The Age of Stupid is the new movie from Director Franny Armstrong (McLibel) and producer John Battsek (One Day In September). Pete Postlethwaite stars as a man living alone in the devastated future world of 2055, looking at old footage from 2008 and asking: why didn’t we stop climate change when we had the chance?
On September 21st / 22nd, on the eve of the UN General Assembly’s climate session, The Age of Stupid will be launched internationally at the biggest and greenest live film event the world has ever seen. A-list celebrities will walk the green carpet to a solar powered cinema tent in downtown New York, linked by satellite to 700 cinemas in 50+ countries.*
For a full list of the amazing sponsors of the Live New York City Global Premiere, click here.
To soul seekers and house heads around the world Vanessa Freeman’s chocolate-rich voice is a blessing from the heavens. She’s graced dozens of tracks by highly-regarded artists like West London’s 4 Hero (most recently on ‘Blue Note Revisited’), Bugz in the Attic, Kaidi Tathum, Kyoto Jazz Massive and Nathan Haines (“Squire for Hire”) and Alex Attias. And as vocalist for the house outfit Reel People she scored the massive hit, ‘The Light’. Freeman is unquestionably at the head of her game, and fully in control of a burgeoning career. With her debut full-length, “Shades”, now out on London’s Chillifunk label, her many talents as a singer and songwriter are on full display. Heads worldwide are turning to this great nu soul talent.
With influences that range from Dee Dee Bridgewater to Donnie Hathaway, as well as her fellow-Londoners like Bembe Segue, Freeman deftly traverses a broad range of vocal styles. On “Shades” Freeman performs a diverse and balanced selection of polished tracks, ranging from “neo” soul to funk to West London’s signature broken beat jazz sound. Co-written and produced by the singular and prolific producer Phil Asher of Restless Soul, “Shades” is a defining moment for both and is certain to be a smashing success. The first single, “Shades”, a deliciously funky affair, with remixes by Los Angeles soul collective the Rebirth, is rapidly ascending the soul charts and getting airplay from tastemaking DJs like Gilles Peterson.
As she prepared for her debut performance at London’s Jazz Cafe, with an 8-piece band including Izzy Dunn and Rasiyah on backing vocals, Mike Patto (Reel People) on rhodes and Neville Malcolm on bass Mundovibes caught up with Ms Freeman. Exhibiting a sweet and uplifting enthusism for her music, and tolerating this writer’s phone card dilemmas (sorry Vanessa – ed.), Freeman gave us the lowdown on her journey as a vocalist and where she’s headed. Expect massive things ahead from this very talented singer.
Mundovibes: It’s spring, and you’ve got a new release out so you must be happy.
VF: Yeah, I’m very very happy.
MV: Give us an overview of the project and how it’s come about and how you feel about it.
VF: One of the bosses at Chillfunk, which is a label in London, saw me perform with one of their artists, Nathan Haines. I am one of the vocalists, and they were into what I was doing, how I was performing. And I knew Phil Asher from times before and that was put to me to do an album with him. And that all came to just making some great music.
JC: It’s a fabulous recording, it’s very rich and pulls in a lot of styles and influences.
V: Yeah, I’ve been told that. It’s like, it stems from the English style, the Brit style, to new soul to all different kinds of genres. Because I love people like Curtis Mayfield and Donnie Hathaway, as well as the singers here. I was trying to ingest that and send it out again, really.
MV: You have a long track record collaborating with a whole slew of artists from 4 Hero to Azymuth. How does that all make sense to you?
VF: With me and 4 Hero it was just an opportunity for me. With 4 Hero and stuff like that it’s just my work for one of their tunes from their album. And then basically it was just the case of being able to make it with them as much as I can. I’ve tried to work with different people as much as possible and get into different styles to push myself. And working with groups like Azymuth which are the guys from Brazil, to work with as many different people as possible.
JC: And, what is the desire? Just to express yourself in as many ways as possible?
VF: One of the desires for me is to stretch myself. I think as a singer you can get into a certain style and a certain vibe, which you can feel comfortable in. But I think what I really wanted to do is just work with people that would stretch me, as well as me stretching the boundaries of their music that they produce. It’s like, you can work with so many people and they just stretch you with your vocal skills, they stretch you with your writing skills, and you want to do the best you can. You want to be at the top of your game and that’s what I want to do. I want to be at the top of my performance, whether it’s working in the studio or whether it’s writing, or having a hand in production, which is something I’d like to go on to doing.
MV: Let’s talk about the “Shades” album.
VF: I’m really happy. I’m happy with the vocal performance that I’ve given because just now even I’m getting different feedback of what people feel about it. And definitely “Shades” is an album, it is my source, it is my heart, it’s the stuff that makes me feel enraged, as well as the stuff that makes me feel really calmed, you know? It’s my spirituality, it’s my happiness, it’s my joy, it’s everything for this moment, for this time. I’m trying to just express who I am and what I do through my music. And working with Phil, also.
MV: What is it that makes him so unique?
VF: The main thing, the thing that got me the most about Phil was his musical knowledge. He just influenced with his musical knowledge, meaning all of the albums and everything he’s got around him. It just sparked me into knowing the styles I wanted to use. Or, he’d play me a few different people that have gone before. It just got me into trying to develop my music style and the stuff that I listen to just make it as brilliant as it could be.
MV: I am just curious how you feel about the differences between British soul and States-based soul.
VF: I’ve heard of instances of when American artists have come here and they have been quite shocked that the English soul, and new-soul elements is as wanting to be as on it as they can. I don’t think they assume that they’re the only ones that can do it, or have the feel of the vibe. Because I was talking to someone about this, about the history. Even singers or musicians here, they all say ‘I’m in to Miles Davis or I’m into Donnie Hathaway’. A lot of our history, even though it’s not British based, what we refer to, our benchlines, where we start from, is American soul. I think the main thing is that people are accepting and ready to be accepting, because there are so many amazing singers and musicians over here, even more so now. There’s 4 Hero, there’s Nathan Haines, there’s a band I work with Reel People, there’s Bembe Segue, there’s so many that are flourishing. At the moment we’re really getting into our sound. Not just listening to the stuff, we’re trying to find our own thing and I think in West London there is their own sound. There is influence from abroad and London but everyone’s trying to hone in on their own sound and what they feel. People say ‘that sounds really Enlish, or I sound really American.’ There’s so many influences there. I think it’s just an acceptance of people in the US of knowing that British people are coming up with their own sound, as well as being influenced by abroad.
MV: I think it’s going to bust out here in the States and “Shades” is very accessible, it could certainly be played next to Erika Baduh on the radio.
VF: The playlists that I’ve gotten, it’s been played in between people like Amp Fidder, Bembe Segue, and I’m cool with that. Even the comparison, people say ‘yeah, that’s really like Jill Scott’. That’s their point-of-reference, that doesn’t bother me at all. To be compared to someone like Jill Scott is quite cool.
MV: How did you develop your vocal abilities and when did you discover that you were a singer.
VF: I was in the school choir and a lot of activities like school plays. And then I worked with a band called The Mighty Truth, which was an acid jazz band. Then the ‘90s acid jazz and the whole soul influence was coming through and I just started writing for them. But my main starting point was with the choir, the church, with school and just hanging out. That was the main thing I did and the main thing that got my confidence in singing in front of people.
MV: Your biography states that your parents immigrated from Jamaica. Obviously people would say ‘why not more of a reggae thing’?
VF: (laughs) Sing reggae? I love reggae, and my dad was very into reggae. My mother was into the ska thing around that time, and soul music. But I just never got into it. If I was led that way as a young girl, just constanly hearing reggae, I reckon I would have been into it.
MV: I’ve heard your voice on so many different artists tracks, everything from the Nathan Haines to 4 Hero to the Sun Ra dedication CD and it’s woderful.
VF: Yeah, the Sun Ra was wicked to do. His vocalist, June Tyson, she’s just phenomenal, so I was just happy to do it really.
MV: So, what’s coming up for you?
VF: I’ve got a gig at the Jazz Cafe, so I’m rehearsing and doing different things to lead up to that. And I’m working with Nathan Haines and Reel People as well. I just want to promote the music as much as possible and gain through it. I love the songs that I’ve done and I’m so happy to have worked with the people I have. They got a lot of heart and soul in what they do, so that’s just added to what I do as an artist.
MV: What about your live performance, how does that come over?
VF: It’s going to be the first time I’ll be performing with the band, at least at Jazz Cafe. It’s an 8-piece band, with keys, drums, bass, guitar, three backing singers and myself. And we just want to smash it, really! Have a really good time, get some warmth in there and just get a good mix of music. Just smash it as much as we can.
A Classic Interview with Global Beatmaster DJ Nickodemus on the Roots of New York City’s Underground Dance Scene
This interview originally appeared on Junkmedia.org. John C. Tripp is the Editor of Mundovibe.com
DJ Nickodemus
By John C. Tripp
Within the rarefied group of DJs that cut their teeth at New York City’s weekly Giant Step parties of the mid-1990s is Brooklyn-based DJ and Producer Nickodemus. At Giant Step, Nickodemus proffered his eclectic mix of acid jazz, hip hop, house, reggae and abstract beats to an appreciative crowd that was as varied as his music: heads, hipsters, hippies and aficionados all together under one vibe. The Giant Step period was a unified and uplifting one for the New York City scene in the early 90s, before Giuliani made it a crime to dance. When Giant Step’s weekly parties came to an end (since rechristened to much acclaim with DJ Ron Trent), Nickodemus hooked up with the Organic Grooves crew and DJ’d many a one-off event. He also began producing music with collaborators Carol C, Jay B and Osiris.
At Organic Grooves, Nickodemus befriended Mariano, an Italian percussionist, forming a friendship and musical partnership that seems fateful. The two envisioned an event that would represent their musical sensibilities of mixing styles and chose the then-neglected banks of the Hudson River for “Turntables on the Hudson,” an outdoor summer party that vitalized the New York club scene with its uplifting and eclectic mix of house, Afrobeat, salsa, dub and hip-hop. “Turntables on the Hudson” has entered the pantheon of the must-attend parties, hosting an uplifting and joyous music selection by DJs and live music with a regular crew that includes DJ Nat Rahav, Mariano, percussionist Nappy G and special guests such as DJ Osiris and the Jinga Pura Samba Drum Troupe.
But “Turntables on the Hudson” is only half the picture; for Nickodemus, there’s also his work as a producer and label cofounder. In 1999, he founded Rhythm Love records with Nat Rahav, featuring their production work and as well as that of others who comprise the Rhythm Love family of DJs, producers and live musicians. The label launched “Turntables on the Hudson,” a compilation featuring the same uplifting, eclectic vibe as the party. There have been a select number of 12″ singles, an EP and two additional volumes of “Turntables on the Hudson,” the latest just released in November. The much anticipated compilation features songs by NYC artists who have contributed to the event, including Osiris, Ticklah, Zeb the pleb, BellHops remix of Groove Collective and new RhythmLove artists Little Jay, Metaprofessor and Puerto Rico-based band Local 12. The CD also features some of the party’s favorite anthems, including Carla Alexandars “Simba” and Raj Guptas remix of Robin Jones’ “Royal Marcha”.
Nickdemus also contributed to DJ Ron Trent’s debut mix CD on Giant Step records with the 12″ single, “Free Souls”, featuring the phenomenal talents of Mino Cinelu, Mitch Stein and Jay Rodriguez and the co-production of Osiris. Nickodemus and Osiris have also recently remixed the song “En Fuego”, featuring Marc Antoine with Troy Simms on guitar. On top of this, Nickodemus has been touring with Mino Cinelu to Europe and Africa as well as DJing a regular gig at Vienna’s Sunshine Club.
With all of this buzz of activity, I had a surprisingly casual meeting with Nickodemus at his home studio in Brooklyn’s Park Slope and then later at Bergen Street Beat, the cafe he is a partner in. Talking music with Nickodemus is a history lesson in New York City’s recent club culture, since he’s been active on the scene since the 1980s, when his sister snuck him into shows at the Roxy where she worked. Hip-hop is the cornerstone of Nickodemus’ musical tastes, and that’s where this interview began.
Mundovibe: I remember seeing you breakdancing last summer at “Turntables on the Hudson.” One night you had a bunch of old school stuff going on…
Nickodemus: Oh yeah, percussionists and we had some breakers. I tried to fuse all of these percussionists with B-Boys and breaks with world influence.
That’s what I like about what I heard. Would you say you came out of the old school in terms of your early influence?
Definitely. Hip-hop, old school. My sister was really inspirational for me. She used to work at these clubs like the Ritz, the Red Zone, all of these old school clubs, and used to sneak me in at like twelve years old. So I had an influence from reggae, house and hip-hop, everything really.
So, you went from being involved in the hip-hop culture in Long Island and hooking up with Giant Step as a DJ?
Yeah.
And you were one of their house DJs?
Yeah, from ’95 to ’99; whenever they stopped doing weeklies. It was nice, it was a good experience. I got to jam with a lot of good musicians and DJs. Really got to be out there and be able to think differently and not have to fit a format of hip-hop. They were really open to anything as party promoters. They never said a word to me, they were like “do whatever you want.”
Would you say that you are part of a crew now? Obviously you are not just a DJ. Is it a loose conglomeration?
Yeah. After years of being down with different people who were into the same thing, you sort of figure out who the real heads are and you go through a lot of different crews. I feel cool about the crew I’m with now. We go by the Rhythm Love Sound System. It started out of myself and Mariano, who’s cool cause I kind of mentored him as a DJ and it feels really cool to see him take it to this whole level and really do well. Everyone’s really good DJs and they have their own little specialties. When we throw parties, we just generally have some of these guys spin, depending on what type of party and what kind of vibe we want to throw down. So, Nat Rahav and me started the label, Rhythm Love records.
And, so far, you’ve had two releases?
Yeah. Two compilations and “Turntables on the Hudson”, our party on the River. We finally have our own forum. I was doing parties for years in all these little spaces. Just random, totally random, and then finally we found a spot where we could do it on a weekly basis, which was the first time for me since Giant Step. I did Organic Grooves for a while, but it was more sporadic. So it was great, we finally had our own thing to push and nurture. And it worked out nice. It blew up right away. Throughout the years people who’d always been kind of like-minded in music and in DJ style—we just hooked them up into the circle.
So, there’s a lot of sharing.
Yeah, and that’s how the compilation came out, because we tried to get tracks from these people. And a lot of people had never even produced before, but they were like “here,” and it just amazed me: ‘how’d that happen?
It’s amazing. If you actually say, “hey you can do this” and put someone up to it.
It was a platform for a lot of people, and they rose to the occasion. Like Nat, who never really DJ’d out, he never produced a lick in his life and now he’s spinning out, he has all the technology for making beats, and he’s flipping out really nice stuff. And that’s in two years.
How about yourself? When did you get into production?
I guess around ’94 I started getting my first exposure. I was with this group called Diversity, a very “Native Tongue” hip-hop group. They never really made it, but they were really, really fresh. I guess the market wasn’t ready for that, it was moving into the gangster shit, so they fell to the wayside. But those guys would bring me around the studio. That was my first exposure to it. And then I bought a sampler one year, around ’96 and just started messing around.
And, in terms of your tracks, you’ve been contributing to compilations, released your own stuff.
Yeah, I’ve done a little of everything. Depending on what kind of track it is, maybe we’ll put it out on [another] label, not our own. Or, maybe we’ll put it out on the label. It’s all mixed up, just spreading the vibes out.
One observation I’ve made is that it seems like now, in terms of hip-hop, the underground has shifted to Brooklyn, with all of the activity that’s going on. It’s a whole different vibe.
It seems that way, and I hope it stays that way. I see so many people that start like that, and they wind up selling their ass out quick. But, I like the scene, the way it’s been going. It’s nice, a lot of different, innovative things happening like more instrumentation or spoken word-influenced. All of these things are great.
Hip-hop has pretty much become a world phenomenon. So, it’s interesting now that it’s merging with other styles. How did that all happen for you?
Mariano and DJ Nickodemus
Mariano and Nickodemus
For me, since I’m a DJ, I guess that a lot of tracks that I was getting had that hip-hop element and it was right about the time I had turned hip-hop off in my head. Sort of the end of the native tongue era when all this gangster music got really commercial at one point. For example, Naz’s second album, if you compare it to his first. That time, right in between there something drastic happened. I can’t put my finger on it, because I’m not that heavy into it. I just know that I was like ‘OK, there’s very [little] hip-hop that I can deal with now, what else is out there?’ I started hearing all of these amazing hip-hop influenced beats, just instrumental, without all the words that really weren’t going anywhere. It was good, because it definitely opened my mind to a whole new style of hip-hop, or interpretation of it. And, sure enough, hip-hop was still doing it’s thing here, but you had to search a little harder to find it, or the right people were holding it down.
This was going on mainly in London?
Yeah, in London, in France, even Japan with DJ Krush who’s stuff was phenomenal to me. So, these things that fuse hip-hop with jazz and hip-hop [with] just straight instrumental stuff, so there was this whole acid jazz scene. I loved it; it had the elements of jazz and funk that I liked, and it also had the elements of hip-hop that I liked. And here they are together. You know, if you want to hear some lyrics and some content you can always check out hip-hop or you can check this out for a vibe. That’s when I started really getting into that whole vibe.
That was while you were with Giant Step?
Yeah, right before I started with Giant Step. A lot of my friends were jamming musicians, so we were always jamming it out as well. It all just started happening very naturally. It was cool.
It’s kind of going full circle in a way, cause a lot of this came out of this area anyway. It’s kind of ironic, ’cause that seems to be the circle, something comes out of New York or the States and it goes to Europe and gets recycled.
That’s the cool thing. I wish a lot more of the people here who were into hip-hop could hear this other stuff that’s happening, that really came from hip-hop in a lot of ways. And came from soul and jazz, where hip-hop came from. That’s why I like playing or producing; I love to catch those elements and educate in a way. I’ve always been into just opening people up into new styles of music and new things, as I learn and get into it. It’s fun because you see it go somewhere else in the world and transform into Indian hip-hop and then, ‘boom’, it’ll come back as a whole other thing.
It’s amazing how rapid it is now. I guess it has good and bad, because a lot of people are always onto the next thing.
Yeah, I hear what you are saying.
When you put your music together and you’re pulling from a lot of areas, that’s something that is personal for you.
Oh, definitely. I pull from hip-hop, I pull from jazz, I love Eastern music, from India from the Middle East, I love African music. All of these things, as you get older you just start feeding your soul with all of these sounds and when you start to make something it just comes out in the most true and natural way. And when it does, you’ll have, like, a very Afro Beat sound but then it’s a hip-hop beat, yet it’s like Eastern vocals. How did all of that happen, I don’t know, you don’t have to label it.
It’s funny, I’ll tell you a little story. We were just in Puerto Rico and we recorded these musicians. We made the beat here and we went down there with the 8-track. It’s kind of how we do it to record musicians, we just move around, like go to Cincinnati and record some jazz cats who are off the meter, and come home and reboot it, move things around. So, we went down there and we asked these legendary musicians, this guy Juancito Torres and Polito Huertas. They used to play with, like, Eddie Palmeri and all these cats. And we asked them to jam on our track, and we played the track for them and they were like ‘what the hell is this?’, we can’t play to a clave that’s like ‘dat, dat, dat, dat, dat’. That’s Brazilian, you can’t play to that. I’m like ‘I’m not trying to make a Latin track, I’m making a track’, you know?
They’re traditional, right?
Very traditional.
Was this an insult to them or was it like ‘what is up with this’?
Yeah, it came off at first like they were trying to say ‘hey you can’t do this, you need to educate yourself before you step to us.’ And I was like, ‘if you want to talk about it, I can tell you the rhythm, but this is a different rhythm I’m not trying to fit into a category and just because you are Latin and you play in a very Latin style doesn’t mean you can’t jam to, say, a reggae beat, you know?’
I guess it happens a lot more in, say, Brazil where there’s more of that going on. In Puerto Rico it seems like it’s really pop drabber.
More interesting. Beside the fact that he was like ‘hey, you can’t do that’, I think he just couldn’t really feel it. He wasn’t used to hearing stuff where the clave was anywhere else. And we had to be like ‘check this out’. I played him a couple other tracks trying to get him to feel the swing. And he got it, he’s a master so he was like ‘kabaam’ and he did it. But it was really interesting, because I thought he was insulting me, but he just couldn’t feel it.
But as a fellow musician he grabbed onto it.
Yeah, he grabbed it.
So, that’s your procedure, you lay down your beats and go live and improvisational with it.
Yeah and from there we may take parts of it and sample it and refreak it, or we’ll take the whole take, just the way it came, which is my favorite technique. I like, ‘OK, are you feeling this beat. What are you going to do over it, and then after you’re done, that’s it. I just like to do one take; what they feel over it, not what I want them feel. I can give them some guidance and then what happens, happens. That’s how I like to do it, but sometimes there’s no chemistry, so you’ve got to doctor it or chuck it.
You do this a lot?
Yeah. Almost all of the tracks I’ve done have had either vocalists or a percussionist or a horn player or a flute player. Generally, I like to try to get guys who are schooled in this type of music, so they can lock into the beat. There’s not too many chord progressions; it’s very lateral for them, but they understand it. It’s not traditional—eventually we’ll start making “electro salsa”, or who knows, but right now we’re doing straight-up dance tracks.
This is all stuff that you can then press or you can work into your mix or whatever?
Yeah. So, the last thing we just did. I’ve been on tour with Mino Cinelu. He’s a really sick percussionist; he used to play with Miles and Sting. So, we’ve been collaborating a lot. I’ve been doing beats and scratches on his music, and he’s doing vocals and percussion on my music. It’s a really nice exchange. He just did this really nice track called “Free Souls” to be released on Giant Step, and it’s the hip-hop beat, the funk bassline, the Afrobeat, he flipped a whole Eastern style cause he knows that’s what I love. It just came out nice, it’s a nice global fusion.
Where do you draw the line where it gets to the point where you’re just watering down too many genres? Do you ever get that kind of criticism?
I think I’m allowed to get away with it because I’m hip-hop (laughs). But if anyone wanted to really challenge me on it, I can represent. I know enough about a lot of the music that I could say ‘hey, this didn’t come out of, I had this record collection. I listen to this music.
That is conveyed in the final thing, because it’s not just slapped on.
Exactly, and if someone felt it isn’t, then they’re a true expert in that area and I humble myself to them but this is what I do. Eventually, I’ll hopefully be a master in a lot of different styles, extremely deep into everything. But, we’ll see (laughs).
Could you have done this in another city, or do you think that it’s the whole multicultural aspect of New York coming through?
I think there’s only a few cities where this can exist, you know? San Fran might pull it off, I wouldn’t even say LA. I mean, you can create a scene anywhere and people will get into it because it’s exotic to people or they just feel it. Let me try to think of a place that was totally out of the ordinary and it worked… Take Vienna, for example… Sunshine Club. That’s my other main place, besides New York. I go there plenty of times. Even now with all that stuff with Jˆrg Haider. There’s a huge Turkish flush in the workforce.
Look at the vibe over there, it’s not very multicultural like New York. Just the way they treat immigrants from Turkey, there was a big resistance to foreigners, and I’m glad that Europe blew up their spot. Europe boycotted and was like, ‘no way, this isn’t happening.’ I was there for a huge protest against Haider in the Heidenplatz, where Hitler gave his famous speeches and it was pretty intense—it was like a complete opposite thing coming out from the speakers from only sixty years ago. It was amazing, there was an amazing turnout to protest this guy. But what I was saying is that from a city that’s not nearly as diverse as this city, there’s actually more music coming out of there that’s world influenced than here. So, I don’t know if it’s really the population, it’s just a matter of what you expose yourself to.
I’ve found that it’s easier to get exposed to it via the Internet.
No doubt. Music shouldn’t be so limited, as long as you respect the traditions.
Have you ever just put out something that traditional. I was thinking Up, Bustle & Out, which is both traditional and has hip-hop beats.
Yeah, those guys are far out. They’re definitely a big influence. When I heard their first album, I was just stunned. They kicked it hard. They went all around South America and they funked it up.
Obviously you do a lot of gigs all over the place. You go to Europe more than the States?
Yeah. I’ve only been to a few places in the States, and they’ve been really small parties with little to no money. But Europe is the place. All of my music is selling in Europe. When I started DJing there in ’96 in Vienna, they loved me because I had that hip-hop sensibility of DJing: mixing and cutting it up, but using all of this current stuff that they were all into and there weren’t too many people doing it like that over there. And I just made a good mark and was able to return. I made some really tight connections with friends, and that’s it. Now, it’s like one of my favorite cities to spin. I’ve been in Paris—the Parisian scene is off the hook, it’s incredible. Almost all of the licensing for my tracks are in Paris, with random compilations like Buddha Bar. These guys are all hip to this world sound dance music.
Are there any people that you want to mention that you work with?
Yeah, sure. I work heavily now on production with Osirus. He’s a friend from growing up, and we just meet perfectly, our minds meet perfectly on the production tip. We just did a 12″ for Giant Step, we doing another 12″ on the hip-hop tip. For this latin project I brought him to Puerto Rico. We have a whole bunch of projects. He also has some solo stuff that’s going to be amazing on our label Rhythm Love.
“High! Quality! Jazz!” A tired and hungry Italian promoter put his head back and howled and it echoed round the dank and freezing Old Street brickwork. It was late and wet on a February Sunday night and like the rest of the audience, Mario Berna had just been sent stumbling from the Barbican still reeling from 48 hours of unbelievable music. In the space of a single weekend, Jazz Britannia season had just proved to an ecstatic crowd of Londoners that their homeland is the centre of the world. In less than three months time Mario would be proving it to Italy. Thirty-nine of the UK’s most exceptional sons and daughters of jazz would soon be touching down in Rome for a four-day showcase of new British jazz – Mario’s brainchild, and the first of its kind in Italy. Courtney Pine, Gilles Peterson, Soweto Kinch, Carleen Anderson, Two Banks of Four, Abram Wilson, Orphy Robinson and Cleveland Watkiss…they’d all be there. It was like Challenge Aneka in twelve keys, but with less spandex.
Fast forward to a sunny April evening outside Red, a trendy restaurant in the classily concrete Parco Della Musica complex – Rome’s brand new triple-pod-like auditorium. Young people in distressed jeans sipped spumante at the outside tables red, white and green, while smart grandmothers and small children strolled up and down the open walkway. Under a banner reading “New British Jazz”, Mundovibes stood smoking cigarettes with a cluster of cameramen outside the Rai Sat studio next door as musicians trooped in to be interviewed for Italian TV. As the red light went on in the studio, Mario appeared by her side. “High quality jazz!” he whispered in her ear. Mundovibes nodded in agreement: the Q was a constant factor in this equation. But was new about New British Jazz?
“It would be nice and easy if I could say, well we play this new beat, or we have this new bassline…” said 27-year-old saxophonist Soweto Kinch, winding down in the dressing room exactly halfway through the festival after a set of pure hip hop-laced genius. “It’s nothing that tangible,” he continued. “It’s to do with the personalities – to do with the people, the musicians, the artists. Each one has an individual voice.”
Watching a whole Shakespeare’s brain worth of characters pass across the Sala Petrassi stage over four evenings of trailblazing music, it was clear that what he said was true. This is no scripted, manufactured movement – it’s the individuals that matter. Courtney Pine, for example, lifting his tenor up and down like the trunk of a magnificent serenading elephant; Bembe Segue scatting frenzied gibberish over a ten-piece free jazz orchestra; Carleen Anderson, kicking the monitor to hit the high notes; or 20-year-old Gwilym Watkins, more Jarvis Cocker than Jaki Byard, knocking out a solo that made his bandmates whistle through their teeth.
Like them, Soweto – at once Oxford history graduate, Montreaux Jazz Festival International Saxophonist of the Year 2002 and member of Pop Idol backing band The Big Blue – is part of a whole family of British artists pushing out the parameters of jazz by sheer force of personality, bringing their own life-sounds to bear on a music whose life-blood is change. In his case these sounds encompass everything from the Jamaican music of his mum and dad to baroque, connecting with his studies of the 17th and 18th century black population of Britain. The net was cast as wide for almost everybody on that stage.
On Wednesday, Cleveland Watkiss, vibrating music from head to naked toe, sang with a lifetime’s worth of MetalHeadz, London Community Gospel Choir and Chet Baker in his lungs, not as a lead singer but as one instrument in a band so tight they might have been wired together. By contrast, watching the controlled chaos of Two Banks of Four on Friday in full-throttle multicoloured synchopation was like seeing the Sun Ra Arkestra, Rotary Connection, Pharaoh Saunders, Abbey Lincoln and Mark Murphy in the thick of a sonic battle for world peace.
“In the UK it’s like a centre of energy,” said Mario, charging through the maze of backstage corridors in pursuit of an AWOL Gilles Peterson. “There are musicians from all kinds of backgrounds who see jazz in a different way. Cleveland Watkiss, he’s worked with Goldie, Roni Size, Talvin Singh. Soweto Kinch, he is one of the best in the world and his sounds have everything from Charlie Parker to rap music. Everybody here in this festival has a connection – Cleveland Watkiss with Abram Wilson, Soweto Kinch with Courtney Pine, Rob Gallagher and Carleen Anderson … That’s the difference. American jazz is great, but it’s always the same people and the same sounds. The difference with British jazz is that it’s more brilliant, more new, more fresh…”
So boundaries are being crossed; but that’s what they all say. What’s happening here is more profound than genre-sliding. “I think it’s quite dangerous for musicians to start thinking in terms of boundaries and even of trying to break the boundaries,” said Soweto. “The more personal a form of expression is, the more chance it has of being unlimited.”
And because of this honest connection with sounds and experiences that are personally real and true, jazz is at last reaching out to a new generation for the first time since perhaps the Seventies. “I really feel like the music that we’re creating is something that everybody could get into, something that could really broaden their horizons as to what jazz is – and what jazz was,” said New Orleans-born trumpeter Abram Wilson, his voice echoing in the cavernous marble hallway where he was taking a breather from the photographers. “Every time we do a performance I see people’s eyes light up. It’s like the more we play, the more attitudes we change.”
But attitudes are not being changed by coincidence; instead that is the purpose of a concerted evangelical-educational effort on the part of the musicians on the one hand, and the newly and admirably hep British Council on the other. “New British Jazz” was the seventh of in a series of Italian festivals called Interplanetary Soundz, organised jointly by Mario’s company, FreeformJazzProduction, Musica per Roma and the British Council to celebrate the many-splendoured thing that is contemporary British music. Since 1999, punters from Milan to Naples have flocked to hear musicians, producers, composers and DJs from Talvin Singh and Nitin Sawhney to Spacek to Dego (4Hero) and Orin Walters (Bugz in the Attic). Many of the guests of Interplanetary Soundz have also participated in British Council events in destinations as far flung as Lithuania, Bosnia, Zimbabwe, Kenya and Tanzania, doing workshops with children, collaborating with local musicians and generally spreading the word.
“The British Council is doing a great thing,” said Abram (like Carleen Anderson an American now permanently resident in London) just minutes before finishing off the festival with a set of truly incredible improvised creation, a touch of Donald Byrd, Horace Silver and Stevie Wonder setting off some almost scary originality. “Anytime kids get to hear this music, any time grownups get to hear it, that’s always an education.” And not only that – for music is and always will be a force for peace. “I think in the case of Sarajevo and certainly in the case of Kenya part of what we were doing was helping to keep good relations with the political regime out there and make sure that Britain has a friendly face as well as a democratic one,” Soweto observed.
His and Abram’s enthusiasm comes in part from their own history of involvement with an outreach project much closer to home. Tomorrow’s Warriors is a London-based organisation, run by Jazz Jamaica bassist Gary Crosby and descended from Courtney Pine’s groundbreaking Jazz Warriors collective, dedicated to nurturing young musicians from urban, working class backgrounds and giving them the platform to develop. True to its name, the rolling membership philosophy of Tomorrow’s Warriors, incarnated in a regular Sunday afternoon jam session at the Spice of Life in Soho, has spawned groups including Jade Fox, arguably the most exciting British soul act in existence, and many of the stars of the future – pianist Andrew McCormack Trio, guitarist Dave Okumu, Soweto, Denys Baptise and others. Three members of the Abram Wilson sextet we saw on Sunday were today’s Warriors none other – pianist Gwilym Watkins, Nathaniel Facey on alto and drummer Shaney Forbes, all within a hair’s breadth of their teens. With Gary Crosby on bass and Denys Baptise on tenor the sense of family about the performance was more than inspiring: musicians at every point from the start to the peak of their careers learning from and respecting each other’s ideas.
“We’re soul mates, all of us. We want to swing, we want to keep the music true to its roots but we also want to push it forward,” said Gary from the depths of a wicker beehive outside Red, whence he had escaped for a breath of fresh air with his partner Janine Irons who runs the groundbreaking new jazz label, Dune. “I personally believe that for there to be a British sound it should represent a wider group of people than it does generally. Tomorrow’s Warriors has to get bigger and stronger. The old companies have contributed a lot to the jazz circuit but new people bring new ideas. Old people can only bring what they know.”
If the newness lies in new people, the foundations have been laid by those, like Gary, who have paved the way for new talent and new ideas to come through. Without them, nothing would have changed and what they’re doing now is anything but cobwebby. People were literally bounding towards the stage on Friday night for Courtney Pine OBE – a man whose dedication to the jazz cause both musically and socially has been recognised even by good Queen Brenda for its outstanding contribution to British culture. With his big smile and the way he staggers (“Phew!”) after every eye-watering solo, Courtney Pine is the great father figure of British jazz. And like any natural born teacher, the process and the fruits of his labours are a constant source of joy. “I feel very honoured to be here in Rome with these musicians,” he said, slightly dazzled in the studio lights. “And it’s a great thing to know that someone from another country is appreciating the unique flavour of British music and recognising that we’re trying to do something different.”
In fact, one of the freshest things about this scene is the way that every sound and every source of music is embraced as an education. From the accelerated straighahead of the Tomorrow’s Warriors crew to the more dancefloor-oriented side of new British jazz represented on Friday night by DJs Gilles Peterson, Nick Matthews and Ady Harley, new is not about amputating the past; new is the salty crest of a ancient and long-travelled wave. “Jazz is the root,” says Gilles, a man who has done more than any other to push jazz music, new and old, out of the sidelines and into the middle of the floor. “I think the old stuff is very, very important for the lineage of music, and not just in a retrospective way. There’s so much to learn.”
The long and winding road to where we are now is never, ever forgotten, and that goes for all forms of music. The fact that musicians like bassist Robin Mullarkey, singer Bembe Segue, alto player Finn Peters and keyboardist Ski Oakenfull can move between the superfree jazz of Two Banks of Four and broken soul/boogie projects like Brotherly, labels like Main Squeeze or 2000Black, contemporary classical groups like Nosferatu and remixing the Sugerbabes just proves that open minds are what it’s all about.
So did they go for it in Italy? They did. More than that, they rose to their feet and screamed for more. “The audience has been great,” said Mario, taking his seat on Sunday night for grand finale, still tired and hungry but also pleased as punch. “In Italy people are very scared about the new. When they go to see music they want to be sure, but the reaction has been amazing.”
So it is: with the front door open and a kettle on the boil, it’s new, it’s British and it’s jazz. From club to concert hall the punters are shivering. From Streatham to Sarajevo the children are learning. From pocketmoney to pension the artists are collaborating. It’s happening.
Back in the marble hallway, Abram Wilson put his trumpet to his lips and tested out a little riff. “Jazz music is not old people’s music – although old people love the music,” he said, presently. “Jazz music is for everybody.”
All photographs copyright Alex Capodanno alecap@zoom.co.uk
Strictly no reproduction without prior permission of the author.
Any further use or publication of these images is forbidden without prior consent from the copyright owner.
Peter Nicholson reports on the Latin-Brazilian meltdown
There are many stories about the origins of house music, but all accounts acknowledge the influence of black and Puerto Rican communities on the beginnings of a sound that has now branched into a myriad of forms. And in recent years a thriving scene has grown in prominence, openly embracing sounds and styles that reflect this many-hued past. Jazzanova, John Beltran, Rainer Trüby — these are just a few names that have found success through their electronic adaptations of tropicalista music.
The San Francisco Bay Area is no melting pot where cultures lose their individual identities — if anything it’s a healthy salad of mixed greens with each distinct community contributing its own flavor. As such, it is no surprise that there is a solid roster of DJ’s sharing a broader vision of “future” dance music, while at the same there coexists a roster of live bands playing more traditional sounds. Though their repertoires and crowds may differ, all share a love of beats from below the equator and a passion for getting down.
Both the audience and the musicians who follow a more traditional approach to the sounds are not necessarily “natives” themselves. Nossa Bossa, a leading Bay Area group that plays Brazilian music, features only one one bona fide Brazilian, Raquel Coelho, whose liquid Portuguese holds together the band’s tight sets. Coelho finds that “there are a lot of good musicians here. A lot of them are from Brazil but also there are a lot of non-Brazilians who love the music and play it well too.” Two such non-Brazilians are Nossa Bossa’s drummer Keith Wald and percussionist Tammy Bueno, whose Baião, Xaxado, Samba, Bossa, Choro, and Partido Alto rhythms propel the band’s fluid style.
Bat Makumba is another Brazilian-focused outfit, though they lean more towards interpretations of Musica Popular Brasileira. Named after the 70’s classic tropicalia song by Gilberto Gil & Caetano Veloso, the band’s sweat-soaked shows have earned them an enthusiastic following and they have an album due out later this spring. Band leader Alex Koberle cites Mission district venue the Elbo Room as “a great place for live music with always a full dance floor. We play there every first Tuesday of the month and every Tuesday has a different live band playing Brazilian music.” Besides live acts, the Elbo Room hosts many DJ’s, some of whose music Koberle enjoys. Yet he qualifies that “some pieces have a pseudo-Brazilian feel that I really dislike. It sounds like people are trying to jump on the Brazilian bandwagon by throwing in some samba elements without really knowing how to do it. It just ends up sounding sloppy to my ears.”
Sloppy sounds are not what one finds every last Thursday of the month at the Make-Out Room, another joint in the Mission. Instead one is treated to choice vinyl selections by Vanka (Stellar Trax) and a rotating crew of guests like Andrew Jervis (Ubiquity), Vinnie Esparza (Dis-Joint), and Tom Thump (Cosmic Flux.) Originally from Belgium, Vanka Van Ouytsel has DJ’ed in the Bay Are for 12 years and is excited about the scene’s potential. “Locally, I’d like to see more conversing and converging between traditional latin/cuban/brazilian music and electronic dance music, on a performance as well as production level…. Although the Bay Area is blessed with a vibrant musical community from the Americas, most local bands tend to perform in the more traditional vein. At the same time, there are also a lot of local DJs and producers that share an interest in the traditional latin/cuban/brazilian sounds, so hopefully more musical fusions will be created here in the future.”
Van Ouytsel is certainly doing his part, hosting East Bay group Superbacana at his Make-Out Room party. Andrew Jervis (Ubiquity Records VP and host of KUSF’s Friday Night Session) was impressed enough by Superbacana’s demo to include them on his label’s Rewind! 2 compilation. They turned in a solid version of the standard “Reza,” adding a heavy bass drum thump and flanged keys midway through the track for a more dancefloor-oriented feel. Bandleader Caroline Chung sees the electronic scene as often more open to change than traditional musicians. “For me, being a live musician, I’ve noticed that the traditional live music scene is adapting to the new electronic sounds at a more slower pace compared to the DJ/dance music crowd adapting to the organic, traditional styles.”
He has been hosting (with the help of XLR8R magazine’s Tomas Palermo) the Friday Night Session for 8 years now and his role as head of A&R for one of the US’s most progressive labels puts him in a front-row seat for changes in taste. “There’s a lot of wishy-washy crap floating around, often promoted as a new innovation, but just because the producer sampled a riff from a Brazilian compilation or something doesn’t mean it’s any good. Fortunately there are lots of really great interactions, too . . . for instance people like Seiji, John Beltran, and Osunlade are all working with Puerto Rican musicians and rhythms right now forging new sounds where Bomba meets broken beats and house and creating new dancefloor tunes that on one level are just great to dance to but also musically deep if you care.”
At the other end of the spectrum from Superbacana, Om Record’s Afro-Mystik comes from the electronic side of things but adds live instrumentation. Headed by Om President Chris Smith aka DJ Fluid, Afro-Mystik also features Simone White (disposible heroes of Hip-Hoprisy) and the amazing vocals of Omega. But it is the live-wire antics of percussionist JSN that drives their live show, one of the best amalgamations of live and electronic performance I have ever witnessed. With the album Morphology due to drop in mid-April, the single “Natural” is already in the crates of taste-maker DJ’s like François K, Halo, and local globe-trotter Andrew Jervis. Jervis is renowned for his open mind and eclectic playlists.
DJ Vinnie Esparza is one who cares, and it shows. In addition to DJ’ing enough to be voted the Bay Area’s Best DJ by a local weekly newspaper, Esparza has a full schedule. “I run a small record label called Dis-Joint, along with Groove Merchant Records owner Chris Veltri. We do new, beat oriented music, as well as funk, soul, Latin, and reggae reissues on our “Re-Joint” imprint. Also, I work at the Groove Merchant myself a couple of days a week, where I do all of the “new music” buying.” While some of Esparza’s customers are quite knowledgeable (the Beastie Boys are just some of their famous fans), he says that “Most people who listen to “DJ” music are not even aware that the latest track from their favorite artist actually has roots deeper than they may think.” In keeping with this theme, Esparza namechecks people like “…Vanka, Soulsalaam (whom I do “New Conception” with), Cool Chris, Romanowski, Andrew Jervis and a handful of others have a real sense of history when it comes to the music they spin, both old & new.”
That seems to be the key: respect the past while looking to the future. Though some may choose to honor their forerunners by sticking with tradition, others seek to apply the same spirit to new styles. Both use these powerful rhythms to move the heart and feet and, come May when San Francisco once again hosts North America’s largest Carnaval, everyone will dance together.
It should come as no surprise that four years passed before Boozoo Bajou followed up their first full-length “Satta” with a new release. After all “Satta” means relax in Jamaican patois and the German duo are well-known for their totally-chilled approach to music and life. The rush of daily life might be the driving force for our world but Boozoo Bajou have decidedly opted to take it slow.
The laidback feel of their sound reflects the eased-out attitude and pace with which the Boozoo´s produce their music. Good things simply take time and “Dust My Broom”, meaning to make a clean sweep, marks a fresh new chapter for Boozoo Bajou. Firstly, they’ve parted ways with Stero Deluxe records and joined K7. Secondly, their sound has expanded into blues-influenced vocal territory, with some of their musical heroes like Willie Hutch, U-Brown and Tony Joe White appearing on the album.
Boozoo Bajou have left the lounge behind for the swamp and the resulting blues-meets-dub-meets-downtempo sound is a tasty gumbo straight out of the bayou. “Dust My Broom” is seeped with the trademark laidback Boozoo vibe but is not a rehashing of “Satta“. Yet at the same time, the classic Boozoo sound remains with deep, cinematic textures, a dub sensibility and strong songs.
Boozoo Bajou convey the essence of various roots music styles to the surface and show their intrinsic affinity, no matter if it´s reggae, soul, blues, folk, jazz or original r´n´b. The big bracket that combines the roots cultures with Boozoo Bajou is dub – that particular technique that emerged in the early seventies in Jamaica. A technique that cultivated the dissection and rearranging of music, which is now masterfully applied to the contemporary by Boozoo Bajou.
Mundovibes spoke with Boozoo Bajou’s Peter Heider and Florian Seyberth from their fishing shack, deep in the heart of Alabama.
Mundovibes: You guys have a DJ set tonight at what are you going to be dropping?
Florian: It’s at the deep space Cielo, with Francois K. We played there last year and what I really like about this place is you have so much freedom of what you can play. So I would say the fist hour would be very low and a lot of deep, roots reggae tracks, some dub cuts and some very low, deep soul tracks and take off very slowly.
Mundovibes: Which is what you are all about.
Florian: Yeah, take the time for that, not a hurry.
Mundovibes: It’s been a few years since your first full-length “Satta”. What has changed since then in terms of what you are doing?
Florian: It sounds totally different compared to the first. And after we put this record out we thought “it’s impossible to do a second Satta”. And we have some different tools and it just came out a totally different sound. And on the other end it was working with singers, like Top Cat, and it was a totally different way of working. And we moved into our studio, the studio before was a very big one, now it’s a very small one. And there’s a lot of influences from that you know?
Mundovibes: Would you say one of the biggest changes was more collaboration.
Florian: Definitely, because when you only do instrumental tracks you have 100% control. When you have singers they give the lyrics and we had several tracks where the wrote the song.
Mundovibes: For ‘Dust My Broom’ you have so many interesting collaborators. How did you find these guys?
Florian: Well, we are fans of them and one of our managers, Willie, found them by looking for over a year constantly calling them up like every day. Hunting them like bounty hunters.
Mundovibes: What is it about the blues and southern music that inspired you to do so much of it on “Dust My Broom?”
Florian: It’s, how do you say, “every thing comes out of the blues”. So it doesn’t matter what kind of color you get, it gives it a background you know? You can find blues in reggae, in old soul tracks, funk can be blues. Everything can be blues, so we get all of the electricy from it.
Mundovibes: With “Dust My Broom” is the overall mood and the overall direction or mood you wanted it to be or did it just grow a certain way?
Florian: It should be more spread out this time, “Satta” was more one flow and this time we wanted to try different things out and because of the different characters of the singers we think that the tracks are really more diverse than before.
Peter Heider: The main thing is that we really like music with a cinematic kind of feeling. Our point is always to bring the little things up, it’s really important for us that the little musical things are strong.
Mundovibes: I read somewhere that you don’t really like playing fast music live because you cannot put in those “little” elements.
Peter: That’s true, normally we are more into the flow of the music and working in the studio is not like working on a track in a couple of days. We are working on it for maybe a couple of months and for us this is much more inspiring.
Florian: Slower things come more natural out of us.
Mundovibes: Do you feel like you’re moving and maturing beyond that lounge thing?
Florian: We’ve always been outside of this. People that do this same kind of stuff, Tosca and Peter Dorfmeister, was really supporting us but we didn’t have too much contact with the people. We only saw them if we went to Berlin but there was never a lot of contact with other groups. That was the scene which was really supporting us four or five years ago when we did “Satta”.
Mundovibes: You are both musicians, you play instruments right?
Florian: Me not, I never learned how to read notes and stuff, it’s just instinct.
Mundovibes: Do you feel it’s very important, the live element?
Florian: Of course
Peter: For me, I’m doing the instrumental part of most of it or we organize musicians to do it. It’s good for me just to concentrate, to work with an instrument with Florian beside me telling me what to do or what to leave out.
Mundovibes: Considering all of the people you’ve collaborated with and all of your influences, I read again that you define yourselves as ethnomusicologists. Can you tell me what you fell about what you are doing with the music?
Peter: Overall it’s really to use the different kinds of elements and we try to do it with a lot of respect, you know? And not with just a little trick or a little sample to make it more sophisticated or progressive or something. Really, we try to keep it very respectful. We are mostly influenced by the musical culture of America or Latin America or Africa so this is what we work with.
Florian: For us older records are more interesting than the records that come out now. Now the only major thing is how they use a sample, you know? So, it’s mainly the old music that interests us.
Mundovibes: You worked with someone like U Brown who is so famous and now, instead of sampling him you’re working with him.
Florian: Yes, this was a very nice opportunity.
Mundovibes: What did these guys think when you wanted to work with them? Were they very receptive?
Florian: No, I would say no they’re not really open to that, many because they’re old you know?
Peter: They don’t really know what’s going on here (laughter).
Florian: Maybe we’re surprised sometimes, but they’re just trying it and then hopefully they’ll like it. Most of them we got personal contact with. It was very important to get a common vibe but there were some situations like Willie Hutch, we never met him and we just sent him the track. But this track was not so very progressive or out there you know. We thought that he wouldn’t be comfortable with that.
Mundovibes: Will you be putting together a live band or do you have one already?
Peter: No, we don’t. Nobody is paying for it and we need a big band to do that, but we are doing it as a sound system with a DJ and a singer. But to put together a band is difficult and we would rather be in the studio working on new material.
Mundovibes: What remixes are you doing, since that is such a big part of your work?
Florian: We did a couple of remixes recently, one for Nickodemus, one for the Funky Lowlives and some bootleg stuff–we mixed Jamaican and blues elements.
French Algerian born, Jerome Derradji moved in the America six years ago. Now living in Chicago, Jerome created his very own independent label Still Music – a boutique label that has been making a few waves internationally since its inception. With early praise from DJ / producers like Laurent Garnier, Rainer Truby, Charles Webster and magazines like BPM, XLR8R, Grooves and Straight No Chaser to name a few, Still Music is proving itself to be one of the more exciting imprints around. Still Music has strong ties with rising talent such as Frenchman Bruno Hovart aka Patchworks and was the first label to release a record from Amp Fiddler’s Project CAMP AMP. The labels other ties with Detroit were also strongly showcased on the excellent album (and forthcoming DVD) In The Dark. As a DJ, Jerome has played and promoted countless parties in both Chicago and Detroit with the acts like The 3 Chairs (Moodymann / Theo Parrish / The Godson / Malik Pittman), Amp Fiddler, I:cube, Jimpster and many others. His eclectic style is similar to the music released on Still Music: from techno to afro via deep jazz and disco with a strong touch of Detroit House. Jerome is resident at the Chicago Demon Days party. (bio courtesy of Demon Days)
Mundovibes: Can you give us some background on yourself and why you started Still Music?
Jerome Derradji: I’ve been involved in the music industry since very young, my first DJ gig was at 15 and I started my own band at 18. I bought my first record when I was 12. basically music was always around me and i always wanted to start a label. Kinda fascinated with vinyl i must say – mostly jazz and soul. After I moved to the US, I found myself working for numerous music related jobs and I ended up working at Groove Dis where Dirk (van den Heuvel)gave me a lot of room to start P&D’s there. I basically got the confidence that I could start my own imprint from that experience. I started Still Music simply because I wanted to release and expose a side of the electronic music scene that i believed needed more exposure.
MV: What types of music does Still Music represent?
JD: Pretty much everything “soulful”. It can be a dirty house track from Detroit or a jazzy tune from France, it makes no difference to me as long as it has soul. I try to get Still Music to represent music that can actually speak to you at anytime. basically I like to see the label as a medium between each artist and their public.
MV: What is the label’s mission?
JD: Our mission is to grow so we can get our artists to grow along and develop more maturity in sound and creativity.
MV: You have both artists from Detroit, Chicago, Tokyo and Paris. Would you call Still Music a global label?
JD: Yes definitely, we also have artists from Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Italy….. no borders of any kind for us.
MV: Are you concerned with musical tradition at Still Music and how are your carrying it forth?
JD: As a musician, I believe that I understand the process of creation, this helps me respect and appreciate the works that I get from our artists. We have a lot of true musicians on board – accomplished keyboardists, singers, bass & guitar players – but I think that music can be made in so many different ways that only the result counts: how the final mix can carry on an inspiration, a message, a groove…. This is the basis for the A&R here. Music needs to make you wanna dance, cry, laugh, party, think…
MV: Tell us about the artists represented by Still Music?
JD: I find our artists to be very unique and extremely talented. The common factor is that each artist involved with Still Music gives his best towards the final product. Be it Amp Fiddler dropping some stunning soul tracks, Patchworks covering Brothers On The Slide to perfection or The Godson sharing an exclusive slice of deep Detroit house.
MV: How do you develop each release, what is the process?
JD: Mostly it happens like this: An artist will send us music, I listen to it around 200 times and then if we love it we basically sign it that day. After that i start thinking in terms of remixers, final production, marketing and sales projections. The idea is to create a piece of vinyl that showcases the best the artists has to show at that precise moment and what he inspires in other more established artists.
Each 12″ becomes a small LP of sorts.
MV: You have a uniqe grahic image. Who is repsonsible for this?
JD: I am and i am not. Back in France i went to art school for 10 years, i gained a strong artistic vision out of it. This really helps me everyday in taking design decisions for Still Music. I wanted the label to have a strong identity in sound and design which i think are totally linked. But all the designers involved with us really created our image: Julian Carow, Uncle Geez ( he did our logo), Scott Shelhammer (the fantastic paintings for Delano Smith’s 12″) and lately Richard Coulson from London (he did our superb site, our brand new t shirts and most of our sleeves)
MV: What is your strategy for marketing and promotions?
JD: Right now, being a small underground independent label, marketing is done mostly in house. The goal is to let the most people know about our releases the cheapest way possible! We have a great mailing list for the usual tastemakers and we also created a series of email lists that target different layers of population: from industry people to the electronic music afficionados… All this combined works pretty well and we have been able to get nice press, nice dj support and sales without going bankrupt hiring PR companies for a single 12″ release. I also think that releasing quality music is the best marketing strategy you can have… Djs playing our tunes everywhere in the world is what makes everything happening.
MV: How important is digital downloading to the label?
JD: It is important because even if it doesn’t replace traditional distribution, it complements it. At the end of the day our mission is to spread our artists’s music all over the map. Digital downloads allow us to be featured 24/7 on a ton of cool sites and be in a mainstream store like itunes while you will never be able to find a still music 12″ at virgin, which means that we can reach a totally different audience. It is essential for our artists and their music. Also if you take the South Korean example, there are almost no new cds or vinyl being manufactured, music is distributed mostly digitally!
MV: You have a sub-label in the works called “Past Due”. Tell us about this.
JD: I actually have two new labels in the works. Past Due is a project that i’ve been dreaming of for a long time now! With the help of Rob Sevier – aka the soul investigator- we decided to create a label that reissues mostly disco and modern soul from the midwest.
The entire concept is to trace a parallel between the past and today. Most of the artists on Past Due are totally unknown but they had a short fame at the time and their music is absolutely brilliant. We are going deep in this project. We managed to find master tapes and are scheduling heavy remixes. The entire idea is to pay our respect to artists that started it all and spread their talent around the world. We are scheduling a bunch of mad 12″ and a nice cd compilation this year. The second label is going to be a techno label, i guess being around Carl Craig and Gamall at the Demon Days party kinda rubbed off on me… we are scheduling a bunch of releases on this one too with some newcomers and also some cats straight out of UR…. Also to make sure i am busy enough, i do a lot of consulting for Ron Trent’s Prescription and Future Vision labels. Here I act as a production manager.
MV: Are you happy with the label’s success thus far?
JD: Definitely, Still Music went way beyond my expectations in a very short time. I truly owe that to all the artists that entrusted us with their music and all the people that support us and buy our records everyday.
MV: What are the current and forthcoming projects from Still Music?
JD: There is plenty to be released. Next week we are releasing the first 12″ from Benjamin Devigne, a nice piece of deep jazz & house that is getting a nice buzz and we’re already preparing his full length. We have a pretty full schedule for the next year or so:
Albums from Patchworks (featuring Spacek tbc, Amp Fiddler, Paul Randolph, Darius Rashau) & Paul Randolph (featuring Amp Fiddler, Moodymann…) are in the works right now. We have upcoming 12″s from Moses McClean from West End fame, Charles Matlock (our first Chicago signing) with Phil Asher rmx. Phil is also taking a spin at remixing the recently released On My Heart hit from Isoul8 and Paul Randolph. Rondenion just finished his new 12″ for us and it is mindblowing! We also just signed Gerald Mitchell from Los Hermanos (UR) for a very special 12″ that will ravish fans of Soul City and we are expecting a massive remix on this one – a secret for the moment. And we are also finalizing the release of IN THE DARK cd/dvd (with a 30 min documentary shot in Detroit), there should be a tour in the US and in Europe with Djs and screenings of the movie.
And there is a lot more coming, we are signing new artists every month, the biggest concern being how to release all this fast enough! Oh yeah, i’ve also been recently asked to get involved on the A&R level for a Bob Marley and Ray Charles remix project due to be released on a major label in the US. If we are lucky enough we may have a chance to see some of the mixes released on wax on Still Music…
MV: You are also a DJ. What are you sets like?
JD: Well it mostly depends where I’m playing. Pretty much you can expect deep soulful house music that dives into jazz, disco, acid house and ends up techno!
I also love to play straight African and Brazilian music – i opened for Seu Jorge , Boubacar Traore & Konono #1 last year and it was a blast to play music so obscure to most americans.
MV: What do see in the future for Still Music?
JD: A lot more releases and maybe a little more focus on album projects. I love releasing 12″ but it gets time consuming and leaves me feeling like there is still more music that needs to be heard…
Whether by luck or fate, Brazilian composer, band-leader and “madman percussionist” Cyro Baptisa landed in the right place at the right time. Like a Brazil-alien dropping from the sky, the São Paulo- raised Baptisa came to New York in the early ’80s just when “world music” (as we know it) was in its genesis. His prolific career has paralleled the rise of both world music and New York City’s avant-garde improv scene.
Arriving in upstate New York in the early ’80s, Baptisa studied at the global-fusion hotbed of Woodstock’s Creative Music Studio. Living on a communal farm and jamming alongside Don Cherry, Trilok Gurtu, Karl Berger and his idol, Nana Vasconcelos was a fortuitous and profound experience for Baptisa. Two months later he moved down-river to New York City, busking on the streets and subways to get by. The going wasn’t always easy but Baptista took inspiration from the energy of the city’s streets, channeling it into his style — one that ranges from maddeningly cacophonic to seductively gentle. From the streeta Baptisa had the good fortune of hooking up with John Zorn, a match of two equally offbeat minds.
New York became Baptista’s home, where’s he now lived for 22 years. It’s the place where he’s found his voice, working within the downtown scene, as well as with Herbie Hancock, Paul Simon, Cassandra Wilson and Laurie Anderson. His solo recordings includes “Vira-Loucos: Cyro Baptista Plays the Music of Villa-Lobos”, which interprets a number of themes by the Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos. Like its title (translated: going crazy), it’s a wild reinterpretation of the composer that, as Baptista says, might have the composer rolling in his grave. Other projects include “Supergenerous”, a brilliant excursion in improvisation and acoustics with guitarist Kevin Breit and his most ambitious project, Beat the Donkey.
Baptista has reached a creative zenith with the 10-member group Beat the Donkey. This wildly entertaining and percussive ensemble takes its name’s translation —” let’s go, let’s do it” — to heart. It’s a hyper-meltdown of Brazilian rhythms mixed with rock, funk and everything in-between. For Beat the Donkey’s live show, Baptisa orchestrates a continuous flow of energy: drumming, dancing, Capoeira performance, singing, and a DJ, for a musical spectacle unlike any other. Recently touring with Phish’s Trey Anastasio at Radio City Music Hall, Beat the Donkey created a traffic-stopping marching from the stage out onto 6th Avenue for a giant block party and samba drumming session with the entire audience. Beat the Donkey’s self-titled debut does a spectacular job capturing the groups intensity, covering the full spectrum of possibilities. The recording was recently selected by tne New York Time’s Neil Strauss at one of 2002’s best alternative albums.
Nailing down Baptista is a matter of a few phone call attempts — after all this is a busy man. But, upon contact, Baptista is as irreverent, engaging and receptive as his music. During the conversation Baptista’s sense of humor is ever-present, with his uproarious laugh marking many of his responses. Here’s a serious man who doesn’t take himself too seriously and a man who really lives his music.
In addition to his impressive accomplishments, Cyro Baptista is one funny guy as the following interview reveals. If he can’t win your over with his music, he’ll surely do so with his disarming laugh.
MV: I’d like to discuss a little of your history — at one time you studied in Woodstock. Can you tell me about that?
CB: That’s funny because I just went to Woodstock to record yesterday. That was at CMS, Creative Music Studio, that was a school at a farm and I was invited. And I was in the right place at the right time, because it had amazing teachers there, no? Nana Vasconcelos and Don Cherry and Trilok Gurtu and it was amazing people living on the farm. And I stayed there for like two months and I learned ten years of music. I was really lucky, you know, because it wasn’t like a formal school. It was ‘let’s play music’. I think it’s very difficult to teach music and it was great, I learned so much there. It was the beginning of this, what they call now ‘world music’. This was in 1980, that’s when people from many different cultures started to get together and say ‘wow, we can play together — it’s not so different, we have many things in common too. And that was my beginning. I stayed there and it’s great that now I can come back there and the people that founded this school, like Karl Berger and Ingrid Sertso, they were at the recording yesterday and then I came back and it was nice because we remembered the old times. And today I can help them.
MV: So, that was your introduction to New York?
CB: Well, I finished there and I had like seventy dollars in my pocket and I said ‘I’ll go to New York to spend the seventy dollars’. (laughter) ‘And I’ve been here for 22 years!’
MV: You really stretched that money!
CB: It was amazing, because I came to New York and I felt like it was my place, you know? I see people come to New York and the first day they arrive they hate it. But there are others who like it, and that was my case. Even if it was a hard beginning for me here. I started to play in the streets, from the street I went to the studio and everything’s happened, you know? You know what, when I give an interview, usually I say, ‘Oh, man, I played in the street, I lived in the subway’, and people don’t want to listen to that. They always want to hear, ‘Oh yeah, I came and suddenly I was playing with Herbie Hancock and Paul Simon’ (laughs). They like this part more than the other one.
MV: I’ve lived in New York and I know what a struggle it can be.
CB: But I was very lucky. It’s very nice, I came from the airport and went straight to Woodstock. And that’s beautiful for somebody who comes here. I came to New York, then I met (John) Zorn and he was starting this thing that they call downtown music today. With all these people, Marc Ribot, you know, and Joey Baron. We started to play in the little clubs, then the little clubs turned into the Knitting Factory and people started to like what we was doing — I don’t know how (laughther). But the city was great because I met all of the people that were crazy like me. You could go to the stage and shout or do whatever you wanted and incorporate that into the music — improvise, you know?
MV: Are your foundations primarily Brazilian?
CB: That’s what it is. And I think this is very important, to have a foundation, your thing, no? That I can stretch, that I can go completely bananas with, strange, improvising music or rock and roll. Whatever, but I always have a home to come back to. It’s what keeps me kind of sane.
MV: Otherwise you lose track.
CB: I think it’s important that you build a foundation from your culture, no? It’s like in terms of percussion. I see a lot of it in America: people want to learn percussion from India, from this or that, and they don’t see that there’s amazing percussion here. Like, I learned how to play the washboard. It’s an amazing instrument and it’s that — you have a lot of beautiful things here.
MV: So, you basically experiment with your traditions.
CB: Yes, that’s what it is. I call them ‘modern traditions’ (laughs).
MV: On your CD ‘Beat the Donkey’ you play percussion, but you also sing.
CB: Yeah, I do. I don’t know if I should do that (laughs). But I call myself the Brazilian Frank Sanatra. That’s a joke. I work with percussion but I know there’s the traditonal people that play, and I respect a lot, like the Three Congas. The traditional way to be a percussionist, no? I see percussion more as like an orchestra sound. Percussion has harmony and melody there, it’s not just rhythm, no? And I don’t know, sometimes I think that I’m the only one who believes that(laughs). Especially when I go to the record company and they say ‘What is that you did? It’s just percussion, I don’t see melody and harmony.’ And I say ‘Yes, it’s there.’ But, then I start to sing to make the melodies more obvious.
MV: That is very much a Brazilian thing because the rhythm is so prevalent. The melody is played out in the percussive element.
CB: Yes. If you compare it with latin music — that’s very different. With Brazilian it’s much more simple, no? Like, if you see they (Latin music) have the congas, the timbales, the cowbell, it’s not many elements but they are very complex. And in Brazil it’s like they have very simple parts but there are like 200, 300, sometimes 3,000 in the carnival playing together. And that is a different way to build up the polyrhythmn. And it’s simple parts but many people — and I like that. I like this kind of celebration mood that it creates.
MV: Talking about that in relation to “Beat the Donkey.” Is that a concept that just came out of the blue? How did it develop?
CB: Well, you know, in Brazil the percussion is very much a part of everyday life. Like the guy who drives the ambulance is a percussionist. When you’re eating at the table — I remember my father beating the table, doing the rhythm. I mean, it’s all the time. And that’s what we talk, having many people playing together and I always wanted to be involved with that. You know, we live in this time for me where you can sit in front of the computer, like I see so many people that I work for — alone. And you can do a whole album sitting in front of the computer and you have all the instruments in the computer. I remember when I first came up with idea for “Beat the Donkey”, I asked for a percussionist and he said ‘But why Cyro do you want ten people? Me and you, we can do this alone.’ And I said ‘Well, we can, but that’s not the idea. It’s like I wanted to do something together. Music is that. Now we watch TV, play video games, and all these things we do alone. There’s so many things that we do alone. And that’s what I want to pass with Beat the Donkey, no? Also, because when I play I have many instruments that I built with PVC pipes or with a Coca-Cola sign or with junk. And then I play and after the concert I have people who come to me and say ‘Oh man, I can do that too.’ In the beginning I used to get pissed off because it took me a long time to practice. But, it’s great that they feel that. I’m passing a vibe that “anybody can do that” and it’s true, anybody can do that. It’s something direct, it’s not like a guy who sits there doing a very complicated thing that you go home feeling ‘Oh my goodness, this guy’s a genius’, you know? That’s what I want people who go to Beat the Donkey to feel, ‘wow, I can be part of that, I can do that!’
MV: And with the huge ensemble that you have, you’re the orchestra leader or the band leader. You pull all of the elements together?
CB: Yes, I come with ideas: ideas I’ve had for a long time or fresh ideas and I ask for them to do it. And they start to do and it starts to become another thing (laughs), because percussion has that — it’s very easy to input on that. Everbody comes with their own experience and it’s not very difficult to be a band leader there. It’s a collective thing.
MV: How did the album come together?
CB: We were lucky. It was hard to get somebody to put the album out. At the time I started to do the album I was signed with Blue Note and then I brought this idea there and they said ‘but this is percussion’ (laughs). Well, now the album came out and yesterday the New York Time’s John Parelis put us on his list of the best 10 independent albums of the year. And that helps a lot. Also, I’m really grateful to Zorn who’s label, Tzadik, it’s on.
MV: You work with John Zorn in the studio on many projects, right?
CB: With Zorn, I met him when I came in 1980 and I’ve done 20 or 30 albums with him. Many soundtracks for movies — hollywood feature films to Japanese porno. We did everything you can imagine (laughs).
MV: So you’re obviously a man who can switch gears and wear many hats.
CB: Oh, man you don’t believe the collection of hats I have. It’s funny, I wake up in the morning and say ‘how I can do that?’ and how lucky I am, you know. The other day I was playing with Sting and now I’m doing an album with Yo Yo Ma, and also now I’m playing with Trey Anastasio from Phish. We played in Chicago in July! Man, it was a great concert. It was the best concert on the whole tour, it was amazing the people went bananas. For me, to play with Trey has been a great experience because I could be a grandfather of many of the people in the band (laughs). I’m the oldest person in the whole venue!
MV: How did you connect with Phish?
CB: They called me and I said what’s this? Because at the time I was playing with Medeski, Martin and Wood. Billy Martin used to study with me when he was young. And then he said, ‘play with me and my band’. I went to play and I ended up falling into this vibe of music. It’s new for me and I love it. It’s young people and they are doing something that I really respect. They don’t depend on record companies, they don’t depend on nobody and they are huge! We did the the Bonnaroo Festival in July. They kept me for the tour and they said ‘oh, man we’re gonna play this Bonnaroo, it’s gonna be the shit, it’s gonna be great’. And I said, what the fuck is this?’ And then we go out there and it was like 70,000 kids going apeshit! Going really crazy and it amazing. Nobody knew how these people got there in the middle of Tennessee in a place that’s nowhere, with no record company behind, no nothing. It’s amazing what these guys do, no? They don’t depend on selling albums, they do a show and a lot of people go.
MV: It’s good to know that music can thrive outside of all the problems with the music industry.
CB: These guys from the music industry, they’re gonna go down. I’m sure that they’re days are numbered. I played like three years ago, I did an album with Herbie Hancock, “Gershwin’s World” and we won a Grammy for it. Then I started to tour with him, and he’s a great guy, we ended up being good friends. And he told me, ‘Look I told these guys 15 years ago, either you change or you’re going to go down. Things are going to change.’ And they don’t want to change. They are crying that the kids are downloading from the internet. And yes they are downloading from the internet and that’s the way it’s gonna be. Everything is changing. It’s gonna be a different way to divide the cake, no? The musicians of the young generation don’t need to pass for what I pass, you know? And I hope so, it looks like it’s gonna change for something better.
MV: Well, another record you did, which I belive was your first solo record, was “Vira Loucos”. How did that recording come together?
CB: “Vira Loucos” was my first album, and I was so scared (laughs). Because I’d played on so many albums, no? With many people and many albums that they know in the show. And I didn’t want to do another album that’s gonna be like that, you know? And then I was in Miami to do a concert with Michael Tylson Thomas, who’s the conductor of the San Francisco Philharmonic and he was doing a program on Villa-Lobos. And, believe it or not, these people invited me but I went there to do a solo in the middle of the concert, and then I stayed with the orchestra in the middle. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the opportunity to do that, but it’s the most amazing thing you can do is to be in the middle there. Because different sounds come from the sides — it’s amazing. And I knew Villa-Lobos, but not much. And then this day I thought ‘this guy’s a motherfucker’. And I said I’m gonna do an album with his music because it had so much percussion there. And that’s how I decided. Zorn said ‘No man, that’s great, let’s do it’. And I did it in like three days. We went to the studio, we prepared a lot before, but ‘boom’ we did a mix and I was very happy with the results.
MV: Well, he’s been more recognized in North America in the last few years as a great composer.
CB: Yeah, he’s considered one of the ten best composers. Like I say on the album, I don’t know maybe he’s turning in his grave by what I did to his music (laughs). It was great and to this day it’s still selling.
MV: You’ve done quite a bit of work with Cassandra Wilson? It’s amazing that you can create something like ‘Beat the Donkey’ that is very experimental and brings in so many elements. And then you can really tone things down and really get very serious.
CB: I think one of the reasons Cassandra called me was that she knew what I could do in terms of percussion and being more orchestal percussion sound with organic instruments. And then she called me for the first album. I didn’t know her very well but she called me to do arrangements for percussion — that’s how I first met her. And it was a funny story, because I went the studio to do these songs that I arranged for five or six percussions. And I said ‘look, the thing is very easy, you play this part’. But they don’t want to do that. You know how the studio is: no window, no woman, it’s a very hard place. And you have some ego happening there. And I saw that the situation was heavy, no? Then I start to tell some jokes and then I start to do some imitations of like, a Chinese percussionist, a Puerto Rican percussionist. I did that and then they relaxed and then they played. Then passed like three or four months and the producer Craig Street called me and says ‘look Cyro, your song is on the album’ And I said ‘which song? I never wrote a song.’ And he says, ‘no, you remember the imitations you did? We recorded that and it’s going to be on the album.’ And I said, ‘no, don’t do that’. But he said ‘it’s too late, the label loved it and it’s there already.’ I said ‘Oh, shit!’ But I thought, maybe nothing’s gonna happen, let’s forget about it. But then it sold 300,000 right away! And, well, I think I made more money with that tune then I did with all my other tunes combined (laughs).
MV: What sytle do you prefer? Jazz or world or improv or what?
CB: I like what I’m doing at that moment. When I was younger I used to say, ‘oh, I hate this kind of music, I’m never gonna play that’, you know? And then later I was playing that with all my heart (laughs). Then I learned, no, don’t say that you prefer this to that. But I like it a lot when I play and I’m feeling like I’m playing with friends. That’s very important for me. Like, I played with Laurie Anderson. Well, that’s great, it was like friends for life. Like with Herbie (Hancock), he’s a Buddhist and I turned into a Buddhist. You know some people and it’s not just music you’re doing but you’re like living together and then you bring that to the music. Sometimes this is more important than the music, no? Because I think that’s what people want. And going back to Beat the Donkey. Like my siter, she’s a biologist and she went do research with the Indians in a park in Brazil that nobody can go, it’s closed. And I told her ‘look, you’re going to see the Indians? Any instrument you find, you bring to me! I want to know what they do.’ And then she came back with this little piece of wood with a little gourd on the top and with a string with a piece of teeth of an animal. And then you shake it and you can barely hear the sound. And I said ‘what is that? This doesn’t make any sound’. She said ‘yeah, but six o’clock every day 2,000 get together and start to shake that’. And that’s the shit, because these are not musicians, it’s like a people who get together at a certain time of the day and do a sound together. That’s what man is, it’s this tribal thing that we have forgotten that we have inside us, you know? That’s what I want people to listen to with Beat the Donkey, that we still have fire that we can get together and rock the shit.
MV: Experiencing Beat the Donkey live was just that. It was really being part of something.
CB: Yes. But then when I play with these big names, I like if they do that. I don’t like when it starts to be all going through the moves. But it’s amazing. Like, I played six years with Paul Simon with an amazing band: with Michael Brecker, Steve Gadd, Richard Tee, and we played every night for 20,000. At one date we played for 750,000 in Central Park. And I learned a lot about that, but I also learned a lot from the Indians.
MV: You studied with Nana Vasconcelos. Was that in Brazil or New York?
CB: I knew Nana’s work and then that’s why I told you, when I came to Woodstock, luckily he was there. It’s amazing that this happened. And Nana turned into my master. Today I look back and I see that I’m so lucky to have that, you know? I don’t know if people still have that, knowing somebody who you learn from. And it’s very important to learn from somebody you really love, you really respect. And I learned a lot from him, and he turned into my best friend and till today we are comapadres. And we cook every week together, bacalau and this was the most important thing I learned with him. I even mention this on the album. I dedicated my album to him. Now he’s living in Brazil but he’s still a good friend. And, I learned so much with him, we did a band together that’s called the Bush Dancers. And we did an album called “Rain Dance” on Antilles. It’s very difficult to find but it’s an amazing album. We played for like three years together, in Europe and a little bit in America. And we did many things, we did soundtracks for movies together. It was great because I learned from him and I played with him, I did the whole cycle. I learned so much, the business too because it’s very difficult: to make music is great but the business is one of the lowest businesses on the planet, it’s really dirty. You need to know how to keep your creativity and to be honest with your creation. And also deal with this mafia, these gansters! (laughs).
MV: Yes, like the guy who’s running this country right now.
CB: Even Bush cannot help them anymore (laughs).
MV: Do you check in on the scene in Brazil at all? Is there anything going on that interests you?
CB: It’s hard for me because I’m here for 22 years, I’m so involved here. Before, when I played with Brazilians, they’d say ‘Oh, you turned into an American!’ and I used to get really pissed with that. But, no. Now that I’m getting older I said ‘Yes, I have a part of my heart that’s American’. You cannot live in a place for this long and feel like you hate everybody. A lot of my music is the sound of the subway and the lights of the street in New York, no? Many of these things inspire me. But, I think there are amazing people in Brazil. Like Marisa Monte, she’s an amazing singer, incredible. I played on her album. Or Chico Science? He died but all that movement! When I went to Brazil I went to Pernambuco, that’s Northeast of Brazil. That’s a cool place! Amazing music, so many different types of tradition in one small place. In one night you’ll see so many things it’ll blow you mind, you know? I believe in the planet, earth, there’s some places that have musical energy and maybe has others that don’t and I’m sure parts of Brazil has this energy gravitating there, like New York has. Even if now New York has turned into a Disney World it still has it.
MV: What are your thoughts on Gilberto Gil becoming Minister of Culture?
CB: Oh man, it’s amazing. I read it in the paper and I got so happy. I played with him and Nana in Brazil not long ago at a percussion festival there in Bahia. And he’s a geat guy — just to talk with him. He’s full of light, you know? And it’s funny, he’s been my idol. He always was the opposition, like they threw him out of Brazil. It was funny, his first words were ‘I always was throwing rocks in the window. And now I’m the window.’ (laughs) I don’t think they got Gilberto Gil because he was a big name and a pop star of something. He has experience, he’s already worked in politics. He did all these things in Bahia, working with the culture. He’s a guy who’s really into that. For me, to see a guy who’s a musician, especially in Brazil, is amazing because that’s totally opposite what a musician was in Brazil. I remember when I started to play, I used to go in the street after the gig and go eat something. And suddenly the police arrive and they say ‘OK, show the papers you work’. And I had my union card and I’d show it and they’d say ‘A musician, no. I’m asking what’s your work?’ And maybe the best Brazilian musicians are driving cabs. And now, Gilberto Gil doing that, that’s amazing because Brazil has a new awareness of what they have with their music. People love Brazilian music, everywhere I go. I go to Turkey to do a concert and there’s some place in Istanbul where they’re playing Brazilian music. You go to Japan and they have samba schools. In Germany they have like ten samba schools. If they knew that, but they don’t know.
Music has been a passage to many cultures for Su Hart and Baka Beyond’s leader, Martin Cradick. Sipping cafe con leche in a Cuban cafe on Manhattan’s upper west side, in town to promote their music, Cradick expels on the benefits of traveling as a musician. “If you’re traveling, then you’re a tourist. A lot of places people don’t understand what you’re doing because that’s just outside their comprehension. They couldn’t imaging just getting up and going around looking at places,” he said. “Whereas, as a musician you can turn up and play and you’re giving something to the people. And in virtually all cultures that’s an acceptable way to make a living. So, then you get accepted and can experience the culture from within.”
If crossing boundaries and uniting cultures is the basis of “world music” then Baka Beyond are its poster children. There is nothing quite like them, a melding of Northern European and West African musical traditions—a conglomeration of tribes, if you will. Their recordings piece together West African rhythms, Gaelic melodies, Breton Gypsy fiddle and the effervescent songs of their namesake, Cameroon’s Baka pygmies. Cradick and Hart, along with fiddle-maestro Paddy Le Mercier, form the core of Baka Beyond, with additional band members including master musicians Nii Tagoe, Seckou Keita, Pelembie and others.
Through all of their travels, Baka Beyond retain the spirit of the Baka people, with whom they are passionately attached. Cradick and Hart have been involved with the Baka since first traveling to Cameroon in 1992 and living amongst them in the forest, an experience which affected them profoundly. The adventure began with a BBC TV program on the Baka: “We were watching this program about the Baka, and what struck us was how central the music was to their lives,” explained Cradick in a soft Cornish accent. “At any moment it’s quite possible for all the Baka to sit down, start singing and playing music together. In England we really love just sitting around playing music, so to see this group of people where it was so central caught our fancy. We said, ‘we must go there.’”
As circumstances would have it, Cradick and Hart were destined to have their wish fulfilled. “A year after that program, I was running some percussion workshops and this guy came in with a very interesting drum that was from the Baka. He was an anthropologist and had lived near them. Suddenly we thought, ‘this could be reality’ and we soon discovered that the Rivers Museum of Anthropology in Oxford had a sponsorship for people to study pygmies. So, we wrote them saying ‘though we’re not anthropologists, we have experience as artists in communicating non-verbally. And they paid for us to go there on the first trip.”
This wasn’t the first time Cradick had crossed boundaries with his music. An accomplished guitarist and mandolin player, he’d been a member of the groundbreaking band Outback, which had done for the didgeridoo and Australia’s Aborigines, what they were about to do for Cameroon’s Bangombi (Baka Pygmies): give their culture and music a world stage. Outback’s two releases, Baka and Dance the Devil Away paved the way for Cradick’s future experiments.
Western Africa may have been a long way from London, but Cradick and Hart had their instruments and their music to connect with the Baka. The two went with little more than a tent, some instruments and recording equipment. They slept, ate and gathered as the Baka did and Cradick spent as many hours as possible playing with them, learning just how integrated the music is with their lives. “Sometimes they fish by building a dam and emptying out the river. There were some kids doing this, playing really. But when they’re emptying it with buckets, it’s totally in rhythm. And then you start hearing someone in the distance, singing along to the same rhythm. So, other people are singing along to it and all the activities in the camp are joined together. In a normal day, where there are people sitting around in a camp doing their jobs, they’ll almost subconsciously be doing it in rhythm, so that this music starts coming out of it. In playing music there’s always an element of telepathy and I’m sure they use music to enhance communication within the group,” said Hart. The rhythm of life, indeed.
But the music is fading, since the Baka, like most indigenous people, are threatened by outside forces beyond their control. The forests are being chopped down by logging operations, brought on by massive dept incurred by the Cameroonian government. “It’s changing rapidly. The forest is broken up and the intensity is going. That magic singing they do in the forest to make animals come so they’ve got food — they don’t do it anymore because of all the disturbance. As it breaks up, their whole knowledge and way of life is being dissipated,” explained Hart.
“The forest people’s situation is like the Aborigines. They had the land and lived in a natural way and then someone’s come in and taken it over. They have no land rights, even though they’ve lived in the forest before Cameroon was even a country. By law they’re not even allowed to chop down a tree or kill an animal, which has been their way of life for thousands of years,” said Hart.
But there is some hope, as futile as it may seem. Unlike many Western musicians who use indigenous recordings and samples in their music, Baka Beyond actually pay royalties to the Baka people. Their charity, “One Heart”, provides moneys and empowerment to the Baka. “The charity sends royalties back to them,” said Hart. “This helps them set up things to make their lives better. It’s made it possible to have the worst things in their lives changed – like not having identity cards. If you have a card then you’re a citizen, so now they can go into town without being arrested. What we’re trying to do with our charity is give them a choice, so they can have control over their lives.”
Their mission doesn’t stop there. Hart also runs a “Rainforest Workshop”, a one day multimedia session of music, dancing and performance that involves participants in the culture of the Baka. Working mainly with school children, the workshop engages and educates, and hopeful enlightens a future generation.
The spirit and sounds of the Baka have been an integral element of the music, but as the band’s title suggests, Baka Beyond is a continually evolving unit, embracing influences and musicians from Africa and Europe. And there’s a simple message in Baka Beyond’s music: everything is interconnected. “There is a sharing of simple things, each little thing given by somebody and it fits in,” explained Cradick. “Using that as the basis, you can bring in musicians from different places and it fits together. This is the Baka Way.”
Baka Beyond’s foray into world rhythms has resulted in several recordings, including 1998’s Sogo, a collaboration with Senegalese and Ghanian musicians. “Sogo” is a Ghanaian drum also called “the Lightening Pot” due to its use to call the lightening spirit in times of drought. For Sogo Cradick invited four musicians from West Africa and four musicians from the Celtic fringes of Europe to join Baka Beyond for an extensive tour. During this intensely creative time of playing together, new songs evolved that are a fusion of individual talents and traditions.
The departure of Joe Boyd from Hannibal Records brought to a close their relationship with the label and their most recent recording East to West is released on their own label, March Hare Music. It furthers Baka Beyond’s Celtic-African fusion, as well as their collaboration with the Baka. The opening track ‘Awaya Baka’, a song written by Baka guitarist Pelembie, features a chorus sung by Baka children recorded in the forest. The next song, ‘Braighe Locheil’, is a Scottish song sung in Gaelic augmented by Senegalese kora and Ghanaian balafon, while ‘Wandering Spirit’ is based on a dance that the Baka asked Cradick to take to the world seamlessly combined with an Irish slipjig.
In addition to East to West, Cradick and bandmates Nii Tagoe and Seckou Keita have formed a new project, EtE (translated: triangle in the Gha language) and released an album in that name. Tagoe is from a leading family of master drummers and dancers from Ghana. He originally came to Britain as principal dancer and drummer in the Adzido dance company. and has toured with Adrian Sherwood’s African Headcharge and runs the Frititi troupe. He has a deep knowledge of the diverse dance and rhythmic traditions of Ghana. Keita is a griot, descended from the founder and ruler of Mali, Sundiata Keita. Seckou is deeply influenced by his indigenous role as an historian, carrying his tradition in his songs. Mixing traditions, ancient and modern, from the U.K., Ghana and Senegal, EtE is an exciting extension of the Baka Beyond sound.
In this incredibly shrinking world, could Baka Beyond represent the future of “world” music? Their inspired collaboration has achieved both critical and commercial success with bowing to cheap cliches. And by channeling back some of the funds to the people from which the music is born – does this signal a new model for others to follow? For the future of the Baka pygmies and all indigenous people who’s cultures are threatened, let’s hope so.
“Music is the only thing I know. It has the power to liberate one from whatever one wants to be liberated from.” – Cheb i Sabbah
Introduction from various sources
Interview by J.C. Tripp
Cheb i Sabbah grew up Jewish of Berber (Amazigh) descent in Constantine, Algeria, so the idea of mixing cultures was, you might say, in his blood. He moved to Paris in the 1960s, and, more or less by accident, became a DJ. By the late 1980s, he was pushing boundaries on the dance floor, seeking ways to work African, Asian, and Arabic music into the mix. Then, as the “world music” movement unfolded, Cheb i Sabbah took the inspired step of recording traditional and classical musicians himself and using those tracks to create bold, new creations—effectively, music “composed” by a DJ.
In the late 70s, Sabbah became acquainted with the late jazz maverick Don Cherry while touring with the famed “Living Theatre” in Europe. Kindred musical spirits from the start, it was no surprise when Cheb i Sabbah re-connected with Cherry in San Francisco. Cherry became his “mentor,” insisting that Sabbah had found his gift to the music world and that he stay with his path of spinning international sounds on the dance floor. From there, Cheb i Sabbah developed his concept of recording his own base tracks, always aiming for great music, not merely ethnic flavor. His first record, “Shri Durga” was created from tracks recorded with Ustad Salamat Ali Khan, one of the most respected classical singers in Pakistan, and his four, enormously talented sons. Salamat had long resisted pressure to record popular and even semi-classical music to expand his audience at home, but somehow, Sabbah won his confidence in a far bolder undertaking. This groundbreaking work was followed by MahaMaya (2000) and Krishna Lila (2002). Each album has its own distinct character. On As Far As (2003), Sabbah marshaled his complete repertoire of techniques into composing music, spanning three continents and nine languages. His DJ mix includes songs by Egypt’s Natacha Atlas, Guinea’s Sekouba Bambino, alongside his remixes of Don Cherry and jazz legend Paul Horn. This ambitious album set a new standard for bringing world music eclecticism to young listeners.
With “Devotion”, Cheb i Sabbah returns to India and the music of indu, Sikh and Muslim religious and ritual music. For Devotion, he traveled to New Delhi and engaged six leading vocalists, together with top local players of traditional string and percussion instruments, adding keyboards, guitar, electric bass—and on one track, banjo—to the mix. Some of India’s pre-eminent singers are featured on “Devotion”, including Anup Jalota, singer of Hindu kirtans and bhajans.Each vocliast sings in his or her own religious tradition, accompanied by Sabah’s arrangement of Indian and western instruments, rhythms and textures. It’s the pure essence of India filtered through Sabbah’s sublime touch.
Cheb i Sabbah now enjoys a worldwide reputation as a producer and a magician of the dance floor. On stage, he improvises his show using pre-composed tracks and massive, projected visuals, interwoven and juxtaposed as the spirit moves him. Sabbah believes in presenting his one-of-a-kind works to audiences in person, just as he did in Paris in the 60s, with a stack of 45s in front of him. Sabbah remains a DJ at heart, but he is also something more—one of the most innovative forces in contemporary dance music today.
Mundovibes had the opportunity to speak with Cheb i Sabbah on his musical journey after the release of “La Ghriba”, an album of remixes of his seminal release “La Kahena”.
MundoVibes: Man, you’re always stepping up and doing bigger and better things!
Cheb i Sabbah: Well, we try to stay inspired (laughter).
MV: Absolutely. I’ve been listening to “La Ghriba” and the remixes are phenomenal, they’re all very interesting re-interpretations.
CS: Yeah man, I also feel very happy and blessed that all of them turned out like that. You know, all different kind of flavors.
MV: Are these friends and new collaborators?
CS: I would say they are all friends, some are newer friends, for example the rappers Tahar and Farid, who did “Sadats: The Sufi Sonic Remix” I met in Marrakech just walking around with my friend. And then my son being a rapper himself, he did a duo with them and then he did a couple of live shows in Marrakech with like 3,000 people outside. And they were like the happening group, you know in Morocco.
MV: And then you worked with the rap group Fnaïre?
CS: Those guys I met when I was actually recording “La Kahena” and then when it came to remixes, I like what they do because they call it “hip hop tradicionale” so they use stuff from their country and then they put their lyrics to it. But I always liked what they do and then I did a couple of shows with them and then I thought ‘man they should do a remix’. DJ Sandeep Kumar is a Bhangra DJ in L.A. and he opens for me when I do Bhangra parties in L.A. which I’ve been doing lately. It’s been very successful and it turns out that L.A. is the biggest South Asian following I have which is pretty big for not being South Asian.
MV: But you’re strongly associated with that.
CS: Yeah man, because of the previous album and because of those bhangra parties. So, who else? Well, of course, like Bill Laswell, those people I know. Yossi Fine I know what he did and he ended up working a lot with Karsh Kale’s latest album. He was in San Francisco and I was like ‘is there anything you like on La Kahena you want to remix?’ And he was really psyched and came up with ‘Jarat Fil Hum: The Chalice Remix’. Temple of Sound are old friends you know? With Natasha Atlas and the U.K. kind of underground, they are like family for me. Who else is there, Gaurav Raina is one of the Medieval Pundits and he’s my engineer also. And The Chakadoons is the main guy and remixer for Quincy Jones.
MV: So, this group is international then?
CS: I guess so, you have India, you have the U.K., you have America, Morocco, South Asian origin like Sandeep, Yossi is Israeli. I never thought of it that way but it is an international crew.
MV: Tell me about your feelings about the whole remix concept, because it really has become essential for a lot of recordings.
CS: Yeah, it started like maybe 10 years ago it was like any innovative artist would see the use and the advantage of having a remix done, which is a different interpretation of their song but maybe more geared toward the dancefloor. And to me, because I am a DJ also, I’m not a musician in terms of having a band or I sing or I play an instrument. So, being a DJ I’m always on the dancefloor anyways, sometimes three or four times a week. So I have this ability to test everything right away. I don’t have to wait until whatever you know? I’ll tell you a little story. This happened a few times where my friends would play with their bands like somebody from Senegal or whatever. And I would be part of their show, opening or closing for them. And I would play one of their tracks and speed it up eleven percent. And they would hear the track, they would see everybody on the dancefloor and they’d go ‘God, what is this? I know it’s my song but what happened’ you know? So, they’d come in the DJ booth and go ‘what is it?’ and I’d say ‘it’s no big deal but it’s your song sped up 11 percent. They’d go ‘fuck man’. (laughter). Because, you know, with CD players the key doesn’t change you know? It doesn’t sound like chipmunks but it’s a faster BPM. So, from there I think people realized that to have a different interpretation that is more geared toward the dancefloor is another way of looking at that same song.
MV: And La Kahena is not really a “dance” recording.
CS: I would’t say that! It all depends, yeah if you play a club where it’s all house heads maybe it’s a little too esoteric but even then, what is dance and what is not dance? So, I think ‘La Kahena’ is fully dance, but then again it’s fully dance for some and not for others. It’s like, trance works for trance people because it works. I think all music works but it depends on what kind of environment, what kind of chemicals people might be on or not (laughter). So all of that ends up where ‘is it dance music or not?’ Nobody is there to say what is dance music and what is not. Of course there’s traditional elements but besides the traditional elements the beats are there, the bass is there. So, is that not dance music? Why? In Morocco it’s certainly dance music.
MV: Right. I guess, as you said, from a house head’s or some body who is all about the four-on-the-floor beats it’s different. But that’s really who you are, somebody who works with a lot of elements to create a mix.
CS: Yeah, and go there and record those musicians. I don’t take a little Arabic sample because it’s fashionable and it’s cool and then build around a little sample. It’s another approach, I think ‘La Kahena’ has what 43 musicians on it altogether. So, it’s that kind of effort to actually keep the tradition alive but give it a modern approach.
MV: Many of the vocalists for “La Kahena” were Moroccan?
CS: Yes, Moroccon, Algerian and Yemenite.
MV: And that’s quite a diversity within that region.
CS: Yes. The thing is, in Morocco you have some many different styles of music and some of it is greatly influenced by West Africa. Because of the history of bringing in slaves to Morocco from where we call Equatorial Africa. So, Morocco has a lot of those rhythms from West Africa plus it has a very complicated history starting with the Berbers and the Jews. Way before the Arabs and the Muslims. For example, if you take the Tuareg or what we call the “blue people”, a people that traditionally used to cross the desert with salt and bring it to sub-Sahara, which is Mali and Niger, all of those countries that are right below the desert. So, Morocco is very rich that way because of this whole history of people going in and out and leaving, staying. So, this is what you have now. So, for me Algeria wasn’t as easy to just go there and make a record but Morocco was a lot easier than Algeria. So, I ended up going to Morocco, althought I do have some Tuareg singing in there. I have Cheba Zahouania, she’s the biggest rai singer from Algeria. And, this is the best I could do. Of course, one album is really limited to try to represent many styles and I think that’s the strength because if I were to make an album with just Cheba Zahouania then to come up with eight tracks with her is more of a challenge, although the challenge with La Kahena was the records and artists I used is pretty raw, playing and recording and all of that. Because they are not people that go in studios every day or are session musicians. So, that was the other side of the challenge. At the same time, each song is such a different style — I think that’s what worked.
MV: Now, for you, is this kind of going full circle? Going back to Morocco and Algeria, since you had left there.
CS: As a teenager, yes. But I can always go back to India, I could go back to Mali and make a record. Time and money is always limited, that’s always what we lack the most. But in eight years with Six Degrees there are now six albums, you know? There’s only so much you can do.
MV: That’s very prolific.
CS: I also think it’s good when things happen one at a time and slowly because then there’s more for the future than all of it happening at once. It’s a different attitude but I think this one works for me.
MV: It’s beautiful material. Your DJing is such a central element in who you are and I’d like to ask you some questions on that. First of all, your history in San Francisco and Lower Haight and Nickies, what is the significance of that?
CS: There’s a little story about me being a DJ again in San Francisco, because I had been a DJ twice before. So, this was the third incarnation you know, as Cheb i Sabbah. I was working a Rainbow (San Francisco health food store –ed.) and I was the buyer of homeopathic remedies and Chinese herbs. So, I’m working at Rainbow and I made tapes, you know? So, I had this one tape I made of Raï music from Algeria. So, this tape was blasting at Rainbow on Mission. And then this guy is shopping and listening to the tape and goes to the counter and says ‘what kind of music is this?’. He is directed to me and says ‘hi, my name is Brad. I have this little place in the Lower Haight called Nickies. This is really cool.’ If you want to come and spin you can come on Wednesday night and try it out’. Cause I told him I had been a DJ. So, I showed up on the first Wednesday night which I think was a week before Christmas and that was sixteen years ago. And three weeks later there was a line outside. And Brad (original promoter of Nickie’s on Lower Haight and a pioneer in San Francisco’s acid jazz/world music scene –ed.). was at that time the person where every night the sound was what no one else was doing. And that was the cool thing about Nickies and from there I became a legend. So, that’s how I started.
The other thing that happened is that Don Cherry moved to San Francisco and I had known him for like 20 years. I met him when I was working with the Living Theatre, he came to a show and after the show I went to his hotel room. He was touring Italy with Naná Vasconcelos and so from there we became friends and we’d see each other whenever, in Paris, here there. And when he moved to San Francisco he asked me if I could be his manager, so I did that too. And then he lived on Divisidaro and Haight so every week he walked to Nickies and he was the one that actually helped me stay there because to tell you the truth I was like ‘yeah, this is OK but it’s nothing like Paris. The money or whatever.’ And he said ‘no, man, you’ve got to stay with it.’ And so helped convince me that I should stay with it. And from there I started to produce concerts from all over, Iraq, Morocco, Algeria, Guinea, whatever. And then I was on KPFA for like ten years, so it was a combination of being a DJ, being on KPFA and producing live shows. And then it wasn’t long after that DJs started to produce music. Because we might not play an instrument but we have an ear — we know what we want to hear. As opposed to musicians, DJs don’t play just their own music, they play every one else’s music. Anything that’s rhythmic, we are always hungry and looking for new sounds, you know?
So, the combination of all that, I started to produce and then I did a couple of remixes here and there. And then I started ‘Shri Durga’ on my own, with a credit card. And then I met Six Degrees and they heard like half of one song and said ‘no problem, we’ll put it out’.
MV: So, San Francisco has really given you a lot of opportunties with the scene there.
CS: Yeah, I think it was a case of ‘the right place at the right time’ but it’s what San Francisco is known for. It’s always been one of the places where you can do this kind of thing. This whole trajectory I’ve had, if I’d been in Paris 16 years ago trying to do that it would have been looked at as ‘huh, what is that thirld world shit’. Now it’s huge and it’s big but then it would have been looked at different.
MV: Well, you were definitely a pioneer in this, along with some others.
CS: I guess you could say that, yeah. I started a Nickie’s with vinyl and then I had a SONY walkman professional because I played cassettes. And then CDs started to come out and then I went throught at least six or seven discman professionals. So, I would have two turntables, one discman and one walkman, playing that music. Later on I became world music buyer at Ameoba in Berkeley. Trying to promote and present this kind of music and San Francisco is a good place for that.
MV: And it still is?
CS: Yeah, I feel it’s becoming a little bit saturated because what we are witnessing now is like everybody and their grandmother is producing now. Which is cool, there is room for every one but at the same time San Francisco is not New York, it’s not L.A., it doesn’t have millions of people living here. So, it’s somewhat saturated but the test is time, to see who will continue and who will not. And also, what DJs realize at the same time that without producing something well, you might have gone to Nickies and gone ‘man, this is great’. But someone in New York has no idea. Whereas when you start producing music then it goes out to the world. And that’s what brings the name out, by producing music.
MV: Well, now you an international superstar (laughter). I’m sure you are well known throughout the world and that must feel good.
CS: I feel like a rock star without the rock. I think the albums that were put out is what brought the name out. It’s the way it happens, it can’t just be from DJing at Nickie’s. It was good and it was the starting point for me again. Because if you asked me 20 years ago, what would I do in 2006 I wouldn’t have known man. I wouldn’t have said ‘I’m gonna be a DJ and producer’. You just don’t know.
MV: What are doing with your audience when you DJ? You’re not just entertaining them, you’re setting out to do something?
CS: I fuck with them man (laugther). First of all I’ve always felt that you spin and you play with the dancefloor, you don’t just do your thing and that’s it: ‘here’s my thing, you like it or you don’t like it’. I’ve always played with the audience and I think that comes from my theater background anyway. So, it’s always different, I never prepare any sets. I always try to bring new stuff in, play some of the old and the new. One of the flavors of this kind of spinning is that you’re dancing one song one continent and the next song is a totally different continent, differrent language and all of that. But at the same time it’s all very sophisticated dance music in the sense that it’s got everything that other dance music has. The bass is there — we have subwoofers too you know? (laughter).
MV: What other clubs did you DJ at that played a role in the scene in San Francisco?
CS: Club 1015, I have known Club 1015 and Ira Sandler the owner all those years. I used to do Sunday nights at 1015, I had my own night. I also used to spin in the front “gold” room on Friday’s, it was called “Martini”. So, I knew Ira all of this time but at the same time those kind of big clubs, the house clubs, the trance clubs, they don’t really give us a chance to play this kind of music on a bigger scale. But at 1015 there’s a crew here called “Dhamaal” which I’ve been working with since day one and I think we’ve done five parties every three or four months called “Worldly” and it’s on a Friday night and 1015 opens up for us like five rooms. I have headlined all of those shows and you know when you play that kind of music for 1,500 people in the main room with that kind of sound system. People who have never heard this kind of music, they always go ‘I didn’t know this kind of music existed!’. But at the same time I play small to medium sized clubs. And then after that it’s like festivals, it could be 10,000 people it could be 30,000 people that I spin for. But when it comes to the clubs with the big names with the two most-played styles, which we’ll call house and trance, I don’t know what it is. They think, what, world music is like this lower denominator? It’s like ‘fuck it man, I don’t play world music’. What is world music anyway? I never wanted to call it world music, it’s the worst. It’s like ‘do you play “world beat”‘. No man, I don’t play “world beat”. So, this is where we are and here and there you hear big name DJs, the really big name DJs. And they hear your stuff and actually like it but are they stuck in that one style and they don’t know how to get out of it? Or is it because they’re such big names it would be accepted because they’re playing it? But if you were to play there as an opening act, no that’s not really it man, we want the headliner because we know what that’s about. If the headliner played something you play, then it would be accepted. So, we’re still dealing with all of this ghettoization of ‘this style or music, that style of music’ you know?
MV: It seems to be even more so now.
CS: Yes, and I think it reflects the world, which is in a lot of trouble. But it’s a reflection of all those separations you know? There are a lot of things coming at us that we’re not in control of. But when it comes to music it does cross barriers in that mindset of clubs. I mean playing for 30,000 people at 1AM in Morrocco and everybody’s there, from kids to whatever, and everybody’s jumping is one thing. But, when it comes to those trance parties, those big house parties, they don’t allow us to come in and see what happens. But maybe it’s better, I don’t know. I’ve had some great opportunties to play like opening the Asian Museum or playing the Getty Center for 4,500 people or Summerstage New York where I’ve been twice opening for someone. So, those shows do come in all the time during the year. And I still haven’t touched Europe yet because the stuff I’ve done so far has not been well-distributed in Europe. Now it’s starting to come in so it’s like OK, when it wasn’t happening one could be depressed and say ‘oh, how come I’m not playing anywhere in Europe’. But, then again, I’ve played America and Canada, East Europe. If it’s going to start to happen in Europe then we do that now because I think it’s better to space it out. If things start to happen in Europe then fine. I mean I did play in Moscow, I’ve played in a few places in Europe but not like I play here and in Canada.
MV: That’s interesting because for a lot of artists they have to go to Europe to break out and then come back to the states.
CS: Right, and it’s also understandable that Europe already has a lot of South Asian and Arabic music. You know, the whole South Asian underground, and the whole Arab scene in all of the capitals, mostly Paris but also London. Everywhere man. A big Turkish thing in all of the German speaking countries. So, there is a lot more there than here. But then everybody’s different you know? I don’t think anybody does anything new, really. I think everybody’s taking something they’re inspired with and they put a new stamp on it. I don’t think anybody’s like ‘ohh, I’m the first one to do any of it’. I don’t believe that, you know?
MV: So that’s how you view yourself as well?
CS: Of course, it’s like you’re inspired by some sounds or some voice or something. Or by a style of music and then you do your own interpretation. But to say I’ve invented something is like ‘No, nobody’s invented nothing really.’ I think the main point is really, Don Cherry used to say it a lot, which is to really hear, you know? To hear what people are doing and hopefully the other people are hearing and that creates harmony. But the main thing is to hear. Hear and now.