How Barnes found his home in jazz
Singer-songwriter and former member of the Nylons has dipped into several genres during his career
What: Micah Barnes Where: Hermann’s Jazz Club When: Saturday, 8 p.m. (doors 6 p.m.) Admission: $15 (visit hermannsjazz.com to reserve tickets)
A few years ago, Toronto jazz singer Micah Barnes was living on Lennox Avenue in Harlem. One day, he noticed a plaque on his apartment building.
It identified the complex as the former site of the Savoy Ballroom. That was news to Barnes — he was astonished.
In the 1920s, ’30s and ’40s, the Savoy was New York’s hippest dance hall. Dubbed “the world’s finest ballroom,” it attracted lindy-hoppers and movie stars such as Lana Turner and Clark Gable. The Savoy was host to a who’s who of jazz: Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Art Blakey, Thelonious Monk, Ella Fitzgerald, Chick Webb, Count Basie and Benny Goodman.
Unfortunately, after closing in 1958, the Savoy was torn down to make way for housing. Nonetheless, Barnes said, living in this legendary location provided creative fuel for his recent album, New York Stories.
“I felt inspiration like no other time in my writing career,” said the 56-year-old singer/pianist, who will perform a solo show at Hermann’s Jazz Club on Saturday night.
If the name Micah Barnes sounds familiar, you’re likely a fan of the Nylons. Barnes was a member of the popular Canadian a cappella pop group from 1989 to 1996. Afterward, he launched himself as a solo artist, first exploring pop, rock and techno before establishing himself as a jazz-oriented singer-songwriter who dips into blues and R&B.
Barnes said in Victoria he’ll play some of his self-composed
New York Stories tunes, as well as standards and newer material.
His Harlem flat, which he maintained in 2014 and 2015, was also kitty-corner to Billie Holiday’s former apartment. Barnes, a huge fan, said he visited the address, but didn’t knock on the door. Harlem, although increasingly gentrified, is still a rough neighbourhood.
He said he didn’t experience problems while living there, possibly because he’s six-foot-four and resembles “an undercover cop.”
“Where we were, it was like a black exploitation film from the ’70s. It was cool,” Barnes said.
Formed in 1978 and still performing, the Nylons cashed in on the decade’s 1950s music craze, sparked by bands such as Sha Na Na and films such as American
Graffiti. The Nylons were known for their vocals-only arrangements of Happy Together, The Lion Sleeps Tonight and Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye.
Barnes was happy to become the Nylons’ baritone singer, replacing original member Paul Cooper. And he was comfortable with the group’s crowd-pleasing onstage antics. However, for someone who had grown up playing and singing in Toronto jazz clubs and cabarets, the Nylons weren’t quite a perfect fit.
At first, he found learning the complex vocal harmonies and choreography a challenge. As a member of a touring cover band, Barnes yearned to return to songwriting. After the 1990 death of his then partner, dancer René Highway, he decided to leave the Nylons to pursue a solo career.
“You think about your deathbed and looking back. And will you regret? I thought, ‘Yes, I’ll regret it, so let me try.’ ”
Barnes moved to Los Angeles, shaved his head and became a punky techno-pop-rocker (one journalist described him as “Bowie meets Brecht in a dark alley”). He specialized in angstridden “pain and passion” music.
During this period, he led a drugs, sex and rock-and-roll lifestyle. He was living a teenage fantasy. When Barnes was young, he had been intrigued by tales of drug use associated with such jazz legends as Charlie Parker.
“I completely glamourized that, growing up as a kid. My heroes died young and were addicts, as well as musicians. I have to say that went very deep in my psyche,” he said.
Barnes comes from an arty family. His father was composer (and former jazz drummer) Milton Barnes; his mother, Lilly Barnes, was head writer for CBC’s Mr. Dressup show. His brothers are jazz drummer Daniel Barnes and Ariel Barnes, who recently retired as first cellist for the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.
When Micah was 13, his mother played him a Billie Holiday album. It got him hooked on jazz.
“It turned my crank, I’ll tell you. I went about trying to learn every jazz standard I could get my hands on,” he said.
About the same time, Barnes became interested in the blues, as well. His father gave him recordings of Ray Charles’ The Genius Sings the Blues and Odetta Sings the Blues.
His parents signed him up for lessons in Toronto with a piano teacher, Joel Shulman, who had occasionally accompanied Holiday. Barnes was happy to study with someone who told first-hand stories about his idol. That said, Shulman was a bit of a character.
“He was Scottish and Jewish and cranky and blind. I was scared of him,” Barnes said.
Today, Barnes lives in a downtown Toronto apartment with a history. Once home to puppeteer Ronnie Burkett and jazz singer John Alcorn, it boasts faux-tin panelling and a “bordello”-like vibe.
Barnes said he has toned down the decor since moving in — partly to avoid shocking his singing students.
“Ronnie had it decked out like a turn-of-the-century boudoir. It was like a plush velvet red,” he said, chuckling.
“Well, I had to make an adjustment, you know. Because I teach. And my poor clients would arrive to this. I needed a bit more decorum.”