Coming to Japan

It's been a long time since I posted a blog, but now I am writing some entries for the New York Standards Quartet website. (www.nysq.org)

Coming to Japan

Well, here we are back in Japan. It feels like the band is really developing over the last year, finding a vocabulary and steadily growing. Of course, the constant stream of Kansai food has something to do with some of the growth, but we are hoping to cool out once we get back to Tokyo.

The trip over here from New York was a little harrowing. Using a companion pass ticket generously donated by a good friend who works for the airline, I flew over standby only to be stranded in Chicago. A day later, fresh from 13 hours of sleep at my Candlewood Inn suite and a sumptuous dinner at Panda Express, I got in line for another day of waiting standby. I was 23rd on the list and the flight was already pretty full when they started calling for standby passengers. There was one middle seat left and 9 people still in front of me. The first man called was about 65 years old, traveling with his wife. He mulled it over--should he ditch her and fly alone to Tokyo or wait another day in Chicago? The word was out, the next flight to Japan was not accepting any standbys because of weight restrictions, so not taking the ticket meant that you were stuck. It's difficult to evaluate the importance of 35 years of married life in this situation, but in the end, the guy did the right thing and passed on the ticket. Two more couples, same story. Finally 3 people were traveling together and the third wheel looked like she wanted the ticket. She walked off with it, but returned it a few minutes later, saying she'd decided to stay with her friends. That left me and I so I happily skipped down the ramp and strapped myself into the middle seat for 13 hours of bliss.

But once we got here, and started playing, touring and most importantly, eating, the old magic took over. It's such a great band to play with, exploring standards and what we can do to mess them up. And going around the countryside of Japan is very satisfying. We just played at Jazz Spot Bob (so-named for bassist Bob Cranshaw) and seeing my name on the wall where I signed it in 1994 brought back to me how long I've been doing this. I tell my students (and just about anyone else who will listen to me, although students are really the best for that because they are a captive audience) that playing music and traveling to do so has changed my life. I had never expected to be going all over the world--I started studying and learning Japanese and met my kooky (Japanese) wife because of it. Anyway, Jazz Spot Bob was one of the places I played on my first tour. It holds about 23 people, but you look at the signatures on the wall (Ray Brown, Mulgrew Miller, Elvin Jones, Herb Ellis, Freddie Waits) and you realize that you are in a place that has it's own amazing jazz history. I was touring then as I am now with Japanese number 1 bassist Yosuke Inoue and also with the great sax player (tenor at that time) Sam Newsome, the great drummer Nasheet Waits (who signed the wall next to his father's signature) in a band led by a Japanese trumpeter Shimamoto Takashi. Anyway, my point in all this is that time keeps on passing, but the playing, the travel and the relationships are a kind of constant. And in many ways, the experience keeps getting richer.

The second time I played at Jazz Spot Bob, I was feeling a little woozy at the end of the first set. It was back in the days when I would have the occasional nip of spirits and the previous evening I had drunk myself into oblivion. I had to get out of the overheated club and I went outside and promptly passed out against a wall. Fortunately, Ube is a large medical center and about half of the audience was doctors. Before I knew it, I was lying in the next door restaurant, an IV drip attached to my arm. The doctor that helped me out that time was at our NYSQ gig last night. He said I sounded a little sturdier last night. I actually got through both sets without losing consciousness, so it was a kind of personal victory for me.

Let me say one final thing before I close this installment of the blog. In all sincerity, this is a great band to play with. Tim Armacost is one of the greatest sax players of his generation and I believe is on the cusp of much wider recognition for his outstanding musicality. Yosuke is one of my favorite bassists to play with and one of the great blessings of being in this band is that it has given me the opportunity to reconnect with a kindred spirit that I had lost touch with. And what can you say about Gene Jackson? He's got a huge beat and he brings so much energy, groove and warmth to the bandstand. It's a wonderful opportunity to experiment and create. In addition to their playing personalities, they are a joy to hang out with.

We invite your comments and questions, if you have had the opportunity to see our performances in Japan or the Midwest United States, please drop us a line and say hello.