Intuition at work

Branford Marsalis is in high gear

by Jim Macnie

Last Christmas, I got a chance to watch Branford Marsalis put the finishing touches on his latest record, Requiem. The saxophonist and his band -- bassist Eric Revis, drummer Jeff Watts -- were in the Tarrytown Music Hall, an hour or so above Manhattan. It's an old theater with a glorious wooden sound.

The group was working on material, and at one point the look on Marsalis' face signaled the frustration he was having with the dynamics of a new tune -- the music wasn't flowing as naturally as he wanted. The trio was addressing a quickly-paced eight-note phrase, and Revis was stumbling a bit with the accent.

"Work on your shit, man. Work on it," said the leader. Though it sounded like a castigation, it felt like a cheer. Marsalis is an encouraging, all-for-one kind of guy, and his advice to the bassist was advice to the group itself. Branford likes his music to be right on; he's always shooting for the unit to act in full coordination.

Requiem is titled for the passing of Kenny Kirkland, Marsalis' close pal and long-time pianist. The virtuoso improviser died while working on the project, and the loss was devastating for the leader on both personal and musical levels.

"A lot of the forms I write are somewhat strange," says Marsalis, "but I'd recently found a way to combine melodic simplicity with these crazed chord structures, and that's something I've been working toward for awhile. The language was coming back to us and we were actually pushing past it when Kenny died."

In typical Marsalis fashion, a mix of concentration and jocularity marks the Tarrytown session. The saxophonist has two different laughs: one for when they get it wrong and one for when they get it right. Prior to recording, the band spent time on the road playing the pieces. Marsalis' thinking was to tighten up the material, then cut it.

"In Seattle this shit was imploding and exploding at the same time," he chuckles. "We were way inside the songs, so it was time to record. Usually it's the other way around -- roll tape, then take it to the stage. But that really hasn't gotten us anywhere for the most part. It's like being in eternal Blue Note hell: one disc being made after the other, and nobody pushing past the periphery of the tunes."

Listening to the final version of that eight-note piece, you get an idea of what kind of loose-limbed complexity Marsalis shoots for. Between Watts' fluid aggression and Revis' limber support, it seems to move according to impulse. Marsalis says the guys originally deemed the piece "Yimple," a play on the word "simple," because it wasn't initially easy to fathom. Like several pieces on the record, it's both unbridled and taut. And when you get right down to it, that's the essence of Marsalis' esthetic.

"We'll get some things rolling, and they'll be totally out," he explains. "But there's a structure we're adhering to, and that's what makes it cool. Kenny and I knew how to go just out enough and then come back in -- we're real cognizant of form, and that gives you something to stray away from rather than just going out and staying out."

Marsalis picked up a few notions of how he wanted his music to flow from Keith Jarrett's European Quartet with Jan Garbarek. He says Jarrett's Belonging was an inspiration in the way that the melody dictates the tempo of the song. Requiem pieces such as "Lykeif" were also inspired by the highly refined motion of African drum music.

"The place where we Westerners get lost is counting," he offers. "Those drum bands don't count. The songs are a combination of rhythms, and each rhythm is its own tempo. They use hand signals or names for the rhythm, and each rhythm is the same tempo all the time. Some stuff will be playing at one tempo, and then switch to another -- it's mind-boggling. The rhythm loops until someone says, `Let's go to the next place.' It's tough to dig a rhythm that's not in a specific two-, four-, five-bar scheme. In our terms it'd be four-and-a-half, or three-and-seven-eighths. That's because there's something intuitive at work there, too. Those are the little things we're trying to get to in our band."

The Marsalis foursome reached a great rapport with 1990's Crazy People Music; it's a record that proves vehemence and frivolity can walk hand in hand. Then, in 1992, Marsalis rerouted his career to include a highly heralded stint on The Tonight Show. While other bands went on to hone their sounds, the quartet played together intermittently, when schedules allowed. Kirkland, who along with Watts followed his pal to Burbank for a stretch, was not only a popular sideman, but had his own gigs to attend to. And Branford's itinerary can be considered anything but lax. Throughout the decade, he spent time leading the panrhythmic groove ensemble Buckshot LeFonque, investigating the trio realm on a pair of remarkable records, and making a duet disc with his dad, Ellis. Last year, settling back into New York life after splitting Leno Land, he took on another commitment, becoming the Creative Consultant at Columbia Jazz. The label has provided a home for the Marsalis family musicians since brother Wynton's debut in 1982.

During our talk it becomes obvious that Marsalis laments the time spent away from his musical endeavors. He alludes to the fact that the Tonight Show gig thwarted some of his goals. "Good for career, bad for musical development" he says in synopsis.

Somehow it seems daring for a conglomerate to put an artist in charge of a label's direction, but Marsalis' business acumen isn't meager. To a degree, the imprint is merely investing in one of its most valuable holdings -- the Marsalis name. A redefinition is taking place at the imprint these days. With the major label competition of Verve, Blue Note and Warner Bros. breathing down its neck, Columbia is currently in flux. Under Marsalis' purview, the administration has signed Ulali, three Native American singers whose a cappella harmonies are applied to traditional Indian chants, as well as Sam Newsome's Global Unity ensemble. Marsalis associates Watts and keyboardist Joey Calderazzo (who has taken Kirkland's place in Branford's quartet) have also been added to the roster.

It's no revelation to this Creative Consultant that art music infrequently corresponds commerce-wise with pop. When he and Wynton first signed with the label, they made a point of looking up the sales figures for their favorite albums. Miles Davis' Nefertiti clocked in around 35,000. Marsalis laughs as he recalls that eye-opener.

"Wow -- one of the best jazz records I've ever heard, and nobody bought it. And A Love Supreme didn't go gold until the late '80s, right? So art has got its problems. I guess there were times when genius and commerce went hand in hand -- Bird With Strings would probably be like that. And even then the so-called hipsters were pissed because Bird played pop."

A recent stint at New York's Village Vanguard caught the band in high gear. The foursome work well with each other. Whether blowing fierce or lithe, there's an increased eloquence to Marsalis' music these days.

"Man, it's fun to make advances," he concludes. "When I think of older records like Renaissance and Royal Garden Blues, well, they weren't very good. But it's crazy: that was when I was at my most popular. We were playing this music and it was palatable to a lot of people outside of jazz. I was playing what I thought was cutting edge, trying my damnedest at the age of 26. But I knew I had a long way to go. And I knew that the popularity would dwindle, and that would be a way to find out if I was really, really onto something musically. When The Dark Keys came out and no one bought it, I thought `Okay, we're getting close now.' What can I say? The records I put out are as good as I can make 'em. And if people don't like it, there's nothing I can do about it. People are usually about 50 years behind the time. Go out and play the music of Charlie Parker: it ain't cutting edge anymore, it's standard stuff. So look out, in 2020 everybody's gonna be saying, `Ornette Coleman, yeah, I hear that.' And man I'll be loving it."

Wynton Marsalis will appear at the JVCJazz Festival-Newport on Sunday, August 15. See "Concert" listings for complete details.