https://www.allaboutjazz.com/musicians/stacy-dillard

STACY DILLARD

“Hey man, this (censored) can play. This MF can PLAY!” --Wynton Marsalis

As well as being a sideman, Stacy Dillard is currently leading three bands of his own. cPhyve is the genesis project, along with cPhour, which is stylistically similar to cPhyve. The Other Side is exactly what the name says. The cast of members are the same as cPhyve, but r&b/funk/hip-hop oriented.

To sum it all up, Stacy Dillard is a perfect example of the fusing of tradition and innovation, the combination which keeps EVERYTHING fresh, exciting, energetic, theraputic, and more importantly, real.

https://burningambulance.com/2011/07/11/stacy-dillard/

STACY DILLARD

by burning ambulance

Saxophonist Stacy Dillard has been around for a few years, but was unknown to me until J.D. Allen dropped his name as a peer in our interview. I decided to check out his work, and got hold of two albums—2009’s One, on the Smalls label, and this one, his debut for Criss Cross, released in March of this year. He’s got two others that I haven’t heard…yet.

One was a swirling, Fender Rhodes-driven effort that drifted back and forth between vintage soul jazz and the more atmospheric feel of Miles Davis‘s In a Silent Way. Good and Bad Memories, by contrast, is an almost purely acoustic effort, except for the work of guitarist Craig Magnano, who also appeared on One. He and Dillard are joined by pianist Orrin Evans, bassist Ryan Berg, and drummer Jeremy “Bean” Clemons for a set of eight very traditional hard bop tunes, two of which—”Over and Over” and “Stizzozo”—also appeared in slightly shorter versions on One.

Dillard’s compositions are simple, bluesy choruses built as sturdy platforms for melodic soloing. There’s nothing showily complex about his work; he’s not as interested in displaying technique, or carrying out complicated harmonic or rhythmic stunts, as, say, Walter Smith III, Ambrose Akinmusire or Jason Moran (all of whose work I enjoy). I’d liken him to Hank Mobley, a guy who played down the middle, aiming for the heart or the gut rather than the head. And there’s no shame at all in being Hank Mobley. In fact, it’s a far greater shame that his work isn’t as appreciated today as that of some of his contemporaries. I suspect Stacy Dillard may be less of a critics’ darling than some of his peers, but I also suspect he’d be a real pleasure to see live.

The album opens with “Pleasant,” a tune that starts out living up to its title in an almost placid fashion but soon becomes a barn-burner with plenty of solo space for Magnano, Evans and the leader. This sets up a pattern which recurs throughout the disc; Dillard always grants plenty of space to his sidemen, sometimes even seeming like a reluctant leader, with the result that six of the eight tracks go past the seven-minute mark, and two of them (“There’s No Need” and “Stizzozo”) are more than nine minutes long. They’re never boring, though, even when the musicians are playing firmly within the hard bop tradition. The production is crisp and clear, with Berg’s bass thick and rubbery and Clemons’ drums sharp, especially his swift attacks on the toms. Dillard’s horn is buzzy and human, lacking the bludgeoning force of Sonny Rollins or David S. Ware but also avoiding the 1930s nostalgia of, say, late-period Archie Shepp. Magnano is a very clean player, more in the manner of Jim Hall than Grant Green, let’s say. And Orrin Evans is as fleet and inscrutable as ever.

Dillard and a version of this band (the guitar slot is listed as TBD) will be performing Tuesday night, July 12, at the Jazz Standard in New York. Based on this album, it ought to be a very solid set of melodic, mainstream jazz—no stunts, no compositional gimmickry, just dudes who can play getting up and doing so. Lately, that’s all I want. YMMV.

—Phil Freeman

Stream the album on Spotify

https://blackcatsf.com/event/stacy-dillard-his-west-coast-collective-2-2-2-2/

STACY DILLARD & HIS WEST COAST COLLECTIVE

Sunday, August 19, 2018 @ 7:00 pm - 11:30 pm

“A young saxophonist of serious promise” (Ben Ratliff, The New York Times), Stacy Dillard has caught the attention of many with his large and rich tone, developed ideas and accurate technique. He is a perfect example of the fusing of tradition and innovation, the combination which keeps everything fresh, exciting, energetic, therapeutic, and more importantly, REAL. His sound is big, brawny, and surging in the manner of tenor masters Sonny Rollins and Joe Lovano. His music covers a few distinct stylistic bases–hard bop, post bop, the early days of fusion (circa 1968/’69). When Stacy plays at Black Cat, he is supported by Bay Area jazz greats.

Stacy Dillard plays regularly at NYC’s jazz institution, and has played with Winard Harper, Cindy Blackmon, Lenny White, Norman Simmons, Frank Lacy, Wycliffe Gordon, Eric Reed, Roy Hargrove, Stephon Harris, Ernestine Anderson, Terrell Stafford, Herlin Riley, John Hicks, Frank Wess, Mulgrew Miller, Clark Terry, Victor Lewis, Steve Wilson, Johnny O’neal, Antonio Hart, Russell Malone, Lewis Nash, Mark Whitfield, the Mingus Big Band, and a host of others in different genres of music, including Shirley Ceasar, Alex Bugnon, Stephanie Mills and Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.

Stacy Dillard leads three bands of his own – his genesis project cPhyve, cPhour – which is stylistically similar to cPhyve, and r&b/funk/hip-hop oriented The Other Side. See him live this week, at Black Cat, with his West Coast Collective. Book your tickets now!

https://www.wbgo.org/music/2021-07-20/stacy-dillard-aims-high-with-a-blend-of-confidence-soul-and-camaraderie

Music

July 20, 2021

PHOTO: Stacy Dillard. Jonathan Chimene/ WBGO

As venues are reopening and work is returning for musicians and presenters, saxophonist and bandleader Stacy Dillard has a recommendation for success in a new era. It involves the ability of the greater community to bond together and not forget its recent past.

"We need each other," Dillard told me recently, for Let Me Tell You 'Bout It. "Society suffers from amnesia a lot....we saw what it was like to not have [music], and we need to keep in mind how much we actually love it."

Since his arrival in New York almost two decades ago, Dillard has closely mined musical kinship with his peers. One such grouping involves a tight-knit trio with drummer Ismail Lawal and bassist Diallo House that dazzles audiences on the road and at their weekly Saturday night residency in Smalls Jazz Club. In the latter situation, this band's concentrated dose of sophistication, grit and groove is potent enough for weekend party goers while remaining deft enough for sophisticated insiders.

"Camaraderie is a big part of this," Dillard said. I've been fortunate to have had bands that I've either led or co-led, and without force, each individual of the band is cool with every member equally. When you build that safety...you feel as if you can fall backwards, and you know that they're going to catch you."

As a saxophonist, Dillard's plays straight from the heart. His lyrical yet gutsy approach to the tenor and soprano saxophones have also made room for him alongside notable players such as pianists Eric Reed and Cyrus Chestnut, drummer Willie Jones III, bassist Ben Wolfe and in a three-tenor front line with JD Allen and Marcus Strickland.

One early indicator that his skills were ready for global appreciation happened early on in his playing career when Dillard, attending a weekly jam session in Cincinnati in 2002, encountered the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra fresh off their gig with instruments in tow and looking to unwind with a few area pros. Along for the hang was JALC's artistic director and creative chair, trumpeter Wynton Marsalis.

"We were all playing 'Softly As In A Morning Sunrise' and after I finished a solo, Wynton gave me this look and said, 'Man, you can play.' We had a long conversation after [the session] and that night gave me a great boost of confidence." Two weeks later, Dillard left Ohio and relocated to New York.

In our conversation, Dillard speaks more about that confidence and the importance of investigating life experiences to arrive at an individual sound. And in a fun lightening round, he shares three genre-spanning albums that have helped to shape his musical approach and outlook.

ABOUT THE INTERVIEWER:

Greg Bryant has been a longtime curator of improvisational music. At the age of 3 in his hometown of Nashville, Tennessee, he was borrowing his father’s records and spinning them on his Fisher Price turntable. Taking in diverse sounds of artistry from Miles Davis, Les McCann, James Brown, Weather Report and Jimi Hendrix gave shape to Greg's musical foundation and started him on a path of nonstop exploration.

'

https://www.jazzspeaks.org/jazz-speaks/vibewriters-jd-allen-stacy-dillard-and-marcus-strickland-speak

Vibewriters: JD Allen, Stacy Dillard, and Marcus Strickland Speak

January 28, 2020

Jazz Speaks

This weekend, The Jazz Gallery brings together three leaders who push the tenor saxophone lineage in varied directions. Named for the three-headed monster king, Ghidorah features JD Allen, Stacy Dillard and Marcus Strickland, artists who have developed distinctive, resonating connections to their instrument.In a joint interview, they spoke with The Jazz Gallery about melodic rub of the bass, sound signatures and their own long-percolating thoughts on the most damaging misnomer of all: “chordless trio.” The Jazz Gallery: You all have ways of cuing other players on the bandstand without actually saying anything. JD, you seem to cue the other members of your band entirely with your horn, whether it's a feel change, a tempo change or moving into a different section—repeating a phrase now and then or using a quotation. I remember on one tune you were playing what sounded like this “Witch Hunt” melody fragment. Can you talk about your instincts for cuing the other players?

JD Allen: Don Cherry was very much into that during the ’60s. If you check out Complete Communion—there’s a few great live recordings of him doing it. That’s where I got that from. And Sonny Rollins’ band in the ’60s was known to do things like that; so that in itself, that’s where that comes from. Now why I do it—the whole focus for me is to make it to the ballad, because that’s when you can sell something and people allow you to do all kinds of other crazy stuff. I’ll notice people will come up sometimes and say, “I don’t know what the hell you guys did, but that ballad—I really loved that ballad.” Marcus Strickland: Exactly (laughs). Go head. JDA: I get into a ballad and I try to give people kind of a moment of resting from what they heard, good or bad, and then I try to scatter that notion by going into something else, unexpected—maybe a drum solo or another tune. But yeah, I do have cues. It could be a fragment of another melody of where I wanna go to or wherever I wanna go back to, but you’re right. Now the “Witch Hunt” reference, I love Wayne Shorter, so that’s possible. That could have happened. I’ll have to go back and investigate.

TJG: Somewhere in the middle of your second set, you went into “Solitude.”

JDA: Yeah, “Solitude.”

TJG: I remember thinking, “Wow. He really made us wait for the ballad.”

JA, MS + Stacy Dillard: [Laughs]JDA: I can promise you a ballad. I don’t know anything else, but I do know I have a ballad in every set. Or I try to anyway. And I thought it was really appropriate because I was in my solitude. [The audience was] talking so much, and I can hear what people are saying when I play a ballad. I can hear all kinds of conversations and I feel like, in some ways, I’m a soundtrack to whatever madness is going on.

TJG: The Smalls audience is unpredictable.

JDA: Oh I love it. They can talk all they want, we’re still gonna play [laughs].

TJG: All of you guys, again, have a distinct way of interpreting melody, or maybe I should say connecting to melody. Marcus, I know from past interviews I've read that melody was an important consideration for you when you were putting together your most recent release on Blue Note, Nihil Novi. Whether you're playing live or in the studio, what are some of the different ways you allow the melody to inform how you craft a solo, or improvise more broadly?

MS: That’s definitely the main thing I’m referencing when I start a solo. Your first passage through the song is probably going to be from there. I take that as a reference, and I try to expound on it. That’s where improvisation kind of stems from, embellishing on the melody. So I’m really strong on that, and all these other guys are strong on that, too.

TJG: Stacy?

SD: I’m kind of similar to Marcus on that, with the whole embellishing on the melody. It goes back, for me, to listening to R&B and funk and that stuff — listening to the melodies and seeing how the singers go off the melody and how they riff. It’s going to depend on how you articulate the melody when you do blow. You know how Aretha Franklin would vibe at the end of a song. They might loop or something, and she’d riff. It’s a lot like that. Keep it home, and then take off, if you want to.

TJG: Since we’re talking about singers, over the years Marcus, I’ve heard you with singers in different contexts. Jean Baylor is on your most recent recording and I've heard you guys playing together live. Would you talk about playing with singers and comping for singers on your horn?

MS: There’s a whole lot of fluidity and soul to the way a singer phrases the melody. That’s what we’re going for on the horn anyway, so it’s always a treat to play with them. And also, I would say to the young players who are starting learn how to do that, to not become a parrot. JDA + SD: [Laughs]MS: Regurgitating exactly what the singer did, in the cracks, that’s like number-one no-no. JA: They hate that. MS: But rather, do something complementary, and also try to hear the way that they’re hearing. Really listen to the way that they’re shaping the melody—the phrasing is everything. So just open your ears to them as much as they’re open to the drummer and pianist and bassist. Hopefully they’re doing that, too.

TJG: Okay some of these are out of order.

JDA: That’s cool. I’m definitely an out-of-order cat.

TJG: Speaking of phrasing, Stacy, your connection to time is distinctive. The rhythmic development of these spontaneous compositions you create on the bandstand is just as compelling as whatever you’re doing harmonically from one moment to the next. What are you looking for in a bass player and drummer when you're putting a band together?

SD: I’m looking for them to be looking for each other. That’s gotta happen. Especially in a trio setting—which you’ve probably heard me play the majority of the time when I’m [downtown]—everybody’s gotta know the music. In and out. It’s actually quite simple. Camaraderie helps a lot. That’s very important to me. I can’t hit with you if I can’t vibe with you. I will, because business is business sometimes, but if I got a choice, nah man. Those are the things. The fact that it’s a trio—we’re still like an orchestra. Everybody’s got added responsibility. That doesn’t necessarily mean play more or play louder or play faster. We don’t wanna sound like a quartet or a quintet. You wanna sound like what you are, but still be full with it.

TJG: JD, what’s the most rewarding challenge of playing with a “chordless” trio?

JDA: I don’t mean to step on anybody’s term, but we’re using European harmony; can you tell me some chordless harmony in European classical music? There’s still chords happening. One, five, seven — those are odd numbers, and then the even numbers will give you the clusters. You know why I say that—playing without a piano is no longer a novelty. When people see chordless or piano-less, there’s the assumption it’s associated with not being schooled or knowledgeable of what’s going on.

TJG: Interesting.

JDA: Yeah. I didn’t go to jazz school. Everything from jazz school—at least from the younger people I’m working with or coming in contact with—is really a chord scale-based type music. Anybody can get up there—if anything it’s more about space or an absence of space. That’s a whole other thing, because if you think “chordless,” then you won’t address the chords: “Oh, there’s no chords, so I’m not gonna address it.” When I met Ornette Coleman, he had chords. He was talking about changes. Anytime I hear that, it’s like a thorn in me. Piano-less or guitar-less—but chordless is just not [accurate]. I know I’m cracking Stacy up here. I finally got it in! I think a lot of people when they play in that situation, they think that. That’s what it sounds like — they think they’re playing chordless. MS: MmhmJA: If you have a chord that has upper extensions on the piano in saxophone trio, who cares? I mean, so what? You got no piano player there, so you can do all the flat 13ths that you want, won’t make no damn sense. SD: [Laughs]MS: Exactly. SD: Alright let me say something because I gotta get back to this rehearsal.

TJG: Okay we can dismiss Stacy officially after this question.

SD: No, I don’t wanna leave! We just gotta keep it moving. Everyone: [Laughs]MS: The one thing I’ll say about the piano-less trio is it definitely leaves a lot of space, and it also uncovers so much more beauty out of the melody and the bass underneath the melody — how that rubs against each other to make a sound together—all that stuff becomes much more beautiful, in my opinion. Like, hearing Sonny Rollins play—hearing how you can have a countermelody in the bass and melody in the sax, hearing how that rubs together and then having Max Roach encasing all that with basically Africa—the sounds of Africa—it’s just a much more naked sound, if you don’t have the piano covering all that stuff up. So it really makes that more prominent, the voice of the saxophone and how it’s supported by the bass. SD: Can I add something?

TJG: Yes.

SD: Now all you piano players and guitar players out there, don’t get mad when I say this. But the thing about trio playing is, you got a whole lot more harmonic and rhythmic freedom, as well as the melodic freedom, when it comes to making a terrain. A lot of people get mad at a loud drummer, or this that and the other playing too much stuff. But I have more problems when somebody’s comping and not listening. I have more problems with a “chord player” comping and not listening because they’re just chonking away at the chords like it’s a play-along and they’re not listening to what’s going on. That’s a whole lot of clutter. I might have an idea—I might be thinking, I’ll drop this accidental right there, bam! But you ain’t listening. But the thing about trio is, as I said, it gives you a whole lot of rhythmic and harmonic freedom. Like the brother said earlier, it is chords in here now. Don’t sleep. JDA: I have to say, this is great to be a part of—I don’t wanna say “project” because I don't believe in that word either. MS: [Laughs]JDA: This “crew.” I’m hearing their take on things, and I’m learning. It’s important that you continue to learn, and see how your comrades do things. It helps you get to things you need to get to. We all got things we need to get together, and it’s great to be around two great saxophonists, just to hear them conversing about this. My take on the trio thing is: When you hear people ride down the street with the latest thing that’s on the radio, I never hear piano. I never say, “Man, those chords are nice!” SD: Not anymore. JDA: And I’m probably the oldest out of the whole crew. When I was coming up in Detroit and you would hear cats riding on the street, you’d only hear the bass and drums. MS: Mmhm. JA: They’d say, “Man I like that beat,” or “Man, that bass!” But it was never like, “Man—those changes!” JDA: How I like to think about it is: Bass, drums and saxophone is the closest thing to Urban America—what’s going on now. It’s like a link to hip hop and, well I can’t say “mainstream radio” because it’s kind of trash music. I know I do listen to it [laughs]. It’s our link to what’s going on. We all basically share the same American clave which is 2 and 4. With the bass and drums—as far as I’m concerned—when I’m playing, I’m doing the same thing that a hip hop artist would do. My emphasis, at least in my opinion, is on the bass and drums. That’s the connection to Urban America. MS: Right on. JA: It’s in defiance of—well I’m anti composition. I don’t believe in big compositions. Lupe Fiasco did that for me with the Food & Liquor record. I noticed he was able to get things done in two or three minutes, max. So I don’t need a composition that’s got 10 pages. I just need a good hook. So bass and drums allows me to move very light, and get right to the point. So just to let you guys know, I’m probably bringing in like 3-bar tunes. SD + MS: [laugh]MS: Love it. JDA: I try to write stuff that sounds a little bit different every time. We just went into the studio and recorded another record, and my drummer asked me, “Is it going to be the same?” I said, “Man don’t even ask me that.” It’s going to be however I feel at the time. Everything is so composition based, which is great. But I’m more of the Sam Rivers mentality where it’s spontaneous compositions—just vehicles where it can get you to a point, to help guide you into a direction. I’m not a songwriter. I’m a vibe writer. [Laughs] that’s my MO. “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” is the greatest song ever written, and that’s just 8 bars—and it’s still valid. MS: Yeah. JDA: And I attribute that to the hip hop music that I’ve listened to, and do listen to. Those hooks are not long compositions. They allow people to come in and link up to the vibe. That’s kind of how I view writing. Even running my set, it’s all about: We got five ideas we can just juggle around and bring back in whenever we want. So young people, listen to Marcus Strickland, because he’ll guide you in the right way.

Everyone: [Laughs]

JDA: You wanna make some money, listen to Marcus. SD + MS: [Laugh]JDA: Marcus is the man. I never did an interview with these other guys, but this is a lot of fun.

TJG: Okay well Stacy does have to get back to a rehearsal so I have to wrap up the interview, and I wanna pose a final question to all of you, starting with Marcus: What’s most misunderstood about the tenor legacy and lineage?

MS: Hm. That’s a good question. I don’t really see it as a misunderstood thing because all the representation is pretty accurate. Whenever somebody shows an image of somebody playing the tenor saxophone, it’s usually Coltrane or Sonny Rollins—somebody like that. So I don’t think people are misinterpreting it. I would like to see, in big band writing, somebody give a solo to another instrument for once. That would be good.JDA: [Laughs]

TJG: Stacy?

SD: Well from that question, what I get—I don’t wanna pinpoint it to the tenor legacy, so to speak, but more so to the individual—to the musician—the way that you’re going about your music and changing over time. It ain’t just tenor players. Think about this question right quick: “What school did you go to?” Think about that question. Now think back to Louis Armstrong. Duke Ellington. All them cats. Nobody was asking them what school they went to. And the way we’re learning the way people are being taught in the schools now—is the equivalent of, let’s say you get dressed to go out at night. Bout to go kick it, right? But you’re in the mirror getting ready, and you’re rehearsing what you’re gonna say to chicks when you pick them up. MS + JA: [Laugh] SD: No. No, but a lot of the music is presented that way. A lot of players got the “improv” already ready. And that’s when it suffers. That’s why you hear a lot of people sounding alike. I know I do. If no one else will say it, I’ll say it. Motherfuckers out here sounding just alike because they looking at the same pick-up lines. And it ain’t gonna fall like that. You gotta be able to talk to whoever you talk to when you talk. And it ain’t just a tenor thing. It’s for every instrument, really. JDA: This speaks to this particular band: Without having played one note yet, I know we’re a crew just by this conversation. SD: Mmhm. JDA: When a person comes to see us, they’re going to hear three different points, just in terms of sound—of tone—about how the tenor saxophone can sound. And to kind of link onto what Stacy’s talking about, I think the biggest misrepresentation of the tenor saxophone is that you can’t have individual tones. You can. That’s really your signature—your sound—especially when you play the tenor saxophone. MS: Yeah. JDA: Sonny Rollins sounded entirely different from John Coltrane in terms of phrasing and tone. Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young: different ways of phrasing, different tones. Wardell Gray and Dexter Gordon—it’s kind of like Moses and Jesus or Moses and Aaron. It’s for the same cause; it’s just a different way. And when you come to see us, you’re going to hear three different ways, just in how to present sound alone. SD: Yeah, you’re going to hear three people who ain’t practicing they pickup lines in the mirror. JDA: And I think our generation is the last of that school of, “Hey, you gotta find your sound.” And your sound is your voice. That’s who you are. And you can’t get that from a mouthpiece. That comes from listening.

Ghidorah plays The Jazz Gallery on Friday January 31 and Saturday February 1, 2020. The band features Mr. Allen, Mr. Dillard and Mr. Strickland on tenor saxophone, Eric Wheeler on bass and Rodney Green on drums. Sets are at 7:30 and 9:30 P.M.

https://www.last.fm/music/Stacy+Dillard/+wiki

Biography

Stacy Dillard, raised in Muskegon Heights, Michigan, started playing the saxophone at a rather late age. In his hometown, there isn't much music happening, but only Robert Moore, Stacy's band instructor, and a host of close friends. Athletics was a big part of his life, leading to the late start on the instrument. Stacy attended college at Central State University in Wilberforce, Ohio to study with Dr. William Denza, Jim Smith, Chris Berg, and Lenard Moses. Very quickly, Dillard acquired the necessary knowledge that would soon put his name out on the local scene. It was a run-in with Wynton Marsalis in Dayton, Ohio that would turn his attention to the New York Scene. After graduation, Stacy took the act to Cincinnati, where he stayed for a short time and made his first recording appearance with Mike Wade on trumpet, drummer Melvin Broach and pianist William Menefield. Maturation was very rapid, finally leading the way to New York.

Dillard has played with Winard Harper, Cindy Blackmon, Lenny White, Norman Simmons, Frank Lacy, Wycliffe Gordon, Eric Reed, Roy Hargrove, Stephon Harris, Ernestine Anderson, Terrell Stafford, Herlin Riley, John Hicks, Frank Wess, Mulgrew Miller, Clark Terry, Victor Lewis, Steve Wilson, Johnny O'neal, Antonio Hart, Russell Malone, Lewis Nash, Mark Whitfield, the Mingus Big Band, and a host of others in different genres of music, including Shirley Ceasar, Alex Bugnon, Stephanie Mills, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, and more.

https://smallslive.tumblr.com/post/44977239197/stacy-dillard

STACY DILLARD

world peace through music.

October 30, 2012

http://smallsjazzclub.com

Stacy Dillard has made a name for himself as one of the premier saxophonists of his generation, working alongside leaders like Roy Hargrove, Mulgrew Miller, John Hicks, Lenny White, Stefon Harris, Clark Terry, and Steve Wilson, among many others. He can be heard on the new Dezron Douglas Quintet record, recorded live at Smalls, and will appear this Tuesday night as part of the Smalls Round Midnight series, in a sextet co-led by pianist, Theo Hill and trumpeter, Josh Evans.

You grew up in Michigan, correct?

I am from Muskegon Heights, Michigan,but my family comes by way of Indianola, Mississippi. Northwestern Mississippi, kind of.

…And was soprano saxophone your first instrument?

Saxophone was my first instrument; alto. I was 15, going on 16. It was probably about a month before my birthday; I was watching TV, and I saw a horn player, some drums, the upright bass, and piano – to this day, I couldn’t tell you who it was. They were playing straight up jazz, and at the time I had no clue what that was, but I was so drawn to it, I was like “I want a saxophone!” My parents gave me the whole bit, “We’re not buying you a saxophone, that’s ridiculous. It costs too much money!” I’m the youngest of five – three of my older siblings had picked up instruments and not stuck with them very long at all. Two years, max. But I found out you could rent saxophones at this place, the Christian Music Center. I rode my bike over there one day: “90 days, 90 dollars.” I had a little job at the time; I told my parents the deal, and they got me an alto. A friend of mine from around the corner, Omar Fox, he plays. His father plays too — William. He played the same model of soprano that I play now, and he would let me borrow it sometimes. That’s when the love hit! When I graduated high school, my parents bought me a soprano. That was it!

What were you listening to that influenced you early on?

When I was in Ohio, I was in the introduction stage of playing straight ahead. Right before that, I was just playing anything I heard. I knew I wanted to play the saxophone, but I didn’t necessarily put a genre to what I wanted to do. I just wanted to be able to play what I liked. Through the scene, being in Ohio, going to school there, that’s what led me to the straight ahead scene — listening to people like J.D. Allen, like Anthony Wonsey on that album with Nick (Payton), “Nick at Night.” Early on, they both showed me so many things, at different ends of the spectrum. Also, Eddie Bayard, tenor player from Harrisburg, PA. Mike Wade, trumpet player from D.C., residing in Cincinnati right now. Drummer Melvin Broach. All the Cincinnati ,Indianola and Dayton, Ohio cats. Lincoln Berry, Hank Marr, two organists. They all showed me different things, and pretty much led me to one place, which is a realization about this music, and the freedoms of it, and how it represents nature, and life, more so than most other forms of music I’ve dealt with.

Because, when you play a pop gig — and nothing against it, because I love it all — depending on your instrument, your emotional input is capped somewhere. But in jazz, you can have ten different bands playing the same song, and they’ll all be different; because, while the composition will be captured, the individual essence still will be felt. At a pop gig, the drummer’s got a job. The bass player’s got a job. The general listening public won’t be able to say, “Oh, that’s ‘so-and-so’ on drums!” But with jazz, it matters. Like with life, everybody matters, unless you believe a slave society is correct. But jazz doesn’t promote that.
In any other style of music, take the singer. That’s usually the person with the freedom, with the ability and the clearance to express all this emotion and put all this emotion out. With jazz, everybody gets to be the singer, while playing their role.

What made you decide to come to New York to pursue a career here?

As much as I don’t put myself above — and definitely not below — anybody else, I’m competitive. New York is the place where the baddest motherfuckers are. I wanted to be in a place where they were, that was the main thing. You can feel the intensity, the difference, the urgency. That vibe is pushing you in every way. I wanted to deal with that. I wanted to go somewhere that, when I got there, I would be at the bottom. I would start at the bottom and learn, even if it meant failing after a long time of doing it. I wanted to be open to the “everything,” if that makes sense.

Who were some of your teachers when you first got to town?

I say this a lot — my teachers are always people that have no clue that they’re my teachers, because as far as they’re concerned, we’re just peers. They’re not in a “teaching position,” I’m not in a “student position.” We’re just hanging. We might be having a beer or catching a train together, and I’ll ask a question, and it’s up to me to listen to their response. Most of music is psychological, anyway. Practicing your horn is something you do to get your mind and your instrument together, just like your mind and your hands, or your feet are together. But a big part of playing with people is psychological. An open mind helps a lot in music. An open mind helps a whole lot — the more open…the more open! You can practice scales alone all day, and marry yourself to a specific conceptual mindset, but if you allow another person to teach you even a little bit, that can open your mind way up.

Who have been the cats surrounding you that have helped you develop your musical concept the most since you’ve been in New York?
Jeremy “Bean” Clemons. Over the past 8 ½ of these ten years that I’ve been here, he’s taught me so much. Damn! It’s ridiculous. Musically, he’s a genius. I know this more than most people would. I still have mini-disc recordings from when we did these gigs at Cafe Creole on MacDougal Street. We used to be down there on Sundays. Ameen Saleem was on bass, Ryan Weaver on piano, who I wish was still here in New York. J.D. came in and sat in one time, and I said “Can you do this every week?” and he said, “Actually, yeah!” and he did. I had a batch of tunes I’d been working on — week after week we would incorporate more music from the members of the band. I had a separate band at the time as well, me and Bean, Ryan Berg, and Craig Magnano. We all lived together on 129th and Lenox. We even recorded a couple of our CDs there in the apartment [laughs]. So Bean was definitely one of those teachers who didn’t know he was my teacher. J.D. was another one. He taught me more about the horn and the importance of sound. Bean taught me orchestral sense. He taught me how to turn whatever’s on the bandstand into an orchestra.

Tell me about the group you’ve been performing with at Smalls, lately, Brooklyn Circle.

This is a totally different band than the other ones I’ve told you about: Diallo House, bassist, and Ismail Lawal, drummer. Also we’ve got Michael-Louis Smith, guitar, Knox Chandler, guitar, Andy Carballeira B3 organ, and Brian Jackson, piano. That’s Brian Jackson, famous for all those collaborations with Gil-Scott Heron. The gig at Smalls is just me, Ismail, and Diallo, music that all three of us wrote. Same concept as the other bands — built on the same foundation, to vibrate a certain way, make you feel a certain way. This don’t happen all the time, but this is the shit right here — when someone says, “I had a shitty day, but I came here and listened to this music, and I feel alright now!” When I hear something like that, that’s what makes me want to practice. That’s what makes me want to dig deeper. You get that kind of response here. I hold friendship high on the list of qualities that really make a band. Everybody’s got to get along with everybody on the bandstand if we’re going to call it a band. You’ve got to be open. That has a way of operating through the music. If you check out the history of all the great jazz bands, if you check out some of the more personal information, all the members of the band used to hang out. They fought, made up, hugged, cried — all that. That’s why that music feels brand new now and it’s always going to feel brand new.

And finally, why do you do this? Why do you play music? What is the purpose?

I think the purpose is to really to just energize people to keep going. To shed light in dark places, figuratively speaking [laughs]. Seriously though, that’s the purpose. Our purpose is to inform you that there’s the possibility that your mind could be closing! Music will show you, clearly, an open mind. If you accept that, it’ll show you that, it will give you that, it will open you up more. It’s up to you to acknowledge the difference. I’m not saying music is the only way to salvation; it’s just one of the many highways that gets you where you need to go. But it’s definitely a way. I think it’s our purpose to continue to acknowledge the link between life in general, and music, and how they just breed each other.

Especially us that understand that. Do it! You can make people feel a certain way at will! Use it. That’s who we are. We might not lead the way, but we’ll definitely make the way visible.