J imi Hendrix supposedly once said that music was his religion. When I talked to American guitarist and composer John Scofield, who is performing at the National Concert Hall on Tuesday, about how he came to record his first album of traditional African-American Christian music (known as “gospel”), his devotion, which goes back to his earliest influences, seems to be all about music.
“I’ve been into R ’n’ B and old classic soul grooves my whole life. I mean, I even started out in the 60s as a fan when that music was on the radio,” he said from his home in New York last month. “And I became aware of the connection between the people that I liked, their singing, really — Aretha Franklin and James Brown — and gospel music. So I became a fan early on of black church music.”
A master of improvisation equally adept at fusion, funk, bebop, R ’n’ B and modern blues, Scofield (often referred to as “Sco”) first recorded as a sideman with bassist and composer Charles Mingus, then with vibraphonist Gary Burton.
He released his first album, John Scofield, in 1977 and later joined legendary trumpeter Miles Davis for three recordings in the mid-1980s. By the end of the decade, Scofield had recorded six more albums as frontman and had established himself as one of the premier improvisational guitarists on the planet.
Scofield chose New Orleans, widely considered the birthplace of jazz, to record his new album, Piety Street, and the city figures prominently in his new musical direction.
“I’d been wanting to go to New Orleans and make kind of a more bluesy record. I figured I’d go to New Orleans and play with the guys down there that are experts at that style,” he said.
“I wasn’t thinking about gospel music. But then when I thought about what we were actually going to play, rather than play a bunch of blues standards, which have been done so much, I thought it would just be different and ... a great idea and great music to play.”
“I knew I wanted to have singing on the record before that. And then I thought, well these gospel tunes, they haven’t been recorded nearly as much [as a lot of blues standards]. But it gives me the material to play with that blues feel, you know. It certainly wasn’t me wanting to make a religious record. It was me wanting to play some bluesy type stuff in New Orleans,” he said.
“Gospel music has the jazz beat. It has these nice chord progressions that are simple, like When the Saints Go Marching In, that give you something to really extrapolate on in a jazz-blues way. And it’s just the perfect stuff to blow [improvise] on, you know.”
Scofield points to native New Orleans singer Mahalia Jackson as the first gospel artist he listened to and credits his mother, also a native of New Orleans, as having introduced him to the city and its culture. But he admits he has no direct roots in gospel music or to the gospel world in general.
“I’m just playing the same gigs I always play. And playing these tunes. And I think some people don’t even realize these are gospel tunes. They just think ‘Wow, that’s kind of really bluesy for Scofield.’ And so it’s like nobody noticed,” he said laughing.
He was also surprised when I informed him that Piety Street had appeared on Billboard’s gospel album charts, the first time in his 35-year recording career. The album stayed there for six weeks.
“You gotta be kidding. You see, that’s how out of it I am. I didn’t even look,” he said. “Fantastic. Well now I’m gospel all the way then, man.”
Scofield doesn’t shy away from the subject of religion. “I grew up with that code of morality that comes from the Judeo-Christian [tradition]. But I was never particularly religious ... I’m not a member of any organized religion.”
“I do like the old stories that come up in these gospel songs and the songs of inspiration. I think I understand why the message of Christianity and of Christ is so incredibly strong and has endured for so long. To say, ‘I have nothing to do with religion,’ that’s wrong. But also, you know, I’m not a Christian.”
“I always thought that ‘Hey, if I’m spreading that message’ — and we are when we play those songs because the singer John Cleary ... when he sings ‘I’ve got Jesus and that’s enough’ and ‘Walk with me, Jesus,’ you’re spreading the message. So I think, and it’s certainly been like this from any [religious] person who has come to the show, that they’re thrilled with it. I made it clear on the liner notes to the record that I’m not coming from a particularly religious place, although I’m not an atheist.”
“I have no faith in [atheism],” he said. “As a matter of fact I think that’s pretty arrogant.”
Scofield’s guitar style on Piety Street is a real departure from his earlier recordings — even his more blues-oriented albums such as Blue Matter (1987) and his work with jazz trio Medeski Martin & Wood — as he uses traditional blues guitar techniques like string bending more often.
“That’s part of the guitar tradition that is so great about the blues, and B.B. King is bending the strings,” he said. “And Albert King bent the strings so much, like a whole major third up. And so I’ve always loved those guys. So I thought, ‘If I’m going to play some blues I better work on it.’”
Piety Street is one of the rare times Scofield has used vocals on an album (another is his superb tribute to Ray Charles, That’s What I Say). But he doesn’t seem to mind surrendering the role as the central voice of the group to a singer.
“I think it’s like sharing the front line with a great horn player. I’ve played a lot of times with horn players and piano players when they get as many solos as I get. So for me it’s just a blast to collaborate with a great singer. And I arranged the music so my guitar gets featured a lot,” he said laughing.
“And I don’t feel like I’m not getting to blow. I don’t feel like I’m playing a lounge gig behind some dreaded singer where I don’t get to play. Cleary inspires me. Great singers inspire me. And it’s just like playing with Joe Lavano, the great horn player. Cleary inspires me with his singing and his piano playing,” he said.
Bassist Shannon Powell and drummer Roland Guerin will perform with the Piety Street Band on Tuesday, replacing George Porter Jr and Ricky Fataar from the recording.
“[We] have a fantastic New Orleans rhythm section that are maybe some of the greatest players in town,” he said. “Roland Guerin is an incredible bassist and Shannon Powell really just represents the tradition of New Orleans drumming better than anybody I know. And he’s a giant on his instrument.”
Last week, Viola Zhou published a marvelous deep dive into the culture clash between Taiwanese boss mentality and American labor practices at the Taiwan Semiconductor (TSMC) plant in Arizona in Rest of World. “The American engineers complained of rigid, counterproductive hierarchies at the company,” while the Taiwanese said American workers aren’t dedicated. The article is a delight, but what it is depicting is the clash between a work culture that offers employee autonomy and at least nods at work-life balance, and one that runs on hierarchical discipline enforced by chickenshit. And it runs on chickenshit because chickenshit is a cultural
By far the most jarring of the new appointments for the incoming administration is that of Tseng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) to head the Straits Exchange Foundation (SEF). That is a huge demotion for one of the most powerful figures in the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). Tseng has one of the most impressive resumes in the party. He was very active during the Wild Lily Movement and his generation is now the one taking power. He has served in many of the requisite government, party and elected positions to build out a solid political profile. Elected as mayor of Taoyuan as part of the
Moritz Mieg, 22, lay face down in the rubble, the ground shaking violently beneath him. Boulders crashed down around him, some stones hitting his back. “I just hoped that it would be one big hit and over, because I did not want to be hit nearly to death and then have to slowly die,” the student from Germany tells Taipei Times. MORNING WALK Early on April 3, Mieg set out on a scenic hike through Taroko Gorge in Hualien County (花蓮). It was a fine day for it. Little did he know that the complex intersection of tectonic plates Taiwan sits
When picturing Tainan, what typically comes to mind is charming alleyways, Japanese architecture and world-class cuisine. But look beyond the fray, through stained glass windows and sliding bookcases, and there exists a thriving speakeasy subculture, where innovative mixologists ply their trade, serving exquisite concoctions and unique flavor profiles to rival any city in Taiwan. Speakeasies hail from the prohibition era of 1920s America. When alcohol was outlawed, people took their business to hidden establishments; requiring patrons to use hushed tones — speak easy — to conceal their illegal activities. Nowadays legal, speakeasy bars are simply hidden bars, often found behind bookcases