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If I catch myself thinking I do mantras to make myself stop. It's all about an absence of thought. That's the way to let the higher shit through.
-Brian Haas |
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Photo by Josh Miller
The Architecture of Notes
There are many technically gifted musicians out there, especially in the jazz field which has always prized macho skill displays. What separates the wheat from the proverbial chaff is an artist's compositional talents. Jacob Fred has been crafting the new millennium's fresh standards for some time. Blithe charmers like "Thelonious Monk Is My Grandmother" and "Skeeball Over The Ocean" or dense tonal clouds like "Slow Breath, Silent Mind" or "Hover" contain all the inspirational dynamite of Dave Brubeck's "Take Five" or Kenny Clarke and Dizzy Gillespie's "Salt Peanuts," ageless springboards for instrumental imagination. Unfortunately, thus the jazz establishment has yet to dip their beak into these refreshing waters. The loss is theirs.
JFJO by Zack Smith |
"The more you hear, the more you know," observes Mathis, who describes his composing style as "melodic lyricism." This idea is not always easy to convey to others. "Some of the greatest music ever is coming out today. There's nothing as inspirational as hearing music that takes a cool angle you never thought of before. I can set out to deliberately rip something off but what comes out doesn't sound like what I tried to rip off. It's just a new song by Jacob Fred."
Smart continues, "I have decent harmonic knowledge but I think about it in a strange way that tends to be a lot simpler than the tunes Reed or Brian can write, which come from a deeper harmonic place. I think a bit more conceptually. Steve Reich is very important to me, his whole 'phasing' concept especially. Not a lot of rock or jazz bands use those techniques. I can't write a raging bebop tune with a million chords but I work with what I've got. It's more about textural things for me. It's more about dynamics, tempos, shifting Jackson Pollock kinda colors. That's the way I see and understand it."
Conceptual play – freely tossing around ideas - is central to Jacob Fred. They're unafraid to engage big ideas even if they ultimately find those ideas have wrestled them to the ground rather than the other way around.
Brian Haas - JFJO |
"Composing takes discipline, and that's something I'm constantly refining and exploring. You have to learn your instrument as a craft before it becomes an art. It's the same way with composition," says Haas. "Sometimes the composition flows and it's effortless art. But, sometimes when I'm composing on the piano at home I'm cruelly reminded it's a craft. I'm learning to practice composing like I practice piano. That's something I never did before. In the past, I thought, 'When inspiration comes I'll just sit down and write a great tune.' Sometimes that would happen and sometimes it wouldn't. What I'm trying now is what Coltrane did."
"We did years of showing our chops off and it got so stupid," adds Mathis. "If you go back to say Duke Ellington's great years it's not soloist-based music. It's harmonic narrative. Then you hear post-Aphex Twin electronic music and it's very much the same thing – emotional narrative through rhythm and harmony. It's not even really about melody. It's a narrative in sound. That seems to me the modern idiom for instrumentalists."
The Unfolding Now
The other side of the JFJO coin is their uncanny knack for satisfying improvisation. Where many improvs feel like exercises in noodling, what they do is closer to spontaneous composition, a birthing of newfangled beasts hairy with unfettered provocation.
JFJO |
"Night to night, tour to tour, we try to refine what we do, say more with less like a Thelonious Monk or Miles Davis," says Smart. "One note with the right placement, played with the right feel, can say more than some ripping chops guy burning around."
One hears their group chemistry most clearly in these unpremeditated exchanges. Smart comments, "Before I joined [JFJO] I was craving people who were fearless and make things up on the spot. It's unreal how 'In The Moment' they both are. Reed is just the best bass player I've ever gotten to play with consistently. Just the way we hook up is such a natural, beautiful thing. It's hard to describe how important he is musically in my life. Brian brings out an energy that's inspiring. The road can drag you down but he always comes to play. He never phones it in. He's always focused and tries to do his best. I really respect that."
"Both [Brian and Jason] are really confident improvisers," continues Mathis. "If I have a fault – one of many – it's indecisiveness. I can sit and ponder my options for years. These guys are so decisive they just plow ahead. That puts me at ease. Jason always has your back. He'll never drop you. Brian will never let you get too comfortable. So, together it's perfect. As a trio there are three elements. It's kind of a magic number. If there were two guys setting up and supporting things the way Jason does it might be too static. Or if there were two guys constantly pulling the rug out like Brian it would be too chaotic. I'm in a good position between the two. I remember going to see MMW back in the day and Chris Wood was set up in the middle. He'd spend the whole time with his head on swivel going back and forth between Billy [Martin] and John [Medeski]. And he was doing that musically too, kind of mediating. In a trio that's sort of what the bass does."
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