A forum for jazz reviews, discussion of new jazz & blues music, the musicians, reviews of recent and historical releases, reviews of live performances, concerts, interviews and almost anything I find of interest.
by Ralph A. Miriello
Despite a plethora of female jazz vocalists who release
albums on any given week, rarely do I hear what I consider to be a voice that catches
my ear, a voice clearly distinguishable from a sea of pedestrian singers out
there desperately trying to gain recognition. To separate themselves from the
pack, many singers hire top name musicians or employ lush orchestrations to
give them credibility or to hide their vocal deficiencies. Along comes Kate Reid.
I have never heard of her and admit to picking up her latest cd The Heart Already Knows with a bit of skepticism.
Yes, she employed some of the most accomplished musicians to accompany her on this
outing, but instead of hiding behind their virtuosity or employing a big band with
over the top arrangements, she daringly chooses to lay herself bare, performing
in a series of duets with just her voice and either a piano or guitar accompaniment.
There is no hiding in this format. You either have the goods or you don’t. Kate
Reid’s The Heart Already Knows shows
she is the real deal. Clearly, she chose her collaborators wisely, bringing in
some of the cream of the crop to accompany her. Pianists Fred Hersch and Taylor
Eigsti or guitarists Paul Meyers, Romero Lubambo and Larry Koonse all
contribute admirably to the effort, but it is Kate Reid who shines.
Reid hails from the Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio and received her bachelor’s
degree in Jazz Studies from Western Michigan University. She continued her
education at the University of Miami where she received a masters and eventually
a Doctor of Music Arts.She moved to Los
Angeles and continued as an educator, teaching music and voice at Cypress College
also working with her own quartet around the LA area. She became a sought-after
studio and session musician lending her voice to several notable films, network
television soundtracks and commercials. She is presently a Director of Jazz
Vocal Performance and Associate Professor of jazz voice at the Frost School of
Music at her alma mater University of Miami. The woman clearly has the goods.
With such an esteemed career in the studio and academia it’s
no wonder why many of us haven’t heard of her at the national level. With her latest release, The Heart Already Knows, that should change.
Reid’s voice is smooth, sultry with a Julie London-like
intimate quality, especially in this very pared down duet format. It’s as if
she is singing to you personally. Her tone is warm, her delivery is polished,
and she modulates between notes with effortless ease.
The songs are not your usual fare, more contemporary than the
run of the mill standards from the Great American Songbook, but they have their
own charm and certainly suit her voice. She sings Strayhorn’s “Something to Live For” like
a wizened storyteller and with tender poignancy, accompanied by Paul Taylor’s nimble
guitar. Taylor’s guitar accompaniment also shines on the Ellington Blues “Just
a Lucky So and So” where Reid’s velvety voice floats on top of the melody like
a dollop of ice cream on a root beer float.
The masterful guitarist Larry Koonse’s weaves his magic on “Confessin’”
laying down the perfect backdrop for Reid to soulfully scat to the melody. Reid
also uses Koonse’s filigreed guitar work on Joni Mitchell’s “Two Grey Rooms.” Koonse
plays the chord changes on an acoustic guitar and overdubs some superb harmony
lines on a western-tinged electric guitar. Reid’s voice is clear and
impassioned by the Mitchell lyrics and at times, although her voice has a lower
timber, she almost sounds like Joni.
The pianist Fred Hersch can be heard accompanying Reid on the
haunting Billie Holiday song “No More” which she sings with her own sense of
pathos. He also accompanies Reid on a song sung by Nina Simone “If I Should Lose
You” which is done with an up tempo beat and again on Hersch’s own languid composition
“Lazin’ Around.”
The Brazilian guitarist Romero Lubambo lends his exquisite mastery
and gives Fred Hersch’s” Endless Stars” a samba beat. Reid sings the Norma Winestone
lyrics with an easy lilt. Later the two return on the Ivan Lins’ composition “Minds
of Their Own” with lyrics by producer Peter Eldridge.
Perhaps the most synergistic combination on the album is
Reid with the pianist Taylor Eigsti on the Peter Eldridge song “Busy Being Blue.”
Reid’s voice rings with a sense of
having lived the lyrics and Eigsti’s accompaniment is perceptive and lyrical. Reid’s
delivery is so natural and unforced that it draws you into the melancholy of
the song without ever becoming maudlin. Eigsti also accompanies Reid’s on the James
Taylor classic “Secret of Life.”
As Producer Peter Eldridge says in
the liner notes, the duet “…concept could either send chills down your spine or
reveal a backbone you never knew you had.” I think its safe to say that with The Heart Already Knows, vocalist Kate Reid 's backbone is alive and well.
The alto saxophonist Mike DiRubbo has been on the verge of a
breakout for some time. The now forty-eight-year-old alto saxophonist has a clean, biting sound. One is reminded of one of his mentors,
the late Jackie McLean. DiRubbo began
his musical studies on clarinet and eventually moved to his instrument of
choice, the alto, when he was twelve.A
life changing experience with the Mitchell-Ruff group while he was still in
high school convinced him that music was his life’s calling. After high school,
DiRubbo studied at McLean’s Hartt School of Music at the University of Hartford
in his home state of Connecticut. McLean saw something in the young man’s playing
that reminded him of himself. The master’s intuition has proven to be prophetic.
DiRubbo graduated from Hartt in 1992 and
after working for a couple of years with local musicians in Connecticut, he eventually
made his way to the Mecca of jazz, New York City, in 1997.
DiRubbo has sharpened his skills on the whetstone of gigging
with some of New York’s premier jazz players like Al Foster, Jimmy Cobb, Harold
Mabern, Eddie Henderson, John Hicks, Peter Washington and Carl Allen to name a
few. His hard work has paid off giving him a distinctive hard-edged sound that
both honors the tradition and launches the music into the era of modernity. The critics have noticed. DiRubbo has been a
nominee for Downbeat’s Rising Star on Alto Saxophone for the last six years
running.
He has worked extensively as a sideman on albums led by modern
artists like trombonist Steve Davis, keyboardist Brian Charette, trumpeter Jim
Rotondi and bassist Mario Pavone. The altoist has released several albums as a leader and started his own record label, Ksanti in 2011. Ksanti means “patience” in Sanskrit and with such an impressive
resume and his latest release, Mike DiRubbo Quartet Live at Smalls, that patience may finally be rewarded with the accompanying recognition that he so richly deserves.
As the title implies this is a “live’ recording, capturing the
moment of spontaneity and excitement that happens when a group is in sync and
spurred on by an appreciative audience. This release is very current having been recorded at Smalls Jazz Club in Greenwich Village in December of 2017. The group is stellar. Pianist Brian
Charette sheds his organ and synthesizers for a night of acoustic piano and the
results are impressive. The rhythm section of Ugonna Okegwo and Jonkuk Kim keep the
energy high and pulsing. Smalls, ans an
intimate, basement club that has a capacity of sixty, is the perfect venue
to listen to and appreciate a group like this. You get a chance to get upfront and personal with the band. A chance to listen and watch undistracted as DiRubbo and his group explore the possibilities
of the compositions that they play.
The music is straight-ahead post-Coltrane, hard-bop and it
is delivered with a raw edged authenticity that captures your attention. All the songs are written by DiRubbo- the one exception is John
Abercrombie’s beautiful ballad “As it Stands,” and to be fair ,“Pent-Up Steps” is
a take on Coltrane’s “Giant Steps”
From the driving opening bars of “Hope” you get the sense that this is going to be a special set of music. There is a Coltrane intensity and DiRubbo’s horn, at times almost sounds like a tenor; sharp, sometimes ragged, ripping through the
lines like a serrated knife through crusty bread.Okegwo’s pulsating bass lines
lead the way.Charette’s piano comps are thoughtful and measured and he offers a shimmering
solo of cascading notes. Drummer Kim is a bundle of cacophony that keeps the
proceedings percolating just to the brink of a boil.
“Details” uses a repeating rhythmic motif over which DiRubbo’s
alto blows, first stating the line and then exploring its modal possibilities. You
can hear the strong influence of his mentor Jackie McLean here. His notes are articulated
like short staccato stabs, often accentuated with snare drum jabs by drummer Kim. When the altoist goes off,
his cutting sound connects longer runs of notes played with a force that implies
urgency. Charette takes an inspired solo that features a flow of notes that pour from his keyboard like the water of rushing stream before setting
up for a pensive bass solo by Okewgo. As the song closes DiRubbo reaches the higher register with intense wailing
sounds that are reminiscent of some of Pharoah Sanders’ plaintive cries.
The cd continues with “A Blues.” The song has a swinging feel and each musician
takes a turn in the solo spotlight. Okewgo’s bass is strong and pulsing and Charette's musings hold your interest with an economy of notes and some nice tremolo effects.
DiRubbo’s alto is sinewy, his facility always at the ready to produce a flurry
of notes when the mood suits him, or he will dynamically leave some space when effective.
“Moving In” is a soulful,
ruminative ballad that features some of DiRubbo’s most sensitive playing. The rhythm
section holds down the waltz-like pace as the altoist is given a chance to
wander around the melody expressing a variety of ideas that all have an
emotional appeal. His horn pleading in its tone and phrasing.Okwego’s bass is robust, dancing around the rhythm
in a free-spirited prance that is loose but never loses the tempo.
“Pent-up Steps” is a derivative of Coltrane’s “Giant Steps” and
shows the group in top form. DiRubbo’s alto navigates the changes with a
slipstream ease. Gushes of sound come pouring out of his horn in deluge of
ideas, building in intensity, surging with screeching, high-register notes at
the apex of his solo. The rhythm section keeps the pace and defines the
changes. Pianist Charette artfully
offers a series of beautifully executed ascending and descending runs. Drummer
Kim, given his chance to shine, produces a polyphony of beats accented by some
shimmering cymbal work, before the group heads for the exit at the coda.
The late guitarist John Abercrombie had a way of composing endearing
music that often had a touch of introspective melancholy to it. It’s no wonder that the group rises to the occasion
and delivers one of their most memorable performances on his composition “As it
Stands.” DiRubbo’s alto is particularly moving, his tone and attack delivering
the pensive, moody feel with great insight and authentic feeling. Charette’s poignant
solo is a highlight and Okwego’s bass sings with its own sense of deeply felt emotion.
The final song of the cd is “Archangel.” DiRubbo uses the
thumping beat of Okwego’s bass, the roiling drums of Kim and the deftly placed
comp chords of Charette to go off in an intense, ‘sheets of sound’ deluge of
notes on his horn. As the record memorializes,this is a group that thrives in the intimate setting of a club like Smalls. The chemistry is potent and DiRubbo delivers a set of powerful music that relishes intensity while still leaving room for the sensitivity that a good ballad requires.
On a warm Tuesday night, at Atlanta’s beautiful Symphony
Hall, a beloved figure of American music entertained an adoring audience. The
maestro, Tony Bennett, quickly approaching his ninety-second birthday in
August, embodied what is meant by the Mack Gordon lyrics “You Make Me Feel So
Young.” Energized by the sold-out crowd, many who came to pay homage to a
lifetime of over sixty years of epic performance art, Bennett entered the stage
to a standing ovation and to the music of Michel Legrand’s marvelous “Watch
What Happens.” The place was charged. The
symbiotic relationship between the warm and humble crooner and his audience was
palpable. This exchange of energy is the very elixir that keeps the man
vibrant, relevant and endearing. He is loved and adored, and he absorbs this
tremendous outpour with rare humility and grace, which makes us love him even
more.
His voice started with a raspy, slightly gravelly tone and a
somewhat diminished range, but what he now lacks in vocal acuity he more than
makes up with in his profound understanding of how to deliver a lyric. He is a
consummate storyteller who captivates your imagination with his rich
embellishment of its meaning. Take his wonderful rendition of the Gordon
Jenkins classic “This is All I Ask.”The
lyrics now so much more relevant for a man in his nineties then when he first
sang it back in 1963 at the age of forty-three. “As I approach the prime of my
life, I find I have the time of my life, learning to enjoy at my leisure all
the simple pleasures. And so, I happily concede, this is all I ask, this is all
I need.”The audience responded with a
spontaneous round of applause as he sang these words to life.
In a conversation with Marc Meyers on his blog Jazz Wax in
2017, Bennett explained the importance of his relationship with the audience.
"I listen to the audience and feel their enthusiasm. Then I go along with that. I feel their spirit. I'm reacting to what's happening out there, and that's how the show becomes a reality. Once I know the audience is enjoying me, that they love what I'm doing, I'll do something different in response. It's almost as if we're having a conversation in the dark."
Bennett’s vitality was remarkable. Throughout the one-hour
performance he never sat once, only occasionally leaning on the piano. He walked erectly and with confidence,
occasionally circling his bandmates and pointing to them, generously sharing
the spotlight, encouraging the audience to shower his fellow musicians with
applause. The band was made up of guitarist Gray Sargent, pianist Tom Rainier,
bassist Marshall Wood and drummer Harold Jones. Since Bennett admittedly
doesn’t prepare specific endings for the songs he elects to sing, the band must
be capable of responding instantly to his flights of improvisation, which they
did for the most part seamlessly.
Bennett and company ran through the Great American Songbook,
swinging with Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm” done in double time. A master of timing
and dynamics, Bennett switched to the Ellington classic “In My Solitude,” where
he first sang with restrained aplomb. He skillfully built the tension along the
way until the coda, where he surprised many with an explosive ending that he
belted out with affirmation, much to the delight of the crowd.
He ran through the repertoire, with most songs timing in at
the radio-friendly three-minute mark. The songs included “It Amazes Me,”
“Steppin’ Out with My Baby,” “But Beautiful,” “Our Love is Here to Stay,” “My
Foolish Heart,” and “Because of You.”Bennett proceeded with a short medley that included Hank Williams “Cold,
Cold Heart,” one of his early hits “Rags to Riches” and his classic “Who Can I
Turn To,” which has long been a staple of his repertoire. The music continued
with “Just in Time” and “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” and was followed by “The
Good Life” which found the singer shouting the words “Wake Up, kiss the good
life goodbye” in a powerful display of passion and bravado. It was almost as if
he the wise nonagenarian was shaking the audience by the lapels, imploring them
to enjoy the life they have every minute of every day. His fans responded
several times during the evening to give Bennett a standing ovation. The unspoken
question in everyone’s mind was “How can this guy still do what he does at such
a high level?” The answer- It’s all about the love. The love Bennett has for
his craft, the love his audience showers on him because of his honest integrity
and warmth and the love of the music that seems eternal in its message,
especially when delivered by one of the all-time masters of the art of singing.
The program continued with “The Music Never Ends” which was
decidedly appropriate for this tireless performer. Guitarist Sargent moved
centerstage to do a moving duo with Bennett on the Johnny Mandel standard “The
Shadow of Your Smile” from the 1964 movie The
Sandpiper which had the crowd salivating for more.Bennett was warmed by the rapturous response
and so he mined some more of his treasure trove continuing with Stevie Wonder’s
“For Once in My Life” and then giving the audience what they were all waiting
for, his signature song “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” which despite his
diminishing range he pulled off with an amazing display of sheer will and
polish. Sensing his audience was peaking, the master showman continued with
“Who Cares” before finishing for the finale “Fly Me to the Moon.” His voice carrying the seventeen hundred seat
hall even without the aid of a microphone.
Bennett embraced himself in a demonstrative gesture, showing
his deep appreciation for his audience, throwing them hugs and kisses, raising
his hand upward in solidarity, basking in the adulation and was almost hesitant
to finally leave the stage. But as he has once opined, timing is an important part
of entertaining.
"Know when to get off. You can't stay out there too long. You have to be aware when you've done enough. That often happens at the high point of an audience's reaction during the evening. When I hear that moment, I often say to myself 'I can't get a stronger reaction than this.' I usually leave soon after, on that high note."
Mr. Bennett, with all due respect, you can never stay too
long in my book.
Here is one of my favorite Bennett collaborations with the great pianist Bill Evans from 1976. It's just timeless.
There have been some stellar guitar collaborations over the
years; some come to mind- Coryell and McLaughlin, Herb Ellis and Joe Pass, Jim
Hall and Pat Metheny and John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner to name just a few. The
latest duo of note is Jonathan Kreisberg and Nelson Veras as heard on their
latest release Kreisberg meets Veras.
These two are a revelation. They have a interwoven sound that is remarkably attune to each other's instincts. A collaboration that deserves further exploration.
Born in New York City, Jonathan Kreisberg studied at the
University of Miami from 1990-1994. He returned to his hometown in 1998 after
playing an assortment of musical genres mostly centered on prog-rock and jazz
fusion. He immersed himself into the more
traditional aspects of jazz guitar, eschewing his Stratocaster in favor of the rounder,
mellower sound of a Gibson hollow bodied guitar. He built up his chops finding work
with artists like drummer Lenny White, saxophonist Joel Frahm and organist Dr.
Lonnie Smith. He also formed a trio with drummer Ari Hoenig and bassist Johannes
Weidenmueller. I first caught wind of this guitarist after hearing his album Shadowless from 2010 and later his solo
album One from 2013, both excellent
outings.
Brazilian guitarist Nelson Veras is new to me. He was
apparently “discovered” by Pat Metheny when the then adolescent had moved from
his native Salvador de Bahia, Brazil to France. Veras playing is rooted in the lilting
Brazilian guitar-style of Joao Gilberto with a touch of Baden Powell’s fleet
fingering.
Kreisberg plays electric guitar and Veras plays nylon
stringed guitar so the two sounds are tonally complimentary, never clashing
with each other.“Lina Rising” is a marvelously layered composition by
Kreisberg that allows these two string-masters to dance with each other in a
delicate but swaying movement. It is thoroughly enjoyable to listen to the two
exchange vastly different ideas on the same theme.
“Until You Know” has a faint hint of gypsy-jazz guitar feel to
it. The two play synchronous lines with effortless ease. Kreisberg’s lines are
particularly fluid, complex and harmonically aggressive and Veras comps behind
him with polished aplomb. When Veras solos, his warmer sound is precise and a
bit more romantic in its approach.
The third Kresiberg original, “Every Person is a Story,” is dreamlike
gemstone. Kreisberg’s guitar is made to sound like a harp descended from heaven.
Played with exquisite sensitivity, it shimmers with a beauty that is hard not to be moved by.
The duo continues with some more familiar compositions like
Monk’s “Bye-Yah,” a twisted exchange of ideas around the quirky Monk melody.
Veras’ solo is particularly inventive with unexpected chicanery.
Milton Nasciemento’s “Milagre Dos Pleixes” is right in Veras’
wheelhouse. He sets the scene with a miniature intro of classically inspired six-string
beauty. The two guitarists latch onto the filigreed melody with some gorgeous
finger-picked lines by Veras before Kreisberg launches into a dazzling saxophone-like
solo that soars with inspiration.
Charlie Mingus’ “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat” is probably one of
the most played jazz standards in the canon and for good reason, it is a nostalgic
homage to a passed master, Lester Young. The two guitarists play it with
appropriate reverence. Veras takes the first solo and simply plays so
beautifully and with so much feeling that you can’t help but be moved. When
Kreisberg solos, he adds crescendos of notes that descend from the air-like
fresh fallen snow, lingering for just a second before evaporating into the
atmosphere.
Chick Corea’s classic “Windows,” perfect vehicle for the two
guitarists, features a quick paced and changing rhythm that is the ideal backdrop on which to improvise.
The exchange never reaches the fever pitch of say the Coryell/McLaughlin duel
on the album Spaces, but then these
two seem more content to seamlessly integrate the music of their respective
instruments into a coherent whole rather than make a show of speed for speed’s
sake.
The final cut on this fine album is an obscure Wayne Shorter
composition “Face on The Barroom Floor.” The piece is played at a slow deliberate tempo
to allow the nuances of the two guitarist’s interplay to be fully appreciated. Veras
lays down the beautiful chordal accompaniment as Kriesberg’s electric guitar
simply takes us on a flight of fantasy. Toward the end, Kriesberg introduces a modulating
electric sound on his guitar that is otherworldly, fading out at the coda like
a sighing last breadth.
Jonathan Kreisberg and Nelson Veras are two of the finest
contemporary guitarists on the scene today. Kreisberg meets Veras is an excellent guitar duo album that is destined to become a
part of every serious guitarist’s treasured musical library.
The jazz trumpeter Russell Gunn has
become an Atlanta institution since arriving here back in September of 1998. He
was born in Chicago, but he moved and was raised by his father in East St. Louis, MO. which he considers his hometown. Born in
1971, he is a child of the hip-hop era and so it's no wonder why the music of that era still
influences a part of the music he creates. He developed his chops touring with acts
like soul singer Johnnie Taylor and doing a stint playing jazz on cruise lines in the Caribbean. After being spotted by the saxophonist Oliver Lake, Gunn made his way to the capital of the jazz world-New York City-as part of Lake’s group. With his
unconventional hi-hop attire, a formidable technique and a burning desire to
create, Gunn found his talents once again recognized by another jazz luminary, Wynton Marsalis. He
was chosen to become part of Marsalis’ Blood on the Fields Orchestra where he distinguished himself as a
young lion who brought a youthful perspective to the traditional music Marsalis
was trying to preserve. He eventually became a member of the Jazz at Lincoln Center
Orchestra. In the mid to late nineteen-nineties he was enlisted by Branford
Marsalis for his crossover group Buckshot Le Fonque. Besides his work in the
jazz realm, his trumpet can be heard backing contemporary artists as diverse
a Lou Reed, Cee-Low, Maxwell and D’Angelo.
Since his first album, Young Gunn, released in 1994, he has made
fifteen recordings as a leader, two of which- Ethnomusicology Vol 1 and Ethnomusicology
Vol 2- were nominated for a Grammy.
I have personally seen Gunn play at
various music venues around Atlanta. He is a consummate musician, serious about his art. Gunn is always engaging and committed to every performance no matter what the size of the audience. Fittingly, his
group ceremoniously played the last set of music at Sam Yi’s
celebrated jazz club, Churchill Grounds, an Atlanta institution for twenty years, back on July 31, 2016.
On July 13, 2018, Russell Gunn released his latest and most ambitious project to date, his Royal Krunk Jazz
Orchestra’s album-Get it Like You Live on Ropeadope records. The album is the
culmination of a Gunn's accumulated musical acumen. On it he pursues his vision of
incorporating elements of contemporary soul, rock and hi-hop influences with the
jazz aesthetic of improvisation, all in a big-band format. Gunn whipped his nineteen-piece
orchestra into recording form during a several week residency at the jazz club St James Live
in East Atlanta. He wrote and arranged over thirty pieces of music for the band before settling on his best nine for inclusion on the recording. The album includes the voice and music of the neo-soul
singer Dionne Farris, who adds another dimension to Gunn's bevy of some of Atlanta’s finest musicians.
We caught up to Russell at his home in Atlanta via telephone on June 12, 2018
as he was between gigs touring with the bassist Marcus Miller.Notes on Jazz discussed his personal history, influences, his musical
philosophy, his recent work with the bassist Marcus Miller and his most recent album.
NOJ:You were born in Chicago and grew up in
East St.Louis Mo.When did you make that move to East St. Louis?
RG: We moved to East St. Louis in
1979. My parents got divorced so I moved with my dad.
NOJ: East St. Louis is where you
started to mature?
RG: Exactly.
NOJ: You started trumpet at the
age of ten, but I read somewhere that you were initially interested I the
drums. Is that correct?
RG: I did start to play the
trumpet at ten, but drums have always been my passion instrument. I consider
myself- I’m not a drummer- but in my heart, I’m definitely a drummer. That’s why
drummers in my band hate my ass, because it’s hard to play drums for me. Drums
have always been the foundation for everything. But that’s a little off the
point. When I was ten I wanted to play the saxophone first, because the songs
on the radio had saxophone solos, so that’s what attracted me. I was going to
play saxophone when the opportunity came up at age ten and the only reason that
I played trumpet is because my best friend at the time-we were going to play
music together-he wanted to play the trumpet he said, “Hey man why don’t you
play the trumpet.” So, I really didn’t care, I just wanted to do something
musical so that’s what happened.
NOJ: Does he still play trumpet?
RG: No. He was a soldier and he
moved that way.
NOJ: What was it like growing up
in East St. Louis for you?
RG: Man, it was great, Besides
the obvious glaring negative things about East St. Louis-especially in the eighties,
which are completely true for the most part-I mean I loved it. Of course, when
your nine or ten years old, when you’re a kid, being a kid, no matter where you
live is just fun. I still have friends for life.
High school was a little
challenging because of all the problems that East St. Louis had. There were
three high schools in East St. Louis at the time. There is only one now. I went
to the high school completely on the other side of town, because I wanted to be
in the band at that school. So that meant that I didn’t go to high school with
most of my elementary and junior high school friends.
Just like Chicago, East
St. Louis was always divided by the gangs that were local to where you lived in
the city. So, I grew up with a bunch of friends that were a certain way and
then I had to ride the bus to the high school across town which was a
completely different thing than what I had grown up with. When I look back at
it, it wasn’t that bad. It was sort of the pre-crack days, so the only problems
in East St. Louis for kids was the gang problem. Don’t get me wrong, that was a
big problem, but that was the only main problem. If you took care of yourself
and watched your back that way, if you had friends that took care of you, you’d
be ok. I had a lot of friends and we still look out for each other even to this
day. Overall, I love East St. Louis with all my heart. Outside of Atlanta, to
me there is no better place, where the quality of the people that live there is so
genuine.
NOJ: That must have been
difficult to have to go all the way across town on bus to another district,
away from your friends, so that you could pursue music. You must have been
driven by somebody or inspired by someone or just driven by yourself ? Which was
it?
RG: Well I had to go to that school
because I wanted to be in that band. There was a teacher, his name was Ron
Carter, not the famous bass player, but the band program leader. He took the
time to make sure that he gave us a place to be, gave us some outlets in music,
gave us some outlooks on life that we might not normally have been exposed to.
In those days, high school bands were still kind of good. In every city there was
a high school where the athletes go because the athletic program is really top
notch there.I went to the high school
where the music program and the track program were really the best. The high
school where I was supposed to go, East St. Louis High School, was known for
its football program. It had some of the best high school football teams in
America for a long time, they still have a great program, but I had to be in
the school with the best band. I had an older cousin who was in that band, he
was a trumpet player. He was there, he was the king. I just needed to be a part
of that.
It wasn’t easy. Trust me,
sixty-thirty every morning, me and my best friend, waiting there at the bus
stop- rain, sleet or snow-to get to the other side of town. We would leave there
after practicing, sometimes 10 or 11 pm at night, which was a real problem. That
high school was surrounded on four sides by the housing projects, it wasn’t fun
after you get out of band practice, to be from the other side and to have to
navigate that neighborhood. But it was worth it.
NOJ: What high school did you
attend?
RG: It was Lincoln High School. (This music program is famous for being where Miles Davis was a student.)
NOJ: Was their music program well
known around the area?
RG: I think the program was well known
around the world.It was really,
special. It was a straight up public high school. A straight up ghetto-ass
public high school. I only say that because the only other schools that aspiring
musicians could go to, that were really, even close to being on our level or
better than us, were like Dallas Arts Magnet High School, where Roy Hargrove
went to- that was an Arts Magnet High School. Philadelphia Performing Arts High
School, where Christian McBride, “Lil” John Roberts, Joey Defrancesco all those
kids went together was another place. Those are all Arts schools. Lincoln High
School was the only truly public school where the music program and
musicianship was even close to that caliber. It wasn’t even comparable because we didn’t have
any of the resources (that they had), so it was super special for us, and that’s
why we have so much pride to be from where we are from.
NOJ: So, your bandleader at
Lincoln, Ron Carter, was obviously an early influence and you mentioned your
older trumpet playing cousin, Anthony Wiggins,who was looked up to by everyone. Is there anybody
else that you can point to that you can say strongly influenced you to wanting
to continue this path despite all to the hardships?
RG: I must say that I didn’t
consider any of this to be a hardship at the time. Looking back on it you can
see what it was. The way I grew up, my father was a phone man. He was the guy
that you see outside climbing telephone poles, fixing your phone service. My
dad made sure we lived above our means. I didn’t have to live in an environment
where I had to worry about shit happening outside of my house.
NOJ: That’s quite a gift to give
a child.
RG: Yeah. My dad was the oldest
boy of eleven kids. They were poor. My father was poor, poor, like one pair of
pants poor, like not eating poor and he was abused by his deranged stepfather.
My father made sure that his kids wouldn’t have to deal with any of that and I
try to do the same for my children. I sometimes live way above my
means(laughing), so my kids don’t even have a hint of what it means to be that
kind of poor or even the level that I experienced when I was growing up.
To get back to your question
about early mentors, beside Mr. Carter and my older cousin, I soon became
focused on what I wanted to do and so I didn’t need anyone else to motivate me
when it came to my music. I was already going for it. I was living as if this
was what I was going to be doing right now.
NOJ: Did you get a chance to
study classical music or have classical music training?
RG: No, not at all. In East St.
Louis you could start learning music in the fourth grade, at about age ten, but
the only thing they would have is what was called musical specialists. These
were people who had basic knowledge of some instruments and they could help the
kids with basic flute, trumpet or saxophone or whatever. We didn’t have anybody
that could teach us instruments. I’m self-taught most of my friends were
eventually self-taught unless you were luck enough that your band director
played the same instrument that you were playing. Then you may have been able
to get better tutelage on the instrument, but for most of us they showed you
the basics, like how to make a sound on your instrument, but basically you had
to figure the rest out on your own.
NOJ: So, after High School, what
did you do to develop your chops? What was your training program for yourself?
RG: My training program was
sitting in a room with a cassette player, rewinding Clifford Brown all day and
all night. That’s how I learned how to play.
NOJ: Not to shabby a role model.
Clifford Brown ( photo credit unknown)
"My training program was sitting in a room with a cassette player, rewinding Clifford Brown all day and all night."
RG: That was the only way to
learn. That’s why I don’t teach, because I developed completely bad habits playing
the trumpet, because I taught myself how to play. Just now, at forty-seven
years old, am I becoming a better trumpet player because of all the on the job (training),
the hard work I had to put in to develop with no formal training. If I had been
giving the opportunity to have learned correctly when I was younger there is no
doubt I would be one hundred times better than I am now. I am just now getting
to the point where I’m able to play the trumpet comfortably without doing any
damage to myself.
NOJ: Talk about the necessity to
be able to read music.
RG: That depends on what you want
to do. What are your goals? What are your desires?Who do you want to play with? For somebody
who wants to be diverse and have multiple opportunities, being able to read is
of the utmost importance. But you don’t have to be able to read anything. There
is a saying, there are those who if you threw fly shit on a notation page and
they could read it no problem. You don’t have to read to that level to play
music. A basic understanding of reading music helps but a lot of musicians
don’t read. Some great ones don’t read at all. I played in the pop world and the
R & B world for a long time, a lot of those guys can’t read, but they are still
able to make music. Music is based on
sound, understanding sound and being able to convey sound, that is what makes
it happen.
NOJ: In previous interviews you
have credited the Russian classical composer Peter Tchaikovsky, the jazz
bassist/composer Charles Mingus and the saxophonist Benny Golson with all being
strong influences on you. They could all read and notate music. You have formed
your own big band and have been able to create your own sound and arrangements
for your ensembles. How have you been able to overcome the obvious disadvantage
you have compared to your idols?
Charles Mingus, Benny Golson and Peter Tchaikovsky
RG: Those are my favorite three,
but for different reasons. Mingus has always been one of my idols because of
the kind of person he was, in addition to his being such a great musician. Some
musicians can just be assholes and they don’t have anything to back it up. Well
Mingus was one of the greatest of all times and he was a complete asshole.
Because his only desire was for the music to be conveyed in a sincere way. One
of the problems he recognized is that when you as a conductor/composer use
musicians that play individually at a high level, the musicians often won’t
give themselves up to intent of the composer. They need to submit themselves to the will
and direction that the composer has envisioned for them. That’s why bands don’t
work out a lot of the time. They call it creative differences. Instead of just
going with the flow, believing in the composer and allowing themselves to be
directed and see what the results will be, they create disruption.
For example, I am in (the bassist)
Marcus Miller’s band and there is no time when I’m like telling him “Why don’t we try to do something like this.”
I’m there to learn from the lineage that he comes from and I ‘m a pupil of his,
even though I’m in my mid-forties, I’m in his band. I’m there to absorb what he
knows and what he has learned by being in other bands and leading his own
bands
.
NOJ: What about Tchaikovsky? What
is it about his music that is so inspiring to you?
RG: Tchaikovsky, now your talking
about my number one favorite. The man had the greatest sense of melody of
anybody that I have ever listened to. He maybe the only musician that people
are so familiar with his music that they can sing it and not even know its was
his music, like the theme to The
Nutcracker or Romeo and Juliet.
His sense of melody really opened my eyes to the concept of being an artist and
what it means to be a global artist. Art comes from everywhere. A lot of Black
musicians could never conceive that an old white Russian musician could write such
memorable melodies.If Stevie Wonder
wrote those melodies, then brothers would be fawning all over them,
acknowledging how they could see how brilliant his tunes were. But for me, it
is not just the melodies- his melodies are so strong that we all can cling to
that- but it’s also his sense of rhythm and counter-melody that made his work
so special to me. My favorite composition is the last one he did before he
killed himself, it was called Pathetique.
If the story is correct, Mr. Tchaikovsky was a gay man who was in love with the
son of a person of stature, something that society wouldn’t tolerate.
NOJ: He was heartbroken? So many
great songs seem to come from inner turmoil.
RG: Its like anything. There are
parts of our brain and parts of our insides that aren’t accessible until we get
to a certain place. It’s like taking drugs maybe, like taking LSD to access
different parts of your brain that you can’t normally access, or when
heightened emotion enters. That condition can also impact you into otherwise
inaccessible states. Like when a mother sees her child under a car and can
summon super strength to lift the car off her child.
NOJ: I have done several
interviews with notable jazz musicians over the years and I remember asking the one-time Coltrane pianist Steve Kuhn what is it that makes certain songs like “Blue & Green,”
which I have heard you deconstruct and reassemble on more than once occasion,
so durable and compelling? His answer was “Melody, melody, melody.” Some artist
eschew melody completely. What are your boundaries when it comes to melody?
"I have one simple rule. If the shit doesn’t have a melody, then it’s not a f@#king song.Melody, like beauty, is subjective to the listener."
RG: I have one simple rule. If
the shit doesn’t have a melody, then it’s not a fucking song. You can have the
greatest rhythmic motion and it can feel good rhymically, blah, blah blah. If
there is no melody, then you just have beat. Likewise, if you don’t have
something rhythmic that kind of brings it together, then it’s a little
incomplete. I think you can be complete with just the melody, but I don’t think
you can be complete in a purely rhythmic motif. Melody, like beauty, is
subjective to the listener. What constitutes a beautiful melody to one person
may not to another, and I am very aware of it. I know my opinion doesn’t matter
to everybody or is the last word. I just know if the melody doesn’t sound and
feel right then for me there is nothing there.
NOJ: As a child of the seventies
and the eighties you were experiencing the introduction of hip hop and rap
music onto the scene. What is it about these distinct genres that appeals to
you. A lot this music is predominantly driven by rhythmic, drone-like
constructions. That would seem to be contradictory to your take on melody and
yet you are known to be a pioneer in cross pollinating jazz with rap and hip
hop. Can you explain how that works?
RG: Let’s backup a bit. I come
from a time when rap was in its infancy. I think it’s important to know that
for me that was a cultural thing. It came from a cultural basis that included a
bunch of different things not just rap music. Rap music is one part of a
cultural experience that included dancing- which was break dancing-the music
part-which was DJ’-ing,- it included art -Grafitti- and included a style of
dress- the oversized drooping pants, the turned around cap- which was the way
we dressed. All those things inclusively made up that culture that we used to
call hip-hop. What they now call hip-hop is basically the rap music element
which in popular media is the least cultured part of it.
NOJ: You think they are too
profane and too centered on overt materialism? I admit to not getting the hype
around most rap.
RG: That maybe what you hear, but
that’s not it, that’s not everything. What you hear in the media, in the
mainstream is really, not what it’s all about. So, if you make a blanket
statement about condemning the music just based on what you are told, without
doing any research on your own, then your just as guilty as the people that you
are blaming for making music that appeals to a lower standard. You just can’t
generalize.
As it’s related back to me, hip
hop was a complete culture. It included all the elements-dance, DJ music,
Graffiti art and a style of dress- not just the music, the one moniker of the
culture. Yes, I am a melody guy, but hip -hop rhythm is what drives me, it
drives my insides. It’s all African music, African drums at heart. There is
test I do when I hear a beat. I always try to divide it into three and see if
it relates to the African beat.
"...to me, hip hop was a complete culture. It included all the elements-dance, DJ music, Graffiti art and a style of dress- not just the music, ..."
NOJ: You believe that rap music has
a cultural link to heritage, more based on the diaspora of the West African
drumming tradition?
RG: It all manifests itself in
different ways. As an African, an African descendant, that lives in you. It
will manifest itself in different ways. I’ll give you an example. When I was in
elementary school, when a teacher would leave the room, one of the boys would
start a beat on his desk and then the others would all join in adding their own
beats. What do you have there? You have an African drum circle manifesting
itself in East St. Louis, Missouri. Out of nowhere. Nobody knows why, it just
is. So that rhythm always finds a way to express itself. Rhythmically, what we
have today, even with the shit that we hear on today’s popular radio that we
can’t stand lyrically, underneath it all that is a rhythm that we all feel and
love in a certain way, because it’s that same inherent rhythm that is
manifesting itself.We can get past on
whatever is going on in society; boys feeling a certain way about life, about
how badly people are treated and how unfair life can be, we need to get past
that shit because that comes and goes. But that rhythm is always going to be
with you in your DNA. And that’s why my music is both of those things. I am a
melody writer, but I am pulled rhythmically from that African drumming
tradition.
NOJ: During your career you have
played with some impressive artists from Oliver Lake, to Branford Marsalis to
Wynton and the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra. Then you diverted from that
more traditional trajectory and started going on your own into hard bop,
integrating contemporary sounds into your music. Is this the direction you
expected to take?
RG: Yeah. Since in high school I
was always on that path. When I made Ethnomusicology
Vol 1 in 1998, I had already thought of that material in 1988. I just
didn’t have the musical tools to develop that stuff. I started to develop the
musical tools I needed once I moved to New York. I started to learn how to put
things together, but conceptually it had been there since the late eighties.
NOJ: Wynton is known as being a
jazz purist. Did he influence you, if at all?
RG: Now here is a beautiful
thing. Here is a beautiful lesson in musicianship. I was in Jazz at Lincoln
Center (Orchestra) before it was called Jazz at Lincoln Center It was called
the Wynton Marsalis Big Band. I was hired personally by him. You know all these
arguments that are going on now in the public eye. Wynton and I had these very
same conversations, with the same differences, twenty years ago, only they were
in private. Our differences never stopped him from having me in his band
because I spoke the language and was able to deal with what they wanted me to
deal with. We could have the most personal differences all day long, and we did,
many, many times. I was a kid coming straight out of East St. Louis onto the
scene in New York. My hair was braided, I dressed just like all the kids in the
nineties, giant ass pants, giant ass coats and shit, my nose was pierced. There
was no way you could tell the difference between me as a working musician at
Jazz at Lincoln Center and any other twenty-something walking the streets of
New York at the time. The only way you would know the difference was when I sat
down and took my trumpet out to play, and that’s the only thing that really mattered
to Wynton.
NOJ: You got nominated for two
Grammy awards and then you were dropped by your label, Atlantic at the time.
How does an artist deal with that kind of roller coaster ride and what keeps you
from just throwing your hands up, scratching your head and questioning why you
are doing this?
RG: This is what I do. I would be
a liar if I didn’t say that things like that hurt me sometimes. Of course, they
do, because it not only kind of demoralizes you but it fucks with how you make
a living. If you in the “life” (laughing) which is what I like to call it (the
life of a professional musician), then you are in it for better or worse. I
don’t teach. I don’t give lessons. I write songs and I play the trumpet and that
takes me wherever it’s going to take me right now. When I get a little older
maybe I’ll feel different. Maybe somebody will offer me something that I will
like oh shit ok.
NOJ: You just came off a tour
with bassist Marcus Miller. Was that satisfying?
RG: Man, that is completely
satisfying. For me it’s very important to be in his band right now. There are
very few opportunities like that left. To be a part of a band, especially at my
age, where I’m still in the student role and I can still learn. But to play
with someone who played with someone that I wish I could’ve have played with.
NOJ: Miles?
RG: Yeah. Bands don’t really exit
like that anymore on that level. When there is one person who has that kind of
lineage who works as much as he works. For me its very important. I don’t think
its by accident. I am a universe believer. I believe you will always be put in
situations because that’s what you asked for or that’s what you want.
NOJ: How did the connection with
Marcus happen?
Russell Gunn and Marcus Miller
RG: Man, it’s the craziest thing.
Now this is one of the weirdest things that have ever happened to me. A few
years ago, maybe a year and a half ago, my oldest sister passed away. I was in
East St. Louis, at the funeral and I was about to go inside. I was in the car
and Marcus texted me. I don’t know what he was doing, he was changing up the
band, and I had always wanted to be in his band and for whatever reason he
never called me until that day and I have been in the band ever since. Quite
honestly, right now the trumpet duties in his band are kind of split between me
and another trumpet player, Marquis Hill from Chicago. That’s how that
happened. The crazy thing is when I started to tell people I’m about to go out
on tour playing with Marcus. They all started saying “Damn man, it’s about
time.”
NOJ: It is about time that you’ve
have gotten this kind of recognition.
RG: Everything that Marcus needs
in a trumpet player, that is exactly what I am. All the Miles music, all the
contemporary music, not to say I’m a great trumpet player, but that thing -to
be in his band -is exactly what I’m about. I’m positive that my development as
a trumpet player has led me to this point, that now joining his band I am able
to give him what he needs without any kind of real tutelage. I think it works for
him it’s a really great thing. I love playing in the band.
NOJ: Who is in the band now?
RG: This band is very, very
young. He has a great young piano player named Brett Williams who will be doing
some things soon. His alto player is Alex Han. Alex was nominated for a Grammy
last year, first record, first time out of the gate. His drummer is Alex Bailey
who is a roommate of Alex Han when they were in college.
NOJ: You have one of Atlanta’s
most exciting and innovative big band, The Royal Krunk Jazz Orchestra. Tell us
the genesis of this band and where did the name Krunk come from?
RG: The Krunk Jazz Orchestra is
basically everything I have been working towards finally coming together. This
is what I’ve always been, I have always been a band leader. I’ve always written
for a larger ensemble, although I’ve never written for a big band before. But
I’ve always written for larger ensembles on most of my recordings. This was
always the direction I was going in.
The word “Krunk” is an Atlanta
word. There are a couple of definitions and I’ll give you the PG definition.
It’s when you are in a heightened excited state.
"The Krunk Jazz Orchestra is basically everything I have been working towards finally coming together. This was always the direction I was going in."
NOJ : Agitated?
RG: No, not agitated at all. It’s
a happy excitement. Like when you go to a social party and you see someone
having a really good time. You would say “Yeah, that person right there is Krunk.”
Its that sensibility, not anything negative at all.
NOJ: Is there a sexual
connotation to it?
RG: No, not at all. It’s just
being in a super excited, fun state of mind.
NOJ: Is it like being euphoric
and care free?
RG:Euphoric yeah, I guess. The name came about-
I did a record called Krunk Jazz- Bionic
- Julie Dexter was singing on it. I had her listening to some of the early cuts
and she was in a car listening when a kid came up to her car window and said,
“That sounds like some “Krunk” Jazz to me.” And that’s how the name was born.
Kids always tell the truth.
NOJ: You always wanted to be a
big band leader, even though you never studied composition or arrangement or
had the rest of that formal training. You somehow managed to find a way to
accomplish what you needed for this big band.
RG:All through trial and error. Arranging is one
thing, orchestration is whole different thing. Musical knowledge is acquired by
study, but you can learn it by trial and error, which is what I’ve done. I
hired Wes Funderburk, a local trombone player and great arranger, to write the very
first charts that I had. I arranged three or four on the record. I’m still
getting better, I’m working on my next one now. What I learn from the last one,
I’m taking to the next project.
NOJ: This debut release of the
Royal Krunk Orchestra is titled Get It How You Live, which will be released on Ropeadope Records on July 13,
2018. Tell us what you mean by the title?
RG: Its just like everything we
have been talking about. Get it How You Live is another saying, a Black saying, that has a simple meaning. To put
it in the most layman of terms it means to represent yourself how you really
are, in a genuine way.
NOJ: I would call that
authentic.I have to say, you are one of
the most authentic musicians I have ever seen. When you play you leave it all
out there. I’ve seen you explore a song like “Blue and Green” on several
occasions and you always seem to find something new to say when playing it.
What is it about a song like that, so compelling that an artist like you can
always find a thread that he can explore and make it all his own?
RG: In a small group setting,
again for me everything is just sound. In a small group setting it is even more
important to deal with the sound as opposed to doing the simple math. As a
“jazz” musician you can do simple math to play almost any of these songs just
by using mathematical equations. There is a bebop equation that you relate to the
notes in the bebop language. If you understand the math and can put air through
the instrument you can play. But everyone plays Charlie Parker ‘s music but
they don’t sound like Bird. Or they play Trane’s music, but they don’t sound
like Trane, because there is the other part to it. It comes from that other
place that we really don’t understand yet. When you get to this level, there
was a time when everything I did was based on some formulaic approach, but
that’s just maturation as a musician. Everyone matures at a different rate,
which is very important for young musicians to know.If anyone reads this, and they are frustrated,
I think it’s important for young musicians, no matter how much adoration you
may get as a youth, you must realize that the truth is most musicians don’t
fully develop until later.
NOJ: It’s also about living,
isn’t it? A musician has to "live" experiences to be able to bring those
experiences authentically into his or her music.
Russell Gunn (photo by Ralph A. Miriello)
RG: Yeah, it’s like the martial
arts, you can know all the form and clarity and you can spar and can even get
some success in achieving a black belt, but until you are there, and you have
to fight, and you really develop those instincts and that sixth sense of what
your opponent is going to do you haven’t really mastered your art.
As a musician, once you start
really playing, then you start dealing with the sounds not notes, then you and
the drummer can start to react together. Then the piano player might play
something a little out there and you may hear something that can lead you into
an area that is different then where you were thinking before. That is just a
maturation period. Trust me, I don’t consider myself to be great or even good
by any stretch of the imagination. I always felt that “jazz” musicians have
over a hundred years of recorded music to stand on, and we should be as good or
better than all of those musicians that came before us, because we have all of
that history to study and practice and hopefully go beyond.
NOJ: That’s a very ambitious goal.
Can you imagine being better than Louis Armstrong or Clifford Brown or Woody
Shaw?
RG: Well Louis Armstrong is the
greatest. But listen they were all better than people that came before them.
You’re talking about these people that learned the history and the tradition
and took it a step further. That’s what we all should be doing. We should have
mastered what they did and moved on.
NOJ: On the new album you teamed
up with the neo-soul singer Dionne Farris and worked out some of her material
with your big band. How did this collaboration come about?
Dionne Farris and Russell Gunn (photo credit unknown)
RG: I started working with Dionne
a few years ago. It was crazy. When I played in Branford’s (Marsalis) band, we
were recording, I think his second record and it might have been about the same
time she was a huge pop star and she came by the studio. I hadn’t seen her all
those years until one day she came into Churchill Grounds and was playing with
my percussionist Ali Barr. We caught up and reconnected. I was going to do a
gig at Churchill and I thought it might be nice to do a collaboration with her.
She wanted to learn and wanted to sing and get into the genre a little more. So,
we had this gig coming up, and you know, there is no doubt about how well she
can sing. She’s amazing. Just singing as a “jazz” singer is a little bit
different from what she had been doing. She wanted me to send her a bunch of
jazz songs that I thought she would be able to sing well, but hen I thought,
why don’t I take her material and arrange it in a way that we would all be
comfortable. Basically, extend across the aisle for each other and that’s what
I did and that’s how the relationship started. She’s been there ever since. She
is my go to girl.
NOJ: What’s next for you?
RG: I just got home yesterday
from a Jamaican tour and I am on my way out in the morning to Europe for about
ten days. Then I come home for a couple of days before I go back out to Europe again
with Marcus Miller for another month. Then I come home for a bit, my record
will be out by then, and hopefully we can come home and see what we can make
happen with this band.
NOJ: Are you planning on touring
with the Royal Krunk Orchestra, if not nationally then locally?
Russell Gunn and his Royal Krunk Jazz Orchestra
RG: I plan on touring with the
big band if I can, I just have to make it happen.
NOJ: That is a tough one. The
economics of touring with a big band are challenging. How many pieces are in
the band?
RG: Nineteen.
NOJ: The band includes Lee King, Curtis Watson, Daniel Harper, Ali Barr, Darren English and Melvin Jones on trumpets; Derrick Jackson, Saunders Sermons, Derrick White and Tom Gibson on trombones; Akeem Marable, Brian Hogans, Mike Walton, Jamel Mitchell, Eric Fontaine and James Robertson on Saxophones; Che Marshall on drums; Phil Davis on keyboards; Rod Harris Jr. on guitar; Tabari Lake on bass; Ali Barr on percussion; Dionne Farris and Dashill Smith on vocals; and special guest Theo Croker on trumpet on "Sybil's Blues." Composer, arranged, produced and conducted by Russell Gunn. Some Arrangements by Wes Funderburk.
NOJ: It should be happening. From
what I ‘ve heard its different and fresh and I wish you all the luck in the
world with it.
