SOUND PROJECTIONS
AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE
EDITOR: KOFI NATAMBU
SUMMER, 2019
VOLUME SEVEN NUMBER TWO
HOLLAND DOZIER HOLLAND
(L-R: Lamont Dozier, Eddie Holland, Brian Holland)
Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:
SHIRLEY SCOTT
(June 15-21)
FREDDIE HUBBARD
(June 22-28)
BILL WITHERS
(June 29- July 5)
OUTKAST
(July 6-12)
J. J. JOHNSON
(July 13-19)
JIMMY SMITH
(July 20-26)
JACKIE WILSON
(July 27-August 2)
LITTLE RICHARD
(August 3-9)
KENNY BARRON
(August 10-16)
KENNY BARRON
(August 10-16)
BUSTER WILLIAMS
(August 17-23)
MOS DEF
(August 24-30)
RUN-D.M.C
(August 31-September 6)https://www.allmusic.com/artist/buster-williams-mn0000943189/biography
Buster Williams
(b. April 17, 1942)
Artist Biography by Richard S. Ginell
One of jazz's most valuable and enduring sidemen, bassist and composer Buster Williams
has flourished through many periods of changing fashions in jazz due to
his fat, authoritative, dark tone and highly refined technique on the
acoustic bass. Though he began his recording career in the early 1960s
with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, Sarah Vaughan, Jack Wilson, and the Jazz Crusaders, his earliest celebrity was as a member of Herbie Hancock's exploratory Mwandishi Sextet
from 1969 to 1973, doubling on acoustic and electric basses --
sometimes attached to electronic effects devices. He began recording as a
leader with a trilogy of albums on Muse Records in the mid-'70s. Of
these, his leader debut, Pinnacle,
is widely considered a modern jazz masterpiece. Since that time, his
leader dates have been sporadic, but his career as a sideman has
flourished. His notable achievements include appearances as a member of Sphere for 1982's Four in One, and later in the decade as a member of pianist Kenny Barron's trio. In the 21st century, Williams in addition to working in Denny Zeitlin's and Lenny White's groups, the bassist released the celebrated Griot Liberte in 2004 with White on drums and Stefon Harris
on piano and marimba. After a six-year break from recording (2009-2017)
while he focused on working as an instructor and touring musician, he
returned to tape as a member of Cyrus Chestnut's studio band on There's a Sweet, Sweet Spirit before resuming his own career as a leader with Audacity the following year.
Williams learned both the double bass and the drums from his father, but having been enormously impressed by Oscar Pettiford's
recordings, he ultimately decided to concentrate on the bass. After
studying theory and composition at Philadelphia's Combs College of Music
in 1959, Williams joined Jimmy Heath's unit the following year and played with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt in 1960 and 1961, as well as behind singers Dakota Staton (1961-1962), Betty Carter (1962-1963), Sarah Vaughan (1963), and Nancy Wilson (1964-1968). The gig with Wilson prompted a move to Los Angeles, where the Jazz Crusaders used him for concert dates and recordings from 1967 to 1969, and he also played briefly with Miles Davis in 1967 and the Bobby Hutcherson/Harold Land quintet. Moving to New York in 1969, Williams joined Hancock's sextet, appearing on all of his Warner Bros. albums, as well as The Prisoner (Blue Note) and Sextant (Columbia), and with trumpeter Eddie Henderson's spin-off group on Capricorn and Blue Note. Over a five-year period (1976-1981), Williams led numerous recording sessions for Muse, Denon, and Buddah while continuing to. In the '80s, he was a member of both the Timeless All-Stars and Sphere, writing a number of compositions for the latter. Among the musicians for whom he has played since the '80s are Kenny Barron, Frank Morgan, Stanley Cowell, Steve Turre, Emily Remler, and Larry Coryell.
Buster Williams
Buster Williams is a prodigious artist whose playing knows no limits. He has played, recorded and collaborated with jazz giants such as Art Blakey, Betty Carter, Carmen McRae, Chet Baker, Chick Corea, Dexter Gordon, Jimmy Heath, Branford Marsalis, Wynton Marsalis, Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt, Herbie Hancock, Larry Coryell, Lee Konitz, McCoy Tyner, Illinois Jacquet, Nancy Wilson, Elvin Jones, Miles Davis, the Jazz Crusaders, Ron Carter, Woody Shaw, Sarah Vaughan, Benny Golson, Mary Lou Williams, Hank Jones, Lee Morgan, Jimmy Rowles, Hampton Hawes, Cedar Walton, Bobby Hutcherson, Billy Taylor, Sonny Rollins, Count Basie, Errol Garner, Kenny Barron, Charlie Rouse, Dakota Staton, Kenny Dorham, Freddie Hubbard, etc. to name a few.
Mr. Williams has recorded soundtracks for movies including Les Choix des Armes; McKenna's Gold with Gregory Peck; David Lynch's, Twin Peaks “ Fire Walk With Me”; Spike Lee's, “Clockers” etc. Television commercials include, Coca-Cola; Old Spice; Tott's Champagne; Prudential Insurance; Chemical Bank; Alpo Dog Food; HBO; Budweiser Beer; etc. TV shows include an appearance on the Johnny Carson “ Tonight Show' with Errol Garner; the Jay Leno “Tonight Show” where he performed five of his original compositions with the Branford Marsalis Tonight Show Band. Other television shows include: Sesame Street with Joe Williams; A&E (Arts and Entertainment) with Bill Cosby; The Joan Rivers Show with Bill Cosby; The Andy Williams Show with Nancy Wilson; the Joey Bishop Show; the Grammy Awards with Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams and Bobby McFerrin; the Mike Douglas Show; the Today Show; etc.
Awards include a Grammy in 1979; the Min-On Art Award; the SGI Glory Award the SGI Cultural Award; the RVC Corporation RCA Best Seller Award; NEA recipient; New York Fellowship Grant; 5 Stars from Downbeat magazine for the album “Crystal Reflections” listed in Who's Who in Black America; and numerous proclamations.
Charles Anthony Williams, Jr. (nickname: Buster) was born in Camden, New Jersey on April 17, 1942. His mother, Gladys worked as a seamstress and his father, Charles Anthony Williams, Sr. (nick-name: Cholly), a bassist, worked various day jobs to support his five children, and at night played gigs to support his musical spirit.
“My father was my teacher. He would prepare my lessons for me,'' Buster recalls, “and when I got home from school I was supposed to practice, then he would listen while he was eating his dinner. It was an unwritten law that I had to play it right or hear about it. I was going to be the best. I had no choice. In those days, instead of a two car family, we were a two bass family. My father was a fan of Slam Stewart, and he strung his basses the way Slam did. Instead of the regular G-D-A-E, he strung a high C; ie,C-G-D-A. Adding the C string puts the playing of higher-pitched passages at a more comfortable position. Of course, when he decided to teach me he restrung one of his basses in the traditional manner for me. He told me, 'If I re-string my bass for you, you'd better be serious!'”
And Buster indeed was serious. In 1959 he began working with Jimmy Heath whose quartet included Sam Dockery on piano and the legendary Specs Wright on drums. What I learned from Jimmy about music and life was so valuable that bits and pieces of that experience continue to unfold even now. It was like taking a Time release “capsule of knowledge.” At the age of age 17, he began playing with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, just one month after graduating from Camden High School in 1960, and stayed with them for a year until the band got stranded in Kansas City. My parents had told me to always keep my train fare home tucked away in a bible, which they had given me. Well this was great lookin' out, but I would probably never have a problem, I thought. Wrong. When the problem did occur I was out on the road broke. Gene Ammons had run off with all the money and nobody got paid. Fortunately, I, along with the piano player and drummer was able to work a week with Al Hibbler, and thereby earn my train fare back home.
Back home in Camden, Buster took some courses in Composition and Harmony and Theory at Combs College of Music in Philadelphia. Then came a gig in Wilmington, Delaware with the Gerald Price Trio. Dakota Staton heard the trio and hired them on the spot. In 1962, he moved on to work with singer Betty Carter, and then Sarah Vaughan, who took him on his first European tour. He was 20 years old, on the French Riviera, and meeting musicians who would figure heavily in his future—-Miles Davis, Ron Carter, Herbie Hancock, George Coleman, and Tony Williams. His big, deep, resilient and inventive playing since then has made him the bassist of choice throughout the jazz world.
In
1964 he joined Nancy Wilson, got married, and moved out to L.A. He
continued to work with Nancy until he decided to return to New York in
October of 1968. About 5 or 6 albums came from this relationship. During
this time he also worked with and recorded 5 albums with the Jazz
Crusaders; worked and recorded with Miles Davis; played with Kenny
Durham and was in demand as first call for recording studio; TV, and
movie dates.
As soon as he returned to New York he began working with Art Blakely, Herbie Mann, Herbie Hancock and Mary Lou Williams. This worked fine until gigs started to conflict and Buster was forced to choose. He chose to stay with the Herbie Hancock sextet which consisted of Herbie, Buster, Johnny Coles, Garnet Brown, Joe Henderson, and Tootle Heath. Between 1969 and 1972 the group metamorphosised into the final personnel: Benny Maupin, Billy Hart, Eddie Henderson, Julian Priester, and Patrick Gleason on Moog synthesizer, Herbie, and Buster.
In 1980, he was nominated for a Grammy Award for his contribution to the album “Love For Sale”/The Great Jazz Trio, with Hank Jones and Tony Williams. His arrangements and compositions have been recorded by Roy Ayers, Roy Hargrove, Art Blakely, Larry Coryell, Freddie Hubbard, Buck Hill, the Jazz Crusaders, Mary Lou Williams, and Herbie Hancock, to name a few.
In addition to albums, he has recorded numerous television commercials and movie soundtracks. Buster, along with Ron Carter was the featured soloist with the London Symphony Orchestra on the soundtrack composed by Phillipe Sarde for the Yves Montand and Simone Signoret film, “ LES CHOIX DES ARMES.” “That film required quite a commute,” Buster recalls. “I had to go back and forth to London at least once a month for six months, carrying my bass. They really got to know me at JFK and Heathrow.
Somewhere in the early'80's, Buster did a tour with Herbie and Tony Williams which included the young, fresh, new on the scene trumpeter, Wynton Marsalis. Then Herbie formed a trio of himself, Buster and Al Foster on drums. For certain summer tours, Branford Marsalis, Michael Brecker, or Greg Osby were added. The trio continued working together until 1995. Also during this period there was a Grammy appearance which featured a quintet made up of Buster, Herbie, Tony, and Bobby McFerrin. In 1989, Buster recorded an album of his compositions that featured Wayne Shorter; Herbie, Al, and a brilliant trumpeter named Shunzo Ono. This project entitled “Something More,” was released on the IN+OUT lable and became the catalyst for Buster to form his own group which he calls “Something More.”
In 1991 he was awarded a National Endowment for the Arts grant to compose and perform a work for quintet, string ensemble and vocal chorus. Also that year he received a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship Grant.
Before forming the Buster Williams Quintet “Something More” he was a member of the world renowned cooperative quartet, Sphere, which consisted of pianist Kenny Barron; drummer Ben Riley; Buster Williams; and the late tenor saxophonist Charles Rouse. Then came his work with ''The Timeless Allstars”, featuring Buster; Cedar Walton; Billy Higgins; Curtis Fuller; Harold Land; and Bobby Hutcherson.
“After working almost continuously for 30 years as a sideman,” says Buster, “I decided it was time to take the plunge, step up to the front, play my music, and express my concept of a cohesive musical unit. I've served my apprenticeship under many great masters and feel that it's my honor and privilege to carry on the lineage that makes this music such an artistically rich art form.
Since the inception of “Something More” in 1990, the group has had numerous tours of Europe including the first International Jazz Festival in Moscow; tour of Japan and Australia; countless engagements throughout the U.S. and a CD soon to be released.
After all this and “ Something More”, the logical question for Buster is, “What's next”?
As soon as he returned to New York he began working with Art Blakely, Herbie Mann, Herbie Hancock and Mary Lou Williams. This worked fine until gigs started to conflict and Buster was forced to choose. He chose to stay with the Herbie Hancock sextet which consisted of Herbie, Buster, Johnny Coles, Garnet Brown, Joe Henderson, and Tootle Heath. Between 1969 and 1972 the group metamorphosised into the final personnel: Benny Maupin, Billy Hart, Eddie Henderson, Julian Priester, and Patrick Gleason on Moog synthesizer, Herbie, and Buster.
In 1980, he was nominated for a Grammy Award for his contribution to the album “Love For Sale”/The Great Jazz Trio, with Hank Jones and Tony Williams. His arrangements and compositions have been recorded by Roy Ayers, Roy Hargrove, Art Blakely, Larry Coryell, Freddie Hubbard, Buck Hill, the Jazz Crusaders, Mary Lou Williams, and Herbie Hancock, to name a few.
In addition to albums, he has recorded numerous television commercials and movie soundtracks. Buster, along with Ron Carter was the featured soloist with the London Symphony Orchestra on the soundtrack composed by Phillipe Sarde for the Yves Montand and Simone Signoret film, “ LES CHOIX DES ARMES.” “That film required quite a commute,” Buster recalls. “I had to go back and forth to London at least once a month for six months, carrying my bass. They really got to know me at JFK and Heathrow.
Somewhere in the early'80's, Buster did a tour with Herbie and Tony Williams which included the young, fresh, new on the scene trumpeter, Wynton Marsalis. Then Herbie formed a trio of himself, Buster and Al Foster on drums. For certain summer tours, Branford Marsalis, Michael Brecker, or Greg Osby were added. The trio continued working together until 1995. Also during this period there was a Grammy appearance which featured a quintet made up of Buster, Herbie, Tony, and Bobby McFerrin. In 1989, Buster recorded an album of his compositions that featured Wayne Shorter; Herbie, Al, and a brilliant trumpeter named Shunzo Ono. This project entitled “Something More,” was released on the IN+OUT lable and became the catalyst for Buster to form his own group which he calls “Something More.”
In 1991 he was awarded a National Endowment for the Arts grant to compose and perform a work for quintet, string ensemble and vocal chorus. Also that year he received a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship Grant.
Before forming the Buster Williams Quintet “Something More” he was a member of the world renowned cooperative quartet, Sphere, which consisted of pianist Kenny Barron; drummer Ben Riley; Buster Williams; and the late tenor saxophonist Charles Rouse. Then came his work with ''The Timeless Allstars”, featuring Buster; Cedar Walton; Billy Higgins; Curtis Fuller; Harold Land; and Bobby Hutcherson.
“After working almost continuously for 30 years as a sideman,” says Buster, “I decided it was time to take the plunge, step up to the front, play my music, and express my concept of a cohesive musical unit. I've served my apprenticeship under many great masters and feel that it's my honor and privilege to carry on the lineage that makes this music such an artistically rich art form.
Since the inception of “Something More” in 1990, the group has had numerous tours of Europe including the first International Jazz Festival in Moscow; tour of Japan and Australia; countless engagements throughout the U.S. and a CD soon to be released.
After all this and “ Something More”, the logical question for Buster is, “What's next”?
BIOGRAPHY
Buster Williams is a prodigious artist whose playing knows no limits. He has played, recorded and collaborated with jazz giants such as Art Blakey, Betty Carter, Carmen McRae, Chet Baker, Chick Corea, Dexter Gordon, Jimmy Heath, Branford Marsalis, Wynton Marsalis, Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt, Herbie Hancock, Larry Coryell, Lee Konitz, McCoy Tyner, Illinois Jacquet, Nancy Wilson, Elvin Jones, Miles Davis, the Jazz Crusaders, Ron Carter, Woody Shaw, Sarah Vaughan, Benny Golson, Mary Lou Williams, Hank Jones, Lee Morgan, Jimmy Rowles, Hampton Hawes, Cedar Walton, Bobby Hutcherson, Billy Taylor, Sonny Rollins, Count Basie, Errol Garner, Kenny Barron, Charlie Rouse, Dakota Staton, Kenny Dorham, and Freddie Hubbard, to name a few.
Mr. Williams has recorded soundtracks for movies including Les Choix des Armes; McKenna’s Gold with Gregory Peck; David Lynch’s, Twin Peaks ����Fire Walk With Me”; Spike Lee’s Clockers, and more. Television commercials include Coca-Cola, Old Spice, Tott’s Champagne, Prudential Insurance, Chemical Bank, Alpo Dog Food, HBO, and Budweiser Beer. TV shows include an appearance on the Johnny Carson Tonight Show, with Errol Garner; and the Jay Leno Tonight Show, where he performed five of his original compositions with the Branford Marsalis Tonight Show Band. Other television shows include Sesame Street, with Joe Williams; A&E (Arts and Entertainment), with Bill Cosby; The Joan Rivers Show, with Bill Cosby; The Andy Williams Show, with Nancy Wilson; the Joey Bishop Show; the Grammy Awards, with Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams and Bobby McFerrin; the Mike Douglas Show; the Today Show; etc.
Awards include a Grammy in 1979; the Min-On Art Award; the SGI Glory Award the SGI Cultural Award; the RVC Corporation RCA Best Seller Award; NEA recipient; New York Fellowship Grant; 5 Stars from Downbeat magazine for the album Crystal Reflections , listed in Who’s Who in Black America; and numerous proclamations.
Charles Anthony Williams, Jr. (nickname: Buster) was born in Camden, New Jersey on April 17, 1942. His mother, Gladys worked as a seamstress and his father, Charles Anthony Williams, Sr. (nick-name: Cholly), a bassist, worked various day jobs to support his five children, and at night played gigs to support his musical spirit. “He would prepare my lessons for me,” Buster recalls, ” and when I got home from school I was supposed to practice, then he would listen while he was eating his dinner. It was an unwritten law that I had to play it right or hear about it. I was going to be the best. I had no choice. In those days, instead of a two-car family, we were a two bass family. My father was a fan of Slam Stewart, and he strung his basses the way Slam did. Instead of the regular G-D-AE, he strung a high C; i.e., C-G-D-A. Adding the C string puts the playing of higher-pitched passages at a more comfortable position. He told me, ‘If I re-string my bass for you, you’d better be serious!'”
And Buster indeed was serious. In 1959 he began working with Jimmy Heath whose quartet included Sam Dockery on piano and the legendary Specs Wright on drums. What I learned from Jimmy about music and life was so valuable that bits and pieces of that experience continue to unfold even now. It was like taking a Time release “capsule of knowledge.” At the age of age 17, he began playing with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, just one month after graduating from Camden High School in 1960, and stayed with them for a year until the band got stranded in Kansas City. My parents had told me to always keep my train fare home tucked away in a bible, which they had given me. Well this was great lookin’ out, but I would probably never have a problem, I thought. Wrong. When the problem did occur I was out on the road broke. Gene Ammons had run off with all the money and nobody got paid. Fortunately, I, along with the piano player and drummer was able to work a week with Al Hibbler, and thereby earn my train fare back home.
Back home in Camden, Buster took some courses in Composition and Harmony and Theory at Combs College of Music in Philadelphia. Then came a gig in Wilmington, Delaware with the Gerald Price Trio. Dakota Staton heard the trio and hired them on the spot. In 1962, he moved on to work with singer Betty Carter, and then Sarah Vaughan, who took him on his first European tour. He was 20 years old, on the French Riviera, and meeting musicians who would figure heavily in his future—Miles Davis, Ron Carter, Herbie Hancock, George Coleman, and Tony Williams. His big, deep, resilient and inventive playing since then has made him the bassist of choice throughout the jazz world.
In 1964 he joined Nancy Wilson, got married, and moved out to L.A. He continued to work with Nancy until he decided to return to New York in October of 1968. About 5 or 6 albums came from this relationship. During this time he also worked with and recorded 5 albums with the Jazz Crusaders; worked and recorded with Miles Davis; played with Kenny Durham and was in demand as first call for recording studio; TV, and movie dates.
As soon as he returned to New York he began working with Art Blakely, Herbie Mann, Herbie Hancock and Mary Lou Williams. This worked fine until gigs started to conflict and Buster was forced to choose. He chose to stay with the Herbie Hancock sextet which consisted of Herbie, Buster, Johnny Coles, Garnet Brown, Joe Henderson, and Tootle Heath. Between 1969 and 1972 the group metamorphosised into the final personnel: Benny Maupin, Billy Hart, Eddie Henderson, Julian Priester, and Patrick Gleason on Moog synthesizer, Herbie, and Buster.
In 1980, he was nominated for a Grammy Award for his contribution to the album “Love For Sale”/The Great Jazz Trio, with Hank Jones and Tony Williams. His arrangements and compositions have been recorded by Roy Ayers, Roy Hargrove, Art Blakely, Larry Coryell, Freddie Hubbard, Buck Hill, the Jazz Crusaders, Mary Lou Williams, and Herbie Hancock, to name a few.
In addition to albums, he has recorded numerous television commercials and movie soundtracks. Buster, along with Ron Carter was the featured soloist with the London Symphony Orchestra on the soundtrack composed by Phillipe Sarde for the Yves Montand and Simone Signoret film, ” LES CHOIX DES ARMES.” “That film required quite a commute,” Buster recalls. “I had to go back and forth to London at least once a month for six months, carrying my bass. They really got to know me at JFK and Heathrow.
Somewhere in the early’80’s, Buster did a tour with Herbie and Tony Williams which included the young, fresh, new on the scene trumpeter, Wynton Marsalis. Then Herbie formed a trio of himself, Buster and Al Foster on drums. For certain summer tours, Branford Marsalis, Michael Brecker, or Greg Osby were added. The trio continued working together until 1995. Also during this period there was a Grammy appearance which featured a quintet made up of Buster, Herbie, Tony, and Bobby McFerrin. In 1989, Buster recorded an album of his compositions that featured Wayne Shorter; Herbie, Al, and a brilliant trumpeter named Shunzo Ono. This project entitled “Something More,” was released on the IN+OUT lable and became the catalyst for Buster to form his own group which he calls “Something More.”
In 1991 he was awarded a National
Endowment for the Arts grant to compose and perform a work for quintet,
string ensemble and vocal chorus. Also that year he received a New York
Foundation for the Arts Fellowship Grant.
Before forming the Buster Williams
Quintet “Something More” he was a member of the world renowned
cooperative quartet, Sphere, which consisted of pianist Kenny Barron;
drummer Ben Riley; Buster Williams; and the late tenor saxophonist
Charles Rouse. Then came his work with ”The Timeless Allstars”,
featuring Buster; Cedar Walton; Billy Higgins; Curtis Fuller; Harold
Land; and Bobby Hutcherson.
“After working almost continuously for 30 years as a sideman,” says Buster, “I decided it was time to take the plunge, step up to the front, play my music, and express my concept of a cohesive musical unit. I’ve served my apprenticeship under many great masters and feel that it’s my honor and privilege to carry on the lineage that makes this music such an artistically rich art form.
Since the inception of “Something More” in 1990, the group has had numerous tours of Europe including the first International Jazz Festival in Moscow; tour of Japan and Australia; countless engagements throughout the U.S. and a CD soon to be released.
After all this and ” Something More”, the logical question for Buster is, ” What’s next “?
Williams’ résumé ranks with that of any bassist in the modern era.” --JazzTimes
“One of the key sidemen in modern jazz…Buster’s harmony is impeccable and he has a rhythmic sense that is unfailing, feeling and utterly original.”
--The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD
“In his hands, the bass is a fully articulate solo voice.”
--Down Beat review of the 2001 album HoudiniBuster Williams is a prodigious artist whose playing knows no limits. He has played, recorded and collaborated with jazz giants such as Art Blakey, Betty Carter, Carmen McRae, Chet Baker, Chick Corea, Dexter Gordon, Jimmy Heath, Branford Marsalis, Wynton Marsalis, Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt, Herbie Hancock, Larry Coryell, Lee Konitz, McCoy Tyner, Nancy Wilson, Elvin Jones, Miles Davis, The Jazz Crusaders, Sarah Vaughan, Benny Golson, Hank Jones, Lee Morgan, Bobby Hutcherson, Sonny Rollins, Count Basie, and Freddie Hubbard to name a few.
Buster has recorded soundtracks for movies including Les Choix des Armes, McKenna’s Gold with Gregory Peck, David Lynch’s Twin Peaks “Fire Walk With Me”, Spike Lee’s Clockers, and more. His work in Television includes commercials for Coca-Cola, Old Spice, Prudential Insurance, Chemical Bank, HBO, Budweiser Beer and more. TV shows appearances include The Johnny Carson Tonight Show, The Jay Leno Tonight Show, where he performed five of his original compositions with the Branford Marsalis Tonight Show Band. Other television shows include The Today Show, A&E, The Grammy Awards with Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams and Bobby McFerrin. to name a few.
Williams was nominated for a Grammy Award for his work with Hank Jones and Tony Williams on Love For Sale. Williams was awarded a National Endowment for the Arts grant for composition as well as a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship Grant in 1991.
Buster has led his Something More quartet since its inception in 1990. The group has toured in Europe including the first International Jazz Festival in Moscow as well as in Japan, Australia and countless engagements throughout the U.S.
https://busterwilliams.com/something-more-quartet/
THE SOMETHING MORE QUARTET
Bassist Buster Williams is
one of the key players in modern jazz with a rock-solid grounding in
harmony, counterpoint and orchestration. Buster’s musicianship is
impeccable and his rhythmic sense unfailing. Williams work as a leader
is a blueprint for bassists on how to assume a more proactive, forward
position in an ensemble without throwing it out of balance.
The New Yorker
In Williams hands, the
bass is a fully articulate solo voice. His big, deep, resilient and
inventive playing has made him the bassist of choice throughout the jazz
world. He has worked with just about everyone of import on the jazz
scene, including long stints with Herbie Hancock and Nancy Wilson.
JazzIs
Buster decided it was time
to take the plunge, step up to the front, play his music, and express
his concept of a cohesive musical unit. Since the inception of his own
band, Something More has toured the globe many times.
All About Jazz /strong>
Legendary bassist Buster Williams leads his Something More quartet that includes Steve Wilson [saxophones],. George Colligan [piano] and Lenny White [drums]. The Guardian calls Williams one of the great acoustic bassists, and JazzTimes states Williams resume ranks with that of any bassist in the modern era. It s a resume that includes working with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt when he was 17; backing singing legends Betty Carter, Sarah Vaughn and Nancy Wilson in the 60s; anchoring Herbie Hancock s Mwandishi sextet into the 70s; and co-founding the Timeless All-Stars and Sphere after that. As important as he is as a bassist with his virtuosic technique and an unmistakable sound, he is equally known for his compositions and bands, which The New Yorker hails as modern, mainstream at its best.
George Colligan – piano
George Colligan is a New York based pianist, organist,drummer, trumpeter, teacher, and bandleader, who is one of the most original and compelling jazz artists of his generation. An award-winning composer (Chamber Music America/Doris Duke Foundation grant recipient) and player (winner, Jazzconnect.com Jazz Competition), Colligan is highly in demand as a sideman, having worked with players like Cassandra Wilson, Don Byron, Buster Williams, and Lonnie Plaxico, both on the bandstand and in recording sessions (appearing on over 100 CDs). He has released 24 recordings full of his intelligent writing and impressive technique. His latest CD on the Origin Label is called The Endless Mysteries and features Larry Grenadier and Jack DeJohnette. Colligan s musical style incorporates everything from showtunes to funk, from free improvisation to 20th century classical music. His performances include dazzling technique as well as mature restraint. Colligan was on the faculty of the Juilliard School for two years and is currently an Assistant Professor at Portland State University.
Steve Wilson – saxophones
Steve Wilson has attained ubiquitous status in the studio and on the stage with the greatest names in jazz, as well as critical acclaim as a bandleader in his own right. A musician’s musician, Wilson has brought his distinctive sound to more than 150 recordings led by such celebrated and wide-ranging artists as Chick Corea, George Duke, Michael Brecker, Dave Holland, Dianne Reeves, Bill Bruford, Gerald Wilson, Maria Schneider, Joe Henderson, Charlie Byrd, Billy Childs, Karrin Allyson, Don Byron, and Mulgrew Miller among many others. He has eight recordings as a leader.
Becoming a first-call choice for veteran and emerging artists alike, Wilson was the subject of a New York Times profile “A Sideman’s Life”, highlighting his work with Ralph Peterson, Jr., Michele Rosewoman, Renee Rosnes, Marvin “Smitty” Smith, Joanne Brackeen, The American Jazz Orchestra, The Mingus Big Band, The Smithsonian Jazz Masterworks Orchestra, and Buster Williams’ Quintet “Something More”. In 1996 he joined the acclaimed Dave Holland Quintet, and from 1998-2001 he was a member of Chick Corea’s Grammy winning sextet “Origin”. Wilson documented his first four recordings as a leader on the Criss Cross label New York Summit, Step Lively, Blues for Marcus and Four For Time. He then recorded two projects for Chick Corea’s Stretch Records label Generations, and Passages. In 2003 Wilson’s recording Soulful Song was released on MAX JAZZ launching the label’s Horn Series.
In 2009 Wilson was a member of the Blue Note 7, an all-star septet assembled to celebrate the 70th anniversary of Blue Note Records. The project culminated in a 50-city tour of the U.S. and their recording Mosaic.
An in-demand and passionate educator Wilson is an Associate Professor at City College of New York, and on faculty at the Juilliard School. He has been artist-in-residence and/or visiting artist at University of Michigan, University of Oregon, University of Maryland-College Park, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, University of Delaware, Lemoyn College, North Carolina Central University, Bowling Green University, Lafayette College, University of Northern Colorado, SUNY New Paltz, Florida State University, California State University at Stanislaus, University of Manitoba, Hamilton College, Old Dominion University, Virginia Commonwealth University, and for the award winning arts organization CITYFOLK in Dayton, Ohio.
Lenny White – drums
Being one of the newer innovators on his instrument, Lenny White has found the time to expand and reinvent his career by also becoming a great producer. His producing talents have been sampled by Nancy Wilson, Chaka Khan, Diane Reeves, Rachelle Ferelle and Marlena Shaw just to name a few singers. Chaka Khan was nominated for a Best Jazz Vocal Performance Grammy as a result of her participation on Lenny s critically
acclaimed Echoes Of An Era project. He s also produced projects for Pieces Of A Dream, the late great Grover Washington, Gato Barbieri, Wayne Shorter, Wallace Roney and hip-hop artist Big Daddy Kane. Not only has Lenny played with virtually everybody in the music business, he s also managed to stay in touch with numerous innovative musicians, helping create some of the most influential music of the past three decades.
Along with Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke and Al Di Meola he helped define Jazz-Fusion with the Grammy Award winning group, Return To Forever. With fellow Jamaica Boy band member and great producer Marcus Miller, Lenny co-scored the music for Reginald Hudlin s critical and financially successful film House Party. Additionally, Lenny had a hand in the soundtrack for Spike Lee s film School Daze.
Alternating between drummer and producer and always on the cutting edge of the music scene, Lenny has been continually pushing the musical envelope. 1968 was the year the great Jackie McLean asked an 18 year old Lenny to be a part of his band. The two drummers Jackie had employed right before Lenny were Tony Williams and Jack DeJohnette. Everyone said Miles Davis was next. In 1999, Lenny celebrated 30 years in the recording industry being baptized in 1969 as a teenager on the landmark recording Bitches Brew with Miles Davis. That recording helped change the face of music for the next 30 years. He was also on trumpeter Freddie Hubbard s famous RED CLAY along with greats Herbie Hancock, the late great Joe Henderson and Ron Carter. Lenny has been a part of more than a few landmark recordings. He s recorded eleven albums as a leader and has toured Europe, The Far East and The U.S. with his own bands. Recently Lenny has participated in a number of Lecture /performance panels at The Harvard Law School and Columbia University discussing the new directions of Jazz and Hip-Hop and the effects they have on our culture.
https://busterwilliams.com/discography/
DISCOGRAPHY
Herbie Hancock (left), Buster Williams and Billy Hart during a recording session for the Mwandishi Sextet
Buster Williams Still is on the Upswing
Downbeat
(Photo: Jimmy Katz)
On hiatus from his long-running gig with singer Nancy
Wilson, bassist Buster Williams, then 25, suddenly got an offer to tour
the Northwest with Miles Davis. He took the job, of course, and soon
found himself swept up in the whirlwind of invention that Davis, Wayne
Shorter, Herbie Hancock and Tony Williams were creating onstage in 1967.
“These guys had already created a direction of their own,” Williams recently said at the Manhattan club Smoke. “I had to step into that and grasp it very quickly.”
But when the trumpeter asked him to stay with the quintet after
Williams’ five-week hiatus had ended, he declined. The decision, based
on the comparative rates of pay, is one that the bassist thinks about to
this day.
“If I have any regrets, that might be the only one—that I didn’t
actually stay with Miles,” he said. “But I don’t have a real regret
about that, either. It’s on my résumé, and I learned a lot from Miles
when I was with him.”
Two years after the Davis tour, Williams joined Hancock’s
groundbreaking group Mwandishi, and in 1975, he released his first album
as a leader, Pinnacle.
At 76, Williams might no longer be roiling the musical landscape in
quite the same way. But his writing has, if anything, grown more
personal. His sound—brilliantly clear, resonant and vibrant—is as
inimitable as ever on Williams’ new quartet album, Audacity (Smoke Sessions).
Williams’ originals reflect a spirit nurtured by decades of
Buddhist chanting. “Ariana Anai” and “Briana,” each written for a
granddaughter, glow with familial love, and the episodic “Triumph” burns
with an inner intensity.
“It’s got an effect on me when I play it and think about its
origins,” he said about “Triumph.” “I don’t know where it came from, but
it’s expressing something that lives inside of me that exists in hope.”
Driven by that sense of hope, Audacity is the latest stop on
a journey in which the next stop always is unclear. The only certainty,
Williams declared, is that “the next one will be better.”
The endless refining of Williams’ art was a major takeaway for filmmaker Adam Kahan, who has been working on Bass To Infinity, a documentary about the bassist, for about two years.
“There’s no question he’ll do that till he dies,” Kahan said.
“There’s no other option.”
Williams, while complimenting Kahan’s work, put it another way: “I
don’t want to finish this life after necessarily completing my mission
without having started something new. I’d like to be on the upswing.” DB
Charles Anthony “Buster” Williams Jr. approaches the bass the
same way he answers every question during our Saturday afternoon phone
interview: precise timing, emphatic answers with no filibustering and
thoughtful responses to every inquiry.
“I’ve never felt playing the bass was a hindrance or a detriment to doing anything in music,” Williams says in response to whether he deemed himself a bandleader or session player. “I’m a bass player, front and center. When I’m working in a group, then the music gets defined and determined by the leader.
The main reason I’ve decided now to concentrate on my own music is that I wanted to be the person determining what got played, how it was played and what it ultimately sounded like on the bandstand. That’s my focus now, to play my own music and emphasize my compositions.”
Still, Williams’ résumé ranks with that of any bassist in the modern era. Since he made his first substantial impact in 1959 as part of legendary saxophonist Jimmy Heath’s band alongside pianist Sam Dockery and the esteemed drummer Specs Wright, Williams has elevated every gig, session and date on which he’s been a participant. The list of his collaborations reaffirms Williams’ versatility. He’s backed such vocalists as Betty Carter, Carmen McRae, Nancy Wilson, Sarah Vaughan and Dakota Staton. If you want to talk giants, Williams has played with Art Blakey, Dexter Gordon, McCoy Tyner, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Count Basie, Lee Konitz and Freddie Hubbard, to list only a few. He’s done the soul-jazz and funk thing with The Crusaders and been part of a bass-oriented ensemble with Ron Carter. He’s performed repertory as a member of Sphere with Kenny Barron and Charlie Rouse, even served time in the swing academy with Count Basie. There’s almost no musical situation that Williams hasn’t been involved with, including working on both the Johnny Carson and Jay Leno versions of The Tonight Show, and even popping up on such long defunct pop culture landmarks as the Mike Douglas, Joan Rivers and Andy Williams television programs.
Yet for all the famous musicians that he’s played with, the first name Williams mentions when he discusses his career and influences is a family one. Charles Anthony Williams Sr., who was nicknamed Cholly, was the person who initially inspired Williams to play the bass and subsequently helped prepare him for a professional career.
“My father was a great, great player,” says Williams. “I heard many fine records when I was growing up, and the sound of Slam Stewart was a prime influence on me, both in terms of his arco sound and the way he strung the bass. My father told me that if he took the time to prepare my instrument I had better be serious about it. It’s something that I’ve never forgotten and will always remember about playing and about music.” Stewart strung his bass with a high C, thus the configuration C-G-D-A rather than the conventional G-D-A-E. Listen to such pieces as “I Have a Dream” from the Herbie Hancock gem The Prisoner and hear how high and enticing Williams’ bass lines sound.
Though Williams began working professionally upon graduating from Camden High School in Camden, New Jersey, he eventually took some courses in Composition and Harmony and Theory at Combs College of Music in Philadelphia. Throughout the early and mid-’60s Williams sharpened his craft and developed a sound and approach. He worked with Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt and the Gerald Price Trio, then began earning better wages and getting more exposure with Dakota Staton, Betty Carter and Sarah Vaughan. It was Vaughan who took Williams on his first tour of Europe, and she’s among the select list of people he gives highest praises.
“There have been so many wonderful folk that I’ve worked with and played with over my years, but Sarah Vaughan was special. So were Sonny Rollins and Miles Davis, Dexter Gordon and, of course, Herbie Hancock. These are people who didn’t just teach you about music. They took you aside and taught you about life, about what it really means to play this music well, to actually have something to say on the bandstand. This was my true college, if you will, traveling and playing with all these great people.”
Williams also earned a reputation for providing a huge, rich tone and ideal support without ever carping or demanding more solo time. When a four-year West Coast gig with Nancy Wilson ended in 1968, Williams was ready to come back to New York. While he’d been quite successful in California, making popular LPs with The Crusaders, playing with Kenny Dorham and doing a host of movie and television dates and sessions, Williams still was looking for something more. Once back in New York, Williams quickly found himself juggling prestige gigs with Art Blakey, Herbie Mann, Mary Lou Williams and Herbie Hancock. Ultimately, he decided to become a fulltime member of Hancock’s 1969 sextet, which soon became a prime jazz ensemble.
This band, which also included trumpeter Johnny Coles, trombonist Garnett Brown, saxophonist Joe Henderson and drummer Tootie Heath, was among the finest jazz-rock and pop-tinged units of all time. Their LP Fat Albert Rotunda featured spry funk and delightful tunes that still allowed substantial solos, while Hancock’s The Prisoner nicely merged symbolic protest fare with tremendous performances. When Hancock moved the band even further into the electric era, Williams went along for the ride despite lacking experience on the electric bass.
“That band with Herbie really was a high point in my musical life. We were doing some things that no one ever thought a jazz band would ever consider. I remember one time we were in Italy and Herbie saw this huge Moog synthesizer and he decided he wanted to add it to the band. This was the time when those things were huge. We ended up carting this enormous thing all over Italy and having to plug all that stuff up; we looked like an airport up on the bandstand. I had never played the electric bass before we started going electric. I didn’t know then that it’s a totally different instrument. The stuff that cats do today, all the slapping and the ripping, that’s something I’ve never done on the electric. I put that thing down back in the ’70s, and if anyone asks me today if I play electric bass, I tell them I don’t. That’s a whole different animal now.”
“I’ve never felt playing the bass was a hindrance or a detriment to doing anything in music,” Williams says in response to whether he deemed himself a bandleader or session player. “I’m a bass player, front and center. When I’m working in a group, then the music gets defined and determined by the leader.
The main reason I’ve decided now to concentrate on my own music is that I wanted to be the person determining what got played, how it was played and what it ultimately sounded like on the bandstand. That’s my focus now, to play my own music and emphasize my compositions.”
Still, Williams’ résumé ranks with that of any bassist in the modern era. Since he made his first substantial impact in 1959 as part of legendary saxophonist Jimmy Heath’s band alongside pianist Sam Dockery and the esteemed drummer Specs Wright, Williams has elevated every gig, session and date on which he’s been a participant. The list of his collaborations reaffirms Williams’ versatility. He’s backed such vocalists as Betty Carter, Carmen McRae, Nancy Wilson, Sarah Vaughan and Dakota Staton. If you want to talk giants, Williams has played with Art Blakey, Dexter Gordon, McCoy Tyner, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Count Basie, Lee Konitz and Freddie Hubbard, to list only a few. He’s done the soul-jazz and funk thing with The Crusaders and been part of a bass-oriented ensemble with Ron Carter. He’s performed repertory as a member of Sphere with Kenny Barron and Charlie Rouse, even served time in the swing academy with Count Basie. There’s almost no musical situation that Williams hasn’t been involved with, including working on both the Johnny Carson and Jay Leno versions of The Tonight Show, and even popping up on such long defunct pop culture landmarks as the Mike Douglas, Joan Rivers and Andy Williams television programs.
Yet for all the famous musicians that he’s played with, the first name Williams mentions when he discusses his career and influences is a family one. Charles Anthony Williams Sr., who was nicknamed Cholly, was the person who initially inspired Williams to play the bass and subsequently helped prepare him for a professional career.
“My father was a great, great player,” says Williams. “I heard many fine records when I was growing up, and the sound of Slam Stewart was a prime influence on me, both in terms of his arco sound and the way he strung the bass. My father told me that if he took the time to prepare my instrument I had better be serious about it. It’s something that I’ve never forgotten and will always remember about playing and about music.” Stewart strung his bass with a high C, thus the configuration C-G-D-A rather than the conventional G-D-A-E. Listen to such pieces as “I Have a Dream” from the Herbie Hancock gem The Prisoner and hear how high and enticing Williams’ bass lines sound.
Though Williams began working professionally upon graduating from Camden High School in Camden, New Jersey, he eventually took some courses in Composition and Harmony and Theory at Combs College of Music in Philadelphia. Throughout the early and mid-’60s Williams sharpened his craft and developed a sound and approach. He worked with Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt and the Gerald Price Trio, then began earning better wages and getting more exposure with Dakota Staton, Betty Carter and Sarah Vaughan. It was Vaughan who took Williams on his first tour of Europe, and she’s among the select list of people he gives highest praises.
“There have been so many wonderful folk that I’ve worked with and played with over my years, but Sarah Vaughan was special. So were Sonny Rollins and Miles Davis, Dexter Gordon and, of course, Herbie Hancock. These are people who didn’t just teach you about music. They took you aside and taught you about life, about what it really means to play this music well, to actually have something to say on the bandstand. This was my true college, if you will, traveling and playing with all these great people.”
Williams also earned a reputation for providing a huge, rich tone and ideal support without ever carping or demanding more solo time. When a four-year West Coast gig with Nancy Wilson ended in 1968, Williams was ready to come back to New York. While he’d been quite successful in California, making popular LPs with The Crusaders, playing with Kenny Dorham and doing a host of movie and television dates and sessions, Williams still was looking for something more. Once back in New York, Williams quickly found himself juggling prestige gigs with Art Blakey, Herbie Mann, Mary Lou Williams and Herbie Hancock. Ultimately, he decided to become a fulltime member of Hancock’s 1969 sextet, which soon became a prime jazz ensemble.
This band, which also included trumpeter Johnny Coles, trombonist Garnett Brown, saxophonist Joe Henderson and drummer Tootie Heath, was among the finest jazz-rock and pop-tinged units of all time. Their LP Fat Albert Rotunda featured spry funk and delightful tunes that still allowed substantial solos, while Hancock’s The Prisoner nicely merged symbolic protest fare with tremendous performances. When Hancock moved the band even further into the electric era, Williams went along for the ride despite lacking experience on the electric bass.
“That band with Herbie really was a high point in my musical life. We were doing some things that no one ever thought a jazz band would ever consider. I remember one time we were in Italy and Herbie saw this huge Moog synthesizer and he decided he wanted to add it to the band. This was the time when those things were huge. We ended up carting this enormous thing all over Italy and having to plug all that stuff up; we looked like an airport up on the bandstand. I had never played the electric bass before we started going electric. I didn’t know then that it’s a totally different instrument. The stuff that cats do today, all the slapping and the ripping, that’s something I’ve never done on the electric. I put that thing down back in the ’70s, and if anyone asks me today if I play electric bass, I tell them I don’t. That’s a whole different animal now.”
Hancock’s electric crew made some marvelous works in Mwandishi, Crossings and Sextant, then Hancock disbanded the group, reportedly due to his disenchantment at not being able to reach a broader audience. While Williams had urged Hancock not to break up the unit, he soon found a home with a totally different band. He joined Ron Carter in a two-bass group that earned critical raves in the late ’70s. Williams also did some dates as a leader with Muse and Buddah, before once more becoming a star session man throughout the ’80s.
As part of the Great Jazz Trio in 1980, Williams earned a Grammy nomination for his participation on the LP The Great Jazz Trio with pianist Hank Jones and drummer Tony Williams. Buster Williams would ultimately win a Grammy as part of a group with Hancock, Tony Williams and Bobby McFerrin. A 1989 LP featuring Buster as a leader titled Something More proved the catalyst for the bassist to eventually form his own band, appropriately titled Something More. He’d also put in time with both Sphere, a Thelonious Monk repertory band with pianist Kenny Barron, drummer Ben Riley and longtime Monk saxophonist Charlie Rouse, and as part of the Timeless All Stars, with pianist Cedar Walton, drummer Billy Higgins, trombonist Curtis Fuller, saxophonist Harold Land and vibist Bobby Hutcherson.
But an even more important development during the ’80s and ’90s involved writing. Williams began penning more compositions, and even earned a National Endowment for the Arts grant in 1991 to create and perform a work for quintet, string ensemble and vocal chorus. That same year saw Williams also earn a grant from the New York Foundation for the Arts.
Williams’ latest album, Live at the Montreux Jazz Festival 1999 (TCB), features Williams playing with his regular pianist Mulgrew Miller, guest vibist Steve Nelson and another special contributor, drummer Carl Allen. The piano/vibes/bass/drum lineup mirrors the personnel of another famed jazz band, the Modern Jazz Quartet, but that’s not the reason for this instrumentation. Rather it reflects Williams’ preference for spotlighting the vibes.
“It’s an instrument that I enjoy immensely. The vibes bring a different sound to the band. It gives us a different flavor. I like the romanticism of the vibes, and in my view it has what I call a great blendability, if that’s a word, with the rest of the instruments. I’m excited by the chance to have it in my band. The only problem with this new record is that this isn’t my working band. It’s really becoming difficult today to make records with even the same personnel from one time to the other, let alone have your regular group. My working band includes Miller on piano, Stefon Harris, a wonderful young vibes player, and Lenny White on drums. Steve Wilson, who is Gerald Wilson’s son, plays with us at times on alto and soprano sax. I really would love to be able to actually rehearse and record a series of records with this same band, but that’s just one of the problems with what’s happening today.”
That comment is just a prelude to a full barrage that Williams unloads when asked what he thinks about jazz in the 21st century.
“If I really answered that one the way I want to, it would take about seven books. Let’s just say that the scene has never been like it is today. There are so many elements in play that have nothing whatsoever to do with the music. I’ve always been an optimist, someone who saw the glass and said it was half full, rather than saying it was half empty. It’s very interesting that in terms of the legitimacy of the music, you’ve got so many people in high places that don’t have any idea about what even constitutes musical quality. You’ve got these bureaucracies in place on gigs and in every situation, and in that way I’m a little bit disturbed. But you have to keep on fighting, no matter who’s supposedly in charge and whatever it is they try to tell you.
“I get upset sometimes because the real deal is being overlooked, and being assaulted by politics, economics and all the people who want to be part of the controlling forces. This isn’t something I sit around and complain about a lot, but it really is something that anyone who’s been out here even a little bit can easily see.”
But these obstacles won’t deter Williams from making the kind of great
music that he’s routinely delivered his entire career. He’s very
specific when asked whether there’s anything left to do musically.
“I still haven’t written my symphony yet. I would like to write some movies. Those two things are pretty much my goals, and I want to do everything in between as well. I never feel like I’ve arrived or that there’s nothing more for me to do. I don’t ever feel like things have brought me to some sort of stalemate. There’s always more things to do and more things to say, and that’s what I plan to continue doing as long as I’m capable.”
He doesn’t win any polls, or dominate the charts or appear as a featured narrator in jazz documentaries. All Buster Williams does is play the bass, and play it as well as anyone.
“I still haven’t written my symphony yet. I would like to write some movies. Those two things are pretty much my goals, and I want to do everything in between as well. I never feel like I’ve arrived or that there’s nothing more for me to do. I don’t ever feel like things have brought me to some sort of stalemate. There’s always more things to do and more things to say, and that’s what I plan to continue doing as long as I’m capable.”
He doesn’t win any polls, or dominate the charts or appear as a featured narrator in jazz documentaries. All Buster Williams does is play the bass, and play it as well as anyone.
Buster Williams: Audacity
by
On Audacity, his first disc as the man-in-charge since 2004's restorative Griot Liberte, venerable bassist and jazz gentlemen Buster Williams
delivers a stellar set of six potent, highly charged originals mixed
generously with originals from long-time band members saxophonist Steve Wilson, drummer Lenny White and pianist George Colligan.
Generous
is the key word here. Humble yet eminently assured of his ability,
agility and legacy, Williams spans the decades from '69 with Herbie Hancock's jazz/rock Mwandishi sextet through contemporary stints with, to name just a few, Kenny Barron, Nancy Wilson, Steve Turre, and Denny Zeitlin.
He gives his players so much that, upon first casual listening, one
might suspect this was a Wilson or Colligan date. Both players cover
wide ranges in service to Buster's tight composing, from the free
blowing, opening fire of "Where Giants Dwell" to the tuneful and tender
"Ariana Ani" and the ten-minute luxury that is "Briana." Colligan's
bright touch is particularly illuminating on the ballads (as is
William's delicious solo on "Briana") and downright post-bop hard on the
free-wheeling numbers that make up the bulk of the disc. White's
incisive "Stumblin'" more than compliments the leader's energetic
compositions with Wilson blowing long, Colligan comping wildly, and
Williams displaying the resilient, earthy tone that has long been his
calling card.
"Song of the Outcasts" shifts easily from exotica to the more mainstream, led this time by White (who unfortunately seems too low in the mix from time to time) and given flight by Wilson's crystal-clear, winding soprano. William's heart-racing "Triumph" and Wilson's equally infectious "Sisko" just make Audacity truly one of the highlight recordings of the new year, and a true celebration of the bassist's 75th year. Here's to many more!
"Song of the Outcasts" shifts easily from exotica to the more mainstream, led this time by White (who unfortunately seems too low in the mix from time to time) and given flight by Wilson's crystal-clear, winding soprano. William's heart-racing "Triumph" and Wilson's equally infectious "Sisko" just make Audacity truly one of the highlight recordings of the new year, and a true celebration of the bassist's 75th year. Here's to many more!
Track Listing: Where Giants Dwell; Song of the Outcasts; Sisko; Ariana Anai; Lost On 4th Avenue; Stumblin'; Triumph; Briana; Audacity
Personnel: Buster Wiliiams - bass; Steve Wilson - tenor and soprano sax; Lenny White - drums; George Colligan - piano
Title: Audacity | Year Released: 2018 | Record Label: Smoke Sessions Records
Bass To Infinity: An Interview with Buster Williams
March 16th, 2018
No Treble
With nearly six decades in the business, Buster Williams
has just about seen it all. He’s worked with some of the world’s best
instrumentalists (Herbie Hancock, Miles Davis, Sonny Stitt, and Gene
Ammons to name a few) and the world’s best vocalists (Nancy Wilson,
Sarah Vaughan, Dakota Staton, and Carmen McRae, to name a few). As you
can imagine, he’s got some great stories to tell.
Lucky for us, Williams is the subject of an upcoming documentary by filmmaker Adam Kahan entitled Bass to Infinity.
The film covers his beginnings in Camden, New Jersey – where his
multi-instrumentalist father taught him the bass – through his current
work and everything in between. It includes incredible animated stories
as well as interviews and jams with fellow musicians. The film is
currently raising money to finish the editing process via Kickstarter.
Fans who back the documentary can get rewards ranging from an advance
of the film to bass lessons with the master himself to executive
producer credits.
We caught up with Williams before his gig at Blues Alley in
Washington, DC to get the scoop on his career, what he learned from
working with singers, and the documentary.
Do you feel the jazz scene was more vibrant back in the ’60s and ’70s?
I believe it was. Of course, everything has to do with perception,
but for me, I was brand new at it and it was all exciting. It seemed
that there were many more opportunities to play with your mentors than
there are now. There were more clubs available. And there was more of an
enthusiasm for the music because you could hear it on the radio in
those days, which is kind of difficult to do now.
Who would you consider some of your mentors?
My first mentor was my father. He was my teacher. Then I went out on
the road with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt right after I graduated from
high school. Before that, while I was still in high school I was playing
with Jimmy Heath, so I would consider him a mentor, too. Then I got to
meet Ray Brown. All of these giants that I got to play with were my
mentors. Not just instrumentalists, but vocalists, too. I was with Sarah
Vaughan for two years, Betty Carter for a number of years. I’ve learned
things from all of these people. Benny Golson has been a mentor of mine
since my early high school days. So, I learned from all of these great
masters.
I wanted to ask you about a Gene Ammons story I read where he left you holding the bag after a gig. What happened?
He stranded the band in Kansas City after we played two weeks. There
was no money, according to him. We were supposed to go to Chicago to
open up the club McKee’s for 16 weeks. We had a meeting the last night
of the gig and agreed that he would go on to Chicago and get a draw then
send us the money to come to Chicago. And he never did. [laughs]
Fortunately we were able to play another week as a trio at the club we
had been playing at. That’s how we got the money to get home.
I know you eventually worked with Gene again. How did you reform a relationship after that?
It’s interesting because I sued him through the American Federations
of Musicians and I got all my money. Right after he stranded us, he got
arrested and was put in jail. Then he was supposed to be going away for a
long time but things were worked out and he got out of jail. The first
thing he did when he got out was call me. He said, “J.R., I’m home. I
want you to come do a record with me.” And I said sure. He and Sonny
Stitt were like fathers to me. He came to New York and we did a record
called “The Boss is Back.” The album cover has him coming out of the
doorway of an airplane. As far as the relationship is concerned, we
never even talked about what went down.
You mentioned Ray Brown as one of your mentors. You got to know him pretty well?
Yeah, pretty well. He had spent all of those years with the Oscar
Peterson Trio, and he decided to leave the trio and settle in Los
Angeles. At that time I was living in Los Angeles because I moved out
there with Nancy Wilson. I started with her in 1965. In March, I married
my childhood sweetheart and Nancy was her maid of honor. As a wedding
gift, Nancy moved us out to California. She was moving her operation
from Chicago to California and she wanted me to come out with her. I was
there from April of ’65 to November of ’68. In that time, Ray Brown
settled in Los Angeles. Of course, when he arrived, they gave him the
key to the city. Fortunately, I had met Ray Brown and we were friends so
he started calling me for all of the work he couldn’t do, which was a
whole lot of work. He kept me quite busy.
Did you get to know a lot of the bass players on the scene? I figure it could be hard when everyone has a gig and there’s only one bassist on the gig.
There’s one bass player on the gig, but that doesn’t mean you can’t
get to know other bass players. In those days, it was very interesting.
Jazz festivals were really jazz festivals. We all lived in New York, but
you wouldn’t see each other very much. You’d think we’re all in the
same city and could see each other all the time, but we were all
working. On jazz festivals, that’s where everybody would be. These were
festivals in the States as well as Europe and Japan, so that was kind of
like the gathering place. You’d travel to the North Sea Jazz Festival
and see friends that live just blocks away from you in New York. That
was in the days when jazz festivals were jazz festivals. It’s not that
way anymore.
Festivals today use jazz as a pretty loose term. Do you think they’re just using it?
Exactly. The word jazz sells, but they swear that jazz itself doesn’t
sell. They use the word jazz to sell anything. I don’t agree with all
that stuff. It’s all economics and everyone is nudging each other for
power.
You spent so much time with Nancy Wilson and all these singers. What did you learn from being a sideman to them?
Oh,
it was incredible. Now take Betty Carter. Betty Carter had such control
that she could sing so slow and so far behind the beat that it was
incumbent upon me to be in control of myself. I couldn’t let a slow
tempo of the fact that she was singing so far behind the beat throw me
off. So I learned control with Betty Carter. With Sarah Vaughan, I
learned to play in tune. She had perfect pitch and if I played anything
out of tune, she would hear it. All of these singers, they love the bass
player. I’ve found that great singers listen to the bass player. So I
would do duos a lot with all of these singers: Sarah Vaughan, Betty
Carter, Nancy Wilson, Carmen McRae. I learned the importance of lyrics.
If a song has a lyric, learn it because it will have an important role
in how you interpret the song. I learned the importance of melody, and
that it’s not just something to get out of the way so you can play your
solo. I couldn’t be the artist that I am if it were not for these
singers. I was fortunate enough to play with all of these singers who
were musicians. Betty Carter played piano and wrote her own songs. Of
course, Sarah Vaughan was a great pianist. Carmen McRae, also. They
could sit down and accompany themselves. Dakota Staton, I learned the
real meaning of show business. She really knew how to sequence her songs
so that no part of the performance was a letdown. From the beginning to
the end, the performance had a curve and a shape to it. That’s just
some of the things I learned from the singers. Discipline, self-control,
playing in tune, patience, and never losing focus.
Do you see a certain era or mentor that shaped your playing the most?
It would be hard to say who shaped my playing the most. My career,
fortunately, has been like going up a ladder. If I’m on the fifth rung
of the ladder, it’s because I learned my lessons on the first, second,
third, and fourth rungs of the ladder. So I can’t say that the fifth
rung is doing more for me than the first four. Everything was a stepping
stone that pushed me on to the next step. I had great experiences with
Miles Davis. I learned from Miles by just being in his presence. He
never talked about the music. Our conversations were always about
something else. When we got on the bandstand, he was a teacher bar none
by the way he approached things. By the way he used space, and by the
way he allowed the band to be part of the performances. Whatever he did
was shaping the music as well as being part of the shape. It was
wonderful.
In the early ’70s you took up Buddhism and started chanting. Do you feel like it helped shape the music from that era?
There’s no way that it can’t. Chanting Namu My?h? Renge Ky? creates a
pure human revolution – a real transformation in your life that not
only changes your reaction to things but your perception of things. I
used to see myself, if you asked me who I was, as a musician. But
through chanting, if you ask me now who I am, I’m a human being. It
changed my perception of who I am and what role I play in this world and
in this life. It far surpasses just being a musician. Playing music is
what I do, that’s now who I am. I realize that who I am is part of the
human race and that I can be a true asset to the human race. That
realization gives me a much broader viewpoint and a greater appreciation
for life itself. Through practicing with the organization Soka Gakkai
International, I can go all over the world and meet people that chant
Namu My?h? Renge Ky?. We can’t speak the same language, but we can
practice Buddhism together because it’s rooted in creating unity between
human beings and creating happiness for each other. I can see my
effects on other people regardless of what their walks of life may be.
It’s a true peace movement and it has so many advantages to it. There
are no limitations to this practice. You don’t have to be this person of
that person or this way or that way. Anybody can chant Namu My?h? Renge
Ky? and become a happy person by creating victories where you didn’t
see victories as possible.
I know you have a new documentary coming out. When can fans expect that?
The filmmaker started a Kickstarter to raise money to finish the
editing because the film is done but he’s engrossed in the editing of
it. His aim is to have it presented at the top of next year. There’s a
lot of stuff in this documentary. I’m really excited about it. The
animations are really nice, too. The documentary is called Bass to Infinity.
Was there anything revealing in the process? Were there questions that made you think about aspects of your life differently?
Questions always make me think about things in a certain way. I can’t
count how many interviews I’ve done and how many times I’ve had to
answer the same questions. I like interviews. Some are better than
others, but there’s a challenge to them. Do I just say, “All of these
answers are in my bio – go read it.” [laughs] Or do I find a new segment
in coming up with the answer? I like an interview that helps me reveal
not only myself to you, but reveals myself to me. So I would have to say
that the whole process of making this film was very interesting because
it involved on location, interviews, getting my insights on things, and
the way I saw things then versus how I see them now. It was also a
revelation of all the stories I have. I can write volumes with these
stories. So that’s the other thing, my friends have been telling me for
years that I need to write a book. The only thing that has kept me from
writing a book is that I don’t want to do the writing. I can do the
talking, and I have people who are willing to listen and do all the
writing and editing. I think I’m going to go ahead and do that, too, so
don’t be surprised if a book is coming out soon, too.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
The Buster Williams Interview
I first heard bassist Buster Williams on a Herbie Hancock recording called "VSOP Live." I remember thinking that their version of Hancock's "Toys" was pretty wild stuff. In addition to hearing him on some other recordings like Hancock's "Sextant", the group Sphere's "Four in One", or Sarah Vaughn's "Sassy Swings The Tivoli," my friend David Ephross and I used to sit around and listen to a recording Williams made as a leader called "Something More." Ephross transcribed some of the tunes off of this recording; we would play Williams classic "Christina" on many gigs. Williams is a gifted composer, but as a bassist, he is iconic; you always know his sound and his approach. There's no one else like him.
I met Williams at the East Coast Jazz Festival in ( I think) 1994. Williams called me for a 3 night gig in
Detroit sometime around 1995. I didn't even live in New York yet;
drummer Aaron Walker and I took the bus to New York to rehearse with
Williams, and then drove to Detroit from New York. I remember thinking
that I had a vibe with William's music, but maybe I wasn't ready to
really do it justice. Aside from a week long stint at Bradley's( it was
actually my gig with Williams and a then unknown tenor saxophonist named
Mark Turner) I didn't really hear from Williams again until 2001; I was
in Basel, Switzerland, checking my phone messages on a payphone:
"George, It's Buster. I want you to join my band." I've worked with
Buster on and off since then. The band was usually Lenny White on drums
and Steve Wilson on alto and soprano, although we also had Stefon Harris
on vibes occasionally.
I had so many great experiences on tours and gigs with Williams' group over all those years. Playing with Williams requires total concentration. You can't just expect to plow through tunes; in Williams' own words to one drummer who was looking more at the charts than listening to the music: "ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!" Williams, in the tradition of Miles Davis, always tries to hire musicians that inspire him, and that bring the music to a higher level. I always have fun on the bandstand trying to find just the right reharmonized chord to make Williams go "Whoooo!"
I had so many great experiences on tours and gigs with Williams' group over all those years. Playing with Williams requires total concentration. You can't just expect to plow through tunes; in Williams' own words to one drummer who was looking more at the charts than listening to the music: "ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!" Williams, in the tradition of Miles Davis, always tries to hire musicians that inspire him, and that bring the music to a higher level. I always have fun on the bandstand trying to find just the right reharmonized chord to make Williams go "Whoooo!"
We just finished a weekend jaunt at Smoke in New York City. I was able to sit down with Buster in the dressing room and score this wonderful interview.
GC: So... How are you?
BW: Good, George. How are you doing?
GC: Good. How’s your health? Everything’s good?
BW: Great, yeah, everything’s good.
BW: Good, George. How are you doing?
GC: Good. How’s your health? Everything’s good?
BW: Great, yeah, everything’s good.
GC: Okay, good. What are your earliest memories of music, when you knew what music was in the world?
BW:
Well, there was always music in the house because my father was a
musician. He played bass, drums, and piano. He always had his musician
friends over playing, they had rehearsals at the house.
GC: In Camden, New Jersey?
BW: Yeah. But even before then... at that time we had one of those roller pianos. You can play the rows with your foot and stuff. And my father was always playing his 78(rpm) records. Between the records and the roller piano... and I liked to sit there and play on the piano. Between the musicians and the piano and my father playing his records and practicing - that was another thing. I loved to watch him play the bass, I thought it was just so brilliant. And I can’t remember a time where there wasn’t music. It was always there, as far back as I can remember.
BW: Yeah. But even before then... at that time we had one of those roller pianos. You can play the rows with your foot and stuff. And my father was always playing his 78(rpm) records. Between the records and the roller piano... and I liked to sit there and play on the piano. Between the musicians and the piano and my father playing his records and practicing - that was another thing. I loved to watch him play the bass, I thought it was just so brilliant. And I can’t remember a time where there wasn’t music. It was always there, as far back as I can remember.
GC: When did you start playing bass?
BW: I started playing the bass, I guess I was about 13 or 14 or something like that. After I begged my father to teach me - ‘cause I had asked him to teach me piano and he started teaching me piano and I didn’t stick with it. Then I asked him to teach me drums and he started teaching me the drums and I thought I was just going to sit down and start bashing and he’s talking about “mamma daddy” paradiddle and I said “nah, this isn’t what I want to do, I want to play the drums!” So anyway, I didn’t stick with that. But I marveled at him playing the bass. Also he played a record with Oscar Pettiford, where Oscar Pettiford played “Star Dust”, solo bass.
BW: I started playing the bass, I guess I was about 13 or 14 or something like that. After I begged my father to teach me - ‘cause I had asked him to teach me piano and he started teaching me piano and I didn’t stick with it. Then I asked him to teach me drums and he started teaching me the drums and I thought I was just going to sit down and start bashing and he’s talking about “mamma daddy” paradiddle and I said “nah, this isn’t what I want to do, I want to play the drums!” So anyway, I didn’t stick with that. But I marveled at him playing the bass. Also he played a record with Oscar Pettiford, where Oscar Pettiford played “Star Dust”, solo bass.
GC: Ah! That’s funny, one of my students just transcribed that and learned it.
BW:
Really! But you know what captivated me? The way they had mic’ed the
bass, I could hear his thumb squeak as he slid up and down the neck of
the instrument. And that squeak - I mean, the notes were unbelievable
but that squeak - it was just so personal. I don’t know, that never left
my head. It was like a psychic event, I don’t know. But then when I
heard that, I pleaded with my father to teach me the bass and he finally
agreed.
GC: You were telling me a story before about him making you hold it with your thumb, right?
GC: So when did you start playing gigs?
BW:
Well... let me see. I guess it was in junior high school. My father had
a friend named Louis Judge, played saxophone. And Louis Judge had a gig
and my father couldn’t make the gig ‘cause he had another gig, so he
sent me on the gig. And I think that was one of my first professional
jobs. I think I made $5. In those days, they called it a nickel. If it
payed $10, it was ten cent. Twenty cent... fifty cent... hundred dollars
was a yard.
GC: So you were in junior high... at what point did you start doing major gigs?
BW:
Well... Jimmy Heath was in Philadelphia. And Jimmy Heath had a band
that included a piano player named Sam Dockery. And Sam Dockery was from
Camden.
GC: Would you say that Camden is kind of synonymous with Philly? Because it’s basically the same area.
BW: Yeah, it was right across the bridge. But Camden musicians always wanted to be known to have come from Camden and not Philly.
BW: Yeah, it was right across the bridge. But Camden musicians always wanted to be known to have come from Camden and not Philly.
GC: Ah, interesting.
BW:
In fact, when I left home to go on the road to go with Gene Ammons, I
was admonished
by all of my Camden musician friends. “Hey man, when they
do interviews, don’t tell them you’re from Philly, tell them you’re
from Camden!” So to the day, that’s always... that’s where I’m from.
Anyway, Sam Dockery was working with Jimmy Heath, and I was a “scener”
by now. And I would go over to Sam’s house every day and play. Sam
taught me a lot of stuff. And I wanted the gig with him and Jimmy Heath.
And I mentally prepared myself for that gig. The bass player on that
gig was also a bass player from Camden. His name was Bill Collick. Bill
Collick, I liked the way he play. But I wanted Bill Collick’s gig. Well
what happened was that Jimmy had a gig at a place on Vine Street in
Philadelphia. It was one of those places where they had a dance, and
people brought their own set up. They had two bands. The first band was
Sam Reed, an alto player. And the other band was Jimmy Heath’s band. So I
got the gig with Sam Reed. And the way I got the gig was there was a
jam session at this club called Rip’s around the corner from where I
lived. My father hosted the jam session, and on this Monday night my
father gave me the
gig. He said “you call who you want to be the band.” So I called guys
from Philly and I called Sam Reed. Because I always figured that I
wasn’t going to talk my way into my career, I had to play my way into my
career. So if I wanted these guys to hire me, they had to hear me. And I
wasn’t going to go and make myself a nuisance. So I got a gig, and I
hired Sam Reed. And sure enough, on Wednesday, Sam Reed called me for a
gig that was on Saturday, which was this gig where he was the band along
with Jimmy Heath’s band. So Jimmy Heath heard me play with Sam’s band.
That following week, I got a call from Jimmy Heath to join his band. So
my strategy worked.
GC: And at a certain point, you went with Gene Ammons.
BW: And I was with Jimmy Heath and the time that I got the call to go with Gene Ammons.
GC: You were still a senior in high school?
BW: I had just graduated from high school. And this gig was Nelson Boyd’s gig, the bass player who played with Charlie Parker. He was a friend of my father’s. And just like my first gig, my father couldn’t make the gig, Nelson Boyd couldn’t make the weekend with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt. So he asked my father to do it and my father couldn’t do it, so my father sent me.
BW: I had just graduated from high school. And this gig was Nelson Boyd’s gig, the bass player who played with Charlie Parker. He was a friend of my father’s. And just like my first gig, my father couldn’t make the gig, Nelson Boyd couldn’t make the weekend with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt. So he asked my father to do it and my father couldn’t do it, so my father sent me.
GC: Wow!
BW: So I worked with Gene Ammons. Friday night after the first set, him and Sonny Stitt told me they wanted me to stay with the band. So we played Friday and Saturday and early Sunday morning, like 5 in the morning, we left Philadelphia in two cars and went to Chicago. And I was on the road from then on.
GC: Wow... so you never went to college?
BW: You know, now during the time that I was with Jimmy Heath, I was attending Combs College of Music, in Philadelphia. And then I went on the road with Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons, and I was still in college, trying to balance the two things. And when I’d come back, when we’d have some time off, I’d go back. I had this great teacher named Whiggins. And Whiggins was an astonishing piano player, he made some great inventions also. He helped me make up all my stuff, my courses. He was my primary teacher. So I never really sat in a classroom, other than his. He taught me composition, syntax, harmony and theory - he was just amazing. He was my all-around music teacher. He didn’t teach me anything about the bass - my father taught me all that. But he taught me so much stuff about music.
BW: You know, now during the time that I was with Jimmy Heath, I was attending Combs College of Music, in Philadelphia. And then I went on the road with Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons, and I was still in college, trying to balance the two things. And when I’d come back, when we’d have some time off, I’d go back. I had this great teacher named Whiggins. And Whiggins was an astonishing piano player, he made some great inventions also. He helped me make up all my stuff, my courses. He was my primary teacher. So I never really sat in a classroom, other than his. He taught me composition, syntax, harmony and theory - he was just amazing. He was my all-around music teacher. He didn’t teach me anything about the bass - my father taught me all that. But he taught me so much stuff about music.
GC:
It’s interesting, as people get older it’s easy to get accustomed to
being a professional, but can you remember what it felt like to be in a
car with these jazz heroes? Was that an incredible thrill?
BW:
Oh, I’ll never forget it. Yeah. But you know, the thing about it
George, I don’t know about anybody else, but for me, it’s still an
incredible feeling. I marvel at what guys do on the bandstand. My
biggest thrill in playing this music is what I get from the guys and
girls that I play with. You know? I think it’s astonishing, just
astonishing! And I’m always saying “how do they do that?” So I’m always
trying to get to something. And I don’t think that that’s anything
remarkable - I just think that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m
supposed to be trying to get to something, man.
GC: Always.
BW:
So you know... as I get older, of course I know a whole lot more than I
knew back then, but man, it’s sort of like peeling an onion skin.
There’s no core like an apple, or a piece of fruit with a pit like a
peach - there’s no end! So I can’t fathom myself thinking of it any
other way because that’s the way it presents itself.
GC: So just going back - you were with Gene Ammons and Sonny Sitt - when did you move to New York?
BW: I moved to New York in 1968. I was with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, and then I did a period with a lot of singers. I worked with Dakota Staton, then I went with Betty Carter, then I went with Sarah Vaughan, then I joined Nancy Wilson.
BW: I moved to New York in 1968. I was with Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt, and then I did a period with a lot of singers. I worked with Dakota Staton, then I went with Betty Carter, then I went with Sarah Vaughan, then I joined Nancy Wilson.
GC: Did you learn anything from working with all those singers?
BW: Oh, every one of them. Every one of them.
BW: Oh, every one of them. Every one of them.
GC:
What would you say to a young bass player, or rhythm section player, or
really anybody that is interested in playing with singers?
BW: I’ll tell you, you know... see, there’s this weird idea that musicians don’t want to play with
singers. Well, everybody’s got their little
idiosyncrasies. But I tell you, if you have an opportunity to play with a
great singer, it’s something that’s going to shape your approach to
music in a big way, and in a very positive way. Every singer I worked
with, there’s something in particular that I took away. Sarah Vaughan
had perfect pitch. Sarah Vaughan made me really pay attention to each
note that I played. Betty Carter could sing a ballad slower than anybody
could even imagine. So she taught me patience. And she had a sense of
swing. Dakota Staton had a power about her. And Nancy Wilson was just -
she had emotion. And see, the thing that every musician needs to know is
the power and the significance and the real meaning of melody. And if
you are working with a singer, you get to see the importance of these
things. I remember one time my father was out on the road, and I was out
on the road with Nancy Wilson. And we happened to be home at the same
time. And I was telling my father how I was getting bored playing with
these singers, playing the same repertoire over and over, and I don’t
get a chance to express myself. My father told me, he says “I want you
to remember that the true gift is to be able to have your instrument in
your hand, night after night. If your job just demands that you play a
whole note tonight, then you just play this whole note better tonight
than you played it last night.” I’ll never forget that. That gave me not
only a respect for the opportunities that I had, but also how to view
everything as a point of development. How to use everything
to develop. In my career I’ve played a lot of different kinds of gigs,
I’ve played rhythm & blues, all kinds of stuff. But I learned from
my father that if you’re not in the moment, you’re missing the moment.
And if you’re missing the moment, then you’ve missed a valuable time in
your life that was necessary for you to appreciate the next moment.
BW: I’ll tell you, you know... see, there’s this weird idea that musicians don’t want to play with
 |
| Herbie Hancock, Buster Williams, and Billy Hart |
GC: Wow. Very wise... (pause) So you were with Nancy Wilson when you got called by Herbie to play with Miles?
BW: Yeah. That was in 1967. And that was like a dream come true. I looked at each gig as a stepping stone to the next one. And Miles was it, it’s where I wanted to go. Interesting enough it came at a time in my life where I was making good money. And I had a wife and a house.
BW: Yeah. That was in 1967. And that was like a dream come true. I looked at each gig as a stepping stone to the next one. And Miles was it, it’s where I wanted to go. Interesting enough it came at a time in my life where I was making good money. And I had a wife and a house.
GC: You were still in New York?
BW: I was living in Los Angeles. Had a yellow Corvette Stingway...
BW: I was living in Los Angeles. Had a yellow Corvette Stingway...
GC: (laughs)
BW:
I’m in L.A., I’ve been working with Nancy, she’s got me on retainer,
and I’m working with the Jazz Crusaders, and I’m in the recording studio
every day, I’m the number one sub for Ray Brown, and so everything was
just great. So I got the call to go with Miles, and that’s just icing on
the cake. But I couldn’t give up everything to stay with Miles, ‘cause
Miles asked me. And I said “well, Miles, this is what I got.” And he
says “well, I can’t give you a retainer.” And that’s it!
GC: Wow.
BW:
And Nancy at the beginning of the year, you got an itinerary that
covered the whole year. And she would take her times off but you knew
when you were gonna be off, so you could play on other things. And I was
still paid while she took her - what do you call them?
GC: Breaks? Sabbatical?
BW: Sabbatical! ‘Cause that’s how I worked with Miles for 5 weeks. She took another Sabbatical and I worked with him again, another 5-7 weeks, something like that.
GC: Breaks? Sabbatical?
BW: Sabbatical! ‘Cause that’s how I worked with Miles for 5 weeks. She took another Sabbatical and I worked with him again, another 5-7 weeks, something like that.
GC: What was the most important thing you learned from playing with Miles?
BW:
How to listen. How to listen, and how to respect what everyone else was
doing. See, in that band, Herbie Hancock had developed this phenomenal
ability to hear what everyone else was doing, and react to it in a way
that wasn’t mimicking, he could react to it in a way that was not only
answering what you said but preparing you to say what you wanted to say.
It was remarkable. And Miles did the same thing. So Miles never told
you what to do. He just demonstrated through his ability how to do it. I
mean, I learned so much from Miles - see that was one of those times in
my life that shaped the rest of my life. Miles had a sensitivity. When
he played a ballad, you knew he loved ballads, he’d play a ballad that
really described his heart. He could play any tempo and not be jarred by
anything you did because he was always aware of the quarter note. He
played that quarter note precisely. So whether it was a whole note or
half note, eighth note or sixteenth note, or thirty-second note or
sixty-fourth, he played it precisely. I’m still trying to do that.
GC: Have you seen Bob Gluck’s book about Mwandishi?
BW:
Yes, it’s a very good book. He came to interview me when he was first
preparing to start on that book. And then throughout his writing the
book we talked off and on. I like the book. Have you read it?
GC: Yeah. What was the best thing about that band for you?
BW: Oh, the searching. The searching. The feeling that, if there’s no searching involved, there’s no creativity. I mean searching to the point of really denying yourself comfort. Searching to the point of - this is my quest, I’ve gotta find it, I’ve gotta find something tonight. And it wasn’t easy. It was painful sometimes. But the beauty of it was just the greatest reward.
GC: Yeah. What was the best thing about that band for you?
BW: Oh, the searching. The searching. The feeling that, if there’s no searching involved, there’s no creativity. I mean searching to the point of really denying yourself comfort. Searching to the point of - this is my quest, I’ve gotta find it, I’ve gotta find something tonight. And it wasn’t easy. It was painful sometimes. But the beauty of it was just the greatest reward.
GC: Can you tell me when exactly you discovered Buddhism and how that changed your life?
BW: That was in 1972. My youngest sister had started chanting. She was going through a divorce, and she told me that while she was going through this she was chanting. This is what she was chanting for, this is how she wanted it to go. And it was one of those nasty divorces. And she came out in top shape, against all odds. And I was amazed. But that’s not what necessarily made me chant. My wife was in a car accident, she had a brain concussion. She was going back and forth to the doctors, they gave her a couple of spinal taps and did all kinds of stuff with her brain, and the prognosis was very negative. But she ran into my sister one day and my sister told her about the chanting. And I was in Europe. My wife and I were seperated at that time, and I was in Europe with Herbie. I called my wife to see how she was doing, and she told me that my sister had told her about Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō. I’m going “what is that? I don’t know what that is.” And says, “well, she wants me to go to a meeting, you think I should go?” So I said “sure, it sounds like it might be something that could help you.” So anyway, when I got back to the States I went to see my wife and she and my sister started telling me more about chanting and they took me to a meeting. And I found that all of the things that they were talking about made so much sense to me. And this religion was giving them something that my attempts at religion had never touched on. And I was a vegetarian at this time. But all of the things that I was doing weren’t even coming close to what kind of results they were getting from chanting Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō so I tried it. And you know, sure enough, I started seeing amazing results. When I started chanting, I had a prostate condition that I had had for ten years, and it had worsened to the point where they were getting ready to do an operation. And I was afraid of that. I started chanting, and just as it was time for me to go do this operation, my doctor checked me out and he says “wait a minute, you’re perfectly normal.” And this is after ten years of my prostate being swollen to the point of having to sit on hot water bottles. I couldn’t eat spicy foods, I couldn’t sit for long periods of time. I was constantly in pain. And the pain was gone, and my prostate was normal. And that was when I was 32 years old. Now I’m 71 and I’m still going. So that convinced me to continue, needless to say. There’s been revelations and benefits in abundance every day. But more than that, the change in my life that’s so subtle. It’s like your hair turning grey - you can try to watch it, but you’ll never see it turning grey. Putting on weight, you can watch but you never see it happen. You look at your fingernails, but you never see them grow. But the positive change, and the happiness that has come about in my life as a result of chanting has been amazing. Far beyond what I even dared to expect.
BW: That was in 1972. My youngest sister had started chanting. She was going through a divorce, and she told me that while she was going through this she was chanting. This is what she was chanting for, this is how she wanted it to go. And it was one of those nasty divorces. And she came out in top shape, against all odds. And I was amazed. But that’s not what necessarily made me chant. My wife was in a car accident, she had a brain concussion. She was going back and forth to the doctors, they gave her a couple of spinal taps and did all kinds of stuff with her brain, and the prognosis was very negative. But she ran into my sister one day and my sister told her about the chanting. And I was in Europe. My wife and I were seperated at that time, and I was in Europe with Herbie. I called my wife to see how she was doing, and she told me that my sister had told her about Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō. I’m going “what is that? I don’t know what that is.” And says, “well, she wants me to go to a meeting, you think I should go?” So I said “sure, it sounds like it might be something that could help you.” So anyway, when I got back to the States I went to see my wife and she and my sister started telling me more about chanting and they took me to a meeting. And I found that all of the things that they were talking about made so much sense to me. And this religion was giving them something that my attempts at religion had never touched on. And I was a vegetarian at this time. But all of the things that I was doing weren’t even coming close to what kind of results they were getting from chanting Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō so I tried it. And you know, sure enough, I started seeing amazing results. When I started chanting, I had a prostate condition that I had had for ten years, and it had worsened to the point where they were getting ready to do an operation. And I was afraid of that. I started chanting, and just as it was time for me to go do this operation, my doctor checked me out and he says “wait a minute, you’re perfectly normal.” And this is after ten years of my prostate being swollen to the point of having to sit on hot water bottles. I couldn’t eat spicy foods, I couldn’t sit for long periods of time. I was constantly in pain. And the pain was gone, and my prostate was normal. And that was when I was 32 years old. Now I’m 71 and I’m still going. So that convinced me to continue, needless to say. There’s been revelations and benefits in abundance every day. But more than that, the change in my life that’s so subtle. It’s like your hair turning grey - you can try to watch it, but you’ll never see it turning grey. Putting on weight, you can watch but you never see it happen. You look at your fingernails, but you never see them grow. But the positive change, and the happiness that has come about in my life as a result of chanting has been amazing. Far beyond what I even dared to expect.
GC: Does Buddhism help you stay positive in the face of everything that we face in humanity these days?
BW: Oh yeah. Yeah, you know... if your environment has to become something that is unstressful to you, or something that changes in your favor... we all look for that. “If I had a better job.” “If I had a prettier wife.” “If I didn’t have all these children.” “If I had more money”. We all look for something outside of us to change, in order for us to change. But it’s totally the opposite. Buddhism teaches that if you change, then everything else will change. You’re here, and I’m here, but the environment could be totally different depending on each one of us, according to what’s happening in your life and according to what’s happening in my life. The puppy could come in, it’s a different environment for that puppy. The roach crawls around, it’s a different environment for that roach. So contentment, the feeling of happiness or not in your life is not determined by your environment, it’s determined by you. And that’s the great power of Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō - it connects you with that unchanging force in the universe called the mystic law. “Renge” is cause and effect. Cause and effect. To chant Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō is to become in tune with this mystic law that’s in the universe, that’s in your life itself. So when you chant Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō, it’s like an explosion taking place in your life. Being out of tune, now you’re aligning yourself with this Myōhō Renge Kyō, this Buddha nature. And then you start seeing the changes in your environment, because your environment is always a reaction to you. So as you bring forth your Buddha nature, the Buddha nature in your environment starts to show. Things starts to work for you.
BW: Oh yeah. Yeah, you know... if your environment has to become something that is unstressful to you, or something that changes in your favor... we all look for that. “If I had a better job.” “If I had a prettier wife.” “If I didn’t have all these children.” “If I had more money”. We all look for something outside of us to change, in order for us to change. But it’s totally the opposite. Buddhism teaches that if you change, then everything else will change. You’re here, and I’m here, but the environment could be totally different depending on each one of us, according to what’s happening in your life and according to what’s happening in my life. The puppy could come in, it’s a different environment for that puppy. The roach crawls around, it’s a different environment for that roach. So contentment, the feeling of happiness or not in your life is not determined by your environment, it’s determined by you. And that’s the great power of Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō - it connects you with that unchanging force in the universe called the mystic law. “Renge” is cause and effect. Cause and effect. To chant Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō is to become in tune with this mystic law that’s in the universe, that’s in your life itself. So when you chant Nam Myōhō Renge Kyō, it’s like an explosion taking place in your life. Being out of tune, now you’re aligning yourself with this Myōhō Renge Kyō, this Buddha nature. And then you start seeing the changes in your environment, because your environment is always a reaction to you. So as you bring forth your Buddha nature, the Buddha nature in your environment starts to show. Things starts to work for you.
GC:
Do you think that that kind of attitude has helped you musically, for
example, being a sideman in countless different types of situations?
BW: Sure, sure. But I mean, the greatest thing is to be a sideman.
BW: Sure, sure. But I mean, the greatest thing is to be a sideman.
GC: Really?
BW: Yeah.
GC: Why?
BW:
Because that’s when you learn something. It’s hard to learn something
when you’re the boss. Ain’t nobody gonna tell you nothing. Plus, as the
boss, you’ve got a whole bunch of different problems.
GC: (laughs) Yeah.
BW: But as the sideman, I can learn. I can listen, I can learn. So being a sideman has taught me how to be a leader.
GC: Right. So I assume you believe in the philosophy of apprenticeship?
BW:
That’s the thing that’s missing these days. That’s the thing that can
possibly destroy the music. I say possibly because I don’t think the
music will ever be destroyed. We can sink to the lowest level, but we’ll
always rise again. But the mentor-disciple relationship is absolutely
necessary. It’s a requirement for learning this music. Without it,
there’s always going to be something missing in a person who has not
experienced that relationship.
GC: Your advice to young musicians?
BW: Choose another field! (laughs)
GC: (laughs) Wow! Well, uh, that’s...
BW: Choose another field! (laughs)
GC: (laughs) Wow! Well, uh, that’s...
BW:
No no, I’ll tell you what - my advice to young musicians is to do it
because you love it. Do it because you have to. Do it because it’s the
one thing that makes you happy. Do it because it’s your decision. And
strive to be the best, because that is your potential, and also, that is
the real truth of the noble ego. And see, the other thing too, is that
if you don’t strive to be your best, then you’re no good to anybody
else. There’s a big poster on bus signs, out there in the street, of a
picture of [Nelson] Mandela. And the caption is something of...
inspiration. I mean, it’s great to be an inspiration to others. If
you’re not, your whole life on this planet was for naught.
GC: Lastly, what do you think about tonight’s band?
[Buster Williams, Mark Gross, George Colligan, Paul Bollenback, Lenny White, Jean Baylor]
BW: I love it! We’re gonna kill! Taking no prisoners.
GC: Thank you, Mr. Williams.
Lawrence Sumulong /Courtesy of Jazz At Lincoln Center
Jazz Night In America: The Radio Program
Buster Williams: The Low End Maestro
The low end has always been
terra firma for Buster Williams, one of the all-time great bassists in
modern jazz. A sideman with experience all over the map — supporting
singers like Nancy Wilson and Sarah Vaughan,
and anchoring bands like the Jazz Crusaders and Sphere — he's probably
best known for his tenure with Mwandishi, the groundbreaking,
unclassifiable early-1970s group led by pianist Herbie Hancock. But Williams also has a long track record as a bandleader, notably with a nimble post-bop ensemble he calls Something More.
Jazz Night in America caught
a recent set by Buster Williams and Something More at Dizzy's Club
Coca-Cola, the in-house nightclub at Jazz at Lincoln Center. Featuring
Steve Wilson on alto saxophone, George Colligan on piano and Lenny White
on drums, the group struck a decisive balance between grounded and
exploratory, holding fast to a deeply swinging pulse. In this program,
you'll hear some highlights of the set, including a modal bruiser called
"Where Giants Dwell" and a lyrical ballad, "Christina." (The tunes, all
originals, also serve as a reminder of Williams' strong footing as a
composer.)
But there's also a wealth of
personal insight in this episode, which features a conversation between
Williams and one of his younger bass brethren, Jazz Night host Christian McBride. (Williams tells McBride about how he got his first gig, at 17, with saxophonists Gene Ammons and Sonny Stitt.)
We'll
also check in with filmmaker Adam Kahan, who's in the process of making
a documentary about Williams and has discovered no shortage of colorful
material in the process. Kahan shares some of his material with us,
including perspective on Williams' early life in Camden, N.J., where his
first bass teacher was his father. The documentary also provides us
with some duo interplay between Williams and a few close musical
partners: saxophonist Benny Golson, singer Carmen Lundy and pianist Larry Willis.
"The
greatest thing that a musician can do is surprise him- or herself,"
Williams says. "'Where did that come from?' You don't know how it came
about, but you hope it comes again. You keep exploring, and through this
exploration you find new answers, create new problems, you find that
your whole perception of yourself changes — and the world broadens. You
define yourself not by limitations but by possibilities."
Bass player and bandleader -- good luck finding another like Buster Williams
Buster Williams photo.
The first thing you need to know about Buster Williams is that it's a bad idea to ask him who's in his band.
[Listen/download MP3: "If I Should Lose You"]
"I hate that question," says the jazz veteran, speaking by phone from his home in Harlem. "You know, you don't hire Duke Ellington
because such and such is in his band. How many times did you ask
Cannonball Adderley who was in his band? How many times did you ask Horace Silver? Or Miles Davis?
And then (promoters) want to suggest who you should bring. Those kind
of questions just shut me down. I mean, I don't have anything else to
say to you."
If Williams, 64, seems a bit touchy, well, it's an
attitude he's earned as a bass player who's also a bandleader -- a
novelty in the jazz world, where bassists are expected to stand erect,
look polite and keep time. Maybe it's OK to sweat just a smidgen.
Gives you an inkling of why the late, great bassist Charles Mingus was such a mean, angry SOB, doesn't it?
Lucky for us interviewers, modern newspaper advertising permits us to know in advance who makes up the band Williams is bringing to Yoshi's on Monday and Tuesday, so we can get that out of the way right here. It's Stefon Harris on vibraphone, Patrice Rushen on piano, Lenny White on drums and Williams on bass. In other words, it's as close to a jazz super-group as anything on the circuit.
And it's not necessarily a band that could be thrown together by any old bass player. Williams, thanks to his choice of instrument, may not be a household name, but there is no bassist in the business more respected. Now that Ray Brown and Percy Heath have passed on, bassists who came up in the fire of bebop are few and far between, and there's probably no one with more jazz knowledge and history inside him than Williams.
He's been a first-call bassist since he was 17, when a lucky break landed him a gig with the Gene Ammons-Sonny Stitt band. From there he went on to play with, to name only a few, Betty Carter, Sarah Vaughan, Lee Morgan, McCoy Tyner, Sonny Rollins, Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock, Art Blakey and Benny Golson. He was in such demand in the '60s and '70s that he actually turned down an offer to become Davis' permanent bassist.
"So Miles asked me to stay in the band," Williams says. "Any other time in my life, I would have accepted without hesitation. But (at this time) I was also with (singer) Nancy Wilson, and Nancy was still paying me. I was on retainer, and it was sorta like, wow, I got all this security. I have a fine house in Granada Hills (Los Angeles County). I'm driving a yellow Corvette Stingray. My clothes are being tailor-made. And it was hard to give up all that. And anyway, I'm still working with Miles, so it's like I had everything."
Growing up in Camden, N.J., Charles Anthony Williams Jr. was the son of a professional bassist, drummer and pianist who, for a long time, didn't think young Buster had a future in music. "He started out teaching me piano, then we switched to drums, and it seemed as though I wasn't too serious," Williams recalls. "So when I asked him to teach me the bass -- which was really his heart -- he turned me down."
It was hearing a record by bassist Oscar Pettiford that got the young teenager interested in the instrument. "Oscar played a solo -- the melody and solo on 'Stardust.' And I was so impressed with that, I asked my father to teach me how to play the bass. After he said no, I had to get my mother to talk him into doing it. When he decided to do it, he made it very clear that 'You're not gonna back out on this one. You're gonna stick with it and do what I say.' "
Still in high school, Buster worked some gigs with saxophonist Jimmy Heath, who lived a couple of miles across the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, in Philadelphia. Soon after graduation, Buster got his big break when sax men Ammons and Stitt -- two of the most formidable boppers around -- needed a bassist for a date in Philly. They tried to hire his father, but he was working, "So my father sent me."
"I was shaking like a leaf," Williams says. "I showed up at the gig early, and Sonny Stitt, carrying two shiny horns, appeared. I stood straight up. He came over and said, 'You gonna make the gig?' I said, 'I'm gonna do my best, sir.' And Sonny got this sarcastic little frown on his face. And he asked me again, 'Are you gonna make the gig?' And I said again, 'I'm gonna do my best.' And he's not satisfied with that. So he says 'Are you gonna make the gig?' And I said, 'Yes, sir!' And finally he was satisfied."
He made the gig, and stuck with the group for two years, after which he was hired by singer Dakota Staton and spent the next several years supporting singers Carter, Vaughan and Wilson.
Why all those singers? "I don't know," Williams says. "I guess they all talk to each other. They like me because, I don't know, I guess I had the kind of sensitivity that they liked. And, you know, I did my best to play in tune. Sarah Vaughan made that essential. She had perfect pitch, so you could not play out of tune with Sarah Vaughan."
The ladies probably also appreciated the way Williams' powerful, elastic tone enveloped their bands like a security blanket. But Williams thinks his real secret is something that may seem obvious to the layperson, but that really isn't: the ability to listen.
"You can't complement any situation you're in unless you truly listen to everybody," Williams says, a lesson he learned from Stitt. "One of the first gigs I played with them, Sonny Stitt noticed me watching the drummer play his sock cymbal. We were playing a tune real fast, and Sonny Stitt realized that I was watching the sock cymbal to make sure I was keeping time. So he deliberately went and stood in front of the sock cymbal so I couldn't see it. And he looked at me and pointed to his eyes and said, 'No, no, not your eyes.' Then he pointed to his ears and said, 'Listen.' "
Williams' career as a leader began with a series of records, now out of print, in the mid-'70s, then took off in earnest when he decided to front a touring group after he made a 1989 record called "Something More" with Shorter, Hancock, Al Foster and trumpeter Shunzo Ono.
"Months later, I'm still enjoying this record, which is odd for me because usually when I spend so much time on a project, when I'm finished with it I don't even want to hear it again. You'd be surprised at how many records of mine I've never even heard," Williams says, laughing. "But I liked this record, and I had some opportunities to lead some gigs here and there, and I found that I actually enjoyed playing my compositions. So that's when I thought, 'OK, now it's time for me to put together a band.' Plus, I'm at this point where I've definitely put in my apprenticeship, and I truly believe that it takes years and years and years of apprenticeship before you can quality to be a bandleader."
That last point, critical to Williams' philosophy, is illustrated by his use of vibist Stefon Harris, who was unknown when he joined Williams' group in 1997, but is now one of the most celebrated young players in jazz, complete with two Grammy nominations. Harris, a stunning virtuoso and a promising composer, is busy leading his own bands, but remains loyal to Williams, who gave him one of his first high-profile jobs.
The story of how Harris joined Williams' group may sound familiar. "I was a student at the Manhattan School of Music in '96 or '97, and Steve Turre was a teacher there," Harris says. "Buster needed someone to sub (for his vibist, Roy Ayers), and Steve recommended me so highly that Buster hired me on the spot without even hearing me. I walked onto the bandstand with no rehearsals, and here we go. ... That was a group with (pianist) Geri Allen and Lenny White, and they were not easing up." Harris, needless to say, made the cut.
"Buster really gave me the first opportunity I had to be with an older musician who really schooled me in how to be a leader," the vibist continues. "He's been essential to my development. ... Musicians like Buster recognize the importance of jazz lineage. He has had younger musicians in his groups over the years, and he recognizes that as an essential part of the continuation of the art form."
Indeed, Williams believes jazz has suffered in recent decades because of the break in what he calls the mentor-disciple relationship. The sad truth is there are no longer many working bands led by veterans available to apprentice younger players.
"It happens that there are some great young talents on the scene now, and that's very promising," Williams says. "They need a chance and they need to be in a situation where they can be nurtured." But he says that the current marketplace fetishizes "young lions," who are thrust into the spotlight before they're ready. "They are taken away from the nurturers," Williams says. "You separate a person from that, and that person's growth is stifled."
It's a subject that gets Williams as heated as the challenge of being accepted as a bass player who's also the boss.
"I'm not a bandleader because the environment has given me such great support," he says. "I'm a bandleader because I'm so f -- determined."
Buster Williams and Something More: 8 and 10 p.m. Monday and Tuesday, Yoshi’s, 510 Embarcadero West, Oakland. Tickets $10-$18. (510) 238-9200. www.yoshis.com .
THE MUSIC OF BUSTER WILLIAMS: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH BUSTER WILLIAMS
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