A guitar that sings, even if the man behind it doesn’t
John Scofield brought best out of guest stars for Ray Charles tribute
If there’s one thing that strikes fear in the heart of the jazz critic, it’s the tribute album. Too often, it smacks of recordcompany cynicism and artistic stagnation. John Scofield, one of the most celebrated of modern-day jazz guitarists, feels the same way. He explains: “I think if I told a record company, ‘I’d like to do the music of Britney Spears in a jazz style,’ they would say, ‘ John, that’s a great idea.’ That’s what they’re waiting to hear — something that’ll finally sell some units.”
As Scofield recalls, when his record company, Verve, approached him with the idea of a tribute to the recently deceased Ray Charles, he was about to say, he couldn’t do it. “But just as that was about to come out of my mouth, I realized, ‘Wait a minute — this really works for me, ’ cause I love Ray’s music, and it’s so conducive to stretching out and doing different things.’ ”
The result, That’s What I Say, is an exception proving the tribute-album rule. Scofield reinvents highlights from Charles’ catalogue to such an extent that even the hoariest of chestnuts sounds fresh. That’s What I Say, for instance, becomes an Afro-Cuban romp, while Georgia on My Mind
is delivered enigmatically, on solo acoustic guitar.
Scofield has also brought in a host of inspired guest-star singers, including Dr. John, Mavis Staples, Aaron Neville and John Mayer. In a true old-school jazz spirit, the singers actually entered the studio to record live with the instrumentalists, instead of overdubbing their parts. The interplay provides for some unexpected pleasures, such as the usually breathy Mayer’s bluesy growling on I Don’t Need No Doctor.
On the phone from a tour stop in Colorado, a tired but enthusiastic Scofield admits, “I didn’t think his vocal performance was gonna be as gritty as it was. I had this key that I wanted to do the tune in, and he said, ‘ That’s going to be a little high for me.’ I pushed him over the top, and he was singing full-out, which he doesn’t normally do, and then afterwards, he really liked it. Oh man, he sang his ass off!”
Scofield claims that he himself sings “really badly.” Nonetheless, he plays with an expressive tone and often bends notes downward at the end of his phrases, calling to mind a singing voice. Being compared to a singer, he affirms, is “ the greatest compliment. My favourite jazz musicians were always guys that had that in their playing — Miles [ Davis], [ Stan] Getz, Lester Young, Louis Armstrong — lyrical players.”
Scofield is not always given credit for his deft lyrical ability, which he displays to stunning effect on That’s What I Say, with tracks like Cryin’ Time, a country standard that Charles famously interpreted in the ’60s. He remains best known for his bluesy, fiery playing, both on his own and as a sideman with jazzrockfusion bands, with drummer Billy Cobham in the mid-’70s and iconoclast extraordinaire Davis, who set off his own lyricism against often fiery music, from 1982 to 1985.
Playing with Davis was seminal to Scofield, both in learning “what not to do” when leading bands (apparently the legend “could get away with murder,” whereas Scofield soon realized he couldn’t), and in playing radically different kinds of music which all, he explains, have a common root.
“In so many ways,” says Scofield, “I realize after the fact that [Davis’s] real obsession with funk and all that stuff has rubbed off on me, [as well as] the idea of using that as a real valid underpinning for improvisation, and the way it’s all related to swing music. He started doing that before Dave Koz and Kenny G clogged up the airwaves with smooth jazz.”
Another important collaboration was with the adventurous organ trio Medeski, Martin and Wood, with whom he recorded the album A Go Go in 1997. The association garnered him a whole new following of young jam-band fans, whose response to music is very different from that of the conventionally staid jazz audience.
“ They are so open for experimentation,” Scofield enthuses. “If you want to take [the music] ‘ out’ and play wild sounds and just see what happens, they go for that. I love playing for them when they get physically involved and start to dance. I think that’s fun as hell.”
Scofield cringes audibly when reminded of his own impromptu dancing on stage at a visit to the Toronto Jazz Festival last year. Nonetheless, he isn’t surprised a Canadian audience could have elicited such an unself-conscious response. The Ohio-born guitarist, who played his first-ever professional gig in 1974 at the Colonial Tavern in Toronto, enjoys a distinctive relationship with audiences north of his border.
“The Canadian scene,” he says, “ is really important to jazz. Us musicians in the United States of America are trying to figure out why it’s so hip. Does it mean there’s a little more respect for the arts? I don’t know; I can’t figure it out, but it’s pretty cool up there.” ❚
Scofield plays Le Spectrum in Montreal today and at the Phoenix Concert Theatre in Toronto tomorrow.