Q
& A WITH CHARLIE HUNTER
By Tim vonHolten
If
you haven't heard Charlie Hunter, you may be
missing the second coming of jazz. Blue Note
and Impulse, fortunately, are mostly resting
on their laurels. Unfortunately, when they're
not, we get more Easy Listening Vanilla Knobzak
from whichever Brecker or Marsalis happens
to be hanging around the lobby. Jazz used to
have stones the size of Chet Baker's heroine
habit and enough mojo to make you cough just
looking at the album covers. Charlie may be
a little short on the grit side, but what he
does bring to the table is real jazz, infused
with enough funk to make the entire Warner
Brothers catalog wet their tiny pants. So it's
got a little flute in it. Nobody's perfect.
So look to "Friends
Seen and Unseen" on ropeadope records for your
jazz needs, and look below for lawrence.com's
talk with Charlie Hunter about John Brown, Democrats,
and machete killing.
Well, it's already 9 a.m. here, so it's
a great time to do an interview.
Oh, where are you?
Lawrence, Kansas.
Oh, cool. Jayhawks!
Right.
John Brown!
I was gonna ask you about John Brown.
You're wrecking this interview already.
[laughing] Quantrill!
It's
interesting that you mention Jayhawks and
John Brown. We had the "Jayhawks on Parade" for
a while here, where a gaggle of misguided hacks
decorated enormous fiberglass Jayhawks, and
the newspaper had one made to look like John
Brown. It's in the lobby now.
Awesome.
It is really cool, I've gotta say. And
I'm not as big a fan of the Jayhawk as I am
John Brown, but this artist did them both justice.
Yeah, John Brown's a very interesting history.
Very interesting stuff went on in Lawrence.
You're
a big fan of "Cloudsplitter," by
Russell Banks.
Oh, yeah. God, I love that book.
That's more of a fictionalized account
of John Brown?
It's
a fictionalized account from one of his surviving
sons. And it's from when the surviving son
is in his late 70s or early 80s or something.
He's a very old man at that point. But it's
very well written; it really gets into the
character and the time. Russell Banks has a
knack for that, I think. He really got into
the character of Bone, too [in "Rule of the Bone," also
by Banks]
One writer made some comparisons between
you and Bone.
Oh, that's funny.
So I was wondering about any pot-related,
Rastafarian killing sprees in your past.
No, I haven't done that yet. I hope not to have
to be in that situation ever.
Well, you're young yet. It could still
happen.
Oh boy, I hope not. One of my goals is to avoid
that kind of thing if at all possible.
Avoid machete killing.
Exactly. Or any kind of killing.
Well, good for you. Where are you living
these days?
In Jersey.
How long have you been in New Jersey?
Oh, I've been here almost two years, but I've
been on the East Coast for about seven now.
Oh, really. I thought for some reason
you were still living in Berkeley.
Oh my God, no. It's been years since I've done
that. I go and hang out there about once a year
for a week or two, that's about it.
And you were in New York City for a
while?
Yeah.
So, why eight strings? Why not ten?
Why not three? Why not six?
Exactly.
Great question. Why not three? That's an even
better question than "Why not six?" I
think that's the thing about the guitar. It's
one of those do-it-yourself instruments. It's
kind of like the world's instrument. Nearly every
culture has their version of the guitar. Some
of them have three strings -- like I think the
balalaika might have three strings. Then of course
the Cuban Tres has three sets of two strings,
but it's really a three-stringed instrument when
you deal with the tonality of it. And then there's
the six-string guitar, and that can be tuned
a variety of different ways ...
My
idea of the eight-string thing was really like, "How can I get an instrument that could
give me the range of the bass and the guitar,
but also still be playable. [laughs] ‘Cause
ten strings is too much for me. So I just settled
on the eight-string, and it just kind of came
out of being a six-string player that -- I'd
played a little drum set and some bass as well,
so I kind of had an idea about trying to create
an instrument that could put me in a situation
where I could do all of those things.
And really, ultimately, the idea is to try to
create my own vocabulary on the instrument. From
the very beginning I tried to see how many parts
I could do together ... But then, as I got a
little more technique underneath my hands, it
became more of an issue of evolving my own style
and trying to evolve the instrument as something
unique rather than just trying to be a six-string
jazz guitar player or bass player; try to take
elements from those things and ultimately create
my own sound with that. And I'm slowly getting
there. I'm still a ways away from really making
my statement on the instrument. But it's a work
in progress.
How is the ropeadope records experience
compared to Blue Note?
Oh, it's great. I mean, Blue Note, for when
I was young, I was lucky to be in that situation,
but it's just a very corporate label, and I don't
really need to be involved in a corporation,
and I don't enjoy the culture, and I'm not really
expecting to get my music in Wal-Mart any time
soon, so it's totally unnecessary for me to be
in a situation I don't want to be in. ropeadope
is great. It's one guy -- literally -- one guy
doing everything. It's totally fine. Mellow.
I just feel a lot more freedom to play and explore
rather than worrying about trying to make records
that work for [satisfying] the corporate reality.
And even at it's most corporate, jazz
is still underground compared to its pop brethren
like Godsmack and Nickelback.
I've never even heard of any of those bands.
Good for you.
I reached a tipping point in my life where I
was just -- it was just -- cotton candy -- American
popular culture -- I was a big sports fan and
I watched my sitcoms and all of that, and there
just came a point in my life where it was just
like eating pure cotton candy, and I just realized
that I just can't do this anymore. The more you
educate yourself as to the corporate people that
are behind all of these things, the less able
I am to deal with it, and one minute of network
television is enough to make me wanna throw up
because it's so unnatural.
And
when you get away -- it's like quitting smoking
cigarettes. When you're trying to quit it's
the hardest thing in the world, but when you
finally quit you're like, "I can't believe
I ever did anything like that." So it's just
the whole -- I don't want to be dogmatic about
it, because I was raised in this culture, of
kind of the junk food mentality. It's like that
McDonald's mentality is in the television, it's
in, not just the food we eat, it's in the music
we wanna hear, in the TV we wanna watch, all
the movies we wanna see, and the sports. I used
to be into sports. I can't even think about watching
a basketball game. One minute listening to the
inane banter of the people, and seeing all of
these kids, especially the college game, where
these kids are basically indentured servants
to these universities that they're making millions
and millions for through endorsements, and just
the hypocrisy of the alumni and all these people
who basically are pimping out these kids and
getting all high and mighty -- these kids should
be paid. [laughs] I don't know, I'm just going
on a ramble. It just gets back to the whole thing
-- I just feel like there just came a point in
my life where I was like, "I just don't need
to be a part of this anymore, and I can no longer
deal with it." I'm just happily on the outskirts
of whatever it is.
So what do you do to occupy your time
now that you're a square?
I guess I'm just gettin' old, man. I read. I
watch a lot of DVDs. [laughing] Historical documentaries.
I guess I'm just turning into a dry, boring old
guy. [laughs]
Wow. And you've got a couple kids.
Yeah. Basically I'm just a dad. I just have
to take care of my kids when I'm not on the road,
and that's pretty much what I get involved in.
What are you reading now?
I'm
reading a few things. I'm reading a biography
of Alexander Hamilton that just came out. I'm
reading the Robert Fagles translation of "The
Iliad." And I'm reading " Foucault's Pendulum" by
Umberto Eco.
Have
you read "The Name of the Rose?"
Yeah. God, that's a great book.
It's amazing. It's like packing in a
liberal arts degree reading one of his books.
He packs in art history, political science,
comp, fiction...
Exactly. He can definitely beat your ass with
some erudition sometimes.
Tell me about the state of jazz today.
Do you think it's pretty healthy?
Well,
the state of music is always healthy. ... Music
is great. It's music's relationship to whatever
-- in our case it's jazz's relationship to
the capitalist culture within which we live,
and at the moment that's pretty terrible. But
music itself is great. There's just a lot people
who are pursuing their concepts and their dreams
at any cost, and that's a good thing I think.
But I think it's hard because, like you said,
even the most corporate stuff in "jazz" is
still underground. And it that's the case, you
can only imagine the people who are my age and
younger who no longer have any corporate outlet
for their music and they have to do it all by
themselves. There's no -- what I had, 10, 15
years ago, to be able to get on a label and get
my music out into all of the big record chains
and everything, and get that kind of leg up for
starting a career. That's not really available
to anybody anymore, so in that way it'll be a
little more difficult.
But then in another way, I think there's not
gonna be that kind of tacit corporate culture
looming over people's artistic decisions. And
that's going to allow people to be much more
-- I don't want to use the word underground --
much more dynamic in the way that they approach
making their music, and much more connected to
the people they're playing their music for. And
I think that's ultimately good in the long run,
to completely, as much as possible, eliminate
the kind of corporate middle man thing. If you
think about the music industry itself, it's probably
one of the only situations in nature where the
parasite is 10 or 20 times larger than the host.
And I think that can work if you're selling your
records at Wal-Mart and you're selling 10 million
records, but for people that are in my case,
and people who are -- I mean, I'm successful
and I hardly sell any records. Can you imagine
what it's like for people who are really trying
to do it? It's just really hard at the moment,
but I think that necessity is the mother of invention,
and the positive side of that is that we won't
really have to worry about pleasing anyone but
ourselves and our audience, and I see that happening
a lot, and I think that ultimately would be a
great thing.
I
had forgotten that you played bass for "Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy" --
Yeah, yeah.
-- which still really holds up for me.
Thanks.
And I'd forgotten that you were involved
in that, and it kind of cracked my up.
[laughing] It cracks me up, too.
And you and Michael Franti certainly
took different directions from there.
Well, it was never my project. It was Michael's
thing always. He just hired me. And we were friends.
We just hung out a lot, and so I just kind of
fell into that scene. But Michael's great, and
he's continued to really pursue his thing. He's
one of the smartest people I know, so it's great
to see him out there having an audience to play
for, and not being marginalized by the kind of
corporate culture which, in the kind of music
that he's doing, is much easier to have happen
to them than with what I'm doing.
You've been in Lawrence a few times
in a pretty short span.
I was there with a duo with Adam Cruz, and then
I was there with Garage a Trois. And now I'm
gonna come with my trio.
John Ellis and Derrek Phillips?
With John and Derrek, yeah.
What keeps bringing you back to Lawrence?
Well, when you're out on the road, you're out
on the road. And basically, Lawrence has got
some hip people, and if they're gonna come out
and see me, then I'm gonna go play there.
And you've had good experiences here?
Oh, yeah. Lawrence is great. Yeah, I like Lawrence.
Lawrence is right on. It's all good.
And we've got the rich history that
you seem to enjoy.
Yeah, totally. Totally.
We almost had a Quantrill High School.
Get out of here.
We've got a Dole Library. We love namin'
stuff after shitheads.
Eight
years ago Bob Dole was a shithead. Now he's
a moderate. Now he's a moderate with integrity.
How things have sunk. I'm gonna vote for a
Democrat for the first time in my life, for
President. I never ever thought that was gonna
happen. ... Dude, I've never voted for either
one of those parties. I can't believe that
things have sunk so low that I have to vote
for a f•cking
Democrat. It's embarrassing. All my Berkeley
sensibilities thrown out the window. Things must
be bad.
How did you manage to get raised in
Berkeley and not turn out to be a Deadhead?
It's funny. My mom was of the generation that
probably would have been interested in that,
and she disliked that music intensely. She thought
that it was just kind of lame, because what she
was into was the music that those guys were trying
to cop. She was really into all the old country
blues players and country stuff, so that was
around the house. So basically, for the same
reason I never really got into Eric Clapton or
any of that kind of stuff is because I had all
-- the record collection was this kind of thing
filled with Robert Johnson and B.B. King and
Son House and Joseph Spence and Taj Mahal and
all the great stuff -- Albert King -- I didn't
need that music, 'cause I had all of the original
stuff. I didn't feel like they really had anything
to offer beyond that kind of not doing the stuff
that I had grown up with very well.
Maybe you just weren't groovy enough.
I probably wasn't, and also I wasn't really
culturally in that kind of a thing. I kind of
grew up as a hippie, but it wasn't that kind
of a hippie.
A rich, entitled hippie?
No,
it was not. It was the other side of the hippie
tracks. The kind of welfare, blood-selling
hippie side of the tracks. ... The only thing
I remember about the Grateful Dead was they
played a concert one time in Berkeley, and
the only thing I remember was everyone in the
junior high school saying, "Yeah, that band is coming.
Now we can go buy weed at the concert." [laughs]
Is this a completely new trio for you?
They were both in the quintet. And John [Ellis]
has actually been with me for going on four years
now ...
And
you're calling the new record, "Friends
Seen and Unseen," your best record ever, according
to ropeadope records.
It's so funny that they said that. I said this
is definitely my best, I think, guitar record
I've ever made. That's what I have to clarify.
I have to tell him not to keep putting that down.
[laughing] That's so embarrassing, and things
just don't work that way. This music there's
really not any best, so to speak.
There's nothing wrong with being proud
of the record, though.
I just think that up to this point, whatever
you're playing is always an evolution, and I
just think that, for me, I just feel like it's
a good example of where my guitar playing is
at right now more than anything else. And Andy's
gotta sell records, he's gotta do what he's gotta
do.
You're saying this is your best guitar
record yet, and your name is on the cover of
the record, but throughout your career you
seem to let the other guys on your records
really showcase their skills.
Oh yeah.
It's not like picking up a Stanley Jordan
record or something, where it was all about
Stanley Jordan, and there happen to be some
anonymous guys in the far background.
Well, thank you. That's what I'm trying to do.
Ultimately you can make the music as two-dimensional
as you want to. If you just want to make a record
that's extremely surface-driven, and there's
a lot of nifty little playing on it, then that's
fine. But to me, I want to try to make a record,
and have a group, that is a 360-degree musical
experience where everybody is constantly contributing.
You're trying to create a canvas, really, and
it's really a democratic process, with me as
kind of the leader of it, but it still is a situation
where everyone needs to be contributing all the
time, mostly improvised music, and I'm not hiring
these guys to chop wood. [laughs] I'm hiring
them for their ability to get in there and put
on the gloves and slug it out.
You put a lot of genres into your jazz,
but it's always jazz. Do you have any desire
to do straight funk or death metal or anything?
[laughs] Please no. What I try to do is make
acquaintances that turn into friendships -- musical
partnerships -- and I just try to learn from
the people I'm playing with, and hopefully I'm
just trying to evolve my musicianship, my understanding
of the entire music system. And the more people
I play with and interact with, the better that
gets. So I just try to take each situation for
what it is, and if it's not really interesting
and engaging to me, then I'll have to go on to
the next situation. So I just take each thing
as they come down the pike, but I don't really
like to rock out for more than -- two or three
minutes a night is about as much as I can handle.