"He did a lazy sway . . . To the tune o' those Weary Blues. " --- Langston Hughes

Photo entitled "Jazz City" (NYC, 2007) by William Ellis
William Ellis's Website
William Ellis's Blog

Jun 17, 2004

Q&A: (Greg Osby)


On the surface, the music of jazz saxophonist Greg Osby is one that could drive some listeners to the edge of insanity. It's fast, oftentimes chaotic and freely dissonant. However, underneath the technical atmosphere of those wildly flying notes lies something strikingly profound - a rather sensitive man whose musical presence slips past the radar at times and whose emotional range is frequently overwhelming.

His latest work, "Public," is a recording of the first set of an evening with Osby and a group of like-minded cohorts - among them are trumpeter Nicholas Payton and singer Joan Osborne - at Jazz Standard in New York City.

For Osby, the notion "going public" is the impetus of one's interpretation of art channeled through the craft of playing music in the company of strangers, friends and family.

There is no question, like most Osby albums, that "Public" is methodical music, the ferocity of it fitting neatly in an organized sachet of sentiment. The concept of Osby's albums come with an approach to the music that is nothing new - as seen with Ornette Coleman and his free funk and avant-garde jazz movements - but it does contain styles drawn and a sensibility established which are reflective of a special congregation of a fresh generation of players.

Even if Osby's music turns off some, its originality is startling in the manner in which he envisions a new piece or a cataloged standard. His ideas seem derived from a prism of symphonic ideas that capture his own interpretation of melody, a subtle shift in the harmony or an original bass line.

Such is the case in the cover of Gershwin's tune "Summertime" with bass notes that pull the song through the muddy thickness of varied instrumental notes - the connecting thread between the dissonant and the consonant - stretching out like a large piece of saltwater taffy pulled apart between two kids. It floats underneath Payton's solo of intricate phrases with a few licks reminiscent of the sounds of New Orleans' past.

Osby, who is a native of St. Louis, signed to Blue Note Records in 1991 and has since put out 12 records such as "St. Louis Shoes" and "Inner Circle."

Among the rhythm section, "Public" features Rodney Green on drums, Megumi Yonezawa and bassist Robert Hurst who plays with the utmost sensitivity and shows his humorous side via hints of recognizable melodies on "Visitation."

Osby is drawn to the amalgamation of the weird and the romantic, and he likes to do so with other musicians who also share an interest in obliquely related concepts opposite in nature.

Even if the listener has no idea what's going on musically, but they have the patience and discipline to sit through "Public," then chances are they may experience something more intense, wandering through the entire album for the first time.

Osborne sings on the cover "Lover Man" with an intrigue in her voice that maintains a compelling blend of necessity and autonomy. If anything, Osby and company have captured a translation of life onto a recorded live session.

The Beach Reporter sat down with Osby this week and talked about this new album, and his opinions on maintaining a balance between musical proficiency and human emotion.

The Beach Reporter: Your new album is wild.

Greg Osby: Is it? It's quite normal to me. It's actually one of my tamer recordings: another brick in the wall.

When you're playing, do you realize how fast you're moving or does it feel totally natural to you?

It's very natural. The tempo or the amount of content or the dynamics, it's all contingent upon the environment, the moment, the necessity for it. It's my response to what others in the band are doing, and hopefully, everything is appropriate and happening at the right moment at the right time for the right reasons. It's a joint effort and everybody is an equal contributor.

What do you find is the hardest thing to master in a technical sense?

Well, technique is really personal. Some people have a great deal of dexterity, a great deal of volume or flexibility so how much or how little someone has technically really depends on their capacity for expression or their need to express themselves using those particulars. Some people don't need to play fast and some people don't need to play loud. The most difficult thing for me is knowing when to edit, how to leave things out, because jazz musicians have a tendency to practice for hours a day just so they can throw in everything and the kitchen sink. The challenge then becomes what to leave out so that you still make a complete statement because some people don't think it's a done deal unless they bombard the listener with everything they know at all times and that's not necessary.

Do you feel age has helped in developing that sense of editing?

As clich/ as it sounds, yes. When you're young, you're obsessed with trying to show off and to detail everything they know with as much veracity for their fan club, their friends. In the final analysis, musicians come to realize that their friends don't buy their CDs nor do they pay to get into a lot of clubs, so you don't need to play for them. You need to play for the people who are paying and these people want to be left with a memorable performance, not being slapped upside the head with a burst of notes.

In the liner notes, you thank your band mates for 'going public.' What do you mean by that?

The term "living room musician" is a common phrase among musical circles. These musicians play at home, they practice a lot but they don't perform a great deal and even when they do it's almost like they are still practicing. They are oblivious to their audience, they are very selfish and self-serving, and their audience has to meet them and accept them for what they are. They are not about trying to accommodate people's sensibilities or their capacity to accept art. They are totally uncompromising. For me, to go public means to share this art with people who have a willingness and openness to accept it. You hone your craft in an attempt to perfect it and you then put it on display for public acceptance. Hopefully, like-minded individuals will enjoy it, it will be appealing to them and, in turn, they will be affected by it.

How do you characterize the relationship between craft and art?

There is no art without the craftsmanship. An assessment and refinement of your knowledge through your respective materials and tools develop craftsmanship. A cabinetmaker cannot make cabinets without wood, tools and knowledge of math, design and depth. There has to be some craft before jumping into the artistic foray. A lot of counterfeit artists, as I like to call them, jump into the art completely intuitively without having studied or learned anything or being an apprentice with a learned individual. You can't get to "Z" without dealing with "A" and the rest of the alphabet. A lot of people choose to skip everything and jump to "Z," and they usually have a short-lived career because they don't have enough craftsmanship to sustain any longevity.

What kind of a song do you find the most difficult to expose your emotion?

The slower tunes. When you're in that situation, you're exposed. It's what we call shaved-face playing. You can't hide behind a beard or a mustache; it's out there. It's like being at the end of a gangplank; one false move and you're overboard. Your level of emotion, expression, development, and how you characterize melody and progression - everything is out there on Front Street as we say. If you haven't practiced those things, then it's readily apparent. People can get by playing faster because it's all happening so quickly like bees in the hive and you can't really focus on any one aspect of the performance because it's just a blur. But when you slow it down, you tell if someone's tone isn't good or if they lack technique or if the sound sucks or if they aren't sensitive people. Some play ballads with such aggression that all you can imagine are them wearing wife-beaters T-shirts with a beard every day because they are not sensitive people.

That's interesting because the one thing I got out of this album is how much you're under the radar even when you are playing a lot of notes. The playing never annoyed me the way it might have if someone else played the same way.

Yes, men in life have this unyielding ability to shroud their sensitivity and think testosterone. Masculinity is associated with the project of dominance and ego to realize that you can feel for things, that you show that side of yourself as being more adult and more of a man if you can do that. I'm not saying being a wimp and crying at every drop of a dime to win brownie points with your girlfriend, that's the flip side of that. It's just being able to communicate and open to it, and that means being less of what most guys typify as being the all-American male. I like to show all facets of my personality. I've been accused in the past as being too brainy, too cerebral and too left of center; and not dealing with the soul and the swing and the bluesy aspects of the music. I firmly disagree with that, being a kid from the inner city, from the projects, who lived on welfare. You can't take that out of me. However, there are other properties of music that I like to propose as well.

You cover the Gershwin tune 'Summertime' on this album. I wanted to know how you thought of arranging the tune the way you did which is very original and one-of-a-kind?

Well, I think the first step was definitely not to mimic any kind of version that I've heard before and there have been hundreds. I feel like I put my personal stamp on it without radically altering it to the point of total unrecognition. It was difficult, as is my approach to any of those well-worn standards because there are so many things to refer to so it's difficult to establish a starting point. It came to me in rehearsal when the rest of the band went to lunch and I decided to stay behind. I played "Summertime" on my horn by myself in the lonely rehearsal hall. The reflections of the sound coming back at me kind of hit and I came up with the bass line.

Singer Joan Osborne guests on the album on the song 'Lover Man.' How did you hook with her for this work?

She was the icing on the cake. I had done several concerts with her as she has been singing with the Dead for the past year and we talked about it. I just marvel at her ability to bring so much flavor to the table. She's a great singer and I don't say rock singer, jazz-rock, country-rock, bluesy-rock or anything. She's just a great singer, a great interpreter of music, and that's the innocence, the vibration I wanted on the project. She just squeezed so much emotion out of that piece. Hey, makes me want to be a lover man (laughs).

What are your top-five desert- island records?

I don't know. I don't have a top five, but OK, well, let me give this a shot.

Duke Ellington, "Indigos"

Andrew Hill, "Judgment"

Art Tatum, "The Complete Capitol Recordings"

John Coltrane, "Live in Stockholm"

Ben Webster, "Music for Loving"

I could be here all day, all week. These by no means cover the whole arena of what I like.

No comments:

Post a Comment