Skip to main content
 
  • Recording Academy
  • GRAMMYs
  • Membership
  • Advocacy
  • MusiCares
  • GRAMMY Museum
  • Latin GRAMMYs
GRAMMYs
  • Advocacy
  • Awards
  • Membership
  • GRAMMYs
  • News
  • Governance
  • Jobs
  • Press Room
  • Events
  • Login
  • MusiCares
  • GRAMMY Museum
  • Latin GRAMMYs
  • More
    • Governance
    • Jobs
    • Press Room
    • Events
    • MusiCares
    • GRAMMY Museum
    • Latin GRAMMYs

The GRAMMYs

  • Awards
  • News
  • Recording Academy
  • More
    • Awards
    • News
    • Recording Academy

Latin GRAMMYs

MusiCares

Advocacy

  • About
  • News
  • Issues & Policy
  • Act
  • Recording Academy
  • More
    • About
    • News
    • Issues & Policy
    • Act
    • Recording Academy

Membership

  • PRODUCERS & ENGINEERS WING
  • SONGWRITERS & COMPOSERS WING
  • GRAMMY U
  • More
    • PRODUCERS & ENGINEERS WING
    • SONGWRITERS & COMPOSERS WING
    • GRAMMY U
Log In Join
  • SUBSCRIBE

See All Results
Modal Open
Subscribe Now

Subscribe to Newsletters

Be the first to find out about GRAMMY nominees, winners, important news, and events. Privacy Policy
GRAMMY Museum
Membership

Join us on Social

  • Recording Academy
    • The Recording Academy: Facebook
    • The Recording Academy: Twitter
    • The Recording Academy: Instagram
    • The Recording Academy: YouTube
  • GRAMMYs
    • GRAMMYs: Facebook
    • GRAMMYs: Twitter
    • GRAMMYs: Instagram
    • GRAMMYs: YouTube
  • Latin GRAMMYs
    • Latin GRAMMYs: Facebook
    • Latin GRAMMYs: Twitter
    • Latin GRAMMYs: Instagram
    • Latin GRAMMYs: YouTube
  • GRAMMY Museum
    • GRAMMY Museum: Facebook
    • GRAMMY Museum: Twitter
    • GRAMMY Museum: Instagram
    • GRAMMY Museum: YouTube
  • MusiCares
    • MusiCares: Facebook
    • MusiCares: Twitter
    • MusiCares: Instagram
  • Advocacy
    • Advocacy: Facebook
    • Advocacy: Twitter
  • Membership
    • Membership: Facebook
    • Membership: Twitter
    • Membership: Instagram
    • Membership: Youtube

GRAMMYs

GRAMMYs

  • Awards
Paul Winter

Paul Winter

Photo: Bill Ellzey

News
Paul Winter Talks New Album, 'Light Of The Sun' paul-winter-interview-light-sun

Paul Winter On How His New Album, 'Light Of The Sun,' Starts A New Path In His 60-year Recording Career

Facebook Twitter Email
Over the decades, the 81-year-old, GRAMMY-winning soprano saxophonist swerved around rock 'n' roll, embraced whale songs and so much more. 'Light Of The Sun' encapsulates his contemplative, meditative vibe
Pamela Chelin
GRAMMYs
Dec 30, 2020 - 8:45 am

When the soprano saxophonist, composer, and bandleader Paul Winter gazes at the night sky, he's not just looking for the Man on the Moon. Not only did Apollo 15 astronauts name two craters after his songs ("Icarus" and "Ghost Beads"), but they left a cassette copy of Road, a 1970 live album by Winter's longtime band The Paul Winter Consort, on the moon. "When I look up at the moon at night, and I remember that story, sometimes I don't quite get it," Winter tells GRAMMY.com over the phone from his farm in Connecticut. "'I think, 'No, that's not possible.' But they said they left the cassette up there, so I've told friends, 'When you go to the moon, take a cassette player and see if you can find my cassette.'"

Winter, who's won six GRAMMYs as an artist, may have turned 81 this year, but he shows no signs of slowing down. In fact, the 81-year-old's latest release, Light Of The Sun, released last month (Nov. 13) via Living Music, starts a new path in his 60-year recording career. It's the first time Winter is the featured soloist after decades of assuming the role of bandleader and involving numerous collaborators in his recordings. "It's something I'd dreamed about doing for a long, long time," he says. "When I turned 80, I thought, 'This is as good a time as any to do it.' It was great fun to focus on my playing. It's been a great labor of love, and I consider this my testament as a sax player, but I don't mean to imply it's my last one. I'd like it to be my first one."

Light Of The Sun embraces Winter's lifelong fascination with the sun. (Some of his previous album titles include Sun Singer, Journey With the Sun, Morning Sun, and Everybody Under the Sun.). "The idea was to try to see if the feeling of the sun, the sunlight, could be transmuted into music the way sunlight transmutes chlorophyll giving life to all the plants," he says. "I've long been fascinated with the sun and the ways that we experience it. It's the source of our life. All life on Earth comes from the sun, and it's just a tremendous factor in our lives that we don't think about too much."  

To Winter, the sun also symbolizes hope, kindness, love, serenity, and optimism. As Winter's soprano sax takes front and center, winding prominently through the record, the 15 compositions are as celebratory as they are soothing. At times, the music sounds uplifting, like a morning prayer. At others, the soothing music sounds like the perfect companion to a relaxing glass of wine at the end of the day. A welcome antidote to a dark and stressful year, Light Of The Sun offers a delightful musical reprieve from 2020's turmoil.

To best capture his sound, Winter utilized wide open spaces to allow for the most robust musical resonance and reverberation, recording in three unique locations: the Miho Museum in Japan; the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York and the Grand Canyon. He first discovered the powerful acoustics inside the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in 1968 during Duke Ellington's funeral service, where Ella Fitzgerald sang, and musicians from Ellington's orchestra played in honor of the jazz composer and bandleader. Since 1980, Winter's been the artist-in-residence at the historic cathedral, where he's held winter solstice celebrations for forty years. 

Growing up in Altoona, Pennsylvania, Winter switched from clarinet to saxophone after falling in love with big band music when he was seven years old. "It was in the 1940s and the big band era," he says. "I loved that music more than anything, and to have a whole genre of music very much in the air and alive in our culture to inspire me then was exciting." Luckily for Winter, his grandfather owned a music store, making it easy to get a saxophone.

By the time he was 12, Winter had a group in the vein of German drinking bands. He played churches, the local YMCA, and the rotary club. His mom was his roadie. "It was great fun, and people loved seeing these kids play this happy, wacky music and telling jokes that were very corny, of course, but all the funnier because we were only twelve," Winter says. He received his first payday when, one night, he made 50 cents after a performance. "When you were twelve in 1951, that was big money," he says. 

A couple of years later, his band morphed into a 9-piece dance band, playing Great American Songbook standards. "That music is so timeless," he says. "That shaped my aesthetic a lot." While enrolled as a Northwestern University student, Winter formed the Paul Winter Sextet, incorporating bebop music. In 1961, they won an intercollegiate competition judged by jazz virtuoso Dizzy Gillespie and record producer and talent scout John Hammond, who had discovered Aretha Franklin and signed Bob Dylan. Hammond promptly signed Winter to Columbia Records. "It was astounding; I'd never dreamed of anything like that," Winter says.

Unfortunately, Winter says that because jazz was an underground phenomenon, there was nowhere to play publicly. Sitting around his apartment with nothing to do, he decided to write to the U.S. Department of State, asking to be sent on a goodwill tour of Latin America. 

"We were perfectly integrated with three Blacks and three whites at a time early in the Kennedy years when civil rights were the burning issue, and I was extremely interested in cultural exchange," he says. Winter didn't expect a response to his letter, but a few months later, his request was granted. For six months, the Paul Winter Sextet toured Latin America, played concerts in 23 countries, and received steady pay. He recalls the joy he derived when he performed for 5,000 barefoot villagers in Bolivia: "They had no experience with what we were doing, but they loved it because it was rhythmic, and in the warm countries, people like to move."

When they returned from their tour, the band decided to move to New York to try their luck. But though their tour of Latin America was a success, there was still no work to be had and nowhere to play live. Winter considered going to the University of Virginia law school, whose acceptance he had deferred for a year. By then, the Paul Winter Sextet had put out two records, 1961's The Paul Winter Sextet—which only came out in Latin America—and 1962's Jazz Meets the Bossa Nova, which became a minor hit, selling 30,000 copies.

Fortuitously, the band got to play an unusual and unlikely venue. As part of Jackie Kennedy's Concerts for Young People By Young People initiative, the Paul Winter Sextet was the first-ever jazz group invited to perform at the White House in 1962. When they arrived, the First Lady told Winter that she'd been listening to Jazz Meets the Bossa Nova nonstop for three weeks. As President John F. Kennedy worked down the hall nearby, Mrs. Kennedy watched the performance, along with a room filled with children and reporters. The following day, according to Winter, the news headlines read, "Jackie Loves Jazz." With his moment in the spotlight, Winter got work touring clubs around the country. But he didn't like it. "In nightclubs, you were almost a liquor salesman, there to entertain people so they would drink more, and the acoustics were bad."

Soon after, Winter broke up the jazz ensemble and lived in Brazil for a year. Playing with Brazilian musicians planted the seeds for his next musical pursuit. In 1967, Winter formed the Paul Winter Consort, combining jazz, world and classical music, and nature sounds. A few years later, he signed with Albert Grossman, who managed Dylan, Peter, Paul, and Mary, the Band, and other luminaries. But the Paul Winter Consort didn't fit into an apparent musical genre, making it hard to break through to an audience despite having released three records. "Record stores didn't know whether to put it in classical, jazz, or folk, so they put it nowhere," Winter says. 

To attract a large audience to the band, manager Bennett Glotzer introduced Winter to the Beatles' famed producer George Martin. Martin played oboe and had a deep grounding in classical and instrumental music. "George agreed to have lunch with me, and we hit it off so well," Winter says. With Martin at the producing helm, the Paul Winter Consort spent three weeks recording in the coastal town of Marblehead, Massachusetts, in 1971. They released the resulting Icarus to critical acclaim in 1972. 

That's when Winter became renowned as a pioneer of new-age music, which makes him laugh. "It's a joke," he says. He explains that the new age classification was given to him by the record industry when electric music dominated the music scene. Many perceived acoustic music to aid meditative purposes and alternative therapeutics. The simple tag of "new age" positioned the Paul Winter Consort's genre-evading records in record store aisles and awards categories.

While the Paul Winter Consort never fit neatly into one musical category, there is a specific music genre of which Winter's never really been a fan; rock music. So it was ironic when Winter found himself on bills in the seventies with rockers like Procol Harum, Spirit, and Bruce Springsteen. The latter opened for Winter at a gig in 1973. The Boss's friendliness and his extreme confidence struck Winter, but he watched just a small portion of Springsteen's set. "When he started talking about New Jersey, David Darling and I said, 'OK, let's go out for dinner,'" he deadpans.

Nature's music was more Winter's speed, and he had first fallen in love with it when he heard humpback whales in 1968. The yearning quality in whales' songs enamored him, which led to his fascination with other wild animals' sounds. For instance, wolves' howls express what Winter calls "the universal blues." Since the 1970s, Winter has been incorporating what he calls "the symphony of the earth" into his music. He's currently working on a new recording project, recording Indigenous peoples' music in fifteen countries situated along the African-Eurasian flyway, to raise support and awareness for migratory birds, including storks and cranes, who need protection.

As humble as he is hard-working, Winter doesn't display any of his six GRAMMYs on his mantle, preferring to keep some of them in boxes in his barn. He gave several of them away. "I don't think it's healthy to keep awards around. It gives you an illusion that you've accomplished something," he says. "For me, it's always what I'm doing next." He's even reluctant to take credit for his success, continually attributing it to good fortune. "I think if one realizes any dreams in their lifetime, they're lucky, and I've had a huge abundance of luck," he says.

Though he hasn't had the same level of success as some of his contemporaries, Winter says he wouldn't want it because it often comes at a cost. "I think something happens when you have huge success," he says. "Once you become used to the fame and the adulation and the entourage, it seems like often people lose their muse, that the thing that originally propelled them toward resting whatever they did that reached a wide audience and their output ends. They can still perform, but their music is no longer full of magic. There's a certain amount of humility and creative aspiration that is needed." 

"Of course, I can't be critical of people who had great success," he adds. "They earned it. It's remarkable how the adventures that it afforded them, but it's very hard to find people who reach that level who still have their original values intact."

He points to acclaimed folk singer Pete Seeger as a rarity who never lost his integrity. Winter first heard Seeger's music when Hammond took him to a Carnegie Hall concert in 1963. "It was like a revelation hearing a voice that seemed very real to me," he says. "It didn't sound like a pop music voice where you feel somebody's trying to sell you something. And he spoke about [authentic] things in the world. I had never been allured to listen to folk music. That was the big turning point for me." Three years later, the pair met at the Newport Folk Festival, where they bonded and became close friends. (Winter later produced Seeger's album Pete, which won a GRAMMY for Best Traditional Folk Album in 1996.)

Though Winter has endured his fair share of ups and downs in the music industry, he says he wouldn't have it any other way. To him, it's been more critical to stay true to his musical vision. He says that music, for which his appreciation grows more profound with each passing year, has been a "magic carpet," allowing him to travel to places he'd otherwise not have gone and to meet people, including his wife, he'd otherwise not have met. The couple has two daughters.

"I can't say our path has been easy," Winter says. "But it's been profoundly gratifying because I've always been able to keep somehow making the music I love, and I didn't have to try to fabricate something that would be more commercial. I've come to appreciate the challenges. You don't grow without challenge, so there's been no shortage of that for me."

New Age Pioneer Laraaji On The Healing Potential Of 'Sun Piano'

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
Harry Chapin

Harry Chapin

Photo: Courtesy of artist

News
Rick Korn & Jason Chapin's Revisit Harry Chapin harry-chapin-when-doubt-do-something-filmmakers-rick-korn-jason-chapin-revisit

'Harry Chapin: When In Doubt, Do Something' Filmmakers Rick Korn & Jason Chapin Revisit Singer/Activist's Legacy At A Vital Time

Facebook Twitter Email
The new documentary looks at the life of the late GRAMMY-nominated folk singer and how his message of hope and making a difference resonates so strongly today
Ana Monroy Yglesias
GRAMMYs
Oct 21, 2020 - 3:40 pm

In 1972, not long after signing to Elektra, a 29-year-old folk singer/songwriter named Harry Chapin released his debut album, Heads & Tales, spawning the hit single "Taxi." Later that year, he'd release his sophomore album, Sniper & Other Love Songs, and receive his first GRAMMY nomination, for Best New Artist at the 15th GRAMMY Awards.

Just two years later, in 1974, the Brooklynite released his fourth album, Verities & Balderdash, along with his most well-known song and only No. 1, the deeply moving "Cat's in the Cradle." The memorable track also brought his second GRAMMY nomination, for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance at the 17th GRAMMY Awards.

Almost as quickly as Chapin rose to global fame, he began using his platform to make a difference in the world. With nudging and support from his wife Sandy Chapin, he and radio DJ Bill Ayers founded WhyHunger in 1975 to address the root causes of food insecurity and poverty. The "Shooting Star" singer, who died at just 38 in car accident, would spend the rest of his time on earth hosting and playing benefit concerts, mentoring rising artists, advocating in D.C. and raising money and awareness to fight hunger.

Now, with the release of Harry Chapin: When In Doubt, Do Something on Oct. 16, World Food Day, viewers get a deep dive into the inspirational man behind the music, along with the message that one person really can move make a difference when they put their mind to it. We recently spoke to the documentary's director, Rick Korn, and co-producer/Harry Chapin's stepson, Jason Chapin, about the film, what the great folk artist's legacy means to them and much more.

Watch: History Of: The World-Famous Troubadour In West Hollywood

Harry Chapin, When In Doubt, Do Something comes out soon, on October 16. What messages do you hope viewers will get from watching it?

Korn: Well, there are two messages with Harry's story. The most important thing is about his activism, his music, his way to really inspire generations of music artists, of people like myself. I think the most important thing for people to get out of this is it's a break from the craziness of what's going on in the world around us, it's a 93-minute escape into Harry's world, which is just so entertaining and inspiring. I hope that people look at it from that perspective. I know people that have seen the film have walked away from it thoroughly entertained and thoroughly inspired. That's what we hope people get out of the film.

Chapin: I'll add that my father's been gone for a long time, but over his 10-year career, he accomplished a lot musically. His music continues to be listened to by younger generations, which is great, but the humanitarian side, starting WhyHunger in 1975 and Long Island Cares in 1980 and being involved in a lot of other important causes and organizations, is also big. It's amazing that those organizations have grown so much and continue to help, literally, hundreds of thousands of people each year. If you think about today, hunger and poverty is a much bigger issue now, but, fortunately, because of my father's work and many organizations fighting against it, there's a lot being done.

The takeaway, I'm hoping, for those that see the movie, is that it's one individual who was motivated to do something, who inspired many others to continue to support what he did, but they also are doing great things on their own. It's really inspirational to know that one person can make a difference.

Related: Darius Rucker To Receive Harry Chapin Humanitarian Award At Music Biz 2019

I feel like that answers this question a bit, but I still want to ask it this way. Why did you decide to make a documentary about Harry Chapin?

Korn: Harry was unique in a lot of different ways, and if this was a story about another music artist that focused on their vices and the destruction of their lives, we would not have been interested in making the film. What interests us about Harry is his prolific creativity and his ability to literally move people, to save people. What really blew our minds when we did our research on Harry was he was so incredibly effective in fighting for the underdog.

He could write a protest song and you can do a benefit concert, but Harry was more than that. He literally got his hands dirty doing the work, and figured out what the root causes of hunger and poverty are and attacked them in every way. He spent a good portion of the most vital 10 years of his life just trying to help people, and that is unique in the world, particularly in the world today. That's why we made the film. We made the film because I think the world needs a little bit of Harry today.

Chapin: One thing I'll add, maybe it's not known to a lot of people, but my father was a successful filmmaker before he became a successful musician. I think film helped him really understand stories better and made him a much better songwriter. It's also just amazing, so many years later, when Rick and S.A. Baron [who co-produced the film with Korn and Chapin] asked if we would be interested in a documentary, it was special to me because there had never been interest in a film about him. They saw a different subject matter that others didn't.

Also, it's just the right time, because there's so much going on that my father was passionate about and committed to, and, as Rick said, there's so much negativity out there, but this is the right film at the right time.

Why do you feel like it's so important to share this story and these messages now?

Korn: I don't want to say we rushed it because we didn't, but we really worked hard getting this film out now because of all the divisiveness in the world. Harry's story is unique from any other music artist because he really inspired a generation of music artists. You look at Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel, Bob Geldof and Ken Kragen, all these people that created Live Aid and "We Are the World"/U.S.A for Africa and Hands Across America. Harry inspired these people in that way, and his music, on top of that, was just so moving and so incredible.

I want to follow up on something that Jason said about him being a filmmaker. One of the things that surprised me when we did our research, was that he was a filmmaker, and not only that, but an Academy Award-nominated filmmaker and documentarian, but we learned that was the way Harry wrote songs. It's very similar to the way a director writes a film. His songs are these mini movies. His storytelling feels like you're the character, one of those two people in the taxi in the song, "Taxi." And you always feel like the parent in "Cat's in the Cradle." He and Sandy just had a way of making songs that you find yourself in, and that's the brilliant part of his songwriting.

Explore: It's The One: 45 Years Of Bruce Springsteen's 'Born To Run'

Do you have a favorite story or anecdote from any of the artists you talked to while making the film?

Chapin: I was at the Billy Joel interview and he told us a lot of things that I didn't know. I learned that he opened for my father and years later, my father opened for him, and they had a nice friendship, and supported each other. And Billy Joel started talking about how people would think that "Piano Man" was written by my father, and he really loved the way my father wrote songs, and he was describing how much he loved the song "Taxi" and how it gave him goosebumps. And then he was talking about my father as a humanitarian, and he called him a saint. I think that was probably my favorite experience with this whole project.

Korn: Yeah, the Billy Joel interview was certainly a great one because I didn't realize how close Billy and Harry were, just on a human level. The reason for that, I think, was the fact that Harry treated everyone like your kid brother. The fact that he would support Billy, which was so rare in the music business then, and even now, it just broke down whatever barrier or competition they normally would have with each other. That surprised me.

My favorite interview—there's so many, because after each interview, you love everybody that you interviewed because they loved Harry. You can't make a movie just with that one interview, but the two that stand out for me is DMC [a.k.a. Darryl McDaniels of Run-DMC], because he taught us something we didn't know about, how he did "Cat's in the Cradle" [on 2006's "Just Like Me" with Sarah McLachlan] and they were one of the first rap groups. The fact that Harry was considered cool in the early days of hip-hop music blew my mind. He's a great guy. He's done so much for WhyHunger over the years, and he's just a really genuine guy, so I really loved that interview.

I have to say that the most entertaining interview for me that maybe I've ever done was Sir Bob Geldof, which ended up being a two-and-a-half-hour interview when my average interview is about 45 minutes. I literally asked two questions in the entire interview. He just went on and on and on. He would come back and say something about Harry, but then he would go on.

They all loved Harry. Harry changed their lives, just as he did mine. Harry came to my high school in 1974. Everyone in the school, teachers, coaches, janitor, everyone came into the auditorium, and he came running in and played for two and a half hours and talked about hunger and poverty, and it was the greatest lecture you ever went to in your life. It was inspirational.

Read: From Aretha Franklin To Public Enemy, Here's How Artists Have Amplified Social Justice Movements Through Music

What does his legacy mean to you?

Chapin: When I think of his legacy, I think of all the people that my father looked up to, and one of them was Pete Seeger, and I think he saw that Pete was doing great things over many years. He was completely selfless and hugely impactful. As I look at my father's legacy, it's the fact that so many fans can tell stories about meeting him after a concert in the lobby, so many fans talk about how they shared his music with their kids, and now grandkids, and the fact that he started these organizations and that continued to grow and help more people each year.

I think the overall, in terms of his legacy—he even says in the film that he wanted to matter. That's another way of saying he didn't want to be forgotten. The fact that people are still talking about him, people are still inspired by him is just amazing.

Korn: I'd like to tag on to that. When I think of Harry's legacy, obviously he was a great songwriter. Music is important, and his music is important, but when I think of Harry's legacy, I think of what is going on right now with this pandemic and the fact that what he and [N.Y.C. radio DJ] Bill Ayres and Sandy Chapin created in 1975—and Sandy and Bill are still at it—is still saving lives today. That is a legacy that is larger than life.

Can you talk a little more about WhyHunger's work and why specifically the issue of access to healthy food was so important to Harry?

Chapin: I think what's important to understand is that it was my mother who really nudged my father and said, "You should get involved in more things, not just do music." My father was interviewed by Bill Ayres on his radio show, "On This Rock," and they had instant chemistry. They started talking, with my mother at some of their meetings, they decided that they wanted to focus on something that would really have a big impact on a lot of people. They did a lot of research. They talked to a lot of experts, and they realized hunger and poverty was at the root of all of our issues, and if they tackled that, that could solve so many of our problems. They continued to educate themselves and talk to experts. They spent a lot of time down in D.C. talking to legislators, and they were really committed to being knowledgeable and informed and getting other people to understand.

I think what my father knew is that if you tackle hunger and poverty, you're also tackling social injustice, you're tackling women's issues, you're tackling racial issues, you're tackling so many root issues, and so I think it was very insightful for them to talk about that. It wasn't just about giving people food.

My father was very into being self-sufficient, so he wanted people to have access to education and work to become self-sufficient. At the same time, I think he wanted people to understand that people don't choose to be hungry or poor, that there were certain policies that were put upon them that created a lot of the problems, a lot of the barriers that they faced.           

I think it's also important to say that the fact that we still have a problem doesn't mean that we're losing the war. It just means that there are more people that need to get involved in order to solve the problem. WhyHunger's job is not to solve the problem, it's to help other people it, so it's a very grassroots focus. They do a lot of work with groups around the country and internationally to help support what they're doing and connect them to other organizations so that they can realize their potential and do even more great work.



View this post on Instagram


Join us tonight for a very special Docu-Concert to inspire us all to DO SOMETHING AND VOTE! Harry Chapin is the original reason I love folk music. I listened to “Cats in the Cradle” on repeat as a kid. Very surreal to be a part of this event with him and more of my heroes @springsteen @blackpumas @kebmomusic @alabama_shakes @theheadandtheheart and @derekandsusan ! We’ll be raising money today for many nonprofits including @return2heart ! Tune in tonight (link in bio!)!

A post shared by RAYE ZARAGOZA (@rayezaragoza) on Oct 20, 2020 at 11:27am PDT

What do you each see as the connection between art and service?

Korn: Art is service in a certain way. We have a livestream docu-concert coming out called Do Something and there's an artist participating by the name of Raye Zaragoza. Raye is a young artist/activist. She's Native American and she's all about the environment and has devoted her life to it. She doesn't just write the songs. An artist/activist is someone, in my opinion, who doesn't just write and perform great music, but as Harry taught us, they get their hands dirty.

If you care about the pipeline going through South Dakota and the reservations, you're going to go to protests. You're in Washington. You're writing motivational songs. It doesn't mean you have to write motivational songs, because Harry didn't have many protest songs, but he understood his nature and human feelings and empathy, and he had tremendous empathy. I think that's the connection, that's what makes an artist an artist/activist.

Chapin: Yeah, and my father and my uncle Tom [Chapin] did a lot of benefit concerts, and I know they had a lot of conversations. My father was always fascinated with Pete Seeger's philosophy about being an activist, getting involved, and he said it was because he got to work with great people, people who were very passionate and committed. My father and Pete Seeger and others, I think they were getting more out of the experience than they were giving to the experience, and it made their lives richer.

My father, he spent a lot of time in high schools, middle schools and colleges talking to young people. He always felt that young people were the future, and he wanted to know what they cared about, what they were interested in doing, and to encourage them to get involved. It didn't have to be hunger and poverty, but just get involved, to commit to something. It was all about letting them know that they could make a difference.

Lastly, a lot of musicians, I think, tend to be a little bit self-centered, but my father was very generous when it came to other musicians. He used to do these songwriting workshops where he would spend time with a group of up-and-coming musicians, those who wanted to learn more about songwriting and composing music. My father had these regular meetings with different musicians on Long Island. I think the musicians who attended really enjoyed the experience of learning from my father, but my father also enjoyed the experience of hearing what they were thinking and collaborating with them. I think that was also very rewarding for him.

Read: From Chicago To Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Here's Who Was Honored At The 2020 GRAMMY Salute To Music Legends

It becomes so much more than the artist saying, "I care about this, you should too." When it's like, "I really care about this. What do you care about?" it feels different.

Chapin: Yeah. I think it's a beautiful community when musicians collaborate and they do things together. I think that really attracted my father's interest, he just loved other communities, whether it was other artists or not. He was really into a lot of intellectual stuff. He did a lot of reading. He was intellectually very curious, and I think he also liked learning from other people and finding out what motivated them and what inspired them. I think that gave him a lot of, I don't know, excitement just to be around people who were very eager and action-oriented.

Do you think art can change the world?

Korn: You know, I think that music is, by its very nature, a healer. I'm not saying it can cure cancer, but it can help cure cancer. Maybe that's an overstatement. I just mean it that it's got that power. People get moved by music. I was working with a gentleman by the name of Carl Perkins, who wrote the song, "Blue Suede Shoes." We were flying over to London [in 1997] to do a benefit concert with Paul McCartney and Eric Clapton and a bunch of people, and for the island of Montserrat after a volcano eruption. I asked, "Why is it that it seems like music artists are always the first ones to jump in and do benefit concerts?"

Carl's response was, "Did you ever meet a great songwriter that didn't grow up poor or have some sort of difficulties in their life? They just tend to be more empathetic towards the common man. They write about it." From that standpoint, I don't know if they can save the world, but I think Harry in a lot of ways has saved lives, and I guess that's your answer. [Chuckles.]

Chapin: Yeah, that was well said, Rick. I can't think of anything else that brings people together more than music. It's a universal thing, and once you bring people together and there's somebody who plants a seed as to something they should all work toward or work on together, then anything is possible. We know, going back decades, whether it was Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger, the Beatles and their Concert for Bangladesh, or Live Aid or "We Are the World," we know when groups come together, anything is possible. They may not be solving all the world's problems, but they can certainly make a huge difference.

It's so true. I have to share, my dad grew up in Brooklyn Heights and went to Grace Church, so he knew all the Chapins. The first concert I ever went to was Tom Chapin—my dad took us to his shows all the time when we were kids.

Chapin: I'm so glad you shared that because that's where everything happened, at Grace Church. That's where my uncles Tom and Steve were in the choir. My father was a little older, so he wasn't as involved, but that's also where they met Robert Lamm from Chicago. John Wallace was also a member of the choir, and he ended up being a key part of my father's band. That was such a magical time back then, because there were so many musicians and they would all go into Manhattan and play at the different clubs and community events. Everybody wanted to be a musician or go listen to musicians. Brooklyn now is still—that's the hot borough in New York City. That's where the musicians want to live, and that's where they want to perform. It's a fabulous tradition.

Great to hear that you've been to some of my uncle Tom's shows. I don't know if you're aware, but my father had two GRAMMY nominations, but Tom won three GRAMMYs, so that's fun family history.

Beat By Beat: How "Song Exploder" Unlocks The Intimacy Of Music And Creativity

Nubya Garcia

Nubya Garcia

Photo: Adama Jalloh

News
Meet Rising London Jazz Star Nubya Garcia nubya-garcia-interview-source-london-jazz

Meet Nubya Garcia: The Rising Star Taking The London Jazz Scene By Storm Talks Debut Album 'Source'

Facebook Twitter Email
The emerging artist tells GRAMMY.com about how her first solo album explores identity and community, how the sounds from her multicultural roots left a "life-changing" impact on her and why she thinks livestreams will never replace live music
Hugh Morris
GRAMMYs
Aug 23, 2020 - 4:00 am

In clubs around Britain, a loud, colorful revival is happening. Shaped by artists like Soweto Kinch, Shabaka Hutchings and impresario Gilles Peterson, the blossoming U.K. jazz scene, propelled by a welcoming attitude to genre and a celebration of diversity, is bringing a healthy challenge to jazz's long-running U.S. focus. 

In the middle of London's vibrant scene sits Nubya Garcia, a saxophonist and composer who has a hand in many of the next wave of U.K. jazz outfits. You can find her in Nerija, the female-led septet now signed to the Domino label. She changes tack in Maisha, an outfit contributing to the history of spiritual jazz. It's telling of her pivotal place in the scene that Garcia's lucid sax lines appeared on over half of the tracks on the era-defining We Out Here, the 2018 compilation album spotlighting London's rising jazz scene.

Garcia now follows two successful EPs, Nubya's 5ive (2017) and When We Are (2018), with her first album, Source, released Friday (Aug. 21) on Concord Jazz. But even on this debut solo release, the temptation to hog the limelight is never satisfied. Despite being imbued with questions of personal identity and roots, Source truly feels like a group effort. Appearances from Nerija bandmates Cassie Kinoshi and Sheila Maurice-Grey as well as versatile pianist Joe Armon-Jones only add to this feeling. This community-driven scene behind Source creates a uniquely cosmopolitan sound as Caribbean flavors meet EDM-infused club culture, all built on a solid understanding of Black jazz history.  

Garcia is a star in this world, a role model for youngsters across the country. But the outlook on Source is global, as is its creator's reach. 

GRAMMY.com chatted with Nubya Garcia about how her debut album, Source, explores identity and community, how the sounds from her multicultural roots left a "life-changing" impact on her and why she thinks livestreams will never replace live music.

The Guardian recently described your music as "post-American" jazz. What sort of sounds and influences do you find in your music that you might not find in more straight-ahead, bebop-oriented music?

Labels are really interesting; they can often leave out quite a lot in the picture they create. I'd say you can find a lot of reggae and dub. You wouldn't necessarily hear it in my music, but I [also] love garage, footwork, tiny bits of early dubstep and music from the Latinx community. Essentially, I like music from all over the world—global music. I don't like the term world music, and I'm glad that's slowly leaving 'cause it's ridiculous—we all live in the same world! 

How much of this stems from growing up around these sounds in Camden, North London?

Kind of in a big way, but also, I wasn't exactly listening to bashment at home when I was a kid. We had a lot of reggae and dub in the house, but as much as that, we had classical music and mum's '70s and '80s pop records. A really big influence for me growing up was visiting Trinidad Carnival when I was 10; that was my first dive into a culture that I was born into [Editor's Note: Garcia's father is Trinidadian]. Witnessing the multitude of sounds within soca and calypso was life-changing. Since then, I gravitate towards it—I seek it.

I guess our music is a real involvement of jazz within a different dancing complex. Jazz has always been dance music, and it's taken little windy routes away and back from this. Perhaps this is another one of those moments. Bringing jazz to different venues has charged the music with a different energy, too, although it hasn't lost any of the influence of "the tradition." I can still play a ballad in a club if I wanted to. And by club, I don't mean a jazz club.

Read: Glen Ballard On How His Netflix Show "The Eddy" Puts Music, Jazz And Performance First

Exactly. I think one of the most interesting things about the U.K. jazz scene at the moment is its emphasis on space and place, as well as sound, which often means jazz-influenced music turns up in unexpected places.

We're blessed with curiosity and a supportive community, which includes venues, too. There are lots of places to play, to see what everyone's up to and collaborate. 

Collaboration isn't unique to us, but there is certainly freedom of creation. [In non-COVID times,] we were in jazz clubs alongside pubs, warehouses alongside "club" clubs, places that only had indie bands, rock bands, grunge, punk … These weren't really places for jazz-inspired music, and that's what's really exciting to me. We're just creating, playing what we like and pushing it together.

On Source, the thing that flows through the album is a focus on identity, but I like that each track shows a different chapter of this story. I imagine it's been a personally rewarding experience putting it together culturally as well as musically.

Rewarding, but challenging. There was a massive pandemic in the middle of it ... It feels like a whole story, but as complete as it sounds, it still feels searching enough to me. There are themes throughout about identity—my identity and our identities as humans—how we connect to it and what grounds it. It's a really honest representation of me at the moment.

Albums like Source and the upcoming Blue Note Re:imagined, the latter of which features an all-U.K. lineup reworking iconic Blue Note tracks, show that the world is listening to your community at the moment. Where's the scene at now and where might it be headed?

It was a really exciting place to be [pre-COVID]. If you saw my calendar … we were finally like … well to be honest, I never really imagined any of this happening. My goal as an 18-year-old was to get a gig! Being able to play the music I grew up listening to all over the world was something I never really imagined could happen.

We'd been touring and building slowly, but really well. Everything felt very rooted in enjoyment rather than sales 'cause it's not pop music …

But where's the movement as a whole going now?

Right now? I think things are opening up. We've done a few sessions, and I've had a couple of livestream offers, but I'm not a fan of the livestream thing, I'll just be straight with you. 

Why?

Because we can't survive on livestreams. I think it's going to become even more difficult to be a musician, which is going to leave a huge gap in generations to come. When we look in five, 10 years, we'll ask, "Why are there no young bands coming through?" Because there's no money in it, there's nowhere for them to play, they don't have any options to get those £100, £50, £20 gigs. Lord, I hope they're not still doing that sh*t anymore!

They still are …

That's what was going on when I was 20! That's how we cut our teeth and learned when to say no, when to say yes and when to push for more. But I think livestreams aren't the same thing. They are something, don't get me wrong, but I'm very worried that it'll become the norm if there are no venues to play out in. I think the big venues will be fine, but we really need to protect the smaller venues that have had such a huge part to play in our development. You need to play out to improve. You can't just play together in a room for a year and then say, "I want to play at Glastonbury."

I'm trying to remain hopeful because I need to, but I don't think livestreaming is the way forward. It's great for reaching out around the world, but it's not sustainable, and it changes how the audience communicates with the other members of the audience, too. Music is a huge part of sharing that experience—it only happens once.

That's the other thing: Source feels live. How have you reconciled this with the current situation where there's virtually no live music?

I've made my peace with it—there's no point crying about it! It's all that we have, and it's the closest we can get to the real thing right now. Hopefully, we can play it in the future, and when we do get to tour it, it'll be mad. I've never done a gig so long after a record has been released, so in a way, it'll be really beautiful because then people will know the album.

What do you hope new listeners will find in your music?

Bits of themselves, bits of other people, stories they've not heard before and stories they're reminded of through the tunes. I just want listeners to listen, feel it and have an open mind, feel some joy, express themselves, dance, move and share. Most of all, I just want people to be present!

This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Thundercat's New Album Is A Balm For Troubled Times

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
Rufus Wainwright

Rufus Wainwright

Photo: Barbara FG (Cleared for any usage with credit)

News
Rufus Wainwright & More On Their Favorite Venues sacred-spaces-rufus-wainwright-yungblud-keb-mo-and-others-reflect-independent-venues

Sacred Spaces: Rufus Wainwright, YUNGBLUD, Keb' Mo' And Others Reflect On The Independent Venues And Clubs That Changed Their Lives

Facebook Twitter Email
As the majority of the live concert industry across the world remains on pause, GRAMMY.com chatted with a handful of artists about their cherished concert memories at some of their favorite clubs and venues
David McPherson
GRAMMYs
Aug 3, 2020 - 6:00 am

Though it's been more than 50 years since Café Au Go Go closed, Blood, Sweat & Tears frontman David Clayton-Thomas still recalls the cultural significance of this famed NYC basement bar. Formerly located at 152 Bleecker St. and operating from 1964-1969, the Greenwich Village hotspot hosted everyone from Cream, with Eric Clapton, to Jimi Hendrix.

"It was the place to be in those days," Clayton-Thomas reflects. "That is where Blood, Sweat & Tears started. We became the house band for a couple of months while recording our first album at CBS Studios on 52nd Street. We would work the club at night and record during the day. It's hard to forget a club like that. It will always be a part of my wonderful memories of New York."   

It's not a stretch to say that the resulting Blood, Sweat & Tears self-titled 1968 album, which has sold 10 million copies worldwide and won the GRAMMY for Album Of The Year in 1970, would exist today without the band's experience at this small yet renowned club. 

Clayton-Thomas' story illustrates exactly how independent music venues are more than four walls. Within the confines of these cramped clubs is a shared cultural history and community: collective stories of unforgettable nights watching your favorite bands and artists perform. The spirits of these artists—some long gone—are forever etched in the wood and ingrained in the stain-filled dance floors.

Exterior of Café Au Go Go in NYC in 1965

Exterior of Café Au Go Go in NYC in 1965 | Photo: Don Paulsen/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

During the COVID-19 pandemic, the live music ecosystem, already hit hard by rising real estate prices, gentrification and urban sprawl, entered crisis mode. Seminal clubs across North America, from L.A.'s historic Troubadour to Toronto's legendary Horseshoe Tavern, lie silent. 

Like concertgoers, club and venue owners, too, are eagerly awaiting the return of live music. In the interim, these entrepreneurs do what they can to keep their businesses afloat: Some launched GoFundMe fundraisers, while others turned to social media, patrons and local and federal government for financial support. The politicians are starting to hear these pleas. 

Earlier this month, the U.K. government announced a £1.57 billion (approximately $2 billion) aid package for the arts, culture and heritage industries. In the U.S., a pair of senators introduced a relief bill: the Save Our Stages Act. The Recording Academy is also endorsing a pair of solutions: the RESTART Act and the Mixed Earner Pandemic Unemployment Assistance Act.     

The sad reality: Without the leniency of landlords and the passing of stimulus acts by governments, many iconic clubs and independent venues will not survive the financial fallout caused by the coronavirus pandemic. Even with these lifelines, the outlook could be grim. According to a survey from the National Independent Venue Association (NIVA) last month, which surveyed nearly 2,000 music professionals across the U.S., 90 percent of independent venue owners, promoters and bookers said they will have to close permanently within the next few months if they do not receive financial relief from the government. 

As the majority of the live concert industry across the world remains on pause, GRAMMY.com chatted with a handful of artists, including Rufus Wainwright, YUNGBLUD, Keb' Mo' and others, about their cherished concert memories at some of their favorite clubs and venues.

Rufus Wainwright

Venue(s): The Troubadour and Coronet Theatre in Los Angeles, Calif.; McCabe's Guitar Shop in Santa Monica, Calif.; The Town Crier in Beacon, N.Y.; Ursa, owned by his sister Martha Wainwright, in Montreal, Quebec 

Rufus Wainwright

Rufus Wainwright performs in Austin, Texas | Photo: Barbara FG (Cleared for any usage with credit)

Self-isolating these days at his home in Los Angeles finds GRAMMY-nominated singer-songwriter Rufus Wainwright spending time practicing more, especially the piano. "I've been able to dive into the technical forest," he tells GRAMMY.com. Before the pandemic hit, he was on tour and starting the promotion cycle for his newest album, Unfollow The Rules, which he released last month via BMG. He booked gigs at many clubs, including The Troubadour, to promote the record. Then he had to cancel them. 

"The Troubadour, for me, is especially poignant," Wainwright says. "I performed there a couple of times over the years, and I've seen many shows there. We were set to play there at the beginning of this tour. This album is very much influenced by the history of Laurel Canyon [in Los Angeles], songwriting and Hollywood, and we had this symbolic show booked at The Troubadour to emulate some of the grand history that occurred in that venue. Sadly, that opportunity got ripped away when the pandemic struck." 

Read: Beginnings And Endings With Rufus Wainwright

Other touchstone venues for Wainwright in the L.A. area include: The Coronet Theatre, now Largo At The Coronet, where he regularly performed early in his career and McCabe's Guitar Shop on Pico Boulevard in Santa Monica, where the artist played a series of shows before the pandemic hit. 

"I am familiar with the smaller-venue situation mainly because my parents started out playing in coffeehouses in the 1960s and '70s," Wainwright says. "Places like the Caffè Lena in Saratoga Springs, [N.Y.], and The Iron Horse Music Hall in Northampton, Mass., are all part of the really vital, socially important folk music movement my parents [Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle] were a part of in the 1960s. For a lot of artists, these venues are like a trampoline that can catch your fall when you aren't necessarily the flavor of the month. I grew up witnessing this dynamic, and I started out in smaller venues. To dominate that dynamic is really important and harder than you think. A lot of big artists cannot play a small venue … it's too scary and too intimate, but I love them!"  

YUNGBLUD

Venue(s): The Crowndale in Camden Town, London, England; The Lock Tavern in London, England; The Electric Ballroom in Camden Town, London, England

YUNGBLUD performs at the Electric Ballroom in 2019

YUNGBLUD performs at the Electric Ballroom in 2019 | Photo: Matthew Baker/Getty Images

Born in Doncaster, Yorkshire, British rocker YUNGBLUD left home at 16 and moved to London. "I ran away because the north of England is not a place for a kid in lipstick playing rock 'n' roll," he says. Once settled in the south, he discovered the live music mecca of Camden Town, north of England's capital. 

"These venues shaped what I am as an artist today," he says. "I remember walking into Camden Town for the first time and my mind exploded; it was everything I ever wanted. It was Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory. I had a golden ticket to everything I read about: The Libertines, Amy Winehouse, etc. I used to skive off work to get coffees and go to Camden for hours, telling my dad I had been mugged! 

Read: Yungblud Talks Turning His Tour Postponement Into An Online Rock & Roll Variety Show

"Camden was really a big turning point in my career," he continues. "I've played every tiny venue in Camden, from The Crowndale for 10 people to a sold-out show at The Lock Tavern where Amy Winehouse played early in her career and who is a massive inspiration to me. She taught me being you is good enough. Later, I played the Electric Ballroom to 1,500 people. The Camden Assembly, formerly The Barfly, is where my guitar player [Adam Warrington] and I really connected and when we figured out we were going to play music together for the rest of our lives, bonding over our love of Joy Division, Blur, N.W.A, Foo Fighters and David Bowie.

"When I think about Camden, that spirit, and every show I've played in the clubs there, I remember why I'm here and what I'm doing it for … it's all about the passion!" 

Colin Linden

Venue: The Legendary Horseshoe Tavern
City: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Opened: 1947

Colin Linden (R) with Robbie Robertson (L) performing at the Legendary Horseshoe Tavern in approximately 1989

Colin Linden (R) with Robbie Robertson (L) performing at the Legendary Horseshoe Tavern in approximately 1989 | Courtesy Photo: Colin Linden

These days, Canadian blues artist Colin Linden lives in Nashville, Tenn., but Toronto is where he cut his teeth. The GRAMMY-nominated songwriter and producer grew up fast, sitting in as an underage teen with local legends like Willie P. Bennett and David Wilcox at small clubs around town. Today, Linden figures this is the longest time he has gone without a gig in his 48-year career. "I feel a real need to connect with people," Linden says. 

Toronto's legendary Horseshoe Tavern is Linden's seminal venue. He still has a scar on his forehead from a time he played The Shoe in the mid-1980s and bounded off the stage a little too recklessly. And in the early 1990s, he played there frequently with a secret band, which included Bruce Cockburn, called Bambi And The Deer Hunters. 

"It is the place where I started playing as a kid and kept on playing over many years," Linden recalls. "It was an important venue long before I ever set foot in there. It's a place where I've had a lot of laughter and a lot of tears. When I think about the Horseshoe Tavern, I think about so many things. I remember sitting in the back alley in booker Peter Graham's car, playing him my demo and talking over my mistakes. I really wanted a gig there." 

The most memorable night for Linden at this venue happened on March 13, 1989, when he shared the stage with The Band members Rick Danko, Garth Hudson and Robbie Robertson. "That was such an amazing night," Linden thinks back. "I remember Robbie getting offstage and asking me, 'How can you guys hear anything?' I realized he had not been on a stage in more than 10 years and forgot how loud it gets in a club!"

Keb' Mo'

Venue: Harvelle's
City: Santa Monica, CA
Opened: 1931

Harvelle's

Harvelle's | Photo: John M. Heller/Getty Images

Harvelle's, a popular West Coast blues club with a long history, is where Kevin Roosevelt Moore started playing in 1992 before he was known as Keb' Mo' and before he had a record deal. His first audition to play the historic venue failed. Later, he landed a gig at the club through a friend who needed a guitarist. After that, Moore played the venue regularly for years. One Tuesday, Moore was performing when television producer and composer Chuck Lorre was in the audience; an introduction led Moore to land the theme song for the popular CBS sitcom, "Mike & Molly."

"It's very important to maintain the local watering holes of our country," Moore, who this year took home a GRAMMY for Best Americana Album for his 2019 album, Oklahoma, explains. "For me, Harvelle's is the place where I figured out who I was. Harvelle's is where I became 'Keb' Mo'.' If not for Harvelle's, I, and many other artists I know, would not be where we are today. It's so important to make sure these local places that feed the community—socially, culturally, and artfully in a musical way—remain open. When you take away the starting point for musicians, you take away the connection. It's the local pubs and the local dives that make us who we are.

Watch: Keb' Mo' Reflects On The Journey To His 'TajMo' GRAMMY Nomination

"Even today, Lady Gaga, Bruce Springsteen, etc., all want to do a dive [bar] tour because the dives are what's happening," he continues. "It's about connecting to the people. It's raw, it's honest and it's genuine. The place you have to be most genuine of any place is in a dive, because when you play a fancy theater, everyone comes to see you and is expecting something. In a dive, no one gives a crap about you, so you have to go to them and figure out how to connect and reach them. In a way, playing a dive is way more difficult than playing a concert. Harvelle's and all the dives, coffee shops [and] restaurants of the world are very important to creating that connection and community within the music business." 

Sarah Jarosz

Venue: The Cactus Café 
City: Austin, Texas
Opened: 1979

Sarah Jarosz

Sarah Jarosz performs at The Cactus Café in approximately 2006 | Photo: Steve Oleson

At 29, New York City-based American Roots singer-songwriter Sarah Jarosz has already won three GRAMMYs. (Her newest album, World On The Ground, released in June, features production from five-time GRAMMY winner John Leventhal.) Jarosz shares her love for The Cactus Café, one of the storied music clubs situated on the campus of the University Of Texas At Austin in her hometown. The venue has hosted a who's who of Texas songwriting legends and bands over the years, from Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark to The Chicks and Nickel Creek.

Read: Sarah Jarosz Graduates to GRAMMY Winner with 'Undercurrent'

"Since I'm not able to play shows on the road right now, I've naturally turned my thoughts to some of the first venues I began playing in," Jarosz says. "I have a particular fondness for The Cactus Café. That's the first club I remember my parents taking me to as a little kid, even when it was way past my bedtime. I remember the smell of the coffee brewing, the clinking of the glasses at the bar tucked into the back corner, the warmth of being surrounded by kindred spirits and music-lovers. 

"Venues like The Cactus are sacred spaces," she adds. "For the hour or two that you're inside them, the outside world disappears, and musicians and listeners alike find solace in the energy and the sounds."

Jane Bunnett

Venue: Jazz Showcase
City: Chicago, Ill.
Opened: 1947

Jane Bunnett performs at Jazz Showcase in Chicago, Ill.

Jane Bunnett performs at Jazz Showcase in Chicago, Ill. | Photo: Jim Funk

Jane Bunnett, 63, is a soprano saxophonist, bandleader and three-time GRAMMY nominee. The most recent ensemble the Toronto artist assembled is the all-female, GRAMMY-nominated Afro-Cuban jazz group, Jane Bunnett & Maqueque. 

She holds a special place in her heart for Chicago's Jazz Showcase, started by Joe Segal in 1947. Legends from John Coltrane to Miles Davis have played this historic club. Today, you'll still find the 94-year-old NEA Jazz Master Segal hanging around, but his son, Wayne, runs the day-to-day operations. 

The first time Bunnett tried to sit in and play at Jazz Showcase in the late 1980s, Joe refused to let her play. Flash ahead a decade. Bunnett was back in the Windy City for the Chicago Jazz Festival. After her set, musician Ira Sullivan introduced her to Joe, who didn't recall the incident. Amends were made. In the last five years, the club has become a regular anticipated stop for Bunnett & Maqueque; they were scheduled for another gig there this spring before the pandemic hit.

Read: 'Bitches Brew' At 50: Why Miles Davis' Masterpiece Remains Impactful

"I've got incredible memories of playing that room," Bunnett says. "Right behind the bandstand is a beautiful 10-by-12-foot photograph of Charlie Parker. I remember the first night I'm up on that stage, it was such a joyous moment. Joe sat right in front of my percussionist and just stared. I looked around the room at all the paraphernalia and history and just soaked it in. There I was with a bunch of young Cuban kids in their early 20s who didn't have a clue of who many of the artists pictured on the walls were."

Sierra Hull

Venue: The Station Inn
City: Nashville, Tenn.
Opened: 1974

Sierra Hull (R) performs with Justin Moses (L) at The Station Inn in Nashville, Tenn.

Sierra Hull (R) performs with Justin Moses (L) at The Station Inn in Nashville, Tenn. | Courtesy Photo: Sierra Hull

At 28, bluegrass/roots artist Sierra Hull has already released four full-length albums. Her most recent, 25 Trips, released in February on Rounder Records, is the follow-up to her GRAMMY-nominated 2016 album, Weighted Mind. 

"It's easy to take for granted that a venue like The Station Inn will always be there," she says. "It's a staple of the Nashville community and a musical home for so many of us. I've been deeply inspired by the concerts I've seen by both legends and peers there, and have played the stage myself countless times over the years. It's the type of venue that is perfectly small and intimate yet with a history that makes it feel larger than life. 

Read: Sierra Hull Takes Her Place In Bluegrass History, Talks Legacy & New Music At Wide Open Bluegrass

"It really breaks my heart to know that venues we all love are struggling and could potentially go under during this pandemic. I hope and pray they can survive this for the sake of our community and the need we all have to gather together in places with so much history and meaning."

Ondara

Venue: Cedar Cultural Center
City: Minneapolis, Minn.
Opened: 1989

Cedar Cultural Center

Cedar Cultural Center | Photo: Jahi Chikwendiu/The Washington Post via Getty Images

Ondara, previously known as J.S. Ondara, grew up in Nairobi, Kenya, listening to a lot of rock music before moving to the U.S. in 2013. His debut album, Tales Of America, released in 2019, received a nomination for Best Americana Album at the 2020 GRAMMYs. In May, the singer-songwriter released his follow-up, Folk N' Roll, Vol 1: Tales Of Isolation, an 11-song collection written and recorded by Ondara, in less than a week, while in lockdown in Minneapolis. The compositions speak to our times and collective quarantined experience. A direct response to the global pandemic, the album serves as therapy for Ondara. 

Before moving from Africa to America, Ondara had never been to a concert. His first show was at the Cedar Cultural Center, a Twin Cities live music hot spot for the past 30 years. It changed his life. 

Read: Kenyan Singer/Songwriter J.S. Ondara On Telling His Own 'Tales Of America' With Debut LP

"I was new to America, and I had spent some time with music unsuccessfully," he recalls. "Nothing was working out, so I decided to go to school. Halfway through my second semester, a friend invited me to a show to see Seattle singer-songwriter Noah Gundersen. I had a completely spiritual experience at that concert. I dropped out of school the following day and went back to focusing on my music and making my debut record. It was life-changing. The novelty of [it] being my first concert, along with my internal turmoil of my desires to be a musician being stifled, all played a part in the experience. It left a lasting impression. I honestly can't wait until I can be in a room full of people again and sing right in their faces." 

4 Independent Record Stores Across The U.S. Weigh In On Their Struggle To Survive During COVID-19

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
Gerry Gibbs

Gerry Gibbs

Photo: Joan Carroll

News
Inside Chick Corea's Final Recordings gerry-gibbs-terry-gibbs-songs-from-my-father-jazz-album-chick-corea-final-recordings

Gerry Gibbs Assembled Jazz Legends To Honor His Father's Music. The Result Contained Chick Corea's Final Recordings.

Facebook Twitter Email
Jazz drummer Gerry Gibbs drove 15,000 miles around America to make 'Songs From My Father,' a homage to his dad Terry Gibbs’ music. One of the greats who contributed was Chick Corea—and unbeknownst to everyone, these were the last recordings he’d ever make
Morgan Enos
GRAMMYs
Aug 13, 2021 - 10:58 am

North, south, east and west on the interstates of a pandemic-gripped America, Gerry Gibbs drove 15,000 miles to make some music. In the evenings, he and his wife, Kyeshie, camped out in the car and dozed off to DVDs of Kojak, Starsky and Hutch and The Mod Squad. They were too apprehensive about COVID-19 to board a flight or sleep in a hotel. So, with his record label's financial assistance, they drove and drove and drove.

"I'm not touring. I'm not working. I just sit at home every day wondering what's going to happen," Gibbs told GRAMMY.com back in 2020 while driving through the middle of the desert. "Everything I ever had doesn't exist anymore." So he hurtled between New York, California, Texas and Florida throughout the first wave. "All to make this stupid record," Gibbs says in 2021, cheekily and modestly. Because what he and his associates made is a doozy.

He was driving all over creation to make Songs From My Father (released August 6), a homage to the songbook of his dad, the pioneering vibraphonist and bebop luminary Terry Gibbs. It features four permutations of his Thrasher Dream Trio, drawing from a Rolodex of cream-of-the-crop musicians: bassists Ron Carter, Christian McBride and Buster Williams, and pianists Chick Corea, Kenny Barron, Patrice Rushen, Geoff Keezer and Larry Goldings.

By now, in music, the anecdotes about recording in lockdown are starting to bleed together. Plus, jazz is a Möbius strip of lineages, so a son paying tribute to his father is as natural as can be. That said, Songs From My Father stands out for multiple reasons. 

First, it sheds light on Terry, an underappreciated architect of America's music. Second, it’s a testament to Gerry's indefatigable creativity. And—perhaps most enticingly—it contains the final recordings of the late pianistic legend and 25-time GRAMMY winner Chick Corea.

Terry Gibbs

Terry Gibbs with bassist Eddie Safranski and the 1953 Metronome All-Stars. Photo: PoPsie Randolph/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images​.

The Swinging Mastery Of Terry Gibbs

At almost 97, Terry is a hilarious fount of stories, and his 2003 memoir, Good Vibes: A Life in Jazz, is a treasure trove of Brooklynite musings. The man born Julius Gubenko in 1924 had a front-row seat to bebop and big band at their peaks, playing with Benny Goodman, Buddy Rich, Ella Fitzgerald, Charlie Parker, Bud Powell, Dizzy Gillespie and scores of other household names.

Gerry was born in 1964, and his father didn’t steer him toward becoming a musician at all. "He's had his own mind since he was a kid," Terry tells GRAMMY.com. "I never told him what to like. He went from liking Buddy Rich to liking Elvin Jones, and that's a big jump going from straight-ahead to a guy who was playing pretty far out. But he liked it. That's where his head was."

Gerry Gibbs & Terry Gibbs

Terry and Gerry Gibbs. Photo courtesy of Gerry Gibbs.

Read More: 10 Essential Cuts From Jazz Piano Great McCoy Tyner

Gerry became a music obsessive by his own volition. "You remember those blue-jean-colored folders you put all your manilla folders in when you were in class?" Gerry asks GRAMMY.com. "On the front, I would just put 'Chick Corea. Ron Carter. Freddie Hubbard. Miles Davis. John Coltrane. Kenny Barron.' And I would just stare at the names on the books and say, 'These are my heroes. These are the people I want to play with one day.'"

Terry didn't just play with the titans of bebop; he provided a platform for brilliant Black female pianists. One, Alice Coltrane (née McLeod), is experiencing an overdue reappraisal. Another, Terry Pollard—an equal talent on vibraphone who performed alongside him in swinging mallet contests—remains bizarrely obscure given her considerable skills.

About Alice Coltrane, "Before everything she had done with John, she was a swinging bebopper, playing in all these Detroit bands and in Terry Gibbs' band," saxophonist Jeff Lederer told GRAMMY.com in 2020. "She was a great, great bebopper." As for Pollard, "I feel like it's really important to acknowledge her when talking about this music," Geoff Keezer tells GRAMMY.com.

Terry Gibbs & Terry Pollard

Terry Gibbs and Terry Pollard. Photo courtesy of Gerry Gibbs.

Read More: 'Ptah, The El Daoud' At 50: How Alice Coltrane Straddled Heaven And Earth

Terry played from age 12 until his retirement at 92. In that time, he made more than 90 solo recordings and was the musical director on "The Steve Allen Show" for more than 20 years. However, he's mysteriously still not an NEA Jazz Master, despite many musicians far younger than him—and with fewer bona fides—receiving the honor.

Plus, his infectious compositions, like "Kick Those Feet," "Bopstacle Course" and "Pretty Blue Eyes," aren't as widely known as they should be in the 21st century. That is, unless Gerry has something to say about it.

The Creative Whirlwind Of Gerry Gibbs

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree: Gerry Gibbs is as loquacious and driven as his father. Moreover, time is elastic on Planet Gibbs: What would typically be a half-hour conversation might stretch to more than three times that length.

"When he's explaining stuff, his mind is going 20,000 miles an hour," Patrice Rushen tells GRAMMY.com. "He might skip a lot of information that it would be of value for you to try to keep up with where he's going." For example: "'There's no bass player in this session.' [Pauses.] OK. 'Well, you'll be playing with [pianist] Larry Goldings.' [Pauses even longer.] OK? 'Larry's going to play the organ.' OK, got it. Now I'm piecing it together."

Put a man like this in pandemic house arrest, and he'll do something like write and record an entire song every day in an 18-day spree while playing all the instruments. And that's what Gerry did. He sent the resulting album, Emotional Pandemic, to 500 people on his email list. One of them happened to be Corea, who he'd been friendly with before but never worked with.

Corea took to Gerry immediately and emailed him, eager to learn about his creative process. "I was pretty freaked out," Gerry admits. "Friends of mine hadn't had time to listen to it, and here's Chick, who's so busy, and he listened to it numerous times." Gerry sent Corea his phone number; they talked for two hours and became fast friends.

"One time, at almost 3:00 in the morning, the phone rang, and it was Chick," Gerry says. "My wife sees the phone and I say, 'He must have butt-dialed me.' I answer the phone, and he says [loudly] 'Guess whooo!' I don't care. Chick could have woken me up every night, and it would be fine. It's Chick."

After Corea listened to Journey to Parts Unknown, another album Gerry made during lockdown—this one comprised of solo piano compositions—he inquired about adapting the tunes to include bass and drums.

"Then I realized, 'My label can't afford him,'" Gerry says. He offered to put his people in touch with Corea's people; Corea waved it away. "He was just like, 'No, no, no. Don't worry about that. I don't care about that. Let's just do it.'"

There was another potential wrinkle: Gerry's compositions are incredibly elaborate, so much so that Corea requested advance time with the charts. Plus, with COVID as a factor, lengthy rehearsals weren't possible. So rather than composing streamlined, improv-friendly music, Gerry decided to play his father's music instead.

"It's a tribute to my dad, but it's not a tribute because he's my dad," he says. "His music was some of the most important music for me growing up. It was my way to put my take on something that I grew up with that had a huge influence on me." While on a stroll through his neighborhood, he called everyone who ultimately would be involved with the record. They were in.

Gibbs told Corea he was going to change direction and play his father's music instead. Corea took to the idea enthusiastically, even asking to write an original song for the record: "Tango for Terry."

"All of us had so much faith in his judgment and his ability to work out the situations that were beyond everyone's expectations and experience."    —Ron Carter

When it came time to track the music in various locations, none of the musicians were rusty after being housebound for months. "I was a little apprehensive about going into the studio, but I needed to play," Keezer says. "I was very happy that he called me for the project, especially with Christian on bass." 

Gerry's curatorial and leaderly acumen struck all the musicians involved. "All of us had so much faith in his judgment and his ability to work out the situations that were beyond everyone's expectations and experience," Ron Carter tells GRAMMY.com. Barron adds, "Gerry is very creative in terms of coming up with different kinds of projects. It's not always the same thing, which I love about him."

For "Chick's Tune," a spin on Terry's "Hey Jim" with nine out of 10 of the musicians taking a solo, Gerry matched the tempo to a 1961 recording of his father and spliced his vibraphone solo to the music. "Gerry's very good at [working with] pre-recorded elements to play to, as far as the production side," Larry Goldings tells GRAMMY.com. "Gerry's very clever at editing."

Notably absent from his namesake song, however, was Corea.

The Final Musical Fires Of Chick Corea

By all accounts, Corea was strong and upbeat during the sessions. However, when it came time to tackle "Hey Jim," "Chick called me and said, 'I can't play on it because I'm not feeling good. I've got a pain in my ribs. Can we postpone this for three or four weeks?'" Gerry recalls. "I said, 'Of course, Chick.'"

"And then I spoke to his management," he says. "Chick was gone."

In a massive shock to the global jazz community, Corea passed away on February 9, 2021, from a rare form of cancer. He embodied energetic creativity for a musician in his autumn years; the internet was full of his recent videos and masterclasses. With about a month left, Corea got his affairs in order and wrote a statement to the world.

"I want to thank all of those along my journey who have helped keep the music fires burning bright," he said. "It is my hope that those who have an inkling to play, write, perform or otherwise, do so. If not for yourself then for the rest of us. It's not only that the world needs more artists, it's also just a lot of fun."

"My dad always said, 'People remember the very beginning, and they always remember the end. They don't always remember everything in the middle'... That's what I try to remember: What are the bookends? Are they really memorable?" —Gerry Gibbs

"I was so hurt and disappointed that, finally, I got to hook up with Chick and that we were going to get together and play after COVID," Gerry says. "It's a little eerie. When you're a little kid, you don't think, 'One day I'll play with Chick and when it happens, it'll be the last thing he'll ever do.'" 

Gerry suggested they repurpose the track to be a tribute to their fallen friend. Terry agreed and proposed a new title—"Hey Chick." The music sounds as radiant, eager and playful as its namesake.

"My dad always said, 'People remember the very beginning, and they always remember the end. They don't always remember everything in the middle,'" Gerry says. "That always struck me as very important with a lot of music that I love. That's what I try to remember: What are the bookends? Are they really memorable?"

Terry Gibbs & Gerry Gibbs

Terry and Gerry Gibbs. Photo courtesy of Gerry Gibbs.

A Father's Verdict

One critical question remains: What did Terry think of the final product?

"There's nothing greater than to hear someone play a song you wrote and interpret it their own way," he marvels. "You're talking about the heavyweights of heavyweights. Everyone is a bandleader."

"When he told me about all these guys he tried to get, I thought the COVID got to him or he was completely out of his bird!" he exclaims. "How did he get those guys, especially with this disease going around?"

Buster Williams has an answer: Despite the extraordinary circumstances, there was a "business as usual" vibe among the musicians. "We do record dates all the time, you know? You never know what's going to be the result of a record date," he tells GRAMMY.com. "You're sort of like, 'This is what I do.' But I was very pleased when I heard the complete record that they put together."

"When he told me about all these guys he tried to get, I thought the COVID got to him or he was completely out of his bird!" —Terry Gibbs

In a period of frustration over the perceived NEA Jazz Master snub, Songs From My Father proved to be a balm for the family. "[My father] said 'This is better than getting an award,'" Gerry says proudly. "He was really excited." 

And while this ultimate act of paternal respect touches Terry deeply as he approaches a century on this planet, he's not going to let his son off that easily.

"I used to be a boxer," he clarifies. "I can still beat the heck out of him if I want to."

In Remembrance: Chick Corea Played In More Ways Than One

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
Top
Logo
  • Recording Academy
    • About
    • DEI
    • Governance
    • Press Room
    • Jobs
  • GRAMMYs
    • Awards
    • News
    • Videos
    • Events
    • Store
  • Latin GRAMMYs
    • Awards
    • News
    • Photos
    • Videos
    • Cultural Foundation
    • Members
    • Press
  • GRAMMY Museum
    • COLLECTION:live
    • Museum Tickets
    • Exhibits
    • Education
    • Support
    • Programs
    • Donate
  • MusiCares
    • About
    • Get Help
    • Support
    • News
    • Events
  • Advocacy
    • About
    • News
    • Issues & Policy
    • Act
  • Membership
    • Chapters
    • Producers & Engineers Wing
    • Songwriters & Composers Wing
    • GRAMMY U
    • Events
    • Join
Logo

© 2022 - Recording Academy. All rights reserved.

  • Terms of Service
  • Privacy Policy
  • Cookie Policy
  • Copyright Notice
  • Contact Us

Some of the content on this site expresses viewpoints and opinions that are not those of the Recording Academy and its Affiliates. Responsibility for the accuracy of information provided in stories not written by or specifically prepared for the Academy and its Affiliates lies with the story's original source or writer. Content on this site does not reflect an endorsement or recommendation of any artist or music by the Recording Academy and its Affiliates.