mmusicmag.com mmusicmag · victor wooten and percussionist roy “futureman” wooten—for the fi...

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JUNE 2011 ISSUE JUNE 2011 ISSUE MMUSICMAG.COM MMUSICMAG.COM BÉLA FLECK MADE THE BANJO DANGEROUS. BEFORE HE picked it up, the instrument was mostly consigned to the province of old-fashioned country and bluegrass tunes. But all that changed in 1979 when the native New Yorker recorded his first solo album, Crossing the Tracks. “I was really intent on being good on the banjo,” Fleck says. “So I learned Bach Partitas and jazz solos because that seemed like the highest quality music I could find that would directly impact my banjo playing.” Improbably, Fleck brought those elements together with traditional and world music to create an amped-up hybrid dubbed “progressive bluegrass”—a melting-pot style all his own. He has been breaking boundaries ever since. Fleck’s banjo odyssey found him pushing five-string limits with the New Grass Revival during most of the 1980s and ultimately breaking down the walls completely with his group Béla Fleck and the Flecktones, formed in 1988. “When I met the Flecktones and showed them the more complicated stuff I had, these guys sucked that up and asked for more,” Fleck recalls. He has also enjoyed solo excursions into African, Indian and classical music, as well as collaborations with Chick Corea and many others. On his new album, Rocket Science, Fleck reconvenes the original Flecktones—keyboardist Howard Levy, bass player Victor Wooten and percussionist Roy “Futureman” Wooten—for the first time in 18 years. With Fleck at the production helm as usual, the group burned through 12 new songs over a pair of two-week sessions. “There’s something about us together that’s very special,” observes Fleck, 52. “It’s not just run-of-the-mill. I could get Chick Corea, Dennis Chambers, Toots Thielemans and Stanley Clarke and it wouldn’t sound like the Flecktones.” We spoke with the banjo wizard from Nashville, where he has lived since the early ’80s. BÉLA FLECK The banjo virtuoso breaks boundaries again with his original Flecktones By Steven Rosen ‘There’s something about us together that’s very special. It’s not run-of-the-mill.’ Jeremy Cowart 48 48 48 MUSICIAN What drew you to the banjo? When I first heard the banjo it was profound. I heard Earl Scruggs playing the Beverly Hillbillies theme [“The Ballad of Jed Clampett”], but I wasn’t that interested in country or folk. At that time it was just the sound of the banjo that jumped out at me. I’ve talked to a lot of people who Earl Scruggs had that impact on—the first time they heard him play just shook them up. What other music did you like? I was a kid in the ’60s, so the Beatles were huge. In the early ’70s, when I started playing banjo, Led Zeppelin was huge. Yes was also big. You couldn’t help but be aware of different kinds of music growing up in New York City—including folk, which I liked but didn’t have a huge attraction to. I enjoyed music where people played fancier. I liked hearing lead guitarists and jazz musicians, and I hadn’t really heard that in folk. In bluegrass I did. Were you good right away? People said it came easily, though I felt I was struggling. Not to brag, but by the time I was graduating high school, I was spending a lot of time around Tony Trischka, who was the leading modernist banjo player. We’d be jamming at parties, and people would say they couldn’t tell who was who when they closed their eyes. Here I was playing with the top guy and people couldn’t tell if it was him or me—so I guess that was fast. When your career started, was something missing from traditional bluegrass banjo? It wasn’t so much that something was missing, but there was an opportunity there to open things up. I had a simple curiosity about different kinds of music—and maybe the egotism to think, “I shouldn’t have to learn the saxophone to learn this Charlie Parker solo. I should be able to do it on the banjo.” I had moved to the South and was playing in bluegrass bands but was still curious about more modern music. I’d finish a bluegrass tour, go home and try to hang out with jazz musicians or try to transcribe things off Charlie Parker or Chick Corea records. I’d also take things from great guitar players like Pat Martino or Pat Metheny. Nobody had really explored the banjo neck the way I was trying to do. There were a couple of guys—Don Reno and Eddie Adcock—who had done stuff with scales, but it wasn’t a complete concept. I learned all the modes in all the keys from the bottom of the banjo neck to the top, and every single jazz chord inversion. How did the Flecktones form? I was looking to push the edge and do something different, to step completely out of the bluegrass world. Victor Wooten, Futureman and Howard Levy were the first guys I’d met that could take my music and raise it to the level it needed to be on in order to be viable. The music needed to be edgy and have new ideas in it, because they wouldn’t want to play with me if I wasn’t delivering stuff that was intriguing to them. What were the early sessions like? We always played live, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t go back and fix something if you didn’t get it. I always produced the records. The only outside producer we ever approached was Daniel Lanois, and he passed. Do you have your own studio? Yes, in my house. That started around the time of Live Art [1996]. We were doing really well on Warner Bros. around that time, and they actually gave me my first Pro Tools rig. We were about to compile the live album from a couple hundred hours of recordings of shows that we had taped over the years. So I got one of the early Pro Tools systems and started editing the live album. Did you adopt digital quickly? I preferred analog—it sounded great and I loved it. But digital has gotten so good that it doesn’t stop a record from being great. It’s a nice touch when you can do it analog, but I haven’t gotten to do that in a long time. I’ve mixed to analog half-inch or one-inch machines to give it a little more of that character. How did the Flecktones reunite? The real change was going back to playing with Howard Levy. The band has been together the whole time, but with different personnel—really just one person, Jeff Coffin, who had been our horn player for the last 14 years. Dave Matthews Band asked Jeff to fill in after LeRoi Moore, their saxophone player, died [in 2008]. They eventually offered him that job. ‘The concerts are about uplifting people. It’s great to play that role.’ 49 TOOLS OF THE TRADE Fleck’s primary instrument since 1981 has been a 1938 Gibson TB-75 Flathead, which cost $75 when it was manufactured but is now worth $100,000. Its depth and warmth of sound are generated from the expanded tone ring, which allows for more skin surface to resonate. The Gibson has been fitted with a taller and thicker bridge to enhance the deeper tones. Fleck says he creates a darker sound by “keeping things fairly loose and open” regarding the tightness of the head and the height of the tailpiece off the rim. “I like the high register to be very sweet and loud and not too bright,” he says. “I play the whole neck and don’t just stay in open position like a lot of bluegrass music does. I have a whole different sound I’m going for.” Other banjos heard on Rocket Science include a second pre-War Flathead, a Gibson Grenada, a prototype Gold Tone 10-string and an electric Deering Crossfire. A Neumann U 89 and KM 84—big- capsule and small-capsule microphones, respectively—were used to record the instrument. Warm and bright elements were mixed together and panned according to Fleck’s production specs. “My sound comes right off the banjo head,” he explains. “I like to record close, because there’s a proximity warmth if you stay fairly close to the banjo.” Fleck’s fingers are fitted with difficult-to-find pre-War National fingerpicks—“They’re the sound that Earl Scruggs had”—and he plays GHS strings, which he’s been using since the 1970s. Jeremy Cowart

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Page 1: MMUSICMAG.COM MMUSICMAG · Victor Wooten and percussionist Roy “Futureman” Wooten—for the fi rst time in 18 years. With Fleck at the production helm as usual, the group burned

JUNE 2011 ISSUE JUNE 2011 ISSUEMMUSICMAG.COM MMUSICMAG.COM

BÉLA FLECK MADE THE BANJO DANGEROUS. BEFORE HEpicked it up, the instrument was mostly consigned to the province of old-fashioned country and bluegrass tunes. But all that changed in 1979 when the native New Yorker recorded his fi rst solo album, Crossing the Tracks. “I was really intent on being good on the banjo,” Fleck says. “So I learned Bach Partitas and jazz solos because that seemed like the highest quality music I could fi nd that would directly impact my banjo playing.” Improbably, Fleck brought those elements together with traditional and world music to create an amped-up hybrid dubbed “progressive bluegrass”—a melting-pot style all his own. He has been breaking boundaries ever since.

Fleck’s banjo odyssey found him pushing fi ve-string limits with the New Grass Revival during most of the 1980s and ultimately breaking down the walls completely with his group Béla Fleck and the Flecktones, formed in 1988. “When I met the Flecktones

and showed them the more complicated stuff I had, these guys sucked that up and asked for more,” Fleck recalls. He has also enjoyed solo excursions into African, Indian and classical music, as well as collaborations with Chick Corea and many others.

On his new album, Rocket Science, Fleck reconvenes the original Flecktones—keyboardist Howard Levy, bass player Victor Wooten and percussionist Roy “Futureman” Wooten—for the fi rst time in 18 years. With Fleck at the production helm as usual, the group burned through 12 new songs over a pair of two-week sessions. “There’s something about us together that’s very special,” observes Fleck, 52. “It’s not just run-of-the-mill. I could get Chick Corea, Dennis Chambers, Toots Thielemans and Stanley Clarke and it wouldn’t sound like the Flecktones.” We spoke with the banjo wizard from Nashville, where he has lived since the early ’80s.

BÉLA FLECKThe banjo virtuoso breaks boundaries again with his original Flecktones

By Steven Rosen

‘There’s something about us together that’s very special. It’s not run-of-the-mill.’

Jere

my

Cow

art

484848

MUSICIAN

M mag 12.indd 48 7/7/11 9:38:34 PM

What drew you to the banjo?When I fi rst heard the banjo it was profound. I heard Earl Scruggs playing the Beverly

Hillbillies theme [“The Ballad of Jed Clampett”], but I wasn’t that interested in country or folk. At that time it was just the sound of the banjo that jumped out at me. I’ve talked to a lot of people who Earl Scruggs had that impact on—the fi rst time they heard him play just shook them up.

What other music did you like?I was a kid in the ’60s, so the Beatles were huge. In the early ’70s, when I started playing banjo, Led Zeppelin was huge. Yes was also big. You couldn’t help but be aware of different kinds of music growing up in New York City—including folk, which I liked but didn’t have a huge attraction to. I enjoyed music where people played fancier. I liked hearing lead guitarists and jazz musicians, and I hadn’t really heard that in folk. In bluegrass I did.

Were you good right away?People said it came easily, though I felt I was struggling. Not to brag, but by the time I was graduating high school, I was spending a lot of time around Tony Trischka, who was the leading modernist banjo player. We’d be jamming at parties, and people would say they couldn’t tell who was who when they closed their eyes. Here I was playing with the top guy and people couldn’t tell if it was him or me—so I guess that was fast.

When your career started, was something missing from traditional bluegrass banjo?It wasn’t so much that something was missing, but there was an opportunity there to open things up. I had a simple curiosity about different kinds of music—and maybe the egotism to think, “I shouldn’t have to learn the saxophone to learn this Charlie Parker solo. I should be able to do it on the banjo.” I had moved to the South and was playing in bluegrass bands but was still curious about more modern music. I’d fi nish a bluegrass tour, go home and try to hang out with jazz musicians or try

to transcribe things off Charlie Parker or Chick Corea records. I’d also take things from great guitar players like Pat Martino or Pat Metheny. Nobody had really explored the banjo neck the way I was trying to do. There were a couple of guys—Don Reno and Eddie Adcock—who had done stuff with scales, but it wasn’t a complete concept. I learned all the modes in all the keys from the bottom of the banjo neck to the top, and every single jazz chord inversion.

How did the Flecktones form?I was looking to push the edge and do something different, to step completely out of the bluegrass world. Victor Wooten, Futureman and Howard Levy were the fi rst guys I’d met that could take my music and raise it to the level it needed to be on in order to be viable. The music needed to be edgy and have new ideas in it, because they wouldn’t want to play with me if I wasn’t delivering stuff that was intriguing to them.

What were the early sessions like?We always played live, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t go back and fi x something if you didn’t get it. I always produced the records. The only outside producer we ever approached was Daniel Lanois, and he passed.

Do you have your own studio?Yes, in my house. That started around the time of Live Art [1996]. We were doing really well on Warner Bros. around that time, and they actually gave me my fi rst Pro Tools rig. We were about to compile the live album from a couple hundred hours of recordings of shows that we had taped over the years. So I got one of the early Pro Tools systems and started editing the live album.

Did you adopt digital quickly?I preferred analog—it sounded great and I loved it. But digital has gotten so good that it doesn’t stop a record from being great. It’s a nice touch when you can do it analog, but I haven’t gotten to do that in a long time. I’ve mixed to analog half-inch or one-inch machines to give it a little more of that character.

How did the Flecktones reunite?The real change was going back to playing with Howard Levy. The band has been together the whole time, but with different personnel—really just one person, Jeff Coffi n, who had been our horn player for the last 14 years. Dave Matthews Band asked Jeff to fi ll in after LeRoi Moore, their saxophone player, died [in 2008]. They eventually offered him that job.

‘The concerts are

about uplifting

people. It’s great

to play that role.’

49

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

Fleck’s primary instrument since 1981

has been a 1938 Gibson TB-75 Flathead,

which cost $75 when it was manufactured

but is now worth $100,000. Its depth and

warmth of sound are generated from the

expanded tone ring, which allows for more

skin surface to resonate. The Gibson has

been fi tted with a taller and thicker bridge

to enhance the deeper tones. Fleck says he

creates a darker sound by “keeping things

fairly loose and open” regarding the tightness

of the head and the height of the tailpiece

off the rim. “I like the high register to be very

sweet and loud and not too bright,” he says.

“I play the whole neck and don’t just stay in

open position like a lot of bluegrass music

does. I have a whole different sound I’m going

for.” Other banjos heard on Rocket Science include a second pre-War Flathead, a Gibson

Grenada, a prototype Gold Tone 10-string

and an electric Deering Crossfi re.

A Neumann U 89 and KM 84—big-

capsule and small-capsule microphones,

respectively—were used to record the

instrument. Warm and bright elements were

mixed together and panned according to

Fleck’s production specs. “My sound comes

right off the banjo head,” he explains. “I like

to record close, because there’s a proximity

warmth if you stay fairly close to the banjo.”

Fleck’s fi ngers are fi tted with diffi cult-to-fi nd

pre-War National fi ngerpicks—“They’re the

sound that Earl Scruggs had”—and he plays

GHS strings, which he’s been using since

the 1970s.

Jere

my

Cow

art

M mag 12.indd 49 7/7/11 9:38:20 PM

Page 2: MMUSICMAG.COM MMUSICMAG · Victor Wooten and percussionist Roy “Futureman” Wooten—for the fi rst time in 18 years. With Fleck at the production helm as usual, the group burned

JUNE 2011 ISSUE JUNE 2011 ISSUEMMUSICMAG.COM MMUSICMAG.COM

How did you approach Howard? About a year after Jeff left, Victor, Futureman and I touched base. I asked them, “Well, what do you guys want to do?” They said, “What about seeing if Howard is interested in doing some shows?” We did a couple weeks in Europe and fi ve shows in the States, just playing old music and reestablishing that we could have a great time together. Then we made plans to record Rocket Science.

How was that process? We worked pretty fast. I went off to Chicago to write with Howard, and got together with Victor and Futureman to write and see what they had. Then we got together and started recording. In the past we used to perform the

stuff live a good bit, knock the arrangement together on tour, then go and record it. Now, since we weren’t on tour, we had to do much more planning.

What do you hope people take away from your shows?The concerts are really about uplifting people. At the end of the shows, people just feel awesome. It’s great to play that role, to make a room full of people happy. I think there’s something inspiring about our band—they walk away from it going, “Wow, the impossible is possible.” I hear from people that they walk away inspired to go after their dreams. This group is certainly an example of a crazy dream that somehow has worked out.

CHICK’S CHALLENGE

Courtesy of R

ounder Records

‘I was looking to push the edge

and step completely out of the

bluegrass world.’

At the Rounder Records 40th Anniversary Concert, Nashville, October 2009

For Béla Fleck, some of the most

momentous—and nerve-wracking—sessions

of his life were for 2007’s The Enchantment, an album of duets with keyboard great

Chick Corea. “That was one of the most

mind-boggling things that had happened to

me,” he says. They set aside fi ve days for

the recording—and at Corea’s insistence

did not rehearse beforehand. “We met the

night before, and he said, ‘I think we can

record and mix in fi ve days,’” Fleck recalls.

“I was having a heart attack! He was like,

‘Hey, the more takes we have, the more we

have to listen to what they all sound like.

Why don’t we just do one take?’ We had to

meet in the middle and do fi ve or six takes

sometimes before I was playing well enough.

I realized, ‘Oh, the reason he doesn’t want

to do a lot of takes is because he’s gonna

sound good on all of ’em.’ I’m thrilled with

The Enchantment—it was very intense

because we recorded it fast. And then

getting to go out on tour with him was an

exercise in humility.”

505050

MUSICIAN

M mag 12.indd 50 7/7/11 9:37:56 PM