Magnets!
Reed
College Student Union
Thursday,
Oct. 26
"The idea for
the band came during a gig I had with Rachel Z in New York,"
says Kim Clarke. "Rob [Scheps] used to come in and light
the place up sitting in. Six months went by, and I called
his machine and it said he'd moved to Portland, Oregon!"
In his annual
tours, Ronnie Burrage drives a retinue of jazz-saxophone
greats to manic heights. Sonny Rollins, Jackie McLean and
Sonny Fortune have all been prodded by his elastic playing.
"To me, switching
between jazz and funk was always just a natural thing, 'cause
I grew up playing so many different types of music."
--Ronnie Burrage
In its recent gig before the all-ages Reedie masses, Magnets!,
the East-meets-West funk-jazz alliance, stayed true to their
scientific namesake as they batted kinetic energy back and
forth like a steel-tipped badminton birdie.
As Portland saxophone perennial Rob Scheps did his best
Roland Kirk, blowing soprano and tenor simultaneously, co-leader
and electric-bass colossus Kim Clarke locked in with roller-coaster
drummer Ronnie Burrage. Guest organist Joey Porter (standing
in for George Mitchell) did his damnedest to keep up. This
is no ordinary 4/4 funk collective. This is a made-in-heaven
marriage of Funkadelic's groove and the slippery melody
and intricate rhythms of Weather Report at its most aggressive.
At the music's core is the tag-team match of Clarke's lock-step
bob and weave and Burrage's percussive barrage, a science-class
experiment of combustible rhythm. Nineteen years ago, the
two first teamed to stoke the fires of Joseph Bowie's funk
ensemble Defunkt. That band--still occasionally together--was
a bold and gritty take on '70s-style Parliamentary beats
with the ragged glory of avant-jazz screech-for-the-sky
soloing.
The rhythm pair went their separate ways, establishing
reputations as first-tier jazz players, the choice of legends
like Sonny Rollins and Joe Henderson. Yet they still love
to work it out in the sweat lodge of funk, as they showed
at the Reed gig. As the two discussed their heritage in
parting the jazz-funk waters, WW listened in.
Ronnie Burrage: To me, switching between jazz and
funk was always just a natural thing, 'cause I grew up playing
so many different types of music. My first road tour I didn't
even realize was happening. I was 9 years old with Duke
Ellington.
Kim Clarke: No way! You were a little child prodigy!
RB: It was his revival orchestra with the choir,
big band and a little-bitty drum set I played. But I had
no clue! I remember him being this big, warm granddad. Later
on in life I thought if I knew who he was and what was going
on I'd really be bad!
KC: Yeah, if I hadn't gotten a grant to study with
Ron Carter, I know for sure I wouldn't have played with
all the jazz people I have.
RB: But Kim's a natural musician too. You don't think
too much about different so-called types of music--you just
play, don't you?
KC: I'm just trying to play the best that the moment
calls for. To flip back and forth between funk and jazz
now isn't bad 'cause I've done the work, put the time in
on the bandstand. I'd be with Defunkt on the road then get
home to the Jazz Culture Theater [a now-closed Manhattan
spot owned by jazz pianist Barry Harris]. There was a special
spirit there--a lot of beautiful, older musicians sharing
with others and just having a good time. No alcohol, just
chicken and waffles and coffee and people who just loved
playing tunes.
RB: That's how the shit's really learned. The younger
guys coming up now--because they've done a couple of things,
they think they know it all. That's a problem. They're not
asking for the knowledge. Man, I used to hang out with the
old guys all night long.
KC: Uh-huh. We're the last ones to touch Art Blakey's
hand and talk with people like that. In New York now every
young hot shot from Peoria comes with an axe to grind and
wants to make an impression on everybody.
RB: That's what I mean. Before it wasn't like that.
When you get to that level, if you don't have the humility,
you don't have anything.
KC: See, what's happening with the music is we analyze
it and put it through the grinder, but the bottom line is:
Where did it come from? It was from stuff that came up out
of the pain. Okay? If you haven't been through that kind
of pain that jazz, blues and gospel are built on, you don't
understand the sharing policy of letting everybody in. My
mother's generation talks about the old bare buildings with
the juke box run by the mob, cold wood floor, but still
everybody dancing and having a good time. The reason for
the music was to get past all of that stuff-- the pain.
RB: I feel good when we play in this band. Rob [Scheps]
mentioned: "You look happy when we're playing, but sometimes
when we're not..." I live to play, and other than seeing
my children grow, it's my thing. The music is giving me
my only true fulfillment, and it always has.
KC: Joe Henderson told me, the bandstand is the
only time you get a chance to talk with God. You don't bring
bullshit to the bandstand. Ninety percent of your life is
gonna be lived off the bandstand. So you should cherish
that as a sacred place and reach for something higher.
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