a regular performing arts season, basically, but kind of compressed, with forty or so shows.  And what we do in the Spring is to un-compress it a little bit and stretch it over those four months. Adding that level of presenting involves a huge number of concerts, especially since we really do have a Summer season, as well, with free ouotdoor concerts.  All of which adds up to over a hundred concerts a years.  And that includes a lot of schlepping stuff around, since we do the Festival at so many different venues.

DH: Very different from what it was like back in the distant past of your first year, right?

RK: Oh, yes. We did two shows at the Herbst Theatre in year one. It was called Jazz in the City at that time.  It was a very different character, and was not a success. The same sort of programming esthetic was present, but the diversity was more like festival style programming.  An avant-garde group on the same bill with African drummers and a thirties’ vocal group, or an Afro-Cuban group.  A lot of diversity on those programs.  What we learned — and what made it not work that first year — was that most audiences like what they like, and their focus can be kind of narrow.

DH: You’re saying that your approach did not produce what your audiences wanted to hear?

RK: Right: But not so much the programming as the setting.  We scared people by doing that kind of programming in a concert hall situation.  It works better in one of the bigger outdoor festivals like Monterey, where — if you don’t like something — you just have a good picnic. You don’t have to listen.  So we just decided to basically take a theme approach.  If we do a night of Brazilian music, that’s what you’re going to hear.  Or if we do a double bill, we do it thoughtfully and try to make it work programmatically.

DH: How did you manage to survive that first year?

RK: Well, we lost money.  It was really a bit of a disaster.

DH: Yet you went on.

RK; Yes. Because we learned how to be diligent about fund raising.  We chose a good model.  I looked at the San Francisco Symphony – this great example in our own back yard – and I thought, “How do they do their funding for symphonic music, and can we apply the same approach to jazz?  So we did the non-profit thing. The first grant came from the city of San Francisco — $10,000.  And then another foundation member who sat on the same city advisory panel called and said, “I like your ideas.  If you send us an application, we’ll come up with $10,000.”  Out of the blue.  And I don’t know how we would have gone on without it.”

DH: So even after the problems in the first year, you still believed the concept of doing a Festival with diverse, but themed programming, was viable?

RK: Yes, because the fund sources we found believed in what we were doing, and were willing to take the chance to continue funding the second year.  And that’s really what got us on the right road.

DH: Did the idea of using the Jazz at Lincoln Center program as a model ever come up?

RK: Not directly. But they’re a good model in one sense — in that they forged an institution as a New York entity.  I felt that we had the opportunity to take a similar approach in our own area – to do something in San Francisco, the way we would do things in San Francisco.

DH: But isn’t there a similarity in the in the SFJAZZ Collective?  Like Jazz at Lincoln Center – you have your own touring band to sustain international interest in the Festival.

RK: True.  But, again, the model for that wasn’t really Lincoln Center.  It was back to the symphony model.  Which was: How do you start an ensemble that can represent the art form?  The standard institutional model for jazz has always been the big band.  But from our perspective, we thought we should do something that was a little different with the Collelctive. Which is what we did. And the response has been great.

DH: Given that decision to follow your own, uniquely San Francisco path, how broad can you go with the programming for the Festival?

RK: There’s a phrase we use – “We present jazz; music that jazz has influenced; and music that has influenced jazz.”  Which allows for a lot of connections.  We’ve done the Bach cello suite, the complete cycle, twice.  We worked with Kronos Quartet quite a bit over the years. We’ve done Philip Glass pieces and we’ve had performers from all over the world.  So we’re open to all sorts of connections.

DH: That’s a fascinatingly omnivorous view of jazz, obviously.  I wonder how it fits into the jazz-is-having-hard-times theme that some of the media – especially pop-oriented newspaper editors – have been chewing on lately.  As someone who is realistically involved, on a daily basis, with the condition of jazz, what’s your view of that theme and does it impact your work with the Festival?

RK:  I think the truth is that it isn’t just jazz that’s struggling.  I think it’s all of our culture – newspapers are right up there, as well as literature and all the fine arts and popular arts.  Everything is dispersing in different ways, getting knocked down off the big pedestals into lots of interesting little things.

DH: Do you mean a dumbing down?

RK: No.  I think it has to do with the way we consume things.  The whole digital revolution of being able to pick from thousands and thousands of things at our fingertips.  That process immediately sort of flattens everything – to quote Thomas Friedman – and everything is getting flattened out, getting squashed.  The clubs are disappearing – and not just the jazz clubs.  So, bottom line, don’t think any of it is anything endemic to jazz.  We’re right in the middle of a huge change. I’m old fashioned in the sense that I don’t think you can replace the kind of live, visceral experiences we offer at the Festival.  People still want to be with other people, too.  In a concert hall.  Reading a newspaper in a café.  But it’s changed radically how people get to those experiences.

DH: So let’s sum up here.  Given where you started 27 years ago; given your tendency to be somewhat conservative when making forecasts, when will you be ready to actually acknowledge that SFJAZZ has become something viable enough to have a real future despite the “huge change” in our culture you’ve just mentioned?.

RK: (Laughing)  Oh, maybe I’ll get to that point in another ten more years or so.  Just kidding.  It was actually around the tenth year that I began to realize that things were starting to change a lot.  And in 2000, when we started the Spring season, changed the name to SFJAZZ, we realized that we could be, and were going to be, a year around presenter. The model was working.  Then we established the SFJAZZ Collective, and now we’re comfortable enough to sort of start thinking about the next phase.

DH: Which will be what?

RK: We hope it’s going to be a facility of our own.  We haven’t announced anything yet, and I can’t say any more than that at this time.  But stay tuned..

DH: Sounds very intriguing.  I’ll definitely stay tuned. Thanks for taking the time to talk.  Look forward to seeing you at the Festival.

The San Francisco Jazz Festival — SFJAZZ — kicked off its 2009 Fall Season on Oct. 10 and continues from Oct. 20 (beginning with Omara Portuondo) through Nov. 21 (concluding with Keb’ Mo’ and Solomon Burke).  The richly diverse schedule includes, in addition to the names already mentioned above, Gonzalo Rubalcaba, Melody Gardot, Gal Costa, Mark Murphy, Ravi Shankar, Yasmin Levy, Dee Dee Bridgewater, James Cotton, John Handy, Sara Tavares, Pat Martino, Larry Goldings, Savion Glover, Milton Nascimento, John Abercrombie, Ornette Coleman and more.  For information about SFJAZZ, click here.


Q & A: Greg Stunbunny Biribauer and Kenny Pierce of U LIVE on the DANCEFLOOR

The Chaotic Duality of the Future

By Devon Wendell

Greg Stunbunny Bierbower

Greg Stunbunny Biribauer

I recently met up with Greg Stunbunny Biribauer — guitarist, producer, mixer, and co- founder of the art-rock band The Spores — along with the group’s original drummer Kenny Pierce. We met in Hollywood to discuss their latest band project — U LIVE on the DANCEFLOOR, which combines electro-dance music with futuristic rock. The band’s debut album, The Future Is Now (Abraca Pocus), was officially released on June 16th.

Devon Wendell: Greg, when did the overall concepts of ULD start entering your mind?

Greg Stunbunny Biribauer: Pretty much right after the break up of The Spores. Our friend Mike Massora had his ear to the ground as far as all of the latest DJ’s and underground stuff, plus we’re into mask craft and we thought that was a cool way of marketing the band image-wise. The name of the band came from a lyric and I knew no other band would use it. The meaning behind The Future Is Now has a lot to do with Obama winning the election and that there’s a chance that the world may finally get where it was supposed to go 40 years ago — people actually being kinder to each other, the hope that the greed of corporate America will disappear and having to put back into the community. All of those euphoric visions of the future from the 60’s seemed not so far away when he showed up, though we’ve got a long way to go. We do have a better chance now and we think he’s a cool dude.

DW: With ULD, do you find yourself getting away from the same musical concepts that influenced your work with The Spores?

GSB: The Spores had way more of a twee element because Molly was singing and there was more pop with the girl fronting. ULD slams a little harder and we’re able to stretch out the arrangements a little easier now. There was a lot more pressure with The Spores that we couldn’t live up to and of course there’s only two of us, Kenny and myself, in ULD. There’s fewer personalities and mouths to feed but we’re still a real band even though we use loops and click tracks.

DW: Between your live engineering, your collaborations with various artists, your work with The Spores, and especially now with ULD, there’s a sense of moving toward something larger than an orchestral sound. Musically, it’s very reminiscent of the set of a Kubrick film. Is space and size something that enters your mind while composing and recording?

GSB: Yes and it’s amazing you mention Kubrick because I’m a huge fan. The way that he works that I’ve always subscribed to is that you throw a bunch of ideas against the wall that have to come out, whether it’s artistic or emotional. And through that process you hopefully discover what you don’t like and by stripping those elements away, you’re then left with the beginning or skeleton of what you were coined to do. That’s pretty much how I made the album, though of course I couldn’t be as meticulous as Kubrick on a recording. All of a sudden it just existed.

DW: Imagery seems to play such a key roll in ULD. The videos for “The Future Is Now,” “I Need U,” and “Hey Hey Hey” are closer to short films than cliché music videos. “Baby’s Gone” has an acute understanding of film noir and Italian cinema. Does classic cinematography and still-photography influence the music first or is it the other way around?

GSB: It’s the other way around. When we shot “Baby’s Gone,” it was just something off the top of our heads and done in one day. People spend too much time and money on rock videos to kind of justify their existence, including many bands that I’ve worked with. They should be shot quickly. They’re really secondary to the music. It should start with a certain vibe or idea and happen organically, Which is why I like the artistic freedom of the YouTube phenomenon. The old notion from the industry was “The more money we spend on the video, the more people will like the record.” Those days are over.

DW: The term “Art Rock” or “Industrial” comes up a lot when referring to your work. How do you feel about labels like that?

GSB: Genres serve a purpose because people who work in record stores need a place to put the music and journalists need to categorize to start a conversation. Our purpose is to completely blow that apart, but still you can’t just say, “It’s all just music or art.” In the 60’s, people like Hendrix and The Who were taking the audience on such an amazing journey while still wrapping up three-minute, radio-friendly songs. The best artists incorporate jazz, funk, classic rock, techno, folk and find their own sound. Zeppelin would make up three-hour live sets on the spot. No one has the balls to do that now and neither do we. But we’re trying to bring back that live bombast through expanding on what dance rock should be. But we don’t want to sound like a classic rock band, either.

DW: Well, there’s no doubt that you have a sound that’s very modern. But tell me about older styles of music that have influenced you.

GSB: Almost anyone who played at Woodstock is worth checking out. Beatles, Beatles, Beatles. Digital music is great but has turned us into a generation of singles buyers as apposed to the 60’s when it was more about the whole album. Jazz was a huge influence growing up. My dad was a collector and I grew up hearing Miles, Monk, Bird, Count Basie, and Sinatra. He took me to see Mingus at some dingy club in Toronto and it was very heavy to witness that improvisation process.. Now there’s so much politicking to make cookie cutter music for Disney or a Cadillac commercial.

Kenny Pierce: My grandmother played a lot of Motown. I didn’t always know who the artists or songs were but I loved that sound. At first I hated Zeppelin and The Beatles. But I developed a love for them later. Also ‘80’s bands like The Thompson Twins and Joy Division, Depeche Mode. And I just started listening to The Germs. I saw a film on them and they’re an influence on me now.

DW: There’s a sense of unabashed fun and overt sensuality that’s consistent throughout The Future Is Now. Is that intentional and a part of your personalities?

GSB: We don’t hold anything back and wear our hearts on our sleeves because if you’re going to bother doing it, do it all the way.

KP: Definitely both. I wear my heart like a crown. Music brings out those unexpected characteristics in your personality — like method acting. You can’t get away with certain things on the streets that you can get away with on stage — for now anyway.

DW: How would you describe the working chemistry between the two of you?

GSB: The bottom line for me is that Kenny is the only guy for the job. There’s world class and then there’s just functional. I believe he’s one of the top ten drummers alive. He’s like Dave Grohl good. We were together in The Spores, but in that environment, it began to feel like we were back treading. There’s that genuine trust, understanding and chemistry like Hendrix had with Mitch Mitchell, The Who with Keith Moon, Miles with Max Roach, . We know what works and what doesn’t.

DW: Let’s talk about the writing process of ULD. Do you do all of the writing, Greg? Or is it a collaborative effort?

GSB: I wrote all of the tracks. I write a lot of poetry so I’ll just sing off the top of my head and edit it down so it fits the music in a way that you won’t see that existing thread through it all. I’ll take a few words and chop them in half to get another context that I never intended in the first place. Which is a trick that Dylan, Lennon, and many others have done, but don’t talk about because it’s like giving away the great secret. Even the nonsensical stuff has a universal appeal. It you write too concisely or personal, it can become near-sighted.

DW: Do you have a set goal in mind when working on a piece or are you more driven by spontaneous mood?

GSB: Spontaneous. Yeah. You start with an idea but it completely morphs over time, unlocking all of these little puzzles and it never ends up being the same as that initial idea and thank God for that. The original idea is usually too inspired by something else — like you’re stealing a chord or something — but you need to keep working to put your own stamp on it.

KP: Sometimes the best idea is the first idea but it gets lost and the more you work on it trying to get back that first idea, it takes away from the freshness of it so you need to wipe the slate clean.

DW: Greg, besides the images in the videos for “Hey Hey Hey,” there’s a lot of Hendrix-esque backwards, multi-layered guitar work in your playing, evident on many of ULD’s songs. Tell me about Jimi’s influence on your playing.

GSB: When I saw the film of Jimi’s set at Woodstock, it seemed like he was an alien. It was beyond anything else. In the 60’s, there was that sense that the cream really would rise to the top, that you could present your talent organically and be accepted. But because of the cookie cutter mentality of the industry today and the need for selling a brand, I don’t think someone like Hendrix would make it the way the Jonas Brothers are.

DW: Is ULD just a temporary experiment or do you hope to be doing this ten years from now?

GSB: We’re going to follow through. Kenny and I have proven that we can’t break up, so we’re stuck with this. And hopefully we’ll outlive The Jonas Brothers.

DW: One more question. Tell me about the significance of the masks in your videos.

GSB: In a general context, it’s a suppression of the ego, wanting the music to stand on its own. As well as hiding the fact that we’re a little older, to be honest.

KP: (laughing) We don’t want to attract too many women, either. We don’t want to end up like The Beatles.

GSB: Exactly, we don’t want that kind of distraction going on. It’s a way to stand out with an element of mystery and intrigue. We think it’s a great device. I believe people are fed up with artists trying to promote their own selves. And eventually we wear them because there may be people who want to throw bottles and pots at us. So it’s good protective gear.

KP: Plus we like hockey.

DW: I knew that was it. Thank you both so much for your time.

To read other International Review of Music Q & A’s click here.

Q & A: Larry Rosen — music entrepreneur, producer and musician, Part II

By Fernando Gonzalez

This is the second part of a conversation in Miami Beach Larry Rosenwith music entrepreneur, producer and musician Larry Rosen. Part I addressed the state of the music business. This second and final installment focuses on Rosen’s work as a live jazz producer in Miami.

Rosen, who has been living in Miami since 2,000, is the producer of the jazz series Jazz Roots, now in its second season, at the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts in Miami.

PART II: The Next Important Thing: Selling jazz in Miami — and selling jazz.

FG: You are now producing a jazz series for the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts in Miami. Looking at the history of Miami as a jazz market, what did you think would be the challenges now, and what that made you think it could work now?

LR: Running GRP records I had artists traveling all over the world. So when artists had a record out, they would go out and promote it in different cities. We would know what the sales were in those cities; I knew what kind of market [that city] was. So when I came here, after leaving GRP, I certainly knew what it was like for jazz here. Anyone who’s in the jazz business knows that Miami is not a jazz market. But you don’t really understand Miami unless you live here. So once I started living here I got a much better understanding of the ethnic mixture of Miami, what audiences go to see, what’s happening, where is it happening and what the general vibe is, and I understood why this is not a jazz market.

FG: What are some of the issues that you see as particular to Miami?

LR For starters, among the majority of the population here, there is no real history to listening to jazz when they were growing up. And then, there are no jazz clubs. The thing with New York City, or most cities, is that there are clubs, audiences build through those clubs, and then they’d go to the record retail store and buy the music, go to concerts, and listen to the stations that would support [jazz]. But not here. So the reality in Miami is a very limited audience experience in a changing environment.

FG How did you then approach selling jazz in Miami?

LR When I came here I got a better understanding of why this was not a jazz market, and I also started to understand the dynamics of the market more. At the time the Performing Arts Center was being built, so when I thought of jazz here, and considering that there are no clubs, it sounded like the Performing Arts Center is the place. But I also knew that it had to be different from other jazz programs at performing arts centers in other cities. I felt here it had to be catered to this community not only in that [the program] had to present world-class artists but also that there would have to be an educational component.
You had to educate the audience — at all levels. It wasn’t just for the person that would spend $100 in a ticket but the young people in school. So an education program had to be a very important piece because education is a way to reach out to a community in a much more in-depth way.

FG: So by “education” you mean not only work with the schools and creating educational activities but also a certain approach to the marketing.

LR: My approach was to connect the dots. In New York you say ‘Tonight at the Village Vanguard: Sonny Rollins,’ you don‘t need to say anything else. They know. Any place else you do need to connect the dots. You need an over-arching theme. ‘Jazz at the Center’ is not going to sell the program to people. You need to make connections [about the music] for people, and for that you have to go to the roots. And the roots of all the music of the [Atlantic side of the] Americas are the drums. It came from Africa and became the roots of Brazilian music, Cuban music, Puerto Rican music, reggae, calypso, and in the United States it developed into blues and jazz and gospel and rock and rap. So the pitch that I wanted was Jazz Roots meaning these are the roots of much of the music of the Americas and given the ethnicity of Miami if we tell that story well, we connect the dots: if you like samba you should like Sonny Rollins; and if you like Sonny Rollins you should like Machito and if you like Machito you should like [Tom] Jobim — because everything is coming from the same source. From a musical point of view we are all related, we are all cousins. That was kind of the main focus. So the series would touch on all these different styles that are all related to jazz.

FG: Do you see this as a strategy that can be used elsewhere besides Miami?

LR: I think what is happening in Miami is something of a beta test of this idea of using the performing arts center [as the hub of the marketing jazz in the city], and also involving NPR radio, the PBS television affiliate here, going out and creating educational programs, and creating marketing packages. Packaging becomes extremely important.

FG: What kind of work has been developed in the schools in Miami?

LR: With the schools we started with different ideas. We found out that in Miami-Dade [the county where the cities of Miami and Miami Beach are located] there are 900 kids in jazz bands. So there are jazz bands in every single high school, and they may play Afro Cuban jazz or Latin jazz. Other might play Duke Ellington. So one of the things we decided was: we’re going to bring every one of these kids to these concerts. We raised $280,000 and the first thing we did was to bring in these kids. So working with the performing arts center, we reached out to the school system and figured out how to put group schools together and bring them to the shows, 150 kids to each concerts.

They would come in the afternoon for the sound check, meet the artist, then we’d take them to the educational center and have someone from FIU [Florida International University] or some of the schools to give them a talk about the roots of the music and how this related to this particular show and this particular artist. And after that we’d give them dinner and bring them in to sit in the audience, experience the show and then get back in the bus and their community. Realize that 99% of these kids would never go to a performing arts center because their parents would never go to a performing arts center because they think of them as some sort of expensive, elitist place to go. You can change kids lives by doing this.

FG: Is there also a curriculum component to this?

LR: Next year we are writing a curriculum for the whole Miami School System that would be both in middle school and high school that’s going to take about the culture related to the music. So [through] the University of Miami doctoral department we are working in conjunction, writing this curriculum that’s going to meet the regulation of the state of Florida so — when a teacher is teaching History, English, Social Studies or anything else — they can then utilize this information and integrate it into their curriculums. This is not just for music teachers. I’m making music samples for them and there will be a turnkey thing where to get this information so Jazz Roots becomes much more in depth as an educational program in Miami. And if it works here, it’s another beta test, we’ll move it to other cities.

FG: You have been living in Miami for awhile now so that might be reason enough, but still, you are a business person, why Miami and why Miami now?

LR: If you look at musical movements in America they’ve all come from some city that’s going through some social change: think New Orleans, think New York City, obviously; or Chicago and the blues; Kansas City at a certain time, Nashville of course, Los Angeles, San Francisco during the ‘60s.

I think the next place is Miami. I totally believe this is where the next music in the United States is going to be formulated. Something is going to come out of here that’s going to go around the world.

Because [to create that] you need certain things: you need ethnic mixture, cultures rubbing together, you need art, and we have Art Basel, the biggest art market in the world, and you have the style thing of South Beach, plus you have financial wealth.
And you have the Performing Arts Center, which can be the centerpiece of this whole thing, and you have a city looking to reach out to the arts to create something here.
That’s’ why I think the next thing is going to happen here. And that’s why I think it’s so important to organically build what has to be built here in order for this new music to come out. Jazz is going to have a part of it, Latin music is going to have a part of it, electronics will have a part of it, and it all fuses here to create something that entrepreneurs can step into.

And I think something really important is going to happen here…in Miami.

To read Part l of the Larry Rosen Q & A click here.

Q & A: Larry Rosen — music entrepreneur, producer and musician, Part I

By Fernando Gonzalez

For more than 20 years, music entrepreneur, producer and musician Larry Rosen has shown an uncanny sense to be one step ahead of the changes in the music business. In 1982, when the industry was still debating CDs, Rosen and partner Dave Grusin founded GRP, a record company predicated on a then-groundbreaking all-digital philosophy for recording and a CD-only policy for releases. In the 1990s, as new forms of music distribution were coming into view, Rosen moved on and founded the online music retailer N2K.
He has his own production company and is the Larry Rosenco-chairman of LRSmedia, which “creates music brands and products, which it sells and markets through their own produced television, radio, Internet, and live performance events.” The most notable such products are the one-hour prime time special
Legends of Jazz (PBS, 2005), which was followed, in 2006, by a 13-part series of the same name. He is currently working on an eight-part television series titled, Recording: The History of Recorded Music, which is scheduled for broadcast in the fall of 2009.
Rosen, who has been living in Miami since 2,000, is also the producer of the jazz series
Jazz Roots, now in its second season, at the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts in Miami.

Our conversation took place in Miami Beach.

PART I: The Old Model

FG: It seems that every discussion about the crisis in the music industry tends to focus on the impact of the web and piracy. What is your view?

LR: The whole business model of the record industry doesn’t work anymore. The old business was made of certain components: the record label was at the top of the heap because they were the ones who had the funding. They were the curators who chose the artists, made the records and then went out and made sure that records sold. In order to do that, they had to have radio — a very strong component of any strategy to sell records. Then you had to work the market with live performances, be them in clubs or concerts. And finally, you had to have the retailers where people could go buy this music. And you had to have all those parts working together to make it work.

FG: But that was then. The music, the creative core is still healthy, but none of the other components is still working.

LR: Well, there is no record retail environment anymore, there are very few radio stations that make a difference (because most have been bought up by giant conglomerates). And, of course, people are not buying physical product anymore – which was the way music was distributed through record companies and what gave them their power because they controlled the manufacturing, distribution, warehousing, sales to stores, and paying the artists. So you look at all those pieces and you see why the entire paradigm is not working. The record company is not needed anymore, the physical product is not where it’s at anymore, it’s diminishing every year, radio doesn’t play its role anymore and the record retailers do not even exist anymore. So none of it works. It’s a new ballgame.

FG: Historically, the record industry must be the only one of the major industries that does little or no Research & Development . Given those changes you mentioned, and the fact that much of the old structure that nurtured and provided the industry with it creative ¨workers¨ and its customers is now in shambles, should the industry rethink its approach?

LR: The answer is ‘Yes, of course.” Will it happen? The answer is “No.”
When you say “the industry” primarily, in the past, it meant the record companies, because they were the ones who signed the artist and the ones who, if successful, would make money from this thing. But record companies don’t spend money on anything unless there is a direct return on their investment — right now, this quarter. And that´s a big problem within the music industry. And that´s why it´s declining so quickly.

FG: Wasn’t it always like this? There was a time when companies were owned and driven by personalities and their tastes – the Erteguns, Alfred Lion and Francis Wolff, Bob Thiele. Was it different then? How did it change?

LR: This [industry] was once run by entrepreneurs who loved the music, loved the artists, and would invest in an artist and stick with him year in and year out and build that artist. When this industry got to be bigger and bigger and bigger and was consolidated, these public corporations bought up all the other record labels and had MBAs running them. And these guys would be looking at quarterly results, the stock price and have all the pressure of the market. The last thing they were concerned about is what it’s all about: the music. And if you are not really concerned about the music and all you care is the quarterly result, why would you ever educate anybody to develop an audience in the future? You might not be running that company two years from now.

FG: It’s clear how that might affect artistic decisions, but was the approach so short-term across the board, even with business decisions?

LR: Let me give you another example: When CDs came in, the record industry didn’t want to spend any money on CDs. I was there. As an entrepreneur I saw a great opportunity. But the record companies said: “Look, I have all these pressing companies, all the retailers have all their shelves in 12 inch high bins, who needs to have a CD? That’s 5 inches, we have to redo the stores and I have to invest millions in a new pressing plant. I don’t need this thing.” They were not supportive of the CD.

FG: Was there also a concern about the fact that when you are putting out CDs you are putting out masters and the potential consequences of that for your business?

LR: Yes, it’s true. Technology is going to change the whole fundamentals of your business, but you are not going to stop it, that’s the point, so get with it. There is no choice. Technology is going in one direction, consumers are going in that direction and you are a total ass if you are trying to stop it. But that’s what they tried to do. And you can see what happened: they killed themselves. So when I think about where the opportunities are in music and what has to happen, the so-called record companies are not even in the picture.

FG: And then we went past CDs, past physical distribution and began dealing with downloads. Was the lesson learned?.

LR: Same thing when it came to the idea of buying and distributing music electronically. They were totally against it. And I started another company N2K in which the whole idea was to sell music electronically and move in the direction I felt technology was going. And they tried to actually stop that from happening. The reality is that you can’t defy gravity. It´s idiotic. You won’t stop technology or progress. It’s that simple. No matter what you think, it doesn’t make any difference.

FG: So then what is the new paradigm, the new model?

LR: I’m exploring that from an entrepreneurial point of view. The performing arts centers can be part of that new model. I think NPR is part of that model. I think you have to figure out who is the consumer for this kind of product, where they aggregate, how do you get the music to them, and how do they get exposed to it. And when they are, if it´s good, they´ll start taking to it.

To read Part II of Larry Rosen’s Q & A, click here.

Q & A: Jimmy Cobb, Kind of Blue and the Playboy Jazz Festival

By Don Heckman

Jimmy Cobb

Jimmy Cobb

The Playboy Jazz Festival this weekend at the Hollywood Bowl offers its familiar cornucopia of musical delights. But there’s another, more unusual slant to this year’s festivities – two of them actually. And both center around the number 50. The first is the fact that it was 50 years ago, in 1959, that the first Playboy Jazz Festival, in Chicago, clearly established the relationship between Playboy and jazz that would continue over the next half century. The second unusual number 50-related slant is the anniversary of the release of Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, the best selling jazz recording of all time. To underscore that golden memory, drummer Jimmy Cobb will perform a tribute to Kind of Blue with his So What Band. As the only surviving member of the Davis ensemble of 1959 – which also included John Coltrane, Julian “Cannonball” Adderley, Bill Evans, Wynton Kelly and Paul Chambers – Cobb is a direct link to the original recording. We had a conversation on the phone yesterday just before he was scheduled to take the band on stage at Yoshi’s in Oakland. In it, Cobb provided a fascinating overview of how a date that initially seemed to be just another recording session became an iconic jazz event.

DH: Jimmy, let’s begin with the So What Band and the plan to celebrate the golden anniversary of Kind of Blue. How did it all come about?

JC: I think it was a brainchild of my wife, Elena, thinking about how we could do something to honor Miles’ memory and the memory of the best selling jazz record in history. We started out in a place in New York called Smoke — just a kind of dress rehearsal. Then we went to Jacksonville, New Orleans and then Sao Paulo, Brazil and got a good reception everywhere. After Playboy, we’ve got about six gigs in Canada, and then we’re going to take it to Europe. Probably 30 or 40 gigs all together.

DH: That’s quite a revival tour. But even with the affectionate memories that the music from “Kind of Blue” has for so many jazz fans, you still had to have the right band to make it all happen. How did you put the So What band together?

JC: Well, my wife Elena and I thought about some people who would be able to play this music the right way, and these were the guys we came up with. The trumpet player – Wallace Roney — would have been Miles’ choice, anyway. And the piano player, Larry Willis, he loves Wynton Kelly, so that’s why he was our choice. Vincent Herring loves Cannonball, and Javan Jackson loves Coltrane. And we’ve got a great bass player named John Weber replacing Buster Williams, who’s having some health problems.

DH: Terrific players, every one of them. But let’s go back now and talk about the original Kind of Blue. Can you recall how you felt before you went into that studio back in March of 1959. Was there any special anticipation in your mind?

JC: Oh, no. I didn’t have any inkling about what was happening before the date.. When I got there, I was probably the first one there, cause that’s what a drummer has to do. So I was setting up my drums when they came in with whatever music they had relative to what we were going to do. Didn’t seem like anything special.

DH: What happened after you were all set up and ready to go?

JC: They discussed it and then we proceeded to do it. There wasn’t a whole lot of preparation from me. And I don’t think there was that much from them, either. They had an idea that Miles and Bill Evans put together and that’s what they did.

DH: No more complicated than that. Wow. Did they give you a sense of what was expected from you?

JC:: No. They just expected regular stuff. Like time signatures. If was in three, that was what they expected; if it was four, that was what they expected. And if it was soft they expected you to be soft.

DH: And I would guess, given the music, that they expected you to lay back on a lot of the stuff.

JC: Yeah, sure. That’s it. For the places where it was supposed to be laid back on. But there was one tune – the one that Wynton Kelly played on, “Freddie Freeloader” — where they expected you to be the way you are.

DH: You mean more like the straight ahead playing of that time.

JC: Right. That’s why Wynton was there because that’s the kind of playing Miles wanted to hear on that tune.

DH: So there wasn’t anything unusual about the way Miles approached the date. Because you guys had actually been working together for a while when you did the Kind of Blue session.

JC: Yeah, we were working together all the time.

DH: With Cannonball, Coltrane, Bill Evans and Paul Chambers?

JC: Yes, Except Bill had come in after Red Garland. And I was there for the last part of the time Red was in the band.

DH: That must have been a big change. They were very different players.

JC: Right. And that’s probably how Miles came up with what that album is all about – in collaboration with Bill’s feelings and stuff, and the way he played.

DH: Once you were in the studio, actually the date, did you have any feeling that something unusual was taking place?

JC: Well, I was aware that it wasn’t the usual structured kind of thing – structured tunes, show tunes, stuff like that. It was just like a few chords and a few scales.

DH: No standards, no hard bop lines. More like what Miles had started doing on the Milestones album?

JC: That’s right. It was an entirely different way.

DH: Did that mean that you had to do a lot of takes?.

JC: No, almost everything was straight down,. Except for one tune – “Freddie Freeloader,” the one Wynton was on – where Miles didn’t want him to play a certain chord at the second ending of something. So he stopped us and told him not to play that chord, and that was it.

DH: Jimmy, you played on some of the Gil Evans things with Miles, as well, didn’t you?

JC: Yeah. I was there when Philly Jo didn’t show up for the second part of the Porgy and Bess album, and I finished that. Then I did the whole Sketches of Spain album and the In A Silent Way album.

DH: Do you think that Gil Evans had an impact on Kind of Blue, as well?

JC: Oh yeah. Bill, Gil and Miles. The three of them. That Spanish thing we did came about because of Miles’ wife – Frances. She was a dancer and she had danced in one of the Spanish dances. And she got him interested. She told him he had to listen to that music. So she went and bought an album, Miles listened to it, and he got Gil to write an arrangement.

DH: The sound of Kind of Blue has always seemed incredibly alive to me. Were you in a booth or behind a baffle for the recording?

JC: I was behind a baffle. That’s why when you see pictures of that session you kind of don’t hardly see me at all. Because I was away from the main group, with a baffle around me. Paul had a baffle around him, too, but he was closer to the rest of the guys.

DH: But that didn’t affect the interplay of the music or the quality of the sound, did it?

JC: See, they had an exceptional engineer there, and he knew where everything sounded the best, at each spot in the room. He had recorded everybody in that room – Mitch Miller, Duke Ellington, all different kinds of music. So he knew where the best sounds for each instruments were. And he had me sitting in the exact spot where the toms – all the drums — sounded best.

DH: Are you surprised that what you and Miles and the other musicians played in that studio on those two days in 1959 has produced the best selling jazz record of all time?

JC: Yes I am. ‘Cause in my mind, there’s Louis Armstrong, there’s all those bands that I used to hear when I was coming up — Count Basie, Duke Ellington. If Duke Ellington didn’t sell more records, with all that music he wrote — him and Billy Strayhorn – man! So I’ve always been amazed that I could even be involved in a situation like that – to be in a group of people that sold the most jazz records of all time. That’s a historical thing to me.

DH: And to millions of listeners, as well. Quite a few of whom are looking forward to hearing you bring it alive again on Saturday at the Hollywood Bowl. Thanks for taking the time to give us some first person perspective on how it all began.

Q & A: Matt Roberts of 3 Doors Down

Matt Roberts’ Rebirth on the Road

by Devon Wendell

I recently had a candid phone interview with 3 Doors Down’s lead guitarist, Matt Roberts. Matt was at his home in Nashville, on Matt Roberts 2a rare day off from the road. After four critically acclaimed albums and hits like “Kryptonite,” “Loser,” “Duck and Run,” “Here Without You” and “When I’m Gone,” this chart-topping, multi- platinum, award winning rock/alternative group (Brad Arnold, vocals; Matt Roberts, lead guitar; Todd Harrel, bass; Chris Henderson, rhythm guitar; and Greg Upchurch, drums) from Escatawpa, Mississippi embarked on their latest U.S tour in March, a tour which will carry them through the summer.

DW: Most of the guys in 3 Doors Down have known each other since grade school. What has held you together for so many years?

MR: Being pragmatic and having to meet obligations to our fans and the core foundation — looking outside of ourselves.

DW: In what ways do you feel the band has changed since the early days?

MR: We’re still the same group of guys, but with a lot more life experience. Most people who just stay at home may not understand that.

DW: You started out as a rock band in a small town in Mississippi. How would you categorize the band’s music today?

MR: We still just like to think of ourselves as a rock band. I don’t see us doing any other thing.

DW: Did you ever imagine, when you guys first started jamming in Escatawpa, that you would reach such a high level of success and fame?

MR: Oh, no, of course not. I can’t say I did. It’s been a process over the last ten years. At first it was a shock, but today it’s just amazing to have a career — so I see it from a different perspective now.

DW: Let’s talk about your role in the band, as lead guitarist. There’s such a rich heritage of amazing guitar players from your home state of Mississippi, especially stemming from the blues. Did any of that rub off on you growing up?

MR: Well, it’s something that’s always been there, and B.B King’s playing and story has definitely influenced me as a player, and Muddy Waters, who, of course, left Mississippi. Yeah, but it’s only in the back of my mind and not the first thing I think of. But there is something special there.

DW: But your first major influence actually came from somewhere else, didn’t i?

MR: Definitely. Jimmy Page. When I first heard him it was like, “ Wow that’s really different.”

DW: It’s interesting that the band recently recorded a rendition of Blind Faith’s “Presence Of The Lord” with the Soul Children Of Chicago on the compilation Oh Happy Day (EMI Gospel). Given who the guitar player was on the original version – Eric Clapton — did this have any special significance for you as a player?

MR: Yeah, it was an honor, and great to go back and capture that vintage sound and those riffs. We tried to be true to the original and really listened to that record.

DW: Which of the band’s tracks do you feel displays your best guitar work?

MR: Well, I’d have to say “Dangerous Game” from the album Away From the Sun (Universal 2002), because it’s an elaborate piece and rhythmically well structured, though it’s not one of my overall favorite tracks that we’ve done.

DW: So many lead rock guitarists are very dominating. Have you ever found it difficult to play a more subordinate or subtle role in the group?

MR: I have an overall engaging presence and play a proud dominating role, not just as a guitar player but as a composer, working on the tracks from the ground up with the band.

DW: Do you remember the first guitar you ever owned?

MR: Sure. A Harmony electric from Service Merchandise, which was like a Sears store. It was a real cheapy guitar, and I was 9 years old.

DW: So you started collecting early. Are you still collecting?

MR: I have a pretty nice collection — a ‘57 custom Les Paul and some others worth a few coins, but without going too overboard.

DW: And on the gig — what do you play now? What’s your set-up?

MR: All Ibanez guitars — who I’m endorsed by. I go for just a big modern heavy sound. My clean channel is great and non-brittle. I use Genz Benz amps, which supports both clean and heavy tones.

DW: What about other influences? Who do you listen to?

MR: Pretty much just guitars, though I do love all instruments. Guitar is my main thing. But I feel that there’s not that many guitar-oriented bands today like there once were. As far as virtuosos, Joe Satriani is definitely one I listen to.

DW: The band’s been together nearly 15 years now, and you guys are true road warriors, traveling a lot. Do you still enjoy life on the road?

MR: Yeah, but sometimes you’d like to just go home for a few days.

DW: Do you have time to listen to music – other than your own?

MR: I usually don’t listen to much music on the road because of the hectic schedule. It’s constant get up and go, so there’s not a lot of time. But at home I try to play catch up and listen to stuff like Derek & The Dominoes, and Zeppelin – a lot of classic rock.

DW: Do you ever get the feelings of homesickness on the road that are so well depicted on your tune, “Here Without You”?

MR: It does get tough and grueling after so many years, but the realization of “Wow I’m still doing this?” is like a rebirth.

DW: Thank you so much, Matt. Enjoy your day off and the best of luck on the rest of the tour.

Q & A: Producer Ross Robinson

Ross Robinson’s Public Pursuit of Intimacy

By Devon Wendell

Last week, I met with legendary rock/alternative producer Ross Robinson and the band Repeater at his studio/compound in Venice California. Over the past two decades, Robinson has produced such notable artists as The Cure, Korn, Slipknot, At The Drive In, Glassjaw, Norma Jean, and dozens of others. This Zen-Like craftsman is currently lending his expertise to a young group from Long Beach, Repeater (Steve Krolikowski, guitar, vocals, Alex Forsythe,guitars, Victor Cuevez, bass, Rob Wallace, keyboards, Matt Hanief, drums). The band has access to Robinson’s home and studio while recording their sophomore album. Together, Robinson and the group have formed White Label Collective, an independent company allowing artists more creative freedom from outside sources. Robinson has also teamed up with Ustream.TV, giving Internet fans a rare behind-the-scenes view of Robinson and the group during all phases of production.

rrobinson with repeater

Repeater with Ross Robinson

DW: How were you first introduced to Repeater’s music?

RR: They sent me a friend request on Myspace.

DW: You’ve worked with some of the most innovative groups in the rock/alternative world such as The Cure, Korn, Slipknot, and many more. What was it about Repeater that got your attention?

RR: The open feeling of raw emotion. I always like that.

DW: How would you categorize Repeater’s music, or do you dislike those labels?

RR: I’m stripping away a lot of influence and pushing hard to get actual personality to breathe as new life being born through intense inquiry of the lyrics through each player. This works like a charm but it takes guts.

DW: There are some particularly fine lyrics on Repeater’s tracks; “Killing Without Question,” “Some Girls Leave,” and “Carved in Shadow.” Do you think younger music lovers are less focused on that aspect of the music?

RR: No. If you feel the truth that speaks to your deep inner voice, you listen. This band has some issues to deal with.

DW: What would you say is your main objective with White Label Collective?

RR: The objective is to rise up and show more strength through giving back to what makes my day amazing — music.

DW: From my experience, most producers are very closed and private during recording sessions, but with your current partnering with Ustream. TV, you’re inviting millions of people to witness the entire process online. Can you explain your motives behind this and does it ever make you feel overly exposed or self-conscious?

RR: Motives? Get the music out there, and it’s not me that people see. It’s the process of me working to get the core source behind the players’ minds to play the instruments. I keep my image separate and focus on the vibe.

DW: A lot of producers are set on making their own presence known on a project. Do you find it hard to walk that fine line between bringing out a musician’s unique sound and putting your own distinct production stamp on a recording?

RR: If fire is my stamp, great! That’s all I want to feel, the sonic is so not important. I’m purposely working to see God through the fire in the players’ tracks.

DW: You’ve always been willing to take risks as a producer. Do you find that with the economic pinch bringing many major record labels down or in dire straights, that there is more freedom to make bolder moves as you are doing with White label Collective and Ustream TV?

RR: Nothing is different for me except that I work harder now with my own studio at my house. My choices were to always go against the obvious and be competitive with whatever was manufactured and popular — to try to bring in something different and inspired.

DW: Along with Ustream TV, you are very much involved with “social networking,” Myspace, online blogging, etc. Do you find that the anarchy that exists in those mediums gets in the way of selling a band’s product? Or does open up more avenues?

RR: It’s still chaotic, let’s see what happens!

DW : Now that artists are having to work harder independently, having to think of packaging, sales, budgets, and those “non-creative elements,” do you feel that it’s hurt the music or added some great, fear-driven edge?

RR: “Fear- driven edges” = major labels needing hits to feed more fear, while holding on to nothing, as fear driven bands say “Yes!” to some very sick and insane people who never tried to play an instrument. I think it’s great, It gives fearless honesty a huge window to shine! The people will show up to help if you’re great. That’s just the law of the universe. Greatness also needs the clarity to ask for help.

DW: If you hear another Radiohead rip-off band, will you be forced into early retirement?

RR: I will be forced to still not care about them.

DW: Many of the groups you’ve worked with such as The Cure, Korn, Slipknot, and now Repeater are delightfully bleak to a certain degree. Does this say something about your own personality?

RR: I guess I relate love with tragedy, woo hoo!

DW: There’s seems to me to be a “drone” element to a lot of your work. Is that intentional?

RR: Really? Weird! Cool!

DW: Would you ever venture outside of the Alternative/Rock genre and work
with say a jazz, hip-hop, or klezmer music band?

RR: Yes, with pleasure.

DW: Aside from producing, you’re also considered to be an A&R person. There seem to be a lot of negative connotations associated with those words today. Why do you think that is?

RR: My thing is to simply find bands I would like to be in and help them get released. I have nothing to do with pimping out bands and turning them into jaded, fear-driven prostitutes.

DW: What do you look for in new artists?

RR: The feeling of “YES!” inside my body.

DW: Do you find that rock music as a whole has become less self indulgent, like maybe we’re finally past the days of the 20 minute guitar solo?

RR: I don’t know, let’s see. It’s in between phases right now.

DW: Do you insist on doing most of the engineering on a recording project yourself?

RR: No, budget does.

DW: I know one of the many challenges for producers is reaching that point of finality, whether it’s during the pre- or post-production phase. There’s that impulse to want to keep exploring. Is it ever hard for you to say “Okay, that’s perfect” and step away?

RR: No, it’s easy to know when to stop. I just know without knowing what it’s going to end up being. It’s leaving it up to the song to decide rather than myself. Kind of woo woo-ish.

DW: What were some of the first recordings that made you want to become a producer?

RR: The Beatles, early ZZ Top, Eagles, etc, and tons of metal.

DW: Did you start out as a performer?

RR: I was a thrash metal guitar player and a full-on Beavis.

DW: Where do you see the record industry in five years from now?

RR: Making more money than ever before through the same source that is making it bigger than ever before. I love this cleansing process, It gives clarity. But the detox can be a little painful.

DW. Thanks for your time Ross and your insights. It’s been a real pleasure.

Q & A: (From the Archives) Paul Simon 1972

By Don Heckman

In early 1972, I was covering pop and rock music for the New York Times, and Paul Simon had just released his first, eponymously titled, solo LP. Two years earlier, Simon and Art Garfunkel had produced the extraordinarily successful album (and song) “Bridge Over Troubled Water” – a recording that would (except for 1981’s live “Concert in Central Park”) be the last from one of the iconic pop music acts of the ‘60s, as each member of the duo embarked on a solo path. In the course of writing an NYT feature, Simon and I had a discussion of topics ranging from ‘Bridge’ to the new solo album, from the break-up of the duo to Simon’s first steps into his career as a solo artist. Here are some excerpts from our conversation.

Paul Simon 1

DH: Looks as though you and Art Garfunkel took the old saying, “Quit while you’re ahead,” to heart. You’ve decided to break up the act after having produced “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” a hit album and a huge hit song.

PS: That song was bigger than anyone expected, especially me. I hear it now and sometimes I can’t even remember when I wrote it. It doesn’t feel attached to me at all. But at the time there was no sense that it would be a hit of such enormous proportions. We were just working on a record, and we were fighting. Our patience was running out and there was sort of vaguely the presence of Mike Nichols around, which was disconcerting to me.

DH: Artie was working at the time on the film “Catch 22” for Nichols, getting his acting career under way?

PS: And half the time he was flying off to Rome, so it was an extremely tense time, not pleasant at all. I wrote the song up high for him to sing it, and when he came back I played it for him. He said, ‘Well, I like it, but maybe you should do it.’ And I said, ‘No, I insist that you do it.’ I don’t know why I insisted so much. Maybe I should analyze myself to find out why I insisted to that degree. I thought possibly it wouldn’t even be a good single. I thought maybe it was too long. You know, you work on these things and you don’t play them for anyone but your friends, and sometimes you don’t hear another opinion from anyone until the album comes out.

DH: But you found out pretty quickly when this one came out, didn’t you?

PS: Oh, yeah. Later on, when we did our last tours, I remember many times sitting out of the spotlight watching Larry Knechtel playing piano and Artie singing ‘Bridge,’ with people screaming and going wild, and saying to myself, ‘Well, I wrote that song.’ But it became like Artie’s song.

DH: Well, not exactly. But you did say that ‘Bridge’ had been inspired by several offbeat sources.

PS: Right. A part of it came from a country song called ‘Long Time Gone’ And that was actually the thing I had first.

DH: Then what?

PS: I was playing a lot of gospel changes around that time and I was listening to the Swan Silvertones. They’re a gospel group that works with a guitar, which is kind of unusual, but it made it easier for me to hear what they were doing. Anyhow, they have a line in a song called ‘Oh, Mary Don’t You Weep’ that goes ‘I’ll be your bridge over deep water, if you’ll trust in my name.’ It’s really just a scat line the way they use it.

DH: A country song and a gospel song. Interesting. Anything else?

PS: Another two bars came from a Bach chorale. [He hums the Bach melody.] But my version was – [He hums the phrase that begins “When tears are in your eyes…”]

DH: All of it filtered through your own perspective, of course. But what about that last verse. “Sail on, silver girl.” I’ve always wondered about that.

PS: It was actually written in the studio. And I never intended it to be in the song because, in my opinion, it doesn’t fit. It’s about my wife Peggy – who was not my wife at the time. She was starting to get prematurely grey hair. And that’s why I wrote the ‘Sail on, silver girl’ line for her.

DH: So this huge hit song has a verse that you added at the last minute, that you didn’t really want to be there?

PS: The song, as I originally wrote it, was just the first two verses. I just wanted it to be Artie, singing it with the piano accompaniment. But when we finished those two verses, it felt as though you wanted to hear more. So we decided to do a third verse. But I didn’t have any words, and I’d already said what I wanted the song to say in the first two verses. But now I had to come up with this third verse, which sounds to me like the Righteous Brothers or something like that. I mean, it fits in a record sense – it makes the record happen – but, as a song, the metaphor got ruined

DH: But the song thrived. To the tune of 25 million dollars in sales, and counting. While the two of you were peaking as an act, but coming apart as a partnership.

PS: Simon and Garfunkel had become so big it was scary. But we were still two individuals, and after a certain point, it became very hard to take criticism from each other. I used to feel, ‘I don’t have to audition my songs for anyone.’ I didn’t want to have to say to Artie, ‘Would you like to sing this song?’ I wanted to say, ‘Here’s the song; let’s do it.’

DH: But Artie obviously had a different point of view.

PS: Yeah. He felt, and rightly so, ‘If I don’t like that song, I don’t have to sing it.’

DH: Which must have created some thorny situations.

PS: Sure. We’d go through dialogues like ,‘Well, I just don’t like it.’ And I’d say, ‘How can you say that? It’s my favorite song.’ And he’d come back with, ‘Yeah, but I just don’t want to sing it.’ Stuff like that. Look at what happened with ‘Bridge.’ There were originally supposed to be twelve songs on the album. We ended up with eleven because we fought so much over what the last one should be. Finally we said, ‘Screw it. Put it out. Eleven songs.’ I was really tense.”

DH: So it’s over – Simon and Garfunkel?

PS: I don’t think Artie and I will work together again, although I’m not opposed to it, if something comes up that’s really interesting.

DH: And you feel content being on your own?

PS: I’m really happy to be by myself and not have to share the decisions. Now I do things almost entirely to my taste. That’s not to say I don’t listen to other opinions. But the new album is probably the most accurate one I’ve ever made, in the sense that it sounds the way I want it to sound.

DH: Which is, in many respects, very different from the way Simon & Garfunkel sounded. So, since we talked about the crafting of ‘Bridge,’ let me ask you about some of the tunes on “Paul Simon.” Like, for example the use of reggae rhythms on “Mother and Child Reunion?” That was pretty unusual.

PS. It didn’t seem so radical when we did it. It just seemed right. I did the track and then wrote the words. That was it.

DH: What about “Duncan,” with those Peruvian pan pipes? You’d already used them on “El Condor Pasa” on the “Bridge” album.

PS. Right. But the song, well, it was actually a whole other song when I made the track. And then I changed the words around. We did it in Paris at the same time as “Hobo’s Blues,” which we did with Stephane Grappelly, the French jazz violinist. Originally I just wanted Grappelly to play. I can’t do what Django Reinhardt did on guitar when he played with Grappelly. So we made up a chord structure and we just wound up doing this jam….I thought it had great possibilities. And if not, well, then I had a great time and I met Stephane Grappelly

DH: How about “Me and Julio?” It got a lot of airplay off the album very quickly.

PS: I had been working with some Puerto Rican musicians who were playing something called plenas. But it didn’t work. They played great stuff, but I couldn’t come up with anything. Then I noticed what the conga player, Victor Montanez, was playing. So I picked that out, made a tape loop out of it, let the loop play for three and a half minutes and wrote the song to it.

DH: Performing on your own, you’ll surely be doing songs from the new album. But what about the Simon & Garfunkel repertoire?

PS: Obviously I can’t sing songs like “The Sound of Silence,” “I Am A Rock” or “Homeward Bound.” Maybe “The Boxer.” And I might do “Bridge,” but I would feel extremely anxious about it, because I don’t have the same vocal instrument Artie does, and it’s a song so associated with his rendition.

DH: Are you nervous about going out there without someone – Artie — by your side?

PS: You know, when we performed a lot, I was never nervous. But when you lay off for two years, your situation has changed, and in the meantime your reputation puts you right up there, people can become super critical.

DH: So I guess you can’t help but be a little curious about the reaction you’re going to get, about how “super critical” your audiences are going to be.

PS: Well, yeah, I sure am. In fact, it’s a subject of tremendous interest to me.

Elements from the above interview were incorporated in the 1972 New York Times copyrighted story, ‘The View From Simon’s Bridge,” by Don Heckman

Q & A: Donald Fagen

Donald Fagen on Our Secret Society

By Devon Wendell

Recently I had the opportunity for an exclusive interview with my great friend, mentor, and former employer, Donald Fagen of Steely Dan on the influence of jazz on his life and music. Here’s the result. And don’f forget that Donald, Walter and the gang will begin their summer tour of the U.S. and Europe in June.

Devon Wendell: Do you think jazz aficionados have inborn obsessive compulsive tendencies, like if I don’t go out and find every recording that Fats Navarro ever played on, I’ll go insane?

Donald Fagen: I still have a little of that OCD donald-fagen-2jazz fan thing. Luckily, I had much better taste when I was in high school. My rigid aesthetic eliminated all but the very best composers and improvisers – Rollins, Miles, Ellington, Bird and a few others – that was it. I refused to buy Blue Note albums on the grounds that Alfred Lion forced the players on the label to write all those tunes with the funk cliches in them. Moreover, my allowance limited me to only the very best albums , so I couldn’t obsess too much. Now I have horrible taste like everybody else.

DW: The fusing of rock with different genres of jazz is part of what’s made the Steely Dan sound unique. When was the first time you felt you accomplished that distinct ‘fusion” successfully in a recording?

DF: Because Walter and I were jazz fans, we were comfortable with the harmonic language of modern jazz. On the other hand, we also liked r&b, soul music, Dylan, Laura Nyro and so on. Aside from the fact that we knew there was something amusing about overdriving a delicately balanced 13th chord through a Fender amp, I don’t think we were consciously “fusing” anything.

DW: Didn’t you get the memo sent out in 1963 that no flatted 5ths or 7ths are allowed in rock n’ roll?

DF: No. but I remember that we had to inform certain guitarists that hanging on a flat 5th – as opposed to using it as an ornament in the way that blues players do – was mega-dorky, unless, of course, your intention was a surferesque farcical effect to begin with.

DW: What was the very first jazz recording you heard?

DF: Wow. Well, my mom had a few Benny Goodman sides from 30s.

DW: I notice that when you play piano at times, you attack the keys in a very percussive manner that is visually reminiscent of Monk’s. Is that an intentional or just a physical reaction to the music?

DF: Monk sounded totally natural to me the first time I heard him. And I remember thinking, hey, he plays like a gorilla, like me, it must be okay. Later I got to watch great studio players like Artie Butler and Paul Griffin. Like Monk, they basically played at Gospel level, like Aretha Franklin – tough and loud.

DW: Did you get to see Monk perform at The Five Spot?

DF: No, but I saw him later, at the Village Gate with Charlie Rouse – fantastic.

DW: Discovering jazz at a young age, did you feel that it isolated you from other people your age, like you were part of some swinging nerdy secret society?

DF: Yes, but I used to read a lot and I was skinny and Jewish so I was already isolated.

DW: Growing up, what were some of the most memorable jazz performances you witnessed, good and bad?

DF: Charles Mingus and his demonic drummer Danny Richmond were the most exciting. I saw them a number of times, usually at the Vanguard (Max Gordon used to give me a coke and sit me near the bandstand). Maynard Ferguson’s 1961 band was monstrous. I saw Monk, Coltrane, Basie, Coleman Hawkins with Roy Eldridge, Bill Evans – all bigger than life. And one country bluesman who killed me: Mississippi John Hurt.

DW: Jazz radio certainly isn’t what it was in the 50’s. Were you a fan of The Symphony Sid show out of NYC?

DF: My favorite was Mort Fega on WEVD. By the time I was listening, Sid was going heavy on the Afro-Cuban and Latin jazz thing.

DW: Did you get to hear his final broadcast?

DF: No, but someone sent me a tape of a 1961 Christmas show where he’s totally blotto.

DW: I remember being in the studio with you during the “Two Against Nature” sessions and I was playing a Coltrane recording from his early Riverside years and you remarked; “That’s when he was playing out of tune.” Has your amazing sense of pitch made it hard to enjoy some of Coltrane’s, or say Eric Dolphy’s, music when the intonation often seemed intentionally off for thematic purposes?

DF: Not at all. Coltrane rarely played out of tune, but, in any case, it’s only on some of those Prestige records with Miles – my favorite period for Coltrane anyway. I like him best as a wild, off-center hard bop player. Eric Dolphy plays out of tune, out of time and just plain out – and it’s always perfect. I couldn’t play Eric when my mom was home, though. Or the Stones, either.

DW: So many jazz artists that I’ve encountered of all ages are die hard Steely Dan fans, a lot of whom don’t particularly like rock music. How does it feel to have had such a huge impact on the music that has influenced your life so much?

DF: Actually, I know for a fact that some jazz people still hate us. And that’s okay. My jazz purist self still hates us. As I mentioned on the phone, I met Gary Giddins the other day and I said I really liked his work.. Gary said, “You know Robert Christgau’s a really big fan of yours!”

DW: What younger jazz artists have gotten your attention over the past decade?

DF: To tell you the truth, I’m pretty out of touch. I like Chris Potter. And the guys in our horn section.

DW: Do you feel any major innovations have been made in jazz in recent years?

DF: Search me. I’m pretty lost after about 1966 or so.

DW: I remember you commenting that the musicians you and Walter hire must know bebop changes. Has finding those kinds of players become an easier process over the years?

DF: Yes. Schooled jazz players can play just about any sort of music these days. Which doesn’t necessarily mean they’re all great soloists. That’s as rare as ever.

DW: Are there certain jazz recordings that you must always have with you on the road?

DF: I have most of the records I listened to in high school on an itunes playlist.

DW: For jazz and most truly innovative music, it’s the packaging that’s added to the gestalt; art work, liner notes, photography, etc. With the digital age and downloading music, do feel this that this has been lost forever?

DF: Yes.

DW: Do you find that jazz lovers take the music too seriously and miss that sense of humor that people like Duke, Monk, Sonny Rollins, Mingus, Dizzy, and even Bird incorporated so naturally into the music?

DF: Yes.

DW: For many of the “purists”, “Smooth Jazz” is considered the nail in the coffin or something out of Revelations. How do you feel about the genre?

DF: I agree. Sirius Radio recently changed the name of their jazz station from “Pure Jazz”, which played great stuff, to “Real Jazz” which is a gagger.

DW: What’s your all time favorite Steely Dan cover by a jazz artist?

DF: I still like one of the first – “Do It Again” by Herbie Mann. Also, Joe Roccisano did some nice charts where he just used the tune as a jump off point. That’s the best way to go.

DW: Honestly, whose version of “The Goodbye Look” do you prefer, yours or Mel Torme’s?

DF: I’ve always been afraid to listen to vocal covers of my tunes. I’m scared of that “Sammy Davis Jr. sings the Bob Dylan Songbook” effect. Or, “Bob Denver reads “Howl’”. You know what I mean?

DW: I sure do. Thanks for taking the time to talk. It’s always fun to hear what you have to say.