Monday 23 September 2013

Leicester Jazz House TV



Jeff Williams (drums), Mark Outram (guitar), Martin Speake (alto sax)



Leicester Jazz House TV interviewed Martin Speake at Embrace Arts in Leicester just before his gig with his Trio, comprising of Jeff Williams on drums and Mark Outram on guitar. Afterwards the Trio gave a compelling performance playing a selection of originals mixed in with some lovely standards. Martin Speake spoke about his influences and his forthcoming tour in the UK. Please take a look at the interview below and subscribe to the Leicester Jazz House TV YouTube channel.



Marcus Joseph





Leicester Jazz House Presents... Martin Speake Interview 003




Leicester Jazz House Presents... Martin Speake Trio



Sunday 15 September 2013

Leicester Jazz House TV


Paul Dunmall (tenor) / Tony Bianco (drums)


Last week Thursday we interviewed Paul Dunmall and Tony Bianco who were both fantastic and gave a superb duo performance at the Crumblin' Cookie in Leicester. 

They were our first "victims" and we are ever so grateful for them for allowing us to interview them. They both gave insightful views on Jazz music and how they started, sharing some genuine wisdom. 


Please watch both these videos and give us any feedback and positive criticism that you may have as we're looking to improve and get better with each video interview that we do (email us directly leicesterjazzhousetv@gmail.com). 

Next week we will be interviewing the Alto Saxophonist Martin Speake...



Marcus Joseph





Leicester Jazz House Presents... Paul Dunmall Interview 001






Leicester Jazz House Presents... Tony Bianco Interview 002







Leicester Jazz House Presents... Paul Dunmall/Tony Bianco tribute to John Coltrane








Saturday 14 September 2013

Jazz Stories – Episode 2.

Lush Life

Jim Bailey



Sometimes I get an overwhelming urge to hear a particular tune and until I get my musical fix no one gets much sense out of me. Today I woke up needing to hear Lush Life written by the great Billy Strayhorn. I’ve got five versions of the tune. They are by John Coltrane, Stan Getz, Sarah Vaughan, Ella Fitzgerald with Oscar Peterson plus a lovely version by the composer himself. The wonderful thing about Lush Life is its wry sadness. The tune is about being lonely. I’m not sure why I feel the need to hear this particular tune today but I play all five versions. After my fix I feel strangely satisfied. Now I can face the day.

Today, Mary and I simply have to choose curtain material for our bedroom. We’ve been at this task for two weeks now. It’s an agony and I’m no use whatsoever when it comes to choosing material. I’ll fix curtain rails and hang up curtains but don’t ask me to pick one piece of material over another.  Currently we are down to seven samples. It’s like a fabrics ID parade. In the end one piece of material will be chosen and then I can say, “It’s curtains for you my lad.” Mary is getting a bit desperate and I think she might even enlist Lily’s help with the choosing. Lily is six years old. She is Rosie’s child and our granddaughter. Her school is closed for the morning because of a plumbing crisis and we are babysitting.

After my Lush Life fix Lily arrives, quickly dropped off by Rosie. Mary and Lily set to work choosing the material. Lily is surprisingly good at the task and to my amazement they quickly agree on the best sample. Suddenly the deed is done. The material has been chosen. Sighs of relief all round.

Lily and I get on well. Today we have some homework to do – spelling. Lily is good at spelling. She particularly likes spelling elephant. We spell it four times - elephant elephant elephant elefant. The last time she spells it wrong just to see if I’m paying attention.

I like playing with Lily. She has three main interests - spelling, feminism and Usain Bolt. The feminism is fairly radical and is based on the general principle that girls are better than boys. Currently she has been toying with the notion of gender reassignment. Basically, she feels most boys could be improved by being more like girls. And, she seems to be extending this idea to grown males. For example, we watch athletics on iplayer and rerun Usain Bolt’s races over and over and over again. We sit on the sofa but as soon as the sprinters are out of their blocks Lily stands up. She punches the air when Usain breasts the line then sits down again. Lily really likes Usain Bolt but his existence poses her a problem. He’s not a girl and girls are better than boys.   
She asks, “Grandad, would Usain Bolt like to be a girl?”
“I don’t know. He’s a bit old to be a girl. I wonder if he’d run as fast if he were a girl?” I enquire tactfully.
“Yes, he would,” says Lily.
I decide not to make a point about he would be a she.

I’ve been trying to add jazz to the list of Lily’s interests and I think we’re making progress. This week we’ve been studying Charlie Parker’s famous alto break on his classic 1946 recording of Night in Tunisia with Miles on trumpet. When Charlie makes his four bar solo break after the tune, Lily stands up from the sofa like she does when watching Usain Bolt. I think it’s because that four bar break is just like a glorious ten second dash for the line. It’s one of the most thrilling moments in jazz. Sometimes I stand up with Lily. I think Lily is getting interested in spending a night in Tunisia. She asks me if we could arrange a Night in Tunisia sleepover and invite her friend Hannah. I suggest we invite Usain Bolt as well. Lily’s keen.

Lily and I finish the school work and it’s time for her to test out her feminist ideas on me. I think it’s fair to say that Lily has been politicised by her mother, grandmother and Ms Kaminska, her class teacher. I believe they take the view that where feminism is concerned, you can’t start them too early.

“Now, Grandad, are you a feminist?” Lily asks.
After a suitable pause I say, “Yes, I think I am.”
“No! You can’t be because you are not a girl.”
I ponder this for a few moments and ask, “Why can’t boys be feminists?”
She informs me. “It’s because boys don’t understand girls.”
I think good, we’re having a debate now and I respond with, “Ah, but girls don’t understand boys either.”
 Lily thinks about my cunning line of argument. She takes her time then announces,
“Yes that’s true. But it’s more important for boys to understand girls ... and they don’t!” Lily says this with great conviction.
I can’t help but think there’s some truth to her point but I can’t quite put my finger on why it should be so. Then the debate is drawn to a close by Grandma Mary calling us for morning drinks and cake!

When I take Lily to school after lunch, I see that her teacher, Ms Kaminska, has a tattoo on her left ankle. I’ve not noticed this before. Unfortunately, I can’t see it clearly because it’s tantalisingly at the wrong focal distance for me. I want to bend down to check it out but don’t think this would go down too well. Anyway, it wouldn’t be polite. So, the tattoo remains fuzzy looking. I think it might be some sort of furry animal, perhaps a rabbit or a squirrel.  On the way home I think about Ms Kaminska and her tattoo. I wonder why she chose the tattoo, whatever it is. Ms Kaminska is a fit young woman - I believe that’s the term used these days.

That night I have a dream.

Ms Kaminska has summoned me to school and instructs me to be a good boy and saw off her foot because the tattoo, which is a rat, is trying to crawl up her leg. She lifts her leg and fixes it firmly in a woodwork vice similar to the one in our shed and gives me the command. I look at her lovely leg in the vice and think this must be symbolic but the meaning escapes me.
“Saw off my foot Mr Sammler and I’ll test your spelling at the same time,” she says.
In the dream I think: I’m not Mr Sammler. He’s a character in a book I’m reading. He’s Jewish, which I’m not and only has one eye. And then I want to check my eyesight by putting a hand over each eye. At the same time I’m not at all keen to saw off Ms Kaminska’s foot but I can see the rat tattoo wriggling.  
“Come on Mr Sammler. Hold my leg, start sawing and spell these words.”
I put my hand round her lovely ankle and feel the rat wriggling. The saw is poised. The spelling test begins.
“Spell elephant.”
“E..L..E..F..A..N..T.”I know I’m spelling it wrong but I can’t stop myself.
“Wrong! Don’t be naughty and hurry up with the sawing. Now spell feminism,” says Ms Kaminska.
“F..E..M..I..N..I..S..M,” but I can’t bring myself to start the amputation.
“Good, now spell belong.”
“B..E..L..O..N..G.”

At this point I wake with a start. I’m in a sweat. Eventually, I get out of bed and go to the bathroom. There I’m relieved to discover I still have both eyes and I’ve not been circumcised. All is present and correct. I go back to bed and as I’m sliding off to sleep I think: I’m so glad I’m not Mr Sammler and I didn’t saw off Ms Kaminska’s foot. But the spelling test is puzzling me.
I hear Mary murmuring in her sleep, “curtains ....curtains....curtains.”
Then her voice changes to that critical cut you with a knife voice I know so well.
“Pull yourself together,” she says loudly. 
I’m awake now and tense. I listen. She’s still asleep and in my head I say, “I’m trying, Mary. I’m trying very, very hard.”
Mary has not had an easy time living with me over the past few years.

When I wake in the morning I’m tense and anxious again. From experience, I know my best option is to try and keep active. I fit the new curtain rail and tidy the garden shed. I notice the woodwork vice is empty. I’m waiting for the evening. It’s a jazz night. Music always helps and I wonder whether I’ll see Charlie. I hope so. Mary drives me to the Yard. Her parting shot is, “Now, one drink only, OK?”
I say nothing.

The Yard is empty and I go to the bar. Susie is the barmaid and I know her well. She was a client of mine for about six years. I think of her as one of my successes.
“Now Sir, what can I get for you,” she says.
“Susie, I do wish you wouldn’t call me Sir.” I say.
She gives me a mischievous grin.
“It’s an indication of my respect for you. And I can’t resist teasing you ... Sir,” says Susie.
“I’ll have a pint please, Susie. And, thank you.”

I sit at my favourite table, peer into my beer and think about the work I did with Susie. She’d been in an awful state at one time and with good reason. They fuck you up, your mum and dad ... especially the dad. But Suzie is strong and I believe she’s found a way through. How the wheel of life spins for now it’s me who needs to find strength. I recall some lines from Lush Life.

                                                When one relaxes on the axis
                                                Of the wheel of life
                                                To get the feel of life
                                                From jazz and cocktails  

Well, I don’t feel as though I can do much relaxing on this particular axis of life. And I’m limited to one cocktail a day! But at least there is always the jazz.

Since my first strange encounter with Charlie Parker here in the Yard I’ve seen him several times – but always here. He seems to arrive out of the blue. One second I’m looking into my beer, the next he’s sitting down in front of me. I’ve been thinking a good deal about Charlie. According to him, he’s a visiting angel. He speaks about the afterlife in a reasonable, matter-of-fact way and is pretty convincing. In fact, Charlie’s afterlife strikes me as being a far more meaningful and reasonable place than the world I inhabit. But, his account of himself and his world is crazy, of course! I think the Charlie Parker I meet in the Yard is probably some poor soul with a serious delusion. Through my work I’ve learnt a good deal about human beings and their capacity to live through their delusions. And their capacity to live through other people’s delusions, which I think is more worrying. Some delusions can be nasty but to my way of thinking Charlie’s ideas are fairly harmless. What’s so wrong with believing you are the angel of a great saxophone player? And given I no longer work, I’m happy to leave his delusion well alone.

Then another thought crosses my mind. Perhaps, just perhaps, Charlie is my invention ... my delusion? After all, I’ve not been well. This thought stirs my anxiety. A flurry of weird, unrelated questions flood in: How long will Trevor and I be friends? The rest of our lives ... more likely just one of our lives? I’d hate to lose him. And then bizarrely ... How long is this room? I catch myself. Why on earth am I thinking like this? What the heck is happening to me? Suddenly I feel in turmoil.

Then Charlie is here sitting down in front of me, smiling. I feel relieved.
“Hallo Charlie. I’m so pleased to see you.” I say.
I reach out to shake his hand. He feels real:  warm, human, comforting.
“It’s good to see you too my much esteemed friend,” say Charlie in his phoney English accent.
He looks me in the eye and says, “You look tense today.”
“I am Charlie, very tense.”
We are silent. Then be begins singing to me. His voice is deep, rich and beauteous. He is singing Lush Life and now I’m crying, but it’s such a relief. I don’t understand what’s happening but I feel the tension flows out of me as I hear him sing the last line:

                                                Of those whose lives are lonely too.

Everything has stopped. A huge stillness has settled upon us. And then I begin thinking again. I’m bemused and delighted by my own delusion singing to me, soothing me. I wonder what strange madness I am afflicted with? But Charlie sure has a lovely voice - maybe a voice as good as Billy Eckstine’s. I wipe my eyes.
“Thank you Charlie. That was lovely.” I say.
“It was my pleasure, my friend. Actually, I was talking with Billy Strayhorn the other day. He’s such a beautiful guy. We all love his music. You should hear the stuff he’s composing now - tunes to die for. One of the special things about a gay man like Strays is that he’s closer to the female way of experiencing things than most men ever get. And that is good, man,” says Charlie.
I’m reminded of Lily telling me that it is more important for boys to understand girls than girls to understand boys. I tell Charlie this.
“Ha! Young Lily is close to the truth. When men understand and know how to treat women, the world will be a better place,” says Charlie.
I nod.
I also tell him that Lily really likes Usain Bolt but wonders if Usain would like to be a girl. He laughs.
Then Charlie asks, “Hey man, I don’t know Usain’s work. What does he play?”
I explain that he’s not a musician but the greatest sprinter the world has ever seen. Clearly Charlie didn’t know. How could he not know about Usain Bolt? And then I can’t resist telling him how much Lily loves his four bar break on Night in Tunisia. He chuckles.

Charlie then says, “Trevor will be here soon but before he comes I must tell you something.”
“OK Charlie. Tell me anything.”
“There is a big reason why you feel so lonely and I’ve come here to help you.”
The big fish moves inside me and I feel the eddy of water as it slips by. I’m swaying, I think I’m going to faint. Charlie reaches out and holds my arm.
“Hold steady, my friend. You’re not alone; it’s just that you don’t belong yet.” Then he’s gone.

Trevor and Susie are leaning over me and I feel queasy.
“Are you alright, old chum? I think I’d better get you back home pronto. It’s Dr Sharma for you tomorrow,” says Trevor. I feel Susie put an arm on my back.
I want very much to go to the jazz but I don’t have the energy to resist. So I let Trevor take me home and I go straight to bed.

I sleep better than I have done for months and wake the next day feeling good. However, Mary and Trevor have been at work and I have an appointment with Dr Sharma at 5 pm. I potter happily for most of the day and duly go to the surgery for my appointment. I’ve had personal and professional dealings with many GPs over the years and Dr Sharma is one of the best. Prior to her joining the practice some five years ago there was dear old Dr Hyde. He was always losing my notes. I thought of him playing an ongoing game of Hyde and seek in his consulting room. Dr Sharma is super efficient and kind. She gives me time; the most valuable commodity a GP has. We talk about my fluctuating bouts of anxiety on the bad days, and how well things are progressing on the good days. I don’t tell her about Charlie and we don’t change the medication. I’m pleased about this and thank her.

On my way home I think about Charlie. I’ve told no one about him, not even Trevor. I’m beginning to think of him as my delusion and therefore I’d best keep him to myself. I recall him singing to me in the Yard and how soothed I felt. But then how unsettled I felt when he told me there was a big reason for me being lonely. I’d never thought of myself as being lonely but when he said it, I knew it was true. I am lonely, despite all the people I love and all the loving people around me. And what could he mean that I don’t belong yet. And then I remember Ms Kaminska wanted me to spell belong in the dream I had. All of this strange stuff is some weird concoction of my own mind it would seem.

I’m pondering this as I approach the house. And then I see a racing bike leaning against the tree in our front garden. It’s a beautiful cobalt blue and has a seriously bent front wheel. I let myself in and hear something going on in the kitchen. When I walk in, I see Ms Kaminska sitting down and Mary is helping lift her leg onto a chair. Lily is standing wide eyed in the corner of the room looking scared. Ms Kaminska is wearing a lycra cycling suit. It’s cobalt blue. She’s hurt her leg.

Mary says, “We need to run Ms Kaminska down to the hospital for an x-ray. She was knocked off her bike by a white van just outside. Can you get the car out?”
I move over to look at her leg. It’s the left one and her ankle’s broken – I’m sure of it.
“I think we better ring the ambulance, Mary. There will be less discomfort being moved by stretcher and perhaps they’ll get Ms Kaminska straight in to see the doctor,” I say.
Mary goes to ring.
Ms Kaminska looks in pain.
“Ohhh zadek zadek zadek!” she says.
I think she’s swearing in Polish and I hear Lily quietly repeating this new word to herself.
“I’ve got a gig this weekend. I won’t be able to play the high-hat with a foot like this. Ohhh gowno!” She exclaims. Another Polish swear word goes into Lily’s faultless memory bank.
So, Ms Kaminska’s a drummer. Very interesting.
“I know a drummer who could dep. for you,” I say. “He’s good. Will play anything you like.” 
“Ohhh ... thanks.”
And then I see the tattoo. It’s perfectly clear. I’m leaning over inspecting her rapidly swelling ankle and it’s at just the right focal distance. It’s not a furry animal. It’s a beautiful piece of calligraphy. I’m so amazed I mouth what’s written. Ms Kaminska notices and says.
“It’s my favourite tune. I love that tune so much I had to get the tattoo. It’s about being lonely you know.” She grimaces.

Lush Life” I say.

Thursday 12 September 2013

One great pianist we had failed to book for the Leicester Jazz House solo season at Embrace Arts was Howard Riley. In fact scanning the pages of the jazz press we could find no sign of any recent gigs by Howard at all. Was he still playing? There was one easy way to find out, and a quick search in the excellent Jazz Services directory gave us his phone number. We spoke, agreed a date and a fee, and started (with some excitement- he's been a musical hero of mine for a long time) to publicise the season.

Then the problems started; Howard was unwell and perhaps could not make the gig. Or maybe he would do one set and fill the rest of the time with a Q&A session. As the date approached even my normally optimistic spirit became a little anxious. We assured him that he would be among friends, with a sympathetic and attentive audience at what is a small arts centre with an excellent Bosendorffer. When I picked him up from the station the day before the gig it was an enormous relief when he told me: The gig's on- two sets!

We had a meal in a sombre mood- Gordon Beck's death had recently been announced, and Howard talked about the circumstances of his old sparring partner Jaki Byard's tragic end. We were not to know, of course, that Michael Garrick was to die suddenly and unexpectedly the day of the gig. Michael had charmed us with a duo gig a short while before, so the news was a great shock

The concert was a triumph. Howard played mostly standards and Monk tunes; the lightning virtuosity and extravagant technique of his 70's solo playing replaced by what Duncan Heining in his review of Howard's Monk/Ellington cd called 'careful, thoughtful and respectful' interpretations; no lack of technical expertise, but coming at the listener obliquely rather than full on. Several numbers began with improvisation, the theme emerging only at the end. Lots of knowing smiles from audience members at the point of recognition.

It was not the sell-out it deserved to be but the respectably-sized and enthusiastic audience included one guy who'd driven 80+ miles to attend. And I'm happy to say this is one gig that's not 'Gone...in the air.'  Howard asked us to arrange to have the concert recorded, just for his own use in reviewing his playing, so we asked our friend Chris Trent to set up his equipment at the side of what would be the stage if we had one. Both sets were recorded and Howard was kind enough to let me have a copy.

A week later he phoned to tell  he liked the recording so much he was going to get it released commercially by NoBusiness records who are based in Vilnius, and had released a series of Riley cds, including a 6cd box.

So at last we come to the reason for this post; today a small packet arrived with copies of the cd- Live with Repertoire. I'm delighted that the mixing was done by Alex Hawkins, who is about to do a duo concert for us at Embrace Arts with the great Louis Moholo-Moholo.

If you want a copy of  the cd you can contact me here

Wednesday 11 September 2013

Leicester Jazz House TV


Leicester Jazz House are currently in the motions of setting up a series via YouTube under the name "Leicester Jazz House TV" (LJH-TV) and delving more into the new unpredictable world of Social Media. This will be a platform to film and interview each Jazz Artist that we have coming up to perform.

We're hoping this will give a clearer understanding of what Leicester Jazz House is about; our events, concerts, workshops and the different types of professional bands that we have coming up to perform at whichever venue, thus learning more about the beauty and art of Jazz first hand from the band leaders/members themselves. Creating a personal experience and a dialogue, shedding light into the illusionary art of Jazz/Improvisation bringing in the listener/audience members into the know. Any questions that you may have for any particular musician that you would like answering then please submit questions via the blog or email.

The idea is borrowed from several projects that I have seen on YouTube and I believe this would be a unique aspect to add, not only to Leicester Jazz House but our contribution to the UK Jazz scene and beyond.

I believe in this way we could promote the awareness of Jazz/Improvisation more and could possibly lead into other avenues such as interviewing local Jazz Musicians, short online Jazz education workshops, showcasing kids performing Jazz and would definitely be a good lead up to the Leicester City of Culture 2017 etc etc etc...


Marcus Joseph

Wednesday 4 September 2013

INTERVIEW WITH MILES

As well as being an excellent drummer (and long-standing treasurer of Leicester Jazz House) John Runcie has another claim to jazz renown. He first traveled to New York in 1962 and spent two years there as a post graduate student at Harvard & Columbia Universities. During this period he got to hear Coltrane, Dolphy, Art Blakey, Sonny Stitt, Ben Webster, Phil Woods and other giants. Returning to NYC in the mid-70s on sabbatical from his day-job as a lecturer in American Studies at Leicester University John undertook a series of interviews with leading jazz musicians, many of which were published by Melody Maker, Black Music & Jazz Review  and Jazz Journal.
We’ll be posting a series of these; the first is with the notoriously reluctant & difficult interviewee Miles Davis; if you don’t believe me take a look at p42 of Val Wilmer’s autobiography ‘Mama Said There’d Be Days Like This’.
This is the way it happened: ‘I’d interviewed Chick Corea in July 1974 and mentioned I’d like to interview Miles. To my surprise Chick gave me Miles’ address on the Upper West Side and said: use my name. On August 9th I knocked on his door, told him: Chick sent me and was allowed in to his apartment. The ground floor was one big room, hung with African cloth and with African statuettes all around. Miles wore African robes, his hair in corn rows. Spacey organ music  played throughout the hour we spent together. What a day! - not only the last of that trip to the USA but also the day Nixon finally resigned over Watergate.’


Well I mean it’s useless to talk about the 40s- what the fuck was in the 40s.


JR: I know you said just now that you didn’t particularly want to talk about the 1940s just because you can’t remember that much about that period.
MD: Well I mean it’s useless to talk about the 40s- what the fuck was in the 40s.
JR: There might be people who’d be interested to know certain things about that period of your life. For instance when you came to New York how familiar were you with the music of people like Charlie Parker?
MD: Shit. I was writing arrangements when I was fourteen; I knew the records, and besides everybody started playing like that at once.
JR: You came to New York to study at Julliard. Did you have any ideas of becoming an orthodox trumpet player or did you know from the start that you wanted to play jazz?
MD: Orthodox? I was always playing Flight of the Bumblebee.
JR: What was the point of coming to Julliard? Was it to get technical training or just to satisfy your parents?
MD: I don’t satisfy anyone but myself. I went to Julliard to see what was happening, but it wasn’t much and I knew most of it already.
JR: How long did you stay there?
MD: Till I got tired.
JR: So you weren’t there more than a few months?
MD: I didn’t say that. I was there about a couple of years.
JR: How did your relationship with Charlie Parker begin?
MD: Everybody knows that. Why are you asking me shit like that? I don’t want to talk about the 40s; that’s all dead and gone. Talk about today.
JR: You recently had the best part of an edition of Down Beat devoted to you. Is that sort of thing important to you? Were you pleased by it?
MD: I wasn’t pleased by it because they didn’t include what Dizzy had to say about me. Besides, the white man doesn’t know nothing about black music.
JR: Do critics matter at all to you?MD: No! I don’t care what they say. Because they’re all white, they can't understand black music.
JR: Do you think white musicians can play black music?
MD: No!

JR: And yet you’ve used white musicians in the past quite frequently.
MD: I don’t use them to play black music; I use them to do what they can do.
JR: How can you make this kind of distinction? In recent years you’ve used white musicians like John McLaughlin, Dave Holland and Chick Corea, and yet presumably you’d describe the music they produced as black music?
MD: Of course. I’m black. Can’t you see what colour I am? See the way I dress, see the way you dress? See the way I walk? See the way I talk? You see my maid? She’s Brazilian. We’re different man!
JR: Some years ago there was some controversy over your using the white saxophonist Lee Konitz. You said that it didn’t matter what colour a musician was so long as he could play. Do you still feel this way?
MD: Yes. I use them for different things, you understand?
JR: So they can contribute to the music though they can’t necessarily play black music as such?
MD: They contribute to what I want to hear.
JR: Are you satisfied with your latest record, ‘Big Fun’?
MD: No. It’s years old. We made that four years ago.
JR: To what extent is that record the creation of your producer Teo Macero? Do you approve of the control he has in editing and putting the whole thing together?
MD: It's not his creation. It was already together. He didn't do shit. It was together, what the fuck is he going to do about it?It's already there man. When we make the recording, it's there. I tell the guy what to do in the control room. raise the bass, do this, do that. When we get through making the date, it's finished. He has nothing to do with it. The only reason  I use a producer is because he's white. He can talk to white people and white people don't listen to black people. That's the only fucking reason.
JR: When I talked to Chick Corea recently he told me that one of his main concerns was to communicate with people, to reach a bigger audience, to get his music to more people. Does this sort of thing matter to you at all?
MD. It doesn't matter. I don't give a fuck who listens to me. Why should I care who listens to me? Why? Give me one reason. For glory, fame, money? I don't need any money.
JR: Musicians have their different reasons. Chick Corea's seem to be idealistic, even spiritual.
MD: I don't believe in being spiritual. I don't believe in the word.
JR: How do you feel about the view of one critic that your 'Live Evil' album revealed a new spiritual quality in your music?
MD: I didn't say that. I don't use the word spiritual.
JR: He said that. You would disagree?
MD: I don't like the word spiritual because I don't believe in God.
JR: How about the devil? And the influence of voodoo on your music?
MD: I don't believe in the devil either.
JR: So there was nothing involved in that music other than the music itself?
MD: What else would there be in there? Why do you ask me something like that? Why? To get a reaction?
JR: has there ever been any occasion on which your music contained any kind of message other than the purely musical one?
MD: There's no message. It's just music in different forms. I mean did people come up and ask Stravinsky that? Did they fuck with Rachmaninov like that, or Beethoven?
JR: There's been a long tradition of black music as protest music, as social comment.
MD: Protesting what?
JR: Against the situation of black people.
MD: White people are taking care of that for themselves, aren't they?
JR: So there's never been any intention on your part to put over any political or social message?
MD: Don't be ridiculous! How is music going to be political?
JR: A musician like Archie Shepp has tried to use music in this way.
MD: Archie Shepp isn't a musician. Chick Corea's the musician, not Archie Shepp.
JR: You've frequently been extremely critical of many other jazz musicians, especially those involved in the so-called avant-garde movement? What musicians do you enjoy listening to?
MD: I like most of the ones who've worked with me. I like Chick and Herbie, but he's too fucking intellectual you know.  Those white wives.
JR: Do you listen more for your own pleasure to rock music and soul music rather than to jazz?
MD: I don't know what soul music is. White people invent all these terms; all that shit.
JR: What sort of things do you listen to nowadays?
MD: I listen to Stockhausen, James Brown and Marvin Gaye, who I think is a genius. I like the Staples Singers and Aretha. Did you hear Aretha last night?
JR: No.
MD: Why not?
JR: I didn't know she was appearing.
MD: See, that's the difference. You're white, I'm black.
JR: I was listening to Jimmy Heath's band. I try to hear as much as I can.
MD: You're forgiven.
JR: I notice you didn't include any jazz musicians in your list.
MD: I don't know what jazz is. That's a white man's word to give to niggers, and niggers are Uncle Toms.
JR: Just describe it as black music without any categories?
MD: Right.
JR: Over the years you've been criticised for your attitude to audiences.
MD: What am I supposed to do to a fucking audience? Suck their dicks? Dance? They can't play trumpet. I'm playing the trumpet. I'm giving them the music I've written and studied for all those years.
JR: Would it be true to say you need them?
MD: They need me!
JR: But isn't it a sort of mutual relationship?
MD: They need me! I don't need them. Because they beat you up and start wars. A friend of mine just told me that one of his best friends went up to the second tier to hear Aretha Franklin and some white boys shot him in the back of the head. But what the fuck is that? And you ask me if I need audiences.
JR: Do you have any feelings about playing for white audiences?
MD: They can take it or leave it.
JR: You don't seem to be appearing very frequently nowadays in clubs.
MD: because I quit. I'm out of it.
JR: Why is that? Are you disillusioned with the business?
MD: It's terrible. I do what I want to do.
JR: Do you intend to do occasional concerts?
MD: Maybe nothing. Why not?
JR: Are you happy with the prospect of life without music?
MD: It's not going to be without music. I just don't want to be in it. Also my legs are bad; they're just deteriorating. I don't want to be bothered with all that bullshit any more.
JR: Does the music bore you now?
MD: Nothing bores me. It's just the attitude of the general white person. They got the foothold.
JR: You don't think the black situation is improving at all?
MD: No!
JR: If it did would this change your attitude at all to playing in public?
MD: I'm too far gone and i can't stand white people unless they're real people. You can tell when somebody's real.
JR: Have you met many white people that you'd put into that category?
MD: No. About two or three.
JR: Presumably Chick Corea is one of them?
MD: I don't know what Chick is, and that's what I mean. When a guy's real you don't know what he is. You don't notice his colour.
JR: Why do you feel so strongly about racial matters? Is it simply the result of being a black man in America for forty years.
MD: 48 years. It's because you get fucked around man. Why should a white man shoot you in the head for trying to get a better look at Aretha Franklin? You can see when you get in the ring though can't you? You see how many white champions you got?
JR: The music we can hear in the background is something you've just composed for Duke Ellington, right?
MD:Right. I loved and respected Duke. He was one of my idols. He sent me a letter before he died,  to say goodbye.
JR: Do you plan to have this music put out on a record?
MD: I don't care if it's put out or not. I can still listen to it myself. It doesn't mater me whether something's on record. So what?
JR: Do you have any kind of permanent band together at the moment?
MD: Sure I've got a band together.
JR: And are you playing frequently with them?
MD: I'll play when I get ready to play.
JR: Do you intend to play again?
MD: When I get ready.
JR: This is really just a temporary lay off?
MD: It's just that I  can't stand the business. If it seems all right I'll do it. I'm well set up. I need never work again in my life.
JR: have you listened to any of the jazz, for want of a better word, being played by European musicians?
MD: Whatever they do, we've done. We've done all that shit years ago. But it's always the musicians who contribute, whether they're white, black, Chinese or Japanese. It's just that I'm black and I  lean towards Marvin Gaye and that kind of thing.
JR: Is there any sense in which the music has become international?
MD: Black music doesn't sound like Chinese music does it? I wish I could play Chinese music.
JR: Is there no way in which music could become what Albert Ayler called the healing force of the universe? Can't it bring people together?
MD: Albert who?That's bullshit; that's white talk.