Warming Up

Warming Up
Showing posts with label Jimi Hendrix. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jimi Hendrix. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Innovators

This past weekend was a hot one in Philly which meant some time at the pool and some time at the grill. My two favorite grill companions are a good beer and some good music. Both were on hand last night. And dinner turned out great: grilled chicken topped with grilled fresh pineapple slices topped with some melted provolone; grilled potato slices drenched in paprika-and-nutmeg-infused butter and then topped with sour cream and fresh chives (this was the boys’ favorite – we’re gonna try a sweet potato version soon, I think); and grilled asparagus. Boy was it good!  But the thing that really knocked me out was listening to Bo Diddley play his original tune entitled (what else?!), “Bo Diddley.” Wow! I’ve had this tune on CD for a couple of year now, but it really hit me the other night. This track is crazy!! Check it out:

The sound of this tune is just insane. There is a raw-ness and a level of badass-ness to this song that I just haven’t heard almost anywhere else. I tried to imagine what it must have felt like to have been listening to the radio, or jukebox, back in 1955 when this song came out. It must have scared the crap out of people. That huge, reverbed-out guitar thumping that Bo Diddley beat. The maracas shaking like crazy in tandem with the bass-heavy drums. Then there’s the singing. It’s got a blues feeling. A country feeling (I’m not talking about Merle Haggard country – although that sure is nice, too – but country as in not urban). It’s got a swagger. But it’s deeper and more historic. It feels urgent and primal. It feels natural. It’s sexy and it’s badass. I bet the kids in the know back in ’55 must have shaken whatever they had dancing to “Bo Diddley.” And I bet their parents didn’t understand and didn’t like it one bit. The guy had a square guitar, for crying out loud. This is not music for stuffy grown-ups. And it must have sounded like nothing anyone had ever heard before. Because it was like nothing that had come before. This is some innovative music. And that got me thinking.

Some of my all-time favorite musicians are true originals. They don’t sound like what had come before. They are innovators. Some of my true favorites: Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, John Coltrane, Charlie Parker, Sonny Rollins, Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Duke Ellington, Gil Evans, and because this is more or less a trumpet blog: Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Clifford Brown, Roy Eldridge, Lester Bowie, Clark Terry, Dave Douglas, Woody Shaw, Don Cherry, etc. Really the list goes on and on in all genres of music. But the real thing is that these musicians created something on their instruments that had never been made quite that way before. And sometimes the music they created was extremely new, maybe shockingly new.

Sure, as I’ve written on here before, everyone has a daddy. There would be no Miles Davis had there not already been a Louis Armstrong. Jimi Hendrix wouldn’t have been Jimi Hendrix were it not for the blues and rhythm and blues bands and players that he played with and emulated. And I think it’s also important to note that these musicians didn’t just appear out of thin air, fully formed as innovators (the Beatles took a few years to really find their true creative path, but when they did, they became, on so many different levels, some of the greatest innovators of the 20th Century).
Instead they followed the model that Clark Terry always talks about: imitate, assimilate, innovate – most musicians never make it past assimilate. And if they are lucky enough to get past assimilate, then maybe they are lucky enough to become a stylist on their instrument – no small feat. True innovators are indeed a rare breed. They somehow go past what came before them and truly create something new.
How exciting it must have been to have been a young musician or music lover in the mid-forties and to have heard for the first time a Charlie Parker-Dizzy Gillespie side. That truly must have blown people’s minds. To have heard Armstrong’s “West End Blues” when it first came out. Wow! What was it like to have heard the early Beatles music only to then bring home the “Rain"/"Paperback Writer”single home and drop the needle? John starts singing backwards?!?! And those crazy Rickenbacker guitars!!

What about hearing “Purple Haze” for the first time?

 
Bitches Brew?
Ray Charles' “I Got A Woman.” This is powerful stuff! Original stuff. Like nothing that had come before. That’s pretty special. See what I'm saying here? Good food, good beer, and some Bo Diddley – the finer things in life.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Holiday With Hendrix

So the Fourth of July is almost here and as is tradition in my house (my wife and kids have to bear with me), I will be blasting several versions of Jimi Hendrix playing the Star Spangled Banner to celebrate the 4th. Most people have heard the Woodstock version, and yes, it is awesome. I will spin this one for sure. Here’s a video that someone made with the concert audio (I guess the Hendrix Estate won’t allow the film footage on YouTube):

 Some people thought that Hendrix’s rendition of the Woodstock anthem was unpatriotic and offensive. Naturally, Jimi disagreed. He was a paratrooper in the Army, remember. A Screaming Eagle. He was actually a pretty big patriot. He thought his playing of the Star Spangled Banner was a fitting tribute to his country (as do I). Check out Jimi on the Dick Cavett Show stating his case post-Woodstock:
Mad beauty indeed!!

But for my money, a more interesting, but lesser-known version is the one Jimi played at the Atlanta Pop Festival in 1970 – a year after Woodstock. The Atlanta version has a darkness and level of anguish to it that the Woodstock one doesn’t have. It’s moodier and more urgent. Jimi’s life was spiraling out of control at this point and he had less than three months to live. Check it out:

The whole entire show from the 1970 Atlanta Pop Festival is amazing and if you ever see a bootleg of it or if you come across the four CD (now out-of-print) set “Stages,” buy it! The fourth CD is the whole Atlanta concert. Worth every penny and then some.

And now here’s a treat that you may not have heard, unless of course you have the Rainbow Bridge Soundtrack album (I’ve got it on vinyl and CD) – the studio version of the anthem (mind the occasional cheesy graphics):  

There will be, and there can only ever be, one Jimi Hendrix. I am grateful everyday that I have his music as a big part of my life. Best wishes for a fun and safe and music-filled Fourth of July holiday!!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Reflections On Studying With Dennis Sandole

This is a long post and one that I’ve been writing little by little for a while now. Hope you enjoy…

I consider myself to be pretty lucky – I took weekly lessons from Dennis Sandole for almost three years (until he passed in September of 2000). I started studying music with the Maestro, as his students often called him (to his face I called him Mr. Sandole) in December of 1997. I had very good reason for doing so. My buddy, saxophonist Jon Cole and I had been in a band together at the University of Pennsylvania, and then we joined another band together called Fathead right after school. By the end of 1997 Fathead had been doing plenty of touring and my trumpet chops were getting worse and worse (I was never that serious about pursuing music and though I played throughout college, I rarely ever practiced – I was an English major). In between tours Jon had started taking lessons with Sandole and after only a month and a half he was already sounding better and playing some more interesting things in his solos. Meanwhile I was getting worse. My ego couldn’t handle that so I asked Jon for Mr. Sandole’s number; I called him and set up an audition. It was a good move for me and the next few years of study really impacted my life in a positive way.

I remember being nervous walking to the Maestro’s 1622 Spruce Street studio that first time. This was the guy that taught Coltrane after all! – and a bunch of other jazz giants (many of whom I didn’t know about at the time). When I went inside I realized that the studio was really just a big downstairs living room in an old (but really nice) Philly row home. Tall ceilings, wood doors and wood molding around the windows and walls. The carpet was a brownish color. Everything was kinda brown in there including the grand piano and the Maestro’s chair. In fact, Mr. Sandole was wearing a tan sports coat over a brown sweater and khaki pants. Even his hair, which I’m sure would have been white, had been dyed brown (!). I introduced myself, sat down, and was asked a bit about myself and what I wanted to learn. I don’t remember how I replied but I do remember that I was then asked to play something. I think I just made something up on the spot. It probably wasn’t very good. Mr. Sandole asked me a few more questions, “Who was your trumpet teacher?” “Frank Eisenreich in Pittsburgh.” “Well, Frank Eisenreich gave you a very nice tone on the trumpet. Did he teach you any piano or theory?” “No, not really.” “Well he should have. We will work on that.” I guess I had been accepted. Then Mr. Sandole told me about how his lessons were going to be structured, how I would need several music manuscript books (one for him and the others for me), and he also told me about payment for the lessons. It was $50 a lesson. You had to take a lesson every week – no skipping or taking once a month – consistency was the only way toward improvement. And the money was never to be discussed again. When my lesson was through I was to place the money (or check) on the right side of the piano keyboard. It was my responsibility to make sure that I placed the money there. If I was short one week I would make it up the next. “Do you understand?” “Yes.” “Then we don’t need to discuss this again.” Then he wrote my first lesson for me.

A cool thing about studying with Dennis Sandole - the lessons he wrote for me were just for me. They had never been written before and they were written specifically for me – geared toward my needs and weaknesses. I can’t speak about other students’ lesson material because everyone received personalized material that was created specifically for them and their needs.  That said, from what I can gather from other students, there were some structural things that most students’ lessons shared. Lessons were built on a four week cycle and the breakdown was often similar. Here’s how mine were built – and again, the elements of the Maestro’s literature (that’s what he called it, so that’s what I call it) I received were different than what other students received. Many (probably most) other students were more advanced than me so what they studied was probably heavier than what I had. “Stick with me, Bart, and I will take you to the heights of virtuosity.”
Week One – Chord Progression, Arpeggio, and Piano Voicings
The chord progression (called A1) was always written in 3/4 time - at least for me it was (I still don’t really know why – if any former students have an explanation for this I’d sure love to hear it) - and my progression was usually four or five bars long with one chord per beat. The Maestro would write a line that went with the chord progression. And a lot of the time there would be a weird scale at the end of this progression, maybe some strange altered scale that, honestly to my ears, usually sounded like an extension of the weird melody line that went with the four or five bar chord progression. My job was to memorize this four or five bar melody and transpose it into the other eleven keys. I’ve never been very good at memorizing and I think I got freaked out at the idea of having to memorize all of this music every week so I wrote out my exercises in all twelve keys. To get the most out of the material I should have memorized it. Sandole told me that Coltrane memorized his lessons in all twelve keys (he often took two lessons a week – eight years worth of literature in four years, Mr. Sandole told me). Bobby Zankel told me that he memorized his. Anyway, just playing through those melodies in all keys was a real workout – on the chops, but more importantly on the ear. I had never heard anything like those melodies before. They were so strange and weird to me, and thus, challenging to play.

Next up (A2) was an arpeggio that the Maestro gave me.  Memorize it and play it in all keys. This I could do. I didn’t play them fast, but I could play them without mistakes. Subsequent Week Ones would have me playing an inversion of the original arpeggio – again in all keys. This cycle continued every Week One until I exhausted the notes and started a new arpeggio.

Week One for me also included some work on the piano. “Don’t neglect the piano!” the Maestro told me. Sorry Maestro, I still neglect the piano (and it shows!). My piano material was originally just basic voicings – either for specific chords or for the A1 progression itself - but as time went on the voicings got more and more advanced. I should go back to that stuff now. I’m sure it would be really helpful.

So that was Week One.

Week Two - Substitute Chords, Ear Training, and Rhythm Studies
Week Two’s lesson began with Substitute Chords (B1) but after a while that morphed into Turnbacks. The same idea from A1 applies – a four or five bar melody line, but this time the chords in the second, third, fourth, fifth bar were all substitute chords for the first bar’s chord (Ex. Dmi7b5 and Fmi7b5 were subs for G7). The whole line and progression had to be played in all twelve keys. When I practiced B1 I would just look at the melody line as one big long line and I would look at the chords subs as something else entirely. Maybe that wasn’t the correct way to approach it, but that’s what I did.

Next came Ear Training (B2) and for me that usually involved singing scales (and their inversions in subsequent B2s) using solfege (do, re, mi, etc.).

Then came Rhythm Studies (B3) which I really enjoyed. I worked out of the Maestro’s list of Latin rhythms. The assignment was to compose a four or five bar theme using his rhythms and combining eight consecutive notes (moving forward or backward) from any of the melody lines in A1, B1, or C1. Ultimately, the longer I studied, the more literature I accrued, and this exercise almost gave me the freedom to write whatever I wanted – still within the construct of the rhythm studies. I also used to apply this exercise to the chord progressions from A1. Over the years some of these little B3 melodies have turned into full length tunes.

Week Three – Tritone Principles, Sight Singing, Compose Paraphrase on C1
Week Three started with C1 which for me, initially was based on Sandole’s Tritone Principle. C1, again, was similar to A1 and B1 in that I was given a melody line that went along with a chord progression. The difference here was there was one chord per beat (again in 3/4 time). In bar 1 the first chord (beat one) could be a G7 and the third chord (beat three) would be Db7 (tritone sub). The second chord (beat two) would be a passing chord to get to the tritone, in this case it might be an Abmi7. Again, the whole line and progression had to be played in all twelve keys. And like B1, when I practiced C1 I would just look at the melody line as one big long line and I would look at the chords as something else entirely.

C2 was Sight Singing for me. Usually out of the Melodia book (I never made it to Modus Novus like some students). I would have specific pages assigned to me and I had to sing the lines with “movable do,” “fixed do,” and with just a sound, no solfege syllable, like “dee, dee, dee.”

C3 was a fun assignment. Take the melody line from that week’s C1, write out the notes (not the rhythms) in order (the theme), write it out in retrograde (backwards), and superimpose one on top of the other (diametrically opposed). When I did this I wrote the theme in blue ink and the retrograde in red. Together they looked pretty cool. I sometimes used the whole entire four or five bar line and sometimes I split it up into one bar at a time segments. Then the idea was to compose melodies based on these blue/red diametrically opposed notes. Again using 8 notes in a row, going left or right, either blues or reds, or a combination of blue and red. And if I wanted I could use the rhythms from his list of rhythms or I could use whatever rhythms I wanted. I usually tried to get these melodies to go along with some kind of chord progression. This was a fun exercise.

I should also mention at this point that anywhere during weeks One, Two, or Three I could be given some of the Maestro’s scales. Some were what he called exotic scales, and as time went on I started getting some of his own synthetic scales which I assume were built on his combining two existing scales to create a new scale. These scales were supplements to my regular workload. He encouraged me to play them in all keys. I could also use them for the assignment in Week Four.

Week Four – Composition
Week Four, D1, D2, and D3, was my favorite week in the four week cycle. I really looked forward to it. The D1 assignment was to pick a song, a standard – once the Maestro found out that I listened to a lot of blues he would encourage me to pick Mingus or Monk tunes. I was to take the chords from just the first eight bars of the tune (“don’t go past the eight bars or that will diminish the quality of your work”) and if I felt like it, I could reharmonize the progression using his chord substitutions from B1. This would often create a totally different sounding progression. Then I had to compose a theme to go with this new progression. I had to use eight consecutive notes from his literature (A1, B1, C1, scales, etc.). I could use the notes going forward or backward. And here’s the kicker – I could use his notes or if I felt like it (and I often did), I could sharp or flat any of his notes. I could also give each note whatever duration I wanted and I could use whatever time signature I wanted. Essentially I could write whatever the hell I wanted but I still had to work within his constructs. Often times the lines would sound like me but sometimes the shapes of the lines were his. I also had to write lyrics or poetry to go along with my theme and progression. I used to think that I was writing some good poetry for these D1s but the Maestro never seemed too impressed! :)

I usually got lazy with D2. Shame one me. I missed out. The D2 assignment was to take my new 8 bar chord progression from D1 and write chord voicings for it. Mine were usually pretty lame – and it showed when I had to hop on the piano and play them at my lessons.

D3 was kind of like D1 – compose an “improvisation” that accompanies the theme/melody and progression I had just written, and I had to use the same rules from D1.

Week Four was a lot of fun and I really put in a lot of time writing these exercises. And a lot of these melodies ended up becoming full-length tunes or the basis of tunes. Whenever I am writing and I hit a wall, I can always use the Maestro’s literature and mix it up in this way to create something totally new and totally mine (at least that’s the goal).

As time went on, my As, Bs, and Cs changed a bit. I received gradually more and more complex literature. The weird lines would start to get groupings of fives and sevens (because Sandole sensed that I needed that). The chord progressions would start to sound stranger and stranger. And my ears opened up wider and wider. To be honest, a lot of this material was (and probably still is) over my head theoretically. But I knew that there was something there for me and I knew that Mr. Sandole would not be around forever. I had to get some of that literature before the opportunity was gone.

I should also say that I really liked Mr. Sandole. He made me feel special, like I had something to offer. But he wouldn’t really compliment me or blow smoke up my ass. Sometimes he didn’t really mention anything about what I had just played for him at all. He would maybe just smile and nod or say “good” and write out the next week’s lesson. And if I was ill-prepared he might barely say anything to me, leaving me feeling really low and determined to not repeat that performance the next week. We would also have some great conversations – about music and musicians (he told me he was fan of Jimi Hendrix!) and also personal things. He had a warm smile and a subtle sense of humor. He met my girlfriend who is now my wife and I swear he flirted with her! When I told him a couple years later that my wife and I were going to have a baby, he was so excited. With the biggest smile I ever saw on his face he told me how happy he was for me.

I remember feeling like one of the special students when he asked me a few times to go around the corner to the deli on 17th Street to get him a sandwich and some juice. Not everybody got that job! I can still hear his voice in my head. I asked him once if he ever smoked – I was sure that he had. He told me that when he was young he had smoked for about ten days but quit. “You see, Bart, when I was a young man I was very vain, and I didn’t like the way the cigarettes stained my fingers. When I saw that I quit smoking.” The last few lessons I took were at Mr. Sandole’s apartment in Roxborough. His health was declining and getting to town and back was getting to be too much. The last lesson I received was twice as long as anything I had ever been given before. It was the hardest A1 I had ever played. I think I had one of his final lessons. I believe that Dennis Sandole was a genius. That’s not something you find every day.

In the future I’ll be posting some of my Sandole literature. Hopefully it will be of some interest for people.

Monday, January 10, 2011

GP-8

A few weeks ago a friend of mine, guitarist Richard Somerville kindly let me borrow (on long-term loan) his old Roland GP-8, a multi-effects processor.  It took me a while – so hard to find time these days – but on Saturday I finally sat down with the thing, hooked it up through a microphone and my Roland keyboard amp and spent a few hours playing around with the 128 possible combinations of effects.  Here’s a quick description of the unit:

Roland GP-8 Guitar Effects Processor is one of the earliest multi-effectors with 8 effect blocks, serially chained. The effects are: Dynamic Filter, Compressor, Over Drive, Distortion, Phaser, Equalizer, Digital Delay and Digital Chorus. The digital delay and chorus are both 12-bit. MIDI SysEx editing and Foot Pedal modulation is supported.

I have waited years for this.  Since I was 13 I have been a total freak for Jimi Hendrix and I’ve always secretly wished that I could play guitar and could play with all of those effects that were integral to Hendrix’s sound.  And whenever I’ve heard trumpet players using effects I would get kind of excited.  Miles Davis and the wah wah.  Clark Terry with the Varitone.  Don Ellis with the Echoplex and the ring modulator.  Jon Hassell and the harmonizer.  Nils Petter Molvaer and the distortion and his take on the harmonizer.  Toshinori Kondo and his mix of reverb and distortion.  So cool.  Don’t get me wrong, I really love the sound of the trumpet and I’ve worked pretty diligently to get a good trumpet sound, but sometimes I just really love it when players can make the trumpet not sound like a trumpet.  Jazz trumpet players have been getting different sounds out of the trumpet since the beginning of the music and that tradition of exploration is of course still thriving today with players getting all kinds of sounds out of the horn besides just a beautiful brass sound – half-valve smears, rips, squeaks, pedal tones, multiphonics, growls, air sounds, tonguing effects, various mute techniques, etc.  These techniques and sounds are all things that I am really into.  And sometimes when playing around with these sounds I like to feel like I am not a trumpet player any more.  But I’ve still really wanted to explore electronic effects for years.  Three kids and a house and tons of other factors (I’m also pretty ignorant when it comes to certain technologies) have kept me from investing in some basic equipment and a few effects pedals.  But the time has come.  And I really had a blast fooling around with various effects on the GP-8.  Some obviously work better than others with the trumpet, but man, what a gas it was getting some crazy sounds.  The boys came upstairs and we had a pretty sweet jam session.  Julian on drums, Miles on guitar, and Gabriel on keyboard, percussion, and insane vocals.  It was awesome!  Even my neighbor, Mike dug it: “you guys sounded good up there!”  If you are a musician then you know that you never underestimate the good fortune of having a tolerant neighbor! 

So I’m already trying to figure what performance contexts I play in where I can bust out the GP-8.  There are a few groups I play in where an effected trumpet could work.  I think the first time I’ll use it in public will be the (see my Inaugural Post) Fathead reunion show at the Northstar Bar on Friday, January 28th.  And I’m also thinking about what else I’ll want to acquire at some point for further experimentation – probably a ring modulator and definitely a looper.  Definitely gonna need an expression pedal too for some of the GP-8 effects.  I plan on making the work with these effects a regular part of my practicing.  I’m sure it won’t take the place of good old-fashioned slurs, scales, tonguing exercises, etudes, and learning jazz tunes.  But I’ll definitely be slowly working my way towards getting some of that Hendrix in my sound.  I can’t wait.

Hey Richard – Thanks for Caring, Thanks for Sharing.