Master’s Thesis

In spite of what some may think, a degree in music is much more than learning how to play your instrument.

It involves intensive studies in music theory, history, piano skills, pedagogy, ear training, and arranging/orchestration, as well as performance requirements such as private lessons and ensemble playing.

Improvisation is unique to a jazz degree in academia and other jazz specific courses are also common.

In addition to that, my master’s degree also required a music journalism class, a transcription and analysis class, a music business class, a music technology class, and a music composition class.

The final project was a combination of a recital(see audio clips) and a thesis.

We had a lot of choice, as far as our subject matter goes and what I chose to do for my thesis was to do a transcription and analysis project on the late, great jazz bassist Ray Brown.

In the paper, i focused on his way of playing bass lines.  Although i did transcribe some solos, i did not write about them because my paper would have been twice as long, at least, and that would not have put me in very good standing with my evaluators.

so, with no further adieu, i present to you my master’s thesis:

Deep Brown

I must warn  you, this is a 48 page document, but there might be some gems in there for you bassists out there.  Plus, transcriptions in the appendix.

On a less academic note, i did have a brush with the man himself in the spring of 2003, i think.

Here is a pic from the clinic that i attended.  I asked a question and he had me come up and play.  I was terrified, but he was really cool.

Yes, I am playing his bass there.

Yes, I am wearing a mock turtle neck.

Yes, I look very different, but i assure you, that is, in fact me.

Artist Statement

Improvised music is the ultimate state of being in the moment.

It is the way I have found to be connected to the universal mind and my hope is that I can convey that to my audience and make a connection with them.

As much as I can, I am an improviser in life and in music in whatever context I find myself.

I pursued music but she chose to keep me, and for that I am obliged to be in her service and to uphold the highest standards in all of my musical endeavors.

Bass Philosophy 1

I’m paraphrasing, but i read a quote by bass legend Abe Laboriel once that went something like: “The bass is the house in which the rest of the band comes for warmth.” Man! I love that.

When I was younger and had absorbed every Flea bass-line I could, I did not completely understand good taste. I remember two events that happened when i was about 18 that planted seeds in me that would eventually sprout into the mature, nurturing bass player that I fancy myself to be today.

The first was my very first recording session. I was at Greenville College majoring in Contemporary Christian Music and when i arrived there, the pool of bass players was very shallow. I knew a little about music theory, had good ears, had some chops and had some experience playing different styles of music, so I was fortunate to be offered some opportunities to play with some older, more experienced players. This was the way it was for me in high school, as well. I have always done well with trials by fire.

A senior named Devon Weller who was one of a handful of resident recording guru/producer guys asked me if i would play bass on a song that he was producing. Of course, I was thrilled and my ego was now totally inflated. I showed up on the Saturday morning with my trusty Candy Apple Red Fender P-bass in tow, along with my Carvin PB-300 combo amp fired up and ready to go. Devon plugged me in and got me set up as he played the song over the studio monitors. It was fairly simple. It was an Ab modal thing, as i recall, but as I said, i was pretty inexperienced and green. I started in playing the fanciest, funkiest, coolest thing that I could think of. After a couple of passes, it was clear that he wasn’t happy with what I was playing. Devon is a soft-spoken guy with a heart of gold, but he told me straight out that I was playing too much. I was devastated. I was an ARTIST goddammit! In my head, I got defensive. I stayed cool on the outside and pared down my part. After a while he was satisfied, but i left feeling like i had been violated. Ah, the folly of youth. A couple years later, a girlfriend would tell me that when she was talking to me it seemed like i wasn’t listening. I was thinking about what i was going to say instead. That pretty much sums up what i was doing in the studio that day too.

The second event of that year took place a club in Macomb, IL. I have no idea what the name of the club was, but it had a tattoo parlor adjacent to it and our singer was late to the gig because of his new tattoo. I was playing with my band Mary. This was my first musical love. The four of us were best friends and created collectively like i have only experienced once since then. I remember the tension of the late start and the frustration with our singer’s tardiness yielded some great musical moments and I remember feeling very high when we came off stage. Until, that is, I got the best and worst compliment my tender late-adolescent ego could have received. Some guy came up to me and said: “Many, you guys sounded great! I love your bass playing! You listen to alot of Flea, don’t you?”

Once again, devastated. Only because, as a teenager, not only did I have an unhealthy obsession with Flea’s bass playing but i was interested in what was going on in his head. I read every interview in magazines, watched his instructional video multiple times a week, and every time that they were on MTV, i watched. His whole thing was about being an individual, being true to who you are. I was also drawn to Thoreau and Emerson for their individualist philosophies. That day, I stopped listening to Flea and set out to find my own style with a clean slate and a humbled heart.

The moral of the story is this: You must always listen more than you play and you must always seek to play like you. You are what you bring to the situation and you are the best thing that you have to offer.

who am i?

when you are good at something, you have a choice about how to treat that talent. I have a tendency towards self-deprication to a fault or humility gone awry. I am hesitant to put myself out there for fear of seeming arrogant or actually becoming arrogant. I know for a fact that i’m not the best at what i do, but what i forget is that i AM the best at being me. I owe it to myself and to everyone around me to do that and to do it to the utmost of my ability. The following is a quote that i was hipped to a couple of years back and helps to bring me back to reality. I hope it can help to do the same for you:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we
are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most
frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented,
fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your
playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about
shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all
meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as
we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to
do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence
automatically liberates others.”

Marianne Williamson

balance

A balance has been reached in the force. I’m talking about the balance between my formal training and the closeness of my heart to the music of ordinary folks. I am ordinary folk, although admittedly somewhat of a peculiar character. I come from ordinary folk and most people with whom I spend time are ordinary folk.

In the course of my studies I came across a certain elitism that divides the trained and the untrained. I spent the first 10 years of my musical life untrained, meaning that I did not take lessons. Sure I picked up tidbits here and there from other musi cians and I participated in music classes offered by the local gifted and talented program, but I never had a formal teacher until I attended USM. My guess is that the elitism comes from the time put into study, but it also finds its way into stylistic bias towards ‘sophisticated’ forms of music. This makes me very uncomfortable. The four years that i spent in school programmed me to think that i was somewhat obligated to be into certain things. Prescribed listening, i understand, but prescribed preference, not for me.

I bought into it for the first 3 years or so, without much thought. i was just kind of going with the flow and jumping through the appropriate hoops that would lead me to the other side of the piece of paper i was chasing. I even played lots of pop music during school, for money, all the while loathing it. i was weak. I was programmed. I was a student. I am still a student of every moment, no longer programmed(as far as i know), and I can finally say that I am musically strong.

I am secure and strong enough to like what i like, to study what i want to study, to not feel guilty when i just want to watch lost. I have been recording songs that i like here in Mexico. Not songs that i should record, but songs that i want to record. I am at the point as an artist where i feel safe just putting myself out there. Here is a version of a bossa nova tune called “Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars.” I know i don’t sound like a bossa singer, but this song has nice chords and sweet lyrics. Plus, i’ve been in mexico playing alot of latin music. I like to think that this is an example of balance for me. Where my training meets my formative years. I hope you enjoy, but ultimately this is for me.

Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars